Dec. 15th

I can hardly believe it is the middle of December already. 
So yesterday I sort of went off on a tangent.  I started talking about being thankful for my job and then got a little defensive.  I am working on that. 
I am going to go back to the subject of my job though because I didn't really get to the point I was trying to make yesterday.  That happens when I am tired.  So here goes try number 2.
I am grateful for a career that God has blessed me with that I enjoy.  I have seen lots of people go to work every day not liking what they do.  For whatever reason they got into the job they have, whether it was for the money, or lack of education or lack of other job availability.  When I was in high school thinking about what I wanted to do with my life, I knew I had to pick a job that I would like.  My dad is an architect.  He became an architect b/c it was a smarter decision money-wise than being an art teacher.  But it wasn't a wiser decision than being happy.  I knew I would never pick a job just for the money.  Because if you are going to spend thousands of hours of your life doing something you should enjoy doing it. 
I am grateful that I got to this place.  It was hard getting to be a physical therapist.  It is hard right now trying to get an extra certification.  But God helped me and is helping me all the way.  Someday, maybe I will even own a clinic.  I don't know what path He has for me.  But I know to trust Him with it.  And I am truly grateful that He put something on my heart to do that I enjoy.

Dec. 14th

Being a working mom has its advantages and disadvantages.  There is a big movement for women to stay home.  I get that.  I do think it is important for kids to be raised by their parents and not in daycare all the time.  But I also know that God gives us a calling.  Some women are born to be stay at home moms.  It comes naturally.  They love volunteering at their kids' school or home schooling, doing craft projects, taking them places, all that stuff that goes along being with your kids 24/7.  Then there are women, like me.  I do feel like I was born to be a mom.  But I also feel I was born to be a physical therapist.  I often get a look from Christians when they find out I work.  Like they feel sorry for me b/c we can't make ends meet and I have to work.  But that is not necessarily the case.  God put that calling on my heart in high school and it stuck with me through thick and thin.  It took 2 years for me to get into graduate school.  The second time I applied, I only got on a waiting list and I was literally like 124 on that list.  Pretty dismal odds.  I told my husband that I was giving up on school and we were going to have kids.  That was it.  I was done.  Then I got a call.  From the school, saying I was accepted and did I want to join their class of 2002?  It was truly a miracle for me.  Truly God's will.  Especially b/c it meant moving across the country to a place that was scary (Philly) and without knowing a soul. 
But I digress.  My point is, while I love being a mom.  I love being a PT.  It comes naturally to me most of the time.  When someone walks in my office, in pain, barely walking and I can provide immediate relief of their symptoms.  That is a good day.  A day I know what I am doing is right.  Yes, I am torn.  It is hard not being there for my kids every day.  But I know I am a better mom b/c of my job.  It might sound selfish and writing it/thinking it sometimes sounds selfish.  Yet, I know what it took for me to get to the place where I am.  It took God.  It took His gift.  It took His plan.  His courage.   I am pretty sure I never would have made it to this place alone.

Dec. 13th

Today, being Sunday, I am grateful for my church.  My husband and I searched for many years for a church that fit us.  We found a through the Bible church that we learned a lot from, but it was big.  2000 people big.  You could go to the same service every sunday for years (as we did) and see different people every sunday.  Plus it was a 30 minute drive which made it hard to get involved.  I know that sounds like an excuse but with 3 young kids, it was impossible for us to really connect.  So when we heard that a pastor of a church we went to long ago was back in the area to start a church we were so excited.  Husband went to the first service by himself.  It was at 5 pm on a sunday and kids under 5 were to stay in the service with the adults.  Kind of intimidating when you have three kids 4 and under.  I mean seriously, could we control our children through an evening service every Sunday and get something out of it. 
Now, almost 2 years later.  I can count on my hands the number of times we have missed church.  That has not been the same in our previous 12 years of marriage.  We used to miss all the time.  But now I feel accountable.  I have people ask me if we were okay when we missed.  We have a church body who cares about us.  A pastor who is apparently oblivious to noisy children (my daughter once screamed as I was carrying her out of the service "I don't want a spanking").  The service is now at 10 am and our 6 year old goes to sunday school (and in 6 months or so our daughter will as well) and we love it.  I feel it as changed me, finding my place in a church.  It has made me yearn to seek God more, to be more Christlike, to help my children grow in the knowledge of Him.
It is still a struggle to go to church sometimes.  I mean, satan really doesn't want us to go.  My husband and I fight more on sundays before church than probably any other time of the week.  But we get there, and I feel peace.  And I know that we beat satan that day.  He tried to keep us from learning and we beat him.  And we will again next week.  And our children are learning and loving God and I pray that never ends.

