A Scroll BONFIRE!

At the end of a past post ("Scrolls to Burn") I had referred to another scroll to burn as future blogging material.  Well, here's the future.  The conviction has not left, the reasons have only multiplied, and now a call to obedience.  Let me clarify one thing now: this is a conviction specific to ME, and I will explain that later.


Yesterday someone posted an article on Facebook.  (Hm, I find it interesting that my spellcheck is capitalizing Facebook.)  Anyway, I will post a link to this exact article at the bottom of this post.  Basically it was talking about our addiction to digital technology, social media, and it's effects on our world- immediate and long-term.  How our children are growing up in this culture and will never know what it's like to NOT have Facebook.  Or even cell phones, texting, twitter, all of it.  How our self-esteem is determined by our updates, check-ins, tweets.  How our obsession with posting data about our kids is destroying our children's privacy.  Reading this article was just enough of the nudge I needed to make the change that has been needed for quite some time....


Ok so the scroll to burn is my Facebook account.  Yes, my digital connection to sooo many friends (and family even) is what I need to be done with.  Already I have received messages from people... "why??"  Well, a few reasons... firstly, the TIME.  The time it takes away from my family, my girls, my home, my God.  The laundry that's sitting on the couch not being folded, the dishes that are sitting dirty in the sink, the daughter that's asking for something, the time that could be spent in the Word during what may be my only brevity of quiet for the entire day.  I hate when a day ends and I look around and think What did I accomplish today?  When I continually (and automatically now) throughout the day go to Facebook to send a message, post an update, check my messages, etc instead of doing something of higher priority, I am messing up.  And in turn feeding the addiction of going to other things to procrastinate/ avoid responsibilities that are requiring my attention, my time.  
Next reason: it's a threat to the simplicity I am longing for.  It was like I had this epiphany... I am moving to the foothills.  Going to be on 4 acres of beautiful countryside, and one of the most appealing attractions to me is the potential for simplicity.  Not as much running around town, errands all over.  More time at home, teaching my girls how to bake (heck, teaching MYSELF how to bake), growing vegetables, watching my girls ride bikes, gardening, etc etc.  But yet how can I live that simple life when I spend so much time on my computer or cell phone?  I'll be so busy posting pictures of the garden or girls riding bikes that I miss out on actually enjoying it.  Now this is where I wanted to speak for what's specific to me.  I can already sense all the defense mechanisms kicking into gear and hear the claims: Facebook isn't a bad thing!  I agree, it's not.  What IS a bad thing is when I allow it to consume so much of my time that I ignore much more important things.  And since I apparently don't have the discipline to Facebook in moderation, it has to end.  
Another reason... and this goes along with the desire for a simpler life, I don't want my girls growing up seeing Mom and Dad so well connected to their lap tops, iPads and iPhones that it places technology and connectivity on such a pedestal.  Instead my desire is for them to see our highest value is connectivity with the Creator of the universe.  Perhaps we as a modern culture have become so connected technologically that we have forgotten the necessity of connectivity to God.   And not just connectivity-  close communion.  Constant communication.  Imagine if we communicated with God as often as we communicate on Facebook.  What would THAT say to our children?  I have been so burdened lately with the world our little ones are growing up in.  And the values and truths I need to instill in them.  I need to be intentional in my parenting, proactive in my setting an example, passionate for the things of God, and fighting for an ultimate goal, a higher purpose, a chief aim... glorifying God.  The only One worthy of it.  The only One worthy of my time and my affections.  The One who stirs and brings about changes in me that make me a better wife, a better mom, a better daughter, sister, friend.  So can I give up Facebook for Him?  To make more time for Him?  To follow a conviction and be a better example to my three daughters?  Yes.  Yes I can.


P.S. here's the article that pushed me over the edge :)   the CNN article

The Pickle-Eating Process

With V, one of her favorite things for teething was teething biscuits.  For Sophie, it was a big cold dill pickle spear.  I couldn't find any teething biscuits at the store today for Jo Jo.... so we grabbed a pickle.  Here's how it went....

 She's so trusting.

(Right about now she's not so sure about this)

 You can almost feel the shiver.

I think she liked it!  :)

Thanks for the Laughs, V

I thought it was time to blog some of the awesome things Victoria has said.... just for laughs.

