Mysteries of Motherhood

I don't think I'm going to be writing anything original here, but for my own well-being, I will now proceed to openly discuss my children - specifically the children when they are sick. 

If anyone reads this and can relate, thank you for joining me on this mom voyage with its unpredictable waters. 

My children live out colds and stomach bugs like their own odd little version of the 5 Stages of Grief. It's fascinating to watch and disgustingly horrific to take part in. 

Denial....

Both mine and theirs. It starts with an unsettling stillness, which can only truly be felt by someone who lives daily with excessively spirited small children. They suddenly want to sit quietly and cuddle you, perfectly content to watch 2-star cable kids show reruns they haven't expressed interest in since...the last time they were sick. 

As I write this, Charlotte is burning through the Dora the Explorer collection on Netflix while periodically attempting to burrow back into my womb. She just vomited for the 8th time today and declared with a sigh, "Mama, I think I might be sick." 

A wave of panicked curiousity engulfs you - how did they get sick? Weren't they just sick? Who else could they have gotten sick? There's only a week of school left - we don't have time to be sick. 

But first there was the denial. She insisted she was well enough to go jump on the backyard trampoline in her underwear while I was still washing her face off from the latest hurl. She tried to convince me that eating one of Sam's baseball fundraising candy bars was a good idea for lunch. 

Sam also takes longer to realize he's sick. And he tries to convince me he's experienced a sudden, miraculous healing when he knows he's about to miss out on something fun. This time it was the parents vs kids baseball game for his league, and a housewarming party at one of his best friend's houses. 

As soon as he surrenders his denial and realizes he's sick, he becomes utterly and totally incapacitated. He can't get himself water. He can't even push the button on the remote for aforementioned subpar children's programming. He's only 6 and he's perfectly mastered the cliche male stereotype of transforming into a complete and total catatonic state over the flu. 

Anger....

The big one is angry that he isn't allowed to climb the furniture or compose music on his ukelele at the top of his lungs, even when he's sick. He will forever blame me if he never wins that Oscar for best musical score or never finds out whether or not he could indeed fly short distances with a bedsheet and coffee table runway. 

The little one just repeatedly asks why - getting progressively more scrooged up and resentful with every response. 

"Can we bake something?" 

"No." 

"Why?"

"Because you're sick." 

"Why?" 

"Because germs spread." 

"Why?" 

And the hours tick by. 

Bargaining.....

I've decided you haven't truly experienced the brilliance of childrearing until you hear the phrase, 

"If I promise not to throw up, can I...." 

Or the child throwing their sibling under the bus, pleading their case to me as to why said sibling's diarrhea is much more offensive than their vomit, so shouldn't they be allowed to go to the park/swim/play baseball, etc. while their shamed, sickly counterpart remain jailed on the couch? 

When it comes to choosing a TV show, storybook or soup flavor, I swear I've never seen such betrayal. 

Depression....

"I'm never going to be allowed to eat pizza again." 

"Now I'll never have a birthday party." (In July). 

"I'm never going to get to do anything I want or feel better ever again or see anyone that i love again." 

You have a tummy bug. What's the point of living? 

Acceptance.....

This is the stage of childhood sickness where this mama breathes a sigh of relief. It's when these precious little beings, as crazy as they make you, settle into the crook of your arm and relax with trust. Where they believe you when you say the medicine will help, the fever will pass and the toilet will soon go back to seeing only one end of them again. 

It's when you're their safe spot. And you watch them sleep and check on them constantly because there's no one else in the world you'd rather be than keeping this boy and his little sister safe. 

Sickness sucks. But the few days of discomfort and insanity pales in comparison to the richness of knowing God has entrusted you with the great honor of raising up little children.

Which is where we meet stage 6.

Thankfulness. 

 

The Stretch of Futility

Last night, I came home with pasta, breadsticks and a slice of cake. 

"What are you doing?" asked husband.

"I am having a party. For myself." I declared. 

He looked at me strangely as I threw the kids into bed and proceeded to consume an impressive amount of spaghetti while in my pajamas at 8pm, followed by the cake. 

