More Musings

Tonight, Brandon and I decided to celebrate life over two savory, perfectly seasoned, bleeding, half-mooing slices of cow. -More sophisticated people refer to it as "steak".

They came off the grill, sizzling, and smelling divine.

The kids' steaks which were really just glorified hamburger patties,( hey, back off... We don't cast our pearls before swine.) came off first, so I cut them up and dispensed ketchup.

We prayed, and eventually all sat down to eat.

Brandon, looking very smug over his manly provision, glanced over to find Graysen staring at this unidentified food with unquestionable disdain.

Okay, Side note--

Every night is a fight with this one. She never wants to eat what is put in front of her. It's some sort of pre-adolescent rebellion. I don't know.

Anyway, resume.

So Daddy points out, logically-go figure, that tonight she shouldn't want to make a fuss about eating because steak- especially steak cooked by Daddy, is a delicacy.

This, to Brandon's frustration, served only to increase the whining. The word steak could now be reiterated in a tiny, nasally, God-forsaken little voice to emphasize the object to which the 3 year old objected.

Anyways, the battle raged on until Brandon nonchalantly said, "But Graysen don't you like hamburger?...It's not steak, it's hamburger."

She replied, "Hmph." in a little high pitched grunt, and gobbled it all down before we had a chance to say anything else about it. I'm telling you, swine. Pin It

"Everything Looks Perfect from Far Away"

The fire is hot this season. Really hot. And my only hope upon realizing myself in this fire is that I can come out on the other side a little more new.

Yesterday, I watched my husband sell his old identity for a measly month and a half of rent money.

I'll explain.

For as long as I have known him, I could categorize the space in his heart by three earthly loves:

Music

Kentucky

And who knows why, but me.

His love is of the most devoted nature. Consistent. Unconditional. I'm blessed that way.

So yesterday as I watched him hand over his beloved bass guitar to a completely unworthy stranger, my heart sank. And a sickness crept up my spine that I carried with me most of the day.

It wasn't just a piece of wood he was getting rid of...It was himself. It was his worldly identity as a musician that he has treasured for so long. Music was one of his constants in this ever-changing world. And now it's gone.

We drove to Cincinnati to sell it, so we decided to go through Lexington on our way home to Bowling Green.

Brandon grew up near Lexington and has since had visions of the perfect little house with the basement that sits in the middle of the most green, grassy field that a kid could hope to play in.

Since he was a kid, he's dreamed of going back. I think part of him thought maybe he had imagined this place.

I've listened hours upon hours of him talking about that wonderful old house with the basement and the memories that he holds so dear..."Mom making fish sticks while I adventured with the farmer's baby calf" "Dad taking me running with him on cold mornings when I could smell the tobacco from the neighbors barn" "My faithful dog, Scout, saving me from the pains of death almost inflicted by the treacherous mountain lion"...

It was his happy place, a 7 year old boy's heaven.

The tales go on and on. And it's never been hard to tell that this place, to him, contained some sort of unearthly magic that would always be his.

And after so many years of pining for this long lost love, we went back.

I can only imagine how he felt as he turned down that familiar dusty road after fifteen long years of dreaming about that moment. I can imagine the anticipation growing, the lump rising in his throat as he imagined how it would feel to sit on this wonderful piece of earth with his wife and two kids.

And then we found it.

An old, worn down, lifeless house sitting on the most overgrown piece of property I've ever seen.

It bore no resemblance to that mystical place in his dreams. And I could tell by the silence on his lips and the confused, horror struck expression on his face that he had just lost his oldest, dearest friend.

He got out of the car, slowly looking around, and walked a few paces to the back of the house. He stood for a minute, turned, and walked back to the car.

And we went home.

The things we love in this world were never meant to last...And they don't.

But he's found a new love, one that never turns to dust. And he's given up everything to be faithful to it.

"For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." Matthew 16:25

"Fair are the meadows, fair are the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring:
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing" Pin It

Graysen the skeptic

So tonight Graysen, Brandon and I huddled together in our little kitchen and made some homemade goodies...cookies, lemonade, fried pickles and onion rings... Nom.

It was sooo much fun, and so calorie-filled.

Graysen hung around for the first part of the cook-off, dying to get her little fingers dirty.

So after I had cut up all the lemons I yelled to her to come help me make the lemonade.

She was sooo excited to finally be able to get involved.

So she ran in, paused at my leg, and looked at me questioningly as if to say, "Okay smarty, I'm only 3 feet tall, how do you expect me to reach?"

So I motioned towards a folding chair in the corner.

She walked over, grabbed it, and lugged it over to the counter where I was working.

She unfolded it and paused, looking first at the counter, then at me, then back at the chair.

I looked down at her worried little face and said, "Whatcha doing girlie? Climb on up."

She looked once more at the questioningly stable folding chair and replied skeptically, "Mommy, are you sure?"

Even my kids are starting to question my judgment. Great. Pin It

Brando 1, Callie 0

Okay, so I've been trying out some new recipes lately. All successful.

Kinda.

Okay, most of them successful.

I mean, I guess this one could be considered a success since I thought it was GREAT, but it's non-success lies in the disapproval it received from Brandon.

As a general rule, my husband eats the R O Y G (B I V) (These three count if you apply the rule to cotton candy, ice cream, or cotton candy ice cream.) colors, of the food color spectrum, of course with the added brown, white, and occasional black.

Well tonight we had manicotti, which consists of spinach, chicken, ricotta, mozzarella, and tomato sauce.

It's heavenly goodness in a noodly shell.

But Mr. Picky, to my surprise, scarfed down his shell and left the room. I thought, a little smug, oh, maybe he's getting more!