Dec. 12th

Yes, I know I skipped a day but what can you do.  Fridays are a very busy day for me.
So on to saturday.
Today I am putting up Christmas decorations and listening to Christmas music.  I love all the stuff that goes with Christmas.  I know not all of it comes from Christian traditions but I still love it.  It makes me think of family and my grandma.  My grandma loved Christmas.  She decorated like crazy, made homemade candy, put together the most amazing Christmas dinner.  Not to mention getting up before anyone else Christmas morning (which was hard with my brother and I anxiously waiting for presents) to make homemade cinnamon rolls.  Seriously.  She did not make them ahead of time.  She got up and made them fresh Christmas morning.  Every year.  I don't even know what time she got up.  Homemade bread takes time to raise.  They were always perfect.  The smells in her house were awesome.  She loved her family.  She took care of and spoiled us.
I wish I had taken the time to learn more from her when I had the chance.
Family, is one of the best things about Christmas!

Dec. 10th

     I know that God shapes my life daily when I let Him.  But there are specific things in my life, where I see His hand very clearly.  One of those things is my husband. 
     I fell in love with him the first time I saw him.  He was literally one of the first boys I met at George Fox.  I think it was his eyes that caught me.  However, he just didn't feel the same way.  And as an 18 year old that was so tragic.  But I got over it and we became friends of sorts.  My sophomore year, I was sort of discouraged about men.  It is hard when you are shy and you see friends who have boyfriends and want so badly for someone to love you.  But when you are still broken, and I was broken by my father, that is not a good time to have a boyfriend.  One day I was in my room and it was pouring and I was lonely and sad.  Then a beautiful rainbow showed up right outside my window.  And I felt God's presence in such a strong way.  I saw this picture of His hands, in one was me.  He was carrying me, molding me, healing me.  In the other was this unknown boy.  Whom He was also shaping and molding, guiding him toward manhood.  And I knew. That was the man I was going to marry. That God was in control.  I wrote down my list.  My list of qualities I wanted in a man.  I literally had no picture of this guy in my head.  I didn't see faces of boys I knew at school.  All I saw was a shadow, in God's hand.
     My senior year, this boy I had been so in love with my freshman year came back in the picture through a mutual friend.  He had just broken up with his girlfriend and started hanging out with my group of friends again.  I was so grateful to be over him and to appreciate him as a friend.  That is how I truly felt when he started hanging out with us.  And that enabled me to be myself.  A group of us went to the beach one weekend and stayed at Twin Rocks.  He and I stayed up all night talking.  It was amazing really.  I have no idea what we talked about.  And it wasn't flirting or anything like that.  It was just 2 friends talking.  When we actually started dating about a month later.  I knew.  I knew he was the one that God held in his hands.  I had found the notecard a few months earlier trying to make it fit to this other guy I was interested in, but it hadn't been quite right.  But for this man, everything fit.  There wasn't one thing on that notecard that wasn't a part of who my husband was.  He was that man.  And I am so lucky...no blessed to have him.  He is an amazing husband and somtimes I take him for granted and forget to appreciate all that he does.  But I love him with all my heart.
     If we had started dating our freshman year, it would have been so different.  We both had things to do before we could be together.  I am so glad I have a God whom I can trust, who knows our futures, knows our needs, wants what is best for us.  But also a God who brings comfort and assurance.  What an amazing gift that is in this world that can be so difficult at times.

Dec. 9th

Okay so this is kind of hard.  Blogging every day.  Especially in the month of December when life is crazy and I am too exhausted at night to even think of anything interesting to say.
But, today I am grateful for...the comforts of home.  It is really cold outside.  Okay maybe not Michigan or Kansas cold but cold for us western Oregonians.  It is a dry cold which helps but still, cold.  But coming home, in my nice warm car to my Christmas lights shining on my warm and cozy house.  There are so many people out there who can't say that.  Who either can't afford to heat their house or don't have a house to heat, people living in their cars, on the street.  This year, it is just really hitting me how lucky I am.  Sure I wouldn't mind a bigger house, a family room, a bathtub I can actually get all of my body under the water with, a kitchen with plenty of cupboard and counter space.  But that would just be all icing.  My cake, my foundation is pretty darn good.  It's home and I am truly blessed.

Dec. 8th

Today we got our Christmas tree.  I love everything about having a Christmas tree: the lights, the ornaments, the smell (okay maybe not the needles all over the place).  I know that it is not really a Christ centered thing.  People from our church set up a big manger scene instead.  Which I am sure is beautiful and meaningful and I might want to start that tradition some day.  But I am not quite ready to give up the tree for the manger scene.  Writing that out makes me think I might have my priorities in the wrong place.  And yet I still love our tree.  Because how ever the tradition of the Christmas tree started, it means Christmas and family and love to me.  And I guess that is good enough for now.
Someday, maybe we will have both.