If you...

Thanks Grandma G. Thank you mom!

Thanks Carrie.

Thanks Grandma W.

It is 3:47am. I am exhausted. My sweet son is teething, again. He is hopefully asleep after giving him some pain killer. I, however, was doing dishes until a moment ago. I'm upset. Why? Being a mom is the most thankless job, so if you have a mother, wife, or sister with a child thank her. Thank them for the time they spent wiping your tiny hind parts, giving you baths, and putting clean clothes on you for the emp-teenth time. Thank the lady who thought you were more important than the friends who didn't have time for her anymore. Thank the lady who wiped your tears away and held you. Thank the lady who held you before God the moment she found out you were to be and gave you back to his keeping when you were born. Thank the lady who signed up for a 40+ year job. Thank the lady who will always see you as the 6lbs 13oz sleepy bundle she brought home with her. Thank the lady who will clean up the results of your bodily functions without gloves or a clothes pin on her nose. Thank the lady who didn't let you drink the chemicals you somehow got your hands on. Thank the lady who didn't let you play in, on, or around the toilet. Thank the lady who makes scrap books of your milestones. Thank the lady who worries about who you are around, all while being so proud she wants to show you to the world. Thank the lady who doesn't allow you to do whatever you desire. Thank the lady who heart falls out of her chest when you decide to jump from the 12th stair up or you bonk your head on the corner of some furniture. Thank the lady who gave you to someone else because she could not care for you the way you needed. Thank the lady who took you in and became your mother. Give them a hug, a call, a smooch. They deserve it.

Thanks Bernice.

Thank you Karly and Destiny!

Thanks Dylan you made me a mama.
I can never thank you enough.

hmmm?

I haven't posted in a few days. I don't know what to write. It all seems like pointless drivel. I'd prefer not to write another whiny blog about how things are not changing fast enough. I will say I enjoy MOPS. I'm looking forward to Dylan's first birthday party. The planning has given me something fun to do. I'm enjoying cooking recently and am happy Dylan's third tooth FINALLY poked through. Sounds pretty basic? It is.

These Hands

         Large hands placed on tiny feverish head. 

Hard-working calloused hands placed above a prostrated graying head.

Hands gently covering a tear stained wrinkled face.
Hands clasp a microphone to sing praises in a booming tenor voice.

Hands making peach cobbler.

Hands canning peaches and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Hands with fingertips lightly touching while in thought.

Hands grasping a black worn bible.

Hands raised in surrender.

These are strong hands.

These hands keep the man from stumbling.

Hands covered in rich earth from planting.

Hands playing Phase 10 and Scrabble.

Excited hands opening Christmas gifts. 

These are my grandpa's hands.

Its all about the mortar

I wrote this earlier tonight.

Sitting here in a room filled with praying souls, I envision a picture before me. From a distance my face stares back at me from a simple black frame. Something brings me closer to this portrait. It's like being under a magnifying glass. I begin to observe the fractures of a mosaic held together with mortar. Closer still I look, the ties begin to be clearer. They are snippets capturing defining moments in my life. Curious at which moment are being displayed, I try to make out what different tiles portray. I see the look on my parent's faces at my birth. I see my first time in church. There is a tile showing my dedication to the Lord. My grandpa's large brown hands palming my tiny head gently. I see me sitting in various Sunday School classrooms and church services over the years. I see the times I choose to raise my hands in surrender to the Master. I see birthday parties with my friend's eager faces. I find a tile of my dad's weary face as he prays for me in the wee hours of the morning. Every tile is held together by the mortar. I find more tiles. There is one of me sitting at our kitchen table with frustrated tears rolling down my face over a pile of home I didn't understand. While a couple more display my baptism and accepting Jesus as my own. There are a few of my high school choir. I find a few of good friends who made my life better. (Yes, you silly!) I find a tile or two of my high school prom and graduation. I see my wedding day, my son's birth and me standing watching my baby cousin's casket roll by. All these mosaic tiles are held together by mortar carefully placed by the Master's artful hand.

He that began a good work in me is able to complete it...

There are consequences...