• V keeps taking toys away from sissy and so I explain to her that is being selfish and that does not make God happy, we need to share, etc etc. A minute or so goes by and she says, "Mommy, do you like fish?" Me: "well yes Victoria, I do." V: "But you don't like selfish??"
• We are driving home from Southern California and in the distance V sees a semi truck filled to the top with oranges. From her spot way in the back seat we hear an almost whisper, "wow... look at all those cheetos..."
• "But Moooom! Marshmallows are a vegetable!"
• "You want me to paint your nails sissy? When I am 16 I can paint your nails."
• When discussing sin and the enemy with V... "Well when the devil tries to get at you, you can just run away as fast as you can!"
• Me: "V you need to clean up your room, it's a mess." V: "I'm not too excited about that right now."
• V asks me if I can do a headstand. Me: "No way jose!" V: "Ok, but don't call me jose anymore."
• Sophie and V begin to fight (physically) so I get in there and break it up. I have Sophie apologize and ask V for forgiveness for pushing her. V is not willing to forgive and so I ask her, "V, what do you think Jesus would do if He were here?" ..... After a long pause she answers, "Give us spankings"
• "I have something very important to tell you Mom.... it's best to give than receive."
• Me: "You know what's so special V? Since you asked Jesus into your heart you will go to heaven someday. And I will go too. So that means we will be together forever. Because once you go to heaven you are there forever and ever." V: "nooo, then we'll miss church and BSF!"
• "Daddy is my favorite man in the whole world."
• V is trying to talk with me while I'm on the phone.... after I hang up I explain she cannot have a conversation with me while I am on the phone... I was talking to Daddy and I cannot listen to two people at one time. Her response: "But Mom, you have two ears."

Inside the Mind of Sophie

So you're probably asking yourself, why am I looking at a picture of Rolos??

I'll tell you why... this is what I was forced to buy at the grocery store while in the check out line. Yes, forced. Because while I was unloading the grocery cart, my daughter (you all know which one) was investigating all the different types of chocolate on the stand. As she picked up M&Ms I asked her to put them back. She did not behave while shopping (this includes running laps down the grocery aisles, playing hide and seek in produce while squealing at the top of her lungs, pulling things off the shelves, etc etc). Hence, no chocolate. So what does my lovely Soph do when she is told "no"? Takes things into her own hands of course. As I am unloading item after item I look over and see her with the Rolos. I ask her to put them back. When I turn around again, she is unraveling the wrapper. "Sophie! No!" As soon as she hears my voice those little hands of hers start working much faster. Now with the outer wrapper on the floor and the next one almost open I dart towards her. She doesn't even look up at me. Just snags the first spot of brown her eyes hit and shoveled it into her mouth, cheeks puffed out and lips closed tight just in case mom would try to take back the caramel filled yumminess. As the cashier just stares at us, like I'm some dysfunctional mom with no control over her kids, my frustration quickly turned into me having to hide my laughter. This girl, this 3 year old, is so gloriously different than our firstborn. I find myself at my wits end constantly. Thinking, what do I do here?? Victoria would never have done that. You firmly tell her no, and she puts that chocolate back. She may cry, but she puts it back. Sophie... cry? No way. Just shove it in before Mom can do anything about it. That's just a peek inside the mind of my Sophie. Want another one? Kinda fun huh?

Ok here's another one... yesterday I caught Sophie shoving her finger into Hannah's eyeball. Hannah starts crying and Sophie goes to time out. She knows she is not supposed to touch Hannah's face.... way too many eye-pokes, squeezed cheeks, nose picks, etc and so Hannah's face is off limits for her. So the time out begins, door shut. Within a minute or so I hear yelling. Loud yelling. Thinking she is mad about her consequence I begin down the hallway towards her room. As I get closer to her door I hear just what it is that she is yelling out in these angry tones... "JESUS LOVES ME THIS I KNOW! FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO!...." I stood shocked for a moment in the hallway. Is this how she gets back at me?? She wants so badly to scream and yell and be mad, and figures she isn't going to get in trouble for singing "Jesus Loves Me." Yup, that's my kid. That's my Sopha-lish. Thanks for making life SO interesting Sophie. I love you.

Daily Reminders

As many of you know, someone very dear to me passed last December. December 20, 2011 to be exact. Courtney Renee Conner. To me, Aunt Tee Tee. And the reason my middle name is Renee. This has rocked our family. She was a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL person. She loved her family. She loved babies. She loved the Lord. Man, did she LOVE. It hurts. I've never experienced physical pain from an emotional wound until that day my mom called. She was at Courtney's apartment and told me she was gone. In that split moment of muddled thinking as my brain was working so hard to process what I heard, I thought it was some sick joke. So I kept insisting "no, no... NO" Then thought, mom just doesn't know what she is talking about... she just needs to go check again, Courtney is fine. But it WAS a reality. One that would take a lot of time, and a lot of tears, before it set in. Moments of shutting myself in the bathroom or closet to let it out in privacy. Until my 5 yr old would walk in and I'd see her whole demeanor timidly change when she noticed how upset I was. Or my 2 month old would start crying, ready to eat. I had to keep functioning as normal. Yet, grieve through the normalcy?? How do I do that? Two months later, I see how it happens... I have days of tears and I have days of peace. Because I can say with FULL confidence that I WILL see her again. What a glorious reunion that will be. And through God's word I have a glimpse at what she is doing this very moment.... and that makes me happy. Happy for her. She is in her Maker's arms. And happier than any of us can possibly fathom. And what I am left with is daily reminders....