"Hey! Where's my dessert?!" 

"You didn't ask me to get you anything. So I didn't. Sorry." 

Apathy. Gluttony. It must almost be summer. The signs are everywhere that we as a species are about to cocoon ourselves into a world of swimming, suntans and sleeping in. 

Goodbye baseball.....

Sam's final t-ball game was this week. It was a muggy Thursday evening as two outfielders laid down in the grass, rendering 3rd base and right field useless. With a batter on 1st (continuously laying his helmet on the ground and then bending over to see if he could work his head back into it without using any hands), the final Giant stepped up to the plate.

The smallest (yet most handsome) on the team, Slugger Sam confidently gripped the lightest Easton authorized by Pony Baseball and got ready.

Strike One.

Perhaps it was because he was missing his belt due to laundry day. Maybe it was because the pitcher was distracted by one of the kids rolling around in the grass. I don't know. 

Pitch two. BAM! The crowd went wild! Although, with only about 9 of us present for this final, bajillionith game of the season, perhaps we could only rightfully be called a cluster or small gang.

Sam wrapped up the game by promptly losing his hat, which I didn't bother to look for, and he didn't even ask for a snow cone. 

It's been real, t-ball. Thanks for the memories. 

Goodbye school.....

I gave up on homework weeks ago. We do the projects, but the daily hw packet is simply busy work for smarty pants Sam, and I got permission from his teacher to "seek out our own enrichment." This week, they didn't even have homework. Why? Because the teachers are starting to give up, too. 

You can only work through so many spelling lists and listen to your kid holler "Donde esta la biblioteca!" into their online language program so many times before you begin to break out in hives and suddenly decide that watching SpongeBob Squarepants probably won't keep them out of Harvard. 

I'm logging my parent volunteer hours with vague, approximate dates because who the heck remembers when exactly the winter craft fair or taco night were? Sam wore pants the other day that balanced precariously on the border of navy (allowed) and black (not allowed). We've become car line regulars because it's unmotivating to walk your kid to class 

when you're wearing shorts with unshaved legs and your hair is still in Wednesday's ponytail. 

The strong majority of parents at Sam's school have yet to let themselves go, and it's super annoying to those of us who opt to look homeless in order to buy another ten minutes in bed on Pinterest each morning. 

Charlotte's situation isn't much better. Her Friday show & tell selections are usually unrelated to the assignment (although I still stand firm that her Ariel doll should have counted as something from the ocean). We also forgot her lunch one day, which meant she was given a Kid Cuisine out of the preschool freezer. She loved it so much she no longer has any interest in real food. I may be done, but I am NOT buying Kid Cuisines. But you should see her eyes get huge when she spots them at the grocery store. She dreams of frozen Mac n' Cheese glory days. 

Goodbye ukelele lessons....

Sam is taking ukelele lessons. The only song he knows so far is "You Are My Sunshine," which he insists on practicing only while playing along to "Eye of the Tiger." Go ahead and listen to one of those songs while singing the other....it's a special kind of magical....

Hello Summer Reading....

I signed the kids up for the summer reading program at the library yesterday. You guys, the city really wants kids to read this summer. Like, really. 

Upon completed registration, the kids were given: 

- a mood pencil

- stickers

- a gift certificate for a free meal at Applebee's 

- a gift certificate for a free meal at Benihana

- two Kings game tickets 

- free state fair rides 

Just for signing up! There are more prizes if they actually read. What is going on? Sacramento is on to us parents who have given up on education until August. 

Hello summer camps.....

Every year in Royal Stage, almost all of our Roseville-area participants take the summer off, and a batch of neighborhood kids come in for the camps. And every year I panic about finances, even though God always works it out, and our classes always fill up again in August. 

I can't really blame the parents, who say things like, 

"We don't like to have any schedule over summer." 

"We are going to swim. Probably...."

"But we have a boat...."

I totally get it. I applaud the intense amount of stress you bring into my life because I completely understand.

Be free, dance moms, be free! 