I haven't written much recently. I have a lot of transition in my life right now. I'm just trying to make these changes gracefully. Some changes are positive. While others are leaving me with this feeling of being stuck in a rut.

At work, my co-workers are being shuffled around to different departments. A few of them, who I felt the most camaraderie for, are moving on with new employment. I continue to work at my deli job. I really have checked out of there emotionally. I'm past ready for new employment. I've said it before. I shall say it again. I'd like to work in a office because I don't have the degree I need to do what I really want to do. Without a degree, I'm left with a very few employment options: retail, factory work, hospitality, food service, banking or office work. If I was employed in a different retail position, I believe I'd be doing much of the same. I'd be getting similar pay for similar hours. Factory work is to difficult. I don't want to do food service! Banking is for people who are good with numbers. As you can tell, I blog and am good with words. I'd be open to hospitality because it's similar to office work.

The house hunt and life continues. Need I say more?

To sum up this rather whiny blog. I always have hope things will be well with me eventually, however the view on the hamster wheel is freaking me out. I feel the weight of being mildly stuck and leaving an honorable legacy for my future generations. I've been transfixed by my genealogy. One idea keeps ringing true to me: my choices do impact others. I am living because a few someones had children. Their choices on where they lived and what they believed have impacted me. I know little things things don't matter like what I'm going to eat for lunch or what color to paint a room. Its the larger picture. After my last breath on this earth is complete and I have joined the faithful generations before me, I want them to know I've handled their legacy with care. Yes. Indeed I do.

Mayo

This is going to be an odd blog. I was just sitting here eating a chicken salad sandwich on toasted wheat bread, when I thought I don't really like mayo. Weird, right? I'm eating a sandwich that is a compilation of chicken, grapes, toasted walnuts, and you guessed it mayo. Mayo on its own is slimy. It reminds me of cold chicken grease. Mayo even smells gross, like three day old dirty socks. It usually adds about a bazillion un-necessary calories to a normally delicious sandwich. Why am I eating it then?

Well I thought mayo as a condiment is nasty, but in a salad it is a peacemaker. Salads are usually comprised of many strong flavors and textures. Mayo makes each of those items stand out while giving them boundaries. It makes you notice them in an appreciation of each flavor. Mayo then makes a stand itself letting your remember it's place, too. We can be like mayo. Stand alone and we never have the rough edges worn away. Put us in a salad, we can be an individual, a peacemaker, and a reminder. Be mayo.

Relief is spelled: I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T...

Hello everyone!
I am soo happy to be back in cyberspace! Here in the Midwest we've been experiencing ice storms. They knocked the power, cable and internet out of a bunch of homes around the city. I thought I was gonna go crazy, if I had to come up with one more random thing to do! My house is super clean. I was having trouble finding things to keep Dylan busy. I didn't realized I depended on the internet so often! I kept thinking to myself, "What did I do growing without a computer, internet, cable or any VCR?" I realized most of my time growing up was spent doing homework, reading books, going to church and/or playing outside. One thing is certain I am incredibly relieved to have both the internet and cable back up and running well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The search begins...

There is so much going on right now. I don't even know where to start. Perhaps the beginning is a good place? Lol.

Job Search
My job search is on going. I've gone on one interview for the temp agency. I obviously wasn't hired. The temp agency is not calling me very often if at all. I'm ready to do almost anything beside retail again.

My current job has been picking up in hours due to some rearranging of departments under a new store manager. There are a couple positions coming up with them, but I'm ready to be done there. I've already checked out there, even though I still have to continue working there.

Dylan
He is nine and a half months old now. He is crawling now. He likes to straighten his legs into summer salt position. I think he'll start walking very soon. He loves his bouncy toy. I hoping he won't discover the kitchen cabinets soon. (I can wish, right?) At his last doctor appointment, Dylan was 28.6 inches and 19.8 pounds. He is a healthy kid for sure.