Every single morning I wake up and put this on. I adore it... the color, the incredible softness, the fit... it is a well chosen robe. This was a Christmas gift for Courtney from her mother, my grandmother. Yet she graciously allowed me to have it. Now every morning, I think of Courtney.




And these.... shoes she had bought for my girls. She loved buying them shoes. And she always picked out such great ones. For the first few weeks it actually was hard. I would cry whenever one of my girls brought a pair over to me asking to put them on. But now, I smile. I smile when I see them on, being worn, being played in. Just as they were intended.



This was her blanket. HER blanket, that sat on HER couch, in HER apartment. It was an adorable place. And having this blanket reminds me of her place. Picturing her there cuddled up with this on the couch. It gives me a comforting thought. Like maybe this was something she used when needing comfort. And I get to use the same thing she did. That's awesome.


I am completely honored and grateful for the years I had with my aunt. She made me laugh. She treated me as her own daughter, the daughter she never had. And I'll never forget the love she showed. And how much I love her. Thank You Lord for drawing her to you, for saving her. Thank You for her two sons that we see her in. And thank You for preparing an eternal home for her, caring for her until we see her again.

Scrolls To Burn

One of my ongoing (and probably never-ending) prayers is for the Lord to show me how to be a better mom to my girls. And, of course, He is faithful to show me. I'm just not always faithful to listen. Sometimes I fall back into taking the "easier" road and not fighting for what's best.... for instance my daily time in the Word. Because when I do, I'm a better mom. I exude more patience and compassion, and can really see God sustaining me all throughout the day (and night) in such practical ways. Or like staying disciplined with my home. Sure, it'd be way "easier" to facebook for those 30 minutes instead of fold that load of laundry I've re-tumbled in the dryer 3 times. But that's not what's best. And don't get me wrong, facebook is great. I love the connection and interaction it provides with family and friends. But when it takes place of my other responsibilities and gets in the way of my time with the Lord, with my children, etc.... conviction. Now, God has so graciously revealed to me the things that "get in the way" and are robbing my children, my husband, and Himself of the time that is so deserved, and needed...

The first scroll to be burned (Acts 19), which I have ignored and justified for a long time: The Bachelor. Two hours every Monday night. Or, thanks to DVR, at any point in the week that I could sit and indulge for that long. Monday nights worked out well though because hubby was at BSF. (I know, how ironic is that? He's studying God's word and I'm indulging in my guilty pleasure.) So I didn't have to worry about him interrupting constantly with his hilarious jabs at the ridiculous drama on this show, that for some mysterious reason, held my undivided attention so well. Even just typing this is humbling. WHY did I get sucked into that?? Why was I entertained by such immorality... the tears, the pride, the just plain drama? Aside from all of that it was taking up a huge chunk of time that could be spent in SUCH a better way. And the funniest thing about this is after not watching it I don't miss it. I'm not just dying to know what happened... who said what to who, and what did she do after she found out that she did that... I don't care. Aahhh (exhale)... such freedom.

The second scroll: texting. Another great way of communicating. Especially for the mom of 3 who usually doesn't have the time, the quiet, or even the energy for a phone conversation. However, it becomes more than that. It turns into moments that are as follows:
"Mommy, will you read me Goodnight Moon?"
"Yes baby I would love to! Just a minute."
type, type, type... oops! phone rings, let me catch that.... oh, sissy just spilled her drink.... ah, dryer dinged... Then 2 hours later she's sound asleep in bed that night and I am brought to almost tears thinking how I completely forgot about that book, that time with her. What does that tell her?! Mom's phone is pretty important to her. At least more important than this book. She had to send that message. No more. Again, it's a great way to communicate with people when it's convenient for me. But during the day, when I have a constant 3 children to care for, it's not convenient. In the evenings it is. Or early in the mornings when I am up and a couple of them aren't. So for now, I will not be responding unless it's an answer needed. Regular conversation can wait. Wait until after Goodnight Moon.

A few other "scrolls" on my mind but haven't taken action yet... future blogging material. ;)

Hannah Jo

The story of the birth of our Jo girl...