But he happily reentered with a bowl of cereal.

I thought, Oh hell no Hmmm...let me inquire as to why he is eating cereal.

I tried to force my best "innocently offended" face and said, "So...you didn't like it?"

I might of thrown a little chin quiver in there just for good measure.

He replied with all the superior grace of a gentleman , "Nah baby. I just like two month old stale cheerios."

Smirk...

Silence...

Wince.
Pin It

Out with the old, in with the new.

He has turned on me.

And quite frankly, I'm heartbroken. Our relationship just isn't what I thought it was.

I thought everything was fine, ya know. I mean, how do see you this kind of thing coming? Maybe I wasn't intuitive enough. I thought we were happy. We've been doing this for a long time now.

He was the object of my desire every morning. All night I dream of his strong, rich aroma and the warmth that envelopes around me when I finally get to enjoy him.

I need that feeling of security and contentment that he gives. I need to know he can be there for me, but lately...I've just been disappointed. He never gives me what I want. It's all about him.

I mean, I always put him first-no matter if kids were crying or the facebook needs checking. I give him sponge baths and sing his praises, and he gives me what? A mess all over the counter that I have to clean up first thing in the morning. An extra fifteen minutes until my needs are met. Well, I can't do it anymore. I won't. I will not settle for less than I deserve, and I deserve fulfillment.

I'm replacing him. It's going to be emotional, I know. But I can do this. I have to liberate myself or I'll stay in this unsatisfying relationship forever.

And I've already found a replacement. In wall-mart the other day I noticed him. He was tall and dark. I even checked out the back and all the necessary features were there. Will he bring me happiness? I think so.

Mmmm...Mr. Coffee...This is going to be a good thing. Pin It

Three year old wisdom

My children give me insight into my soul.

What's that? What do you mean a statement like that requires an explanation? Sigh. Oh fine, I'll indulge you.

I often ask Graysen to be her brother's keeper, and she rarely disappoints. She follows him around expectantly, eagerly waiting to be able to call him out on his wrongdoings.

So this afternoon as I was reluctantly happily making dinner, I called out to Graysen asking if Noah was being a bad boy. Her reply? "No, he's happy."

Curious response. So curious in fact, that I thought about it a lot of the afternoon.(Okay, I'm a stay at home mom...How much do I really have to do? Oh, bug off...) Anyway, I think my insightful little sprite is onto something that some adults haven't figured out.

She realizes that obedience brings happiness and disobedience brings sorrow. Poignant for a three year old... Is this epiphany material? Probably not. Is it stunningly convicting? I think so.

So I've already confessed in my previous blog that I haven't been a very good girl as of late. Well, I haven't been a very happy girl as of late either. And forgive me if I sound like a clincher in a Nicholas Sparks novel, but I'm convicted that the reason for my recent peril is my ineffectual dwelling upon the failures of the people around me to meet my needs.

Well... are their needs being met? I can't remember the last time I asked myself that question. I think... sometimes we have to give to receive...(I know, I just gagged too.)

But seriously, I am not serving the needs of my family. And more importantly, I am not being obedient to the Father. My disobedience has chained me to my sorrow, and instead of worrying about the chain, I bark and howl at everyone around me. I am not rejoicing in the Lord always, nor am I looking after the interest of others. I am just worried about how they are not fixing me.

I am happiest when I get what I want am being obedient to my Creator. I must have the attention span of a goldfish to have to remind myself of that so often...but what joy comes from remembering that my Savior was perfectly obedient! He suffered my death because He knew I couldn't do it. Wow. Hallelujah, what a Savior.

"To see the Law by Christ fulfilled,
To hear His pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child
And duty into choice."


I promise my next entry will be light and fun and not at all thought provoking. Pin It

Thanks anyway

I think you should know, I'm a whiner. I often feel sorry for myself. True story. I do.

As a young mom and housewife, I often feel like I spend all my time working effortlessly to do things for my family that no one appreciates. And unlike some people, I take no pleasure in martyrdom. It's unrewarding. And I take little pride in being self-sacrificing unless someone is there to see it and reward me with a cookie...there, I said it.

Now, lately I've been feeling extra sorry for myself due to an overall increase in the stress level at the Morgan house. Tension is high and there is little room for praise and adoration for mommy, which is no good, seeing as how I need those things. And I have felt like an annoyance to my husband and a tyrant to my kids. And I want to believe that I don't deserve to feel that way, but the truth is...

I am chief of sinners. I hate being submissive. I am a tyrant to my kids. I completely lack self-control, and I hate being selfless, even when it's absolutely necessary. And no, I'm not just being self-deprecating. There are things I do like about myself-probably too many for me to NOT be considered a little vain, but in a stroke of grace I realize that I too often find myself complacent in my sin. And I'm saddened at my measly attempts to justify myself and feel self-righteous. What am I thinking? I'm saddened that my family has to live with me this way most of the time and I'm grateful that they love me, even in this messy state that I'm in.

Thanks guys.

And at the risk of seeming a little melodramatic...

The past five years have been filled to the brim with laughter, tears, hard work, laziness, selfishness, self-sacrifice, loneliness, companionship, snuggles, conversations to be proud of, and conversations that are best stored in the repressed memory section of your brain. In all these, Brandon, I love you. And I'm grateful for you.

I poorly suffice to give you the thanks you deserve for putting up with me in my radiantly sinful glory. I'm so thankful to be the girl next to you in family photos, and I'm proud of you for your hard work and obvious sacrifice. This home is the happy, comfortable place that it is because of your passion for the gospel and understanding of grace and sufficiency in Christ.

Thank you so much for being the strong leader that I absolutely require, but never deserve. Pin It