It is for that reason, we've started looking for a new space to live. Andy, Dylan and I went to look at a two bedroom two bathroom apartment on Saturday. It was a beautiful little place. It had a washer, dyer, and dishwasher included in the apartment. It had brand new carpet glue smell. It had vaulted ceilings and big beautiful windows. I could've seen myself in that place, until we realized the rent was going to be the same cost as a house payment. We've started to look. It's been scary, fun and nice. We'll see how it goes!

Had some time off

I haven't written in a week or so. I was running out of new things to say. I spent my writing hiatus reading, cleaning, and officially joining MOPS. The book I was reading was about a mother's legacy. I was struct by the thought, but not enough to write it. That happened Sunday morning with my pastor's sermon. He posed the question: What if for one day Jesus would become you? He'd wear you skin. Jesus would work your job. He'd wear your clothes and pay your bills with the money earned. Your health would stay the same. Your car would still need every repair/maintenance on it. The only difference is that Jesus could make your choices for you.


What to you think would change in your life for that day? What to you think would change after that day? Would your legacy be completely altered? You see our lives are all just history wrapped up in a few breathes. We get to choose everyday who we will be, how we treat others, and how our choices will impact our family. This couldn't be made more clear for me today because of two things: the NBC show Who Do You Think You Are? and the passing of my Great Uncle Tom yesterday.

Belonging to NBC's: Who do you think you are?
About Vanessa Williams' Grandfather
 from the minutes of Shelby County Court, TN.

Who do you think you are is a show about discovering the ancestral roots of well known people. The episode I watched last was researching Vanessa Williams family tree. She, being the first "African" American Miss America, wanted to know if anyone else in her family were pioneers. I'll let you watch the show to get most of her family's stories. I can't shake the one thought from the show. She did find out that "her great-great grandfather was one of the first African Americans ever elected to the Tennessee legislature." It struck me that when this man, born into slavery, passed away his white peers wrote in the court minutes that he hadn't left much earthly wealth. But he was "faithful and true discharging with fidelity every trust faithful to his keeping... he has bequeathed them a legacy more precious than gold, more imperishable then monumental brass, a spotless name." I'll let that speak for itself.

Thomas L. Hemmes
Oct 5, 1945- Feb. 7, 2011

I found out last night my Great Uncle Tom passed away. I never met this man despite a few efforts to connect with my father's paternal side of the family. We've never been close. I can just say not knowing this bit of my personal history has given me a few questions. I had started to do some research on my own a few years ago to fill in what was missing. I found out people make choices. I cannot fault anyone for decisions made before I was born. I think family is important. They are the priority that falls between God and work. There shouldn't be squabbles between family/friends that last more than a week. I'll say it again: Life is history wrapped in a few short breaths. We must forgive.

So what do these thoughts have to do with one another? Well for those of us who have made a choice to live for Christ, we have Jesus living in our skin. He is there not just for one day, but every single day. We have a choices to make. Will we wake up praising the Savior? Will we treat our alarm clocks with kindness? Will we forgive the driver who is driving like frozen molasses? How will you show love to your spouse and children today? Will you be able to be a good steward of your talents, blessings and finances? Will your decisions today be the legacy your peers and family remember you by? Would they be able to say you left this earth with a spotless name? Please remember the bigger picture.

So early!

It is 3:45am. I am wide awake. I haven't a reason for my being up at this crazy hour. I've been waking up around this time for awhile. I usually roll over and go back to sleep. Tonight however sleep escapes me. I figure I should use my sleeplessness to your advantage. You get to read my babblings. Oh joy for you, right?

I guest posted a blog for a brother the other day on what living the Christian lifestyle meant to me. I find myself thinking about the concepts I put in there. While I back the things I wrote, I'm finding the execution of them to be a challenge at the moment. I'll be honest. I am not where I should be spiritually. There are no valid excuses. I have been chasing my own proverbial tail trying to get answers. I am very tired in every way. There isn't a way to take a vacation from yourself. Where you go, there you are... I still have felt like I was aimlessly wondering when things are good spiritually, physically, emotionally, and relationally. I want to shake that off! Its no fun to having a restless spirit and to feel misplaced. Whatever! I' going to attempt to return to bed. This late night drivel has gone on long enough...