Neighbors

It's a weird world we live in. I live in a cul-de-sac where there are only 4 houses. You would think I would know my neighbors really well as a result, but sadly we barely speak to one another. There are tons of logistical reasons for this- one guy parks in his garage and I only catch glimpses of briefly as he does his yard work early on Saturday's. One family seems to be coming and going a lot but head's are down and they always seem to be in a hurry. I have actually met our newest neighbor's when they moved in, did the Southern "bake some banana nut bread and take it over" thing- which they seemed to appreciate, but we haven't really interacted since. We are absolutely guilty of the hurried coming-and-going as well. And no one on the street has kids my kids ages/genders. These are all "normal" reasons we haven't really connected, but I keep thinking about the verse in the Bible that says, "Love your neighbor as yourself." I realize this is a much bigger mandate than loving the people who share Grand Court with me- but shouldn't it include them?

I was walking outside this morning to roll my trash can up looking, well, sketchy is the word that comes to mind. Tank top, capri pj pants, no make up, hair not fixed- not exactly my favorite look for myself, but this is how I roll in the mornings. I was truthfully planning to speak to no one. But my next door neighbor was outside washing his car. His back was to me so I really could have just walked back in without being considered rude, but I decided to just holler over a "good morning". (Side note- love the word holler. Did not grow up with holler, but after living in TN 10 years I think I've earned the right to use it.) So, my neighbor waved back and then he proceeded to tell me he's home from work because he is recovering from neck surgery he had last week. We ended up standing in our front yards talking for about 15 minutes. My thoughts while we conversed ranged from concern about his recovery, guilt that I hadn't even known and would have loved to have prayed for him or taken them a meal or something, self consciousness about my appearance, including but not limited to, worry that I was not really covered appropriately by the tank top. Conversation ended with me telling him to take it easy and let us know if they needed anything, and we both went inside.

I am confessing I need to do a better job of loving my Grand Court neighbors. I admit I get deterred by non-receptiveness on their parts. But, since I claim to (and do) follow Jesus, perhaps that is not really a valid excuse as the Bible says we "were his enemies" when he died for us. So I'm just going to start by reaching out with some chicken salad sandwiches as a little "glad-you-are-mostly-recovered-but-I-still-want-to-let-you-know-the-Russell-family-cares-about-you" offering. I'll keep you posted on where it all leads.....

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Today as I dropped Klynt off at school he was singing "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson. I like that song. It's kind of a combo of ideas presented in God's word. Both "get the plank out of your eye, before trying to remove the speck in someone else's" and "if you look in the mirror and walk away and forgot what you saw, that's like hearing God's word and doing nothing about it" and throw in some sha-na-na's and you've got it. Anyway, I've been humming it all day, and it got me thinking about what women see in the mirror.

Yesterday I was thinking about how tough it is to be a teenage boy. You know what I think is tougher? Being a middle-aged woman. I counsel a lot of them. I am one myself. In our culture, it's the spot where women begin the descent down the "beauty curve". Our world doesn't value wrinkles, or age spots or gray hair or jiggly arms. Our world values lean, tight, smooth. So as middle age begins the climb toward old age, and the devalued traits appear, we can no longer hide behind physical beauty for a sense of self worth. I mean, you can take up running and get firmer, but it won't take away wrinkles. (By the way, unless a bear is chasing me, I don't understand running. Why? What is the crazy love of running? It's like I missed a class in middle school where they handed out a running pill that everyone swallowed that promised to digest in 20 years.) You can dye the gray's but they'll be back in 6 weeks.

We don't just see our aging bodies in the mirror though. We see every real and imagined failure. We notice ridiculous details and get all our flaws and quirks out of proportion. We imagine no one has the same feelings of insecurity or unworthiness as us, so we make valiant efforts to cover and hide. We take up tweeting every clever thought to impress. We make sure to "check in" on facebook from any place we think will up our cool factor. We use humor to deflect- sometimes we tear ourselves down in jokes to beat everyone else to the punch. I'm painting a bleak picture, and I know we don't do all these things every day, but we do them sometimes. I do them sometimes, (except tweet, because I really don't get it at all).

Mirror, mirror on the wall- who is the fairest one of all?

So, are you the wicked queen trying to gain your worth by eliminating all the competition? Are you Snow White hanging out waiting on a prince to come and save you? Maybe a little of both.....