The stretch of futility has arrived and we are crawling along. 10 days until school's out. 8 days until swim lessons, 15 days until summer camp. 74 days until Hawaii. 

Done. 

Done.

Done. 

Adulting.

My friend posted this on Facebook today. 

While I was honored to be tagged in this post, I would definitely argue against how adulty I really am. 

There's currently a dirty laundry carpet on our bedroom floor, I have a weekend to-do list that stretches from here to high heaven (and doesn't even include laundry), and I'm fairly certain I have walking pneumonia again. 

In fact, if someone were to see the world through my eyes for a bit, they would certainly conclude that I suck at adulting. 

As summer approaches and I try to get my bearings, I was suddenly hit with the idea to move backwards. 

I took the kids to the library today and signed them up for the summer reading program - something I greatly loved as a child. And it made me think - who was I before events tarnished me? Long before I even thought about adulting, who was I? 

I think as memories fade, we tend to revisit our childhood in increasingly black and white recollections. We remember both  amazing times and traumatic times, but rarely embrace what was the "in between." Which is rather sad because that's where we discover the real meat of who we really are and what we wanted to become. 

I'm trying to remember more "in betweens." I have hope it will help me in my obligatory adulting of today. 

I rarely read anymore. I love to read. The summer reading program wasn't designed for kids like me - I totally killed it every year and it never crossed my mind that the program existed to promote literacy. Reading came so naturally to me, I simply couldn't imagine life without books. 

I want to read again. 

I was a total crybaby. My dad used to say I had oversized tear ducts, that I had an irreparable leak. But I cried because of others. I hated it when girls on the playground were excluded. It seared me to the core to see my grandmother's rapid health decline. I hated it when people were upset with me, and even more the fact I was capable of treating others poorly. 

I want my compassion back. 

I was never dry in the summertime. Sprinklers, slip n' slide, neighbor's pool, community pool, water parks, the beach, squirt guns and balloons....I basically lived in my swimsuit. 

I want to live at the pool with my kids this summer. 

I was creative for the pure joy of being creative. I wasn't paid for it, I wasn't attempting to save the world - I just created as I existed. 

I want to be creative for the sake of being happy. 

When I was little, it was a sweet life in a lot of ways. And by that I mean my sugar intake and TV time were rarely limited. But it really was an epic childhood a lot of times. There are things I can't replicate in adulthood. I live 3 hours from the beach now (dang it) and of course I can't blow off work and ministry to "create." 

But I do want to go back to revisit a little bit more of who I was - because it helps me to remember who I am. And it's incredibly healing to remember the good parts :) 

Surviving Summer

I feel things very, very deeply. Usually my reaction to something in the moment is not the same as my reaction hours later. Weeks, months and even years after, I'm likely still feeling the effects of one insignificant interaction or a superfluous conversation.

In case you were wondering, it's super annoying.

People who know me as the face of the ministry or some other type of connection where I am no closer than arm's length will often describe me as outgoing, bubbly, friendly and approachable. I'm grateful for this, because my life would be much more complicated if this weren't so. And honestly, it's not an act. I love people. I love who God has brought into our family's lives. It's easy for me to be over the moon with joy when I'm in the studio or at one of our shows/outreaches because I genuinely love what I do. 

But those who know me deeper, who have gotten closer - they would describe me differently. I hope they would still use the aforementioned traits, but they would likely bring some new ones to the table. 

Catty, guarded, fearful, self-loathing. 

My trust is glass. It can be transparent and lovely, but oh, it can be destroyed so easily. That's the main thing I don't enjoy about myself. That people who love me or genuinely believe I am worth it - I am so darn good at cutting them if I start to sense a crack or distortion. 

It's because of how deeply I feel things. As I've written about many times before, I have repeatedly felt fear and pain in the summertime. Three separate instances, years apart, devastating in entirely unique ways. 

Short story long, June and July are my frienemies. I love summer for the swimming, barbecues and vacations....but it's also the season that messes with me every year without fail, weakening my defenses and tearing me down and back into the original feelings I felt during the times summer wasn't so wonderful. 