Our third daughter, Hannah Jo, born October 15, 2011 at 8:56 AM weighing a whopping 8lb 6oz. After many sleepless nights battling leg cramps, breathlessness, sciatica and multiple potty breaks she showed up. I was to be induced on the 16th. But no, she couldn't wait. Frankie was at work, but my mom was in town, sharing in the sleepless bed with me. I woke at about 1:00 am with my first contraction. Typical for me at this point. I usually had 2-3 each night. So I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep... until 18 minutes later another one came. Then 17 minutes later another. And that 3rd one was stronger. Longer. I KNEW after that third one. But also knowing Frankie was at the station and that this was the ONLY day my doctor wasn't on call in a 2-week span made me try and ignore it, quite the genius move. After about the 4th one my mom woke to my increased breathing. After about 2 hours of increasingly painful contractions I called Frankie's station, catching his captain off guard and answering the phone in a very scratchy 3am voice. That was an awkward phone call: "Hi, sorry, this is Frankie's wife... um... can you please wake him and tell him his wife is going into labor?" I think I could actually hear him jump off his bed. So Frankie got here within about 30-40 minutes, at which point my contractions jumped to only 6 minutes apart. I'll never forget slowly getting dressed in the dark and brushing my teeth in between contractions (didn't want morning breath when I met Hannah of course). Upon arriving at the hospital and getting checked in I was dilated at a 5 1/2. And I enjoyed it all. I loved just laying there talking with Frankie about Hannah... what she would look like, how much she'd weigh, what will her personality be like, what will the girls think, etc. And truly having so much fun while in labor. I didn't mind the pain. Well, until it was time for the IV. Barf! Ok I actually didn't, but I did kind of check out for a bit. Man it was painful getting the IV in my hand- it seemed to take FOREVER to tape it up all the while feeling like she's pulling the veins out of my hand. So then comes the nausea, the body sweats, and the, "Frankie go get the vomit tray!" Then I hear the nurse and Frankie talking about how ghost-white I am and that she's going to increase my fluids... then everything went white. Once I opened my eyes the nausea began to subside thank goodness and she stopped messing with my hand... praise the Lord! I was checked and now at a 6 1/2. I asked about the epidural and the nurse said they were still waiting on my lab results from the blood work. They cannot call the anesthesiologist until they have those results... Ok. Got it. Breathe through the next contraction.... Checked at 7. Ok, keep breathing... Checked at 8. Ok, ummm can I get this epidural before I have to start pushing?! After a long, moaning contraction the nurse darts out to go check on the lab results. YES they are in and relief (AKA the anesthesiologist) is on it's way! From then on it seemed to go pretty fast... my mom and wonderful friends Carrie and Megan showed up to help take care of me. :) We enjoyed hanging out and some precious prayer time lifting up Hannah and that whole day before the Lord... a time that I will never forget.
--Thank you Mom, Frankie, and dear friends--
Then, in a matter of 15 total pushes Hannah took her first breath of air.
The dr held her up for all to see... and through my tears I saw the most beautiful, most precious, most perfect.... chubby thighs!!! Whaaaa?? Ya, that's really what I said in my head. She was huge! And already had chubby legs! All I could do was smile. I had a big girl. A big, strong, healthy baby girl. God is SO good. And so tender towards me. And the reason her hugeness did such good for my heart is this: only something I have shared with a handful of people... when I was about 5 months pregnant something entered my mind, a deep fear. And it grew. I'm not sure what it stemmed from. I do know that I had been on a fast track of spiritual growth and desire for the Lord... and as wrong as it is, I questioned why? Why have I been growing so much, becoming that much more committed? Is the Lord strengthening me for a future trial? Is this my preparation for something devastating so that I can withstand it? I know that every mother's nightmare is losing a child. But mine became more than a nightmare. It consumed my thoughts. It made me sick. Many days and nights I have spent in tears... TEARS over Hannah. And she was perfectly healthy and safe in my belly. But a song would come on the radio (ie: "Held" by Natalie Grant) and if I had the privacy it would send me into an almost inconsolable state, begging God to not ask of me to suffer through that... even if it meant bringing Him glory. I pictured this tiny frail Hannah, and allowed my mind to work up a scene of getting up in the night and finding her lifeless. Then I saw this for what it was: sin. It was a sin to fear like this. Not trusting the Almighty and His sovereignty. One particular night I remember laying in bed crying as if I had already lost her... and I simply started praying for His comfort. For His peace that I knew could only come from Him. In a matter of a minute He brought at least 6 verses to mind... (mostly from Isaiah since that's what I had been studying at the time)

"He tends his flock like a shepherd:

He gathers the lambs in His arms

and carries them close to His heart;

He gently leads those that have young." Isaiah 40:11

"Though the mountains be shaken

and the hills be removed,

yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken

nor my covenant of peace be removed,”

says the LORD, who has compassion on you." Isaiah 54:10

"but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:31

I can say now as Hannah is 3 months old that the Lord is certainly working through that fear. It is no longer crippling. It remains in the back of my mind, as it probably always will for all three of my children. However, God has brought me to a point of... it is well with my soul. I am by no means safe from this particular nightmare. BUT, I know that should I ever face it, I can face it in confidence, in hope, that my Father will carry me through it. That I will see her again some day. And that through it I can fulfill the ultimate life purpose of which there is nothing greater: glorifying God. I know if I do that, I am in His will. And there is truly NO other place I'd rather be.