 The King already came to rescue you, by the way. Not because you were Snow White, beautiful and fair, but because the part of you that is more like the Wicked Queen than you or I would like to admit, needed rescuing. And He loves you. So much more than anyone in this world can or will. He sees you more clearly than you see yourself. The wrinkles, the jiggly arms, the bad attitude, the jealousy, the fear- all of it. He also sees the beauty, the talent, the effort you make, the desire to serve, the noses you wipe and the tears you dry- all of it. And yes, He loves you.

Under the Radar

He likes to go unnoticed which is nearly impossible because he's totally cute and has a gigantic mop of hair on his head that commands attention. He is completely convicted about the truth of Jesus Christ, but doesn't like all that "worship and church stuff". He worries about how he looks, but thinks he looks pretty good after all his P90X workouts. His Ipod playlist has both rock, rap, and the song off the soundtrack of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Bless Your Beautiful Hide. He is a 14 year old boy and they are full of contradictions.

I sometimes wonder what it feels like to be in his head. I've only been a 14 year old girl, so I'm curious and ignorant. I imagine it's really hard to be in the 8th grade in our world as a christian teenage boy. I pray for my son all the time. I ask God to protect him. I ask God to convict him of sin (especially the ones I'll never know about) I pray he will have courage to be true to who God created him to be. I pray mainly that his love for Christ will grow to the point that it pushes fear and hate and selfishness out.

I was looking through photos from the past year and realized I have very few of my Klynters. It makes me sad because he will soon pass through these years and be gone from my home. Pictures are my way of holding on to moments that have slipped past. But he hates having his picture made, so I try to respect that and only take a few. I ask God to etch the memories into my heart so I won't forget. I don't talk about him much because he is a private guy and I try to respect that as well. But, there is not a day that goes by that I don't tell him I love him, only to hear "love you too" in return. I hope he never decides he doesn't like saying it. He lets me hug him, but not as much as last year. Instead we use humor to convey our feelings, and that's okay for me. I realize to parent a teenage boy you have to be willing to change the way you connect so that you still can connect.

The other skill I have learned and am still perfecting is my "not reacting" face and voice. It takes a lot of practice but I'm pretty sure now if Klynt or Kyler came to me and said "I'm dropping out of high school to join the circus" I would look at them and calmly say, "what makes you say that?" The less you react, the more they will talk, and Klynters especially.

So there you have it. I'm the mother of three amazing children, but the one you don't hear much about is just living his dream of "living off the grid where the government can't find me." Crazy teenager.

Bunny Update

Ok, so we started with this dent in the giant bunny:

Then we moved on to here:

Then we decided the bunny smelled like mold, so hasta la vista rabbit de chocolate! 

Emma turns Nine (sniff, sniff)

She turns nine tomorrow. Her last year in single digits. I can't believe it has been nine years since I gave birth to the sweetest little Sweet Pea you've ever laid eyes on. Emma Joy has been a delight in so many ways to our family. Her spirit is creative, loving, sweet. She is crafty, sparkly, girly. She is thoughtful both about other people's needs and about ideas and concepts. In contrast, she is also highly forgetful of details and instructions. She enjoys digging in dirt to find worms, competing with her family in Apples to Apples and helping me cook. She does not eat spicy food, make fast decisions or want to get in trouble. She dislikes cleaning, spiders, and getting hurt or being uncomfortable in any way. (in some circles, Emma is known as dramatic.) Remember Pigpen, in the old Charlie Brown cartoons? He walked around with a cloud of dust swirling everywhere he went. Well, Emma is the fluffy, glittery version of that. I swear she leaves a trail of sequins, glitter and small scraps of paper behind her as she walks through the house. She is messy on a very extreme level. She owns hundreds of Webkinz and has a story for each of them. She never sleeps with less than 5 tucked in her bed with her, along with her special pink blanket. She is snugly. She has never met a shoe box she didn't want to save for some kind of craft project. (in some circles, Emma is known as a pack rat.) She delights in time with her best friend/cousin Hannah, any holiday festivities and singing.

She is precious to her daddy, brothers and I. And especially to her Lord who created this amazing girl, who I get the privilege of mothering.

Yesterday, right on cue for a birthday week, she conquered a task that has been a daunting challenge to the girl who doesn't like getting even a scratch. She is now riding her bike- cute glittery cat helmet and all!