The thing I love though, is that God IS working. I used to be stuck to the ghosts of summer's past like a piece of that super sticky packaging tape that gets caught up and clings mercilessly to everything. Annoying!. 

Now, I'm more like one of those crappy 3M mounting strips that struggle to hang on to the heavy stuff they were designed for. 

I am starting to heal. Bad is being replaced with good. I have some really wonderful people in my life - easy to trust and better than I deserve. 

But.....summer......

This year, I'm not going down. I'll be ready with plenty of distractions, and a heck of a lot more of Jesus.

I'm making a seasonal-appropriate bucket list. I am going to spend time exploring, playing and enjoying a time of year I've grown to fear. I am going to be very intentional with my free time, and work harder at things that are presently a part of my life.

Here's the bucket list (in progress) if there's anything you would like to join me in.

Things I've Never Done But Want To 

• Float down the river - I live less than 10 minutes from a big one - I've never been on it. 

• Have a legitimate picnic - red checkered tablecloth and basket, please.

• Visit a strawberry farm 

• Make a summer soundtrack that will keep ME on track

• Start a new hobby - because you know, I totally have so much free time. 

• Send a handwritten letter once a week - screw you, Facebook. 

• paint balloon darting - I've wanted to do this since I saw Princess Diaries eons ago

• Do work promoting my book - Was my book crap? I don't know. But if anyone is going to start supporting it, then I should. 

• Work on my new book

• Query publications I WANT to write for 

• Get a massage - I have a gift certificate from FOUR Mother's Days ago that I've never used!

• Make a flower crown

• Go on the world's longest water slide 

• Raise full support for the Royal Stage art house 

• Teach both kids how to swim

• Wander around the Crocker by myself on a Thursday evening 

Things I've Done But Love...So I'm Doing Them Again

• Farmer's market - when it first opens, priority items are oranges and a flower bouquet.

• Beach! 

• Go bowling - Charlotte is currently the best bowler in our family (?!?!) 

• Go to Bingo 

• Go to a craft faire

• Exercise 

• Go night swimming

• Read a book (or two or three...)

• Road trip with Frank ....don't care where we go, as long as we go. 

• Go to Hawaii (tickets purchased! Yeah!) 

Things I Have Done And WON'T Do Again 

• Be emotionally cruel when I'm frustrated

• Look behind me. There's nothing worth seeing there. 

• Rope swing into a lake 

Farewell to the Threenager

I had a small gift ready for eager hands yesterday morning, along with a bundle of new princess stickers. Gold balloons were tied to the chairs & chandelier with lace ribbon, and even though I'm not the biggest fan of commercialized character goodies, there was an obligatory Anna & Elsa balloon. Her name was spelled out in some scrapbook paper remnants, and when she woke up, we of course had pancakes. 

And then she was 4. 

Charlotte came into my life right when I needed her. We were in the midst of a gut-wrenching life transition when

I found out I was pregnant, and she diverted my focus away from some very painful things. She gave me a renewed purpose in a way. 

On the day she was born, it suddenly started to hail. This year she brought the freak weather along with her again as we enjoyed thunder and lightning in the middle of May. 

She spent the first 6 months of her life silently judging the world - this girl could frown! I knew we were in for it. 

Then, she turned into a bright blue-eyed goof and has upheld that reputation ever since. 

She is the most ticklish person on Earth, with even the very threat sending her into a sea of giggles. She loves princesses and pink (purple the most....but no one's perfect...), and she's friendly and bright. More often than not, she is a little sass and challenges me in ways her brother hasn't. 

She's my wingman. She's always near me and wanting to do what I do and be where I am. 

Some days I just have to breathe and remind myself that even when it takes twice as long to get things done, these days are fleeting and one day I'll miss her being under my feet. 

She loves her trampoline, gymnastics and being outside. She is a girly girl with a tough side, and she shares with me a passion to do things that scare her just to prove fear wrong. 

She's already a gifted artist, a logical thinker (thank you, Warta genes!) and a terrible singer. She has a head full of blonde curls that swirl tighter on rainy days and she hates to leave the house without her nails done. 

