Category: Mom

Jello.

Leave a comment
The other night, we were all sitting on our couch, having some quality cuddle fam time.  My 7 year old Soleil says, “Mommy, your tummy feels good, it feels like jello.”  Sweet, sweet child.  As much as I wanted to defend my mid-section-squishy-ness, by blaming it on the holidays… I ate too much… we just finished dinner… I’m about to start my period… bloated, ya know?  Instead, I just started cracking up!

Promptly followed by 200 crunches.

Seriously, I kept laughing about what she said all night long… and even into the next day.  But what if someone else had said that?  If P.A. would have made that comment, I would have decked him. Whoever coined the phrase, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” was… well, an idiot.  Words Hurt. They can hurt bad and deeply wound a persons’ soul.

As a Real-Life Pastors Wife, I am sometimes plagued by people’s words.  What do they think of me?  What did they say about me?  What did they say about P.A.?  What did they just say to P.A.’s face?  What did I hear from someone else that they just said about us?

She said, he said, I said, she said, they said, we said, I said, she said.

Ahh!!! Words can be ridiculous!  Because people use them and people are ridiculous!

I have been hurt by word wounds.  I’m sure I’ve hurt others with wounding words.  Sometimes, we don’t even realize our words are wounding – because we are ridiculous.  Words can be a huge distraction.  It can be difficult to heal from word wounds.

Just like jello.  My mid-section will never be the same after 3 wee Bab’s.  I can accept this.  I run an average of 3 miles a day, six days a week, 18 miles per week.  I take Sunday’s off – no condemnation – it’s my Sabbath, people!  I can run, run, run – but when it comes to the discipline of a steady regime of daily crunches, I’m over it.  I just. don’t. care. anymore.

I can walk around with my jello and be just fine. But if I am carrying a word wound – I’m. not. fine.

But there is hope. In Jesus.  I’ve tried other people, places and things to heal my wounds – only Jesus can.  James chapter 3 is a great section in the Bible about taming the tongue.  I’ve read it.  Ouch. But it’s not about perfection.  We will always have something to be healed from.  Or bring forgiveness to.

With Jesus, there is hope to heal from word wounds, watch my own words… and my jello.

Me + my jello & P. A. after the 10k Dechutes Dash – Bend, OR  Noted. By Les Babs

Plugs

Leave a comment
Every child comes into contact with one at some point in their life.  Some children attach to theirs, some don’t, and some attach to something else.  Some use it often, some use it sparingly, and some never want to give theirs up.  Many refer to this as a pacifier, a binky, a pacie or some other affectionate nickname. We refer to Selah’s as “The Plug”
If she starts to fuss, any family member might start asking – “Where’s your plug, Selah?”  “Go find your plug.”  “Plug it up!”  Or – “Plug it in, plug it in” – which then turns into a singsong rendition of the Glade smell good plug in commercials…These musical renditions can last for some time in our house.
Soleil sucked two fingers, Salem finally took a binky (as we called it then) when he was over a year old. I’m a fan of this plug for Selah – she’s happy – we’re happy.
The question is – will we make Selah give up her precious plug one day? The answer is – Yes.
In a few months, after she turns two, we will ask her to hand over her precious plug to the trash man.  We know this will be a maturing life experience for her.
As adults, we can also rely on plugs to pacify us.  These plugs are things we depend on to make us feel better, to cope with life, and help us get through the day.  What kind of Plugs do you rely on?
I keep my own “plugs” handy – coffee, friends, facebook, distractions, etc…
Do I rely on them too much? I don’t want to be dependent on these things to be pacified.
The truth is Plugs can stunt our growth.  In life, we need to grow or we die.  We need to surrender our Plugs to Jesus.

Noted. By Les Babs

Brush

Leave a comment
Those who spend enough time with me find out the inevitable, I have a short fuse.  I get angry.  I get irritated about the simplest of things and often my way of “handling things” can get a little ugly.
I yell.  I cry.  I sometimes
 kick and hit inanimate objects. I (almost) look like my (almost) two year old.
Over the years, I’ve broken two or three hairbrushes in the midst of my outbursts.
But most recently, Soleil’s brush – the only one she will use (and we’ve tried out several) – was broken in half.
“I didn’t do it!”  I shouted with relief.
No, this time it was an innocent accident.
Selah grabbed it off of the counter, it fell down and broke into two pieces.
How can a brush break into two pieces, if not slammed against something?  …I wondered.
Well, I bought it at the dollar store… I should’ve known.
Soleil will not brush her hair now, so she goes to school looking slightly disheveled.
I tried coaxing her into using my brush…but to no avail.
She uses her fingers to comb thru her tangles, and that suffices – for now.
Brushes are expensive these days… so this time I tried out the Target dollar spot – and had high hopes of this brush lasting Soleil’s lifetime…
Alas, it did not – she gave it a whirl and half way thru her fine hair, she caved and rejected this brush.
So, I resorted to extraordinary measures.  I bought a baby brush – the ol’ standby.  And it works just fine for her fine locks.  I’m thankful that God knows every hair on her head (Matthew 10:30).  I’m certain that He desires to take good care of them, just like I do.
The baby brush cost $4. Anger can be costly too. Trust broken. Feelings hurt. Bitterness lingering. Souls wounded.
I’ve learned many a lesson from broken brushes. I need to spend my ‘angry time’ wisely. On things that I should be angry about – God, break our hearts for the things that make your heart break – not Brushes.

Noted. By Les Babs