Charlotte is such a fun combination of excessive frivolity and determined chutzpah, that knowing her is an exciting little roller coaster of childhood glee and precocious insight. 

And now she is four. 

Today was her first real "friend party"  made up of her current tiny colleagues and her favorite grownups. We chose a pancake theme because Charlotte wants pancakes...All. The. Time. 

We go to sushi, she asks for pancakes. 

We go to mexican, she wants pancakes. 

I could make pancakes with my eyes closed and also tell you right away which places around town serve the best kids pancakes for the best price. 

I wanted to do something different, so we opted to have her party at 9:30 in the morning. We invited everyone to come in their pajamas, and it was wonderful having a party no one really had to get ready for! 

We had plain & blueberry pancakes, pop tarts & donuts, bacon, tater tots and a pancake decorating station with chocolate, strawberries, bananas, Nutella, marshmallows, chocolate chips, honey, peach yogurt, whipped cream and of course rainbow sprinkles. 

The decorating station got bum rushed by little eaters before I could get a photo. I love feeding people. I hope as my kids grow older, our house becomes a reliable spot to eat good food and leave happy and sleepy. 

Frank's mom made a Texas sheet cake and of course, we stuck a stack of tiny pancakes on top. 

Charlotte had a wonderful crew of friends she's growing up with. I'm thankful for them and their amazing parents. It's a wonderful thing to feel your children are safe in "a village." 

    Char in our backyard in her jammies with her sweet friend, Jayden. 

    We are going to miss Allie so, so    

    much after they move next month. My 

    heart aches. 

    "Say, pancakes!" 

 

    In case of a zombie apocalypse, all the kids can take shelter on our trampoline...

    Her favorite gift (and my worst nightmare). 

Happy birthday, my sweet, sassy, silly Charlotte June. I hope you grow up feeling loved, valued, and confident in yourself and the abilities God has and will bless you with. You invited Jesus into your heart this year, and I know He has a hand on you as I watch your compassionate spirit toward people and animals (especially kittens - your tiny voice hits new high ranges whenever you see one.) At your baby dedication, the pastor prophesied that you would live a life like Mary as opposed to Martha - eager to sit at the feet of Jesus and take His words in. May you never feel rushed to please others before pleasing the Lord, and may God grant me the wisdom and perseverance to always be a mommy you can trust and count on. 

And off we run toward 5! 

You are loved. 

What Goes Up Must Come Down

I've made a commitment to be genuine, because what good could possibly come out of staying quiet in the midst of a struggle? Silence so quickly seals us off from ever helping others - finding that one person who might say, "I feel this way, too. Let's not be alone, together." 

This has been a long, long road. Have you ever been driving in the country after dark, where you can only see a few feet in front of you? Have you ever had that anxious pause in your throat as you keep moving forward but really have no idea what's up ahead or how long the road is going to be? 

I'm so tired of that cloud of dread and anticipation, and I want very much to pull over off of life's highway and just.....stop.

But then, God's Word. It gets me everytime.

Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have. Just dreaming about nice things is meaningless—like chasing the wind. Everything has already been decided. It was known long ago what each person would be. So there’s no use arguing with God about your destiny. (Ecclesiastes 6:9-10 NLT)

I have so much, don't I? 

Do I really have the right to protest against a heavenly daddy who has far from forgotten about me? 

I may not be running forward, but I can crawl. When my mind is raging and every ounce of my spirit is urging - no, outright daring me - to give up on this life, there is still hope. I'm still in the race. I'm far from winning it, but I can choose to stay on the track. 

This is a maddening thing. Many people have walked away, and certainly more will during my lifetime. When you have a legion of love and support around you and yet all you can feel is isolation and despair, some will break rank. I've been beyond blessed, but this crazy just won't let me feel that way sometimes. Often. Usually. 

But God's army of angels will never scatter. The commitment of Christ's blood will never dilute and the King will remain seated on the throne no matter how I happen to feel each day. 

So just be brave, sorry spirit. Take heart in knowing that the struggles have gotten  fewer and further between. You can cry out to God - no limitations or expiration date. 

And as long as you keep moving forward - even if it means pulling yourself along by your fingernails - the darkness will, once again, make way for the Light. 

What's Your Heaven?

I've been thinking about Heaven a lot lately, mainly about what it will be like and how much I want to go there....right now. 

I think I need a vacation. 

There are visuals of Heaven provided in the bible, but there's no way we could ever fathom the glory and gorgeousness of what it will be like with our limited, often distracted human minds. 

Maybe it's better that way. Maybe if we could pull up a photo of it on the Internet as if it were the moon or Milan, we would long too terribly to be there. This life would just seem too worthless and sad. 

Perhaps God purposely intended for Heaven to remain at least partially concealed, like an enticing Christmas gift resting beneath the tree and you THINK you know what's inside. You suspect it's what you've always wanted, but you're just not quite sure and it's all terribly exciting. 

It's like the Father saying, "What I have for you inside is so amazing, so wonderful.....to let you peek would ruin the surprise - the most marvelous surprise you've ever known." 

I saw a film project once that supported the idea of Heaven actually appearing different to each individual. That while there's only one destination, it will be experienced by each of us uniquely filled with what makes us happiest personally. 

I don't support this theory for all sorts of theological reasons, and for the very truth that it would take the focus of Heaven off of God. But....what we do know is that in Heaven, there will be no pain, suffering or tears. (Rev 21:4). 

So, in a way, isn't it all we've ever dreamed of it being anyhow? If we are experiencing it with the purest, fullest joy and comfort imaginable, wouldn't we so very quickly change our dream to match?

Man, I want to go to Heaven so much. Right now. 

If you could create the landscape of Heaven, based upon what brings you the fullest of joys right now, what would it look like? 

Sometimes we need to make our own Heaven here on Earth in order to cope. We love things too much, like the Egyptians who placed their valuables and prized possessions in their tombs so they could enjoy them in the after life. 

It sounds so remarkable and freeing to think about just letting go and just GOING, after all of our years being taught to weigh down and hang on. 

Heaven will be better than stuff.

Better than love from a spouse or friend.

Better than our love for our kids. (Whoa).

Better than the most beautiful destination.

Better than it all. 

What are your personal "better than"s?

For me, Heaven will be better than a blustery fall day or a drizzling spring rain.

Better than a deep talk that lasts for hours with a favorite friend.

Better than that moment of exhilaration upon stepping onto the ground of a new country I'm visiting for the first time. 

Better than my favorite playlist. 

Better than crisp pages of an old book. 

Better than the peaceful suspension of time on Christmas afternoon. 

Better than being home alone with nothing on the calendar except bumming around.

Better than Chinese food.

Better than a very rare day where I feel the slightest shade of pretty. 

Better than when both of my kids hold still long enough for me to snuggle them and speak encouragement and thankfulness into their lives. 

Better than the donut shop down the street from my parents' house that's been exactly the same for years and years. 

Better than the most remarkable time of worship. 

Better than that moment in childhood when things still feel safe and lovely.

Better than the best dance practice of my life. 

Better than a handwritten letter or card from someone I admire. 

Better than the most intimate moments of marriage. 

Better than an amusement park at dusk.

Better than root beer floats or warm, freshly baked brownies. 

Better than hair they stays straight all day. 

Better than when someone tells me they believe in my ministry, and they tell me through action. 

Better than a guilt- free afternoon nap. 

Better than journaling at the ocean. 

Better than total reconciliation with a long lost person. 

Better than a clear, healthy mind. 

Heaven will be better than all of these things. So much better that I will completely forget about all of these wonderful yet worthless trappings here on Earth in exchange for peace, joy and the feeling of His presence. 

Heaven will be so much better. 

I want to go now. 

An Open Letter to Summer

Dear Summer, 

We are downhill tumbling toward you now. My son has grown impatient with homework and my totally unreasonable expectation of him to bathe daily. He's so done with school. 

My daughter asks to go swimming all the time, and it's been warm enough some days to oblige. 

You're coming and I'm ready for you. 

Charlotte's middle name is June after a wonderful, light-filled woman we know. One who just radiates God's love, joy and peace. All we hope for her. 

Secretly in my heart though, I know I also loved the name because even though she ended up arriving in May, she was supposed to be a summer baby and something beautiful would've finally come out of you - this season that I dread. 

But this year I'm ready for you. 

This year, when the calendar changes over to the month of your arrival, I know that I'll start to remember again. I'll long for a broken past I can never return to, wishing I had said or done.....something different. I don't know what, as the years of hindsight still have not brought a different option into focus - but if I had the power to go back and change.....I would. 

Change me. Change them. Change the situation. Be stronger. Be more honest. Run faster. Fight harder. 

Something. 

But this time, when you get here, I will be ready for you. 

I'll be waiting for you at barbecues and pool parties. Through fireworks and state fair funnel cakes. Through the itchy sensation of grass against my skin, taking in every moment to just breathe and remember that I'm just fine. 

I'll notice you when I go home to visit the ocean, waves crashing hard against the rocks with the same determined force you always used against me. I write in the past tense, confident in my knowledge that this year will be different. 

I will not run.  

I will not indulge you by even putting up a fight. I know I don't need to. 

I will stand steady in the roots I have grown into the fresh soil of worth and value. I will be daily refreshed by God's presence and calling - it does not submit to the heat of your sun or the 

persistence of your scolding that tells me I don't deserve to be here. 

I will not be afraid. I've seemed to have misplaced my armor of fear, guilt and shame. I cannot find those walls I so faithfully hid behind. It's just me standing here now, pretenses retired.

For when you come this year, summer, you will find there are people who love me and believe in me. And I them. I will not push and test that love to the point of exhaustion - I will simply be grateful for it.

More importantly, I am loved by a big, strong God that is mightier than any memory. He's tougher than any trauma. Far more glorious than any flashback. More regal than any regret. 

You no longer rule my life now that I understand I have full access to the throne room of the King.  

I know that you're coming soon, and I am ready. I'm looking forward to proving just how different things can be. 

I am transformed and there is no weapon you have that can reverse it.  

That's the problem with the past, you know. When you use it as your only attack, you never have anything new. 

So as we tumble down toward long days and warm nights, I'm ready. 

Are you? 

Painted Dreams

I hate fundraising. I know there's a lot of super intelligent people working on medical cures and world peace, but if someone could use their lunch hour to invent a real life money tree or something, I would be quite grateful. 

Today is Sacramento's Big Day of Giving, also our final day of spring fundraising. There's a new vision God placed on my heart that I was waiting until our formal gala to announce - now that that's happened (and the response was positive, yay!) I can make it "Internet official." 

In 2016, Royal Stage will be opening an art house. 

Much like we've done with the performing arts for the past 5 years, we hope to do the same with visual/fine arts. The house will be modeled after the brilliant Art Besst in downtown Sacramento, only we will be incorporating the love of Christ into all we do. 

Our goals so far:

- have 3 separate areas: dramatic play, visual art and "faith exploration," where kids can participate in hands-on faith based projects. 

- have special weekly free days for area foster youth and low-income families. 

- hold regular, free counseling sessions.

- exist as a community hub for moms to gather while children play, so we can build relationship and host events to make them feel like royal daughters of the King, too.

- run various visual art classes throughout the year. 

Our leadership team is pretty jazzed about the idea of this house, which may or may not be an actual house. So far, I've always seen it as a house - a sanctuary, home away from home for our participants....but who knows where it will actually land! It's very exciting!

The last time I felt this passion and urgency on my heart about something is when we founded Royal Stage - and that turned out pretty well! God asked me to be silent and pray about the art house before announcing it, and now I'm excited that the word is out. Now I can get out of the way so He can work and make it a reality. 

Supporting Royal Stage today is one of the best ways you can help. Please consider supporting Big Day of Giving. We need you! 

https://bigdayofgiving.org/#npo/royal-stage-christian-performing-arts

And, after today I'm glad to be done fundraising for a bit so I can focus again on dreaming :)