"My grace is sufficient"

I can't tear myself away from the coverage of what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary. It hits home in all areas of my life: professionally and personally. The little faces of the students that were killed remind me so much of Harrison and Henry. I can't imagine what those parents are going through. The stories that come out about each little kid and the pictures that they post makes me so sad. And then I think about all of the times that I sat through a drill as a classroom teacher to prepare for a situation like the teachers experience d las t Friday. One time at my school, t eachers weren't warned ahead of time that there would be an intruder drill. It occurred to me that our school could be under some sort of an attack. I prepared like I was trained to do, but debated how to react if someone entered my classroom. I am a mom. I have two little boys. But there were so many other little kids whose parents who trust me to protect their students and keep them safe. Would

It's in the sweet memory of my Grandpap's smell of leather and shampoo; the way he would twiddle his thumbs while he drove. It's in the dust of the pews, the statue of the crucifix, and the stained glass windows of St. Patrick's church; where I first remember His whispers. When I look over the ocean and feel the briny smell of the air as the sun kisses my skin. I watch the waves crash and melt back into the sea. There's a depth there that I can't place. The silent magic at Christmas. The decorations, the pine, the lights, the tinsel. A universal understanding that there's something more; it implores our soul to believe in the unseen. The plump softness of a baby's fat leg. The peace that comes when those hands touch my face, or when he falls asleep on my chest. Weekend trips with friends. Playing "Casper" and praying with my baby brother.  The warm smell of pumpkin pie at Grandma's and the sound of my aunts and cousins laughing. A l

It was fall semester 2002 at Mira Costa when I first noticed Jon. I was in "elementary math", a pre-requisite for elementary school teachers. The first day of school, I tried to get his attention. I was paired up with an older man to introduce one another to the class. I did my best to be funny and get Jon to laugh. The rest of the class did, but he made no notice. This was out of character for me. I usually was not the type to try and scope out my classmates. I liked making friends at school, but I was not really ever wanting to date anyone. I remember later, sitting in a group with all of the younger girls in our class; each one gorgeous. I got an answer from each, that every one already had a boyfriend. "That one's mine." I said. He would walk past me every day after class, and not even look at me. He seemed like a pretentious jock. But there was something different about him. I had to find a way to get him to take me on a date. I felt a sense of urgency; he

I have been putting off this blog topic for a while, but for some reason, it has never escaped me from wanting to write about it. Lately, God has been tugging at my heart to finally publish it. So, embarrassing, private, and vulnerable as I feel to write about it for others to see, I feel led and compelled to tell my story. I would say that I was always aware of my appearance. I really wanted to be thinner; and that desire went back to elementary school. I remember walking into kindergarten feeling fat, and sucking in my stomach. I was definitely insecure for the majority of going to school. When I was going through middle school, my parents were going through a divorce. Coupled with new step parents, new homes, and family troubles, I certainly struggled (as many middle school students do) to gain an understanding of what confidence was. My mom is someone who likes to be sure to fix problems. I think she saw that my sister and I were struggling with lack of confidence, and she sign

I think I am a control freak because I am human. I want things my way. I have my own perception of how my day should look, and I get easily frustrated if it doesn't go how I want it to. I have an idea of how I should look, what I should say, who I am, and who the people around me are; if that makes sense. And I have built these images up in my head because of my life experiences. Perception is quite the interesting thing, isn't it? We all perceive things to be a certain way. And I believe that this is a God given gift to man. Without it, would we get much done? I don't believe that we would. We are made in His image, and I think that all of us want things to be good in our lives. When they aren't, we get uncomfortable. Circumstance often drives me. If my day was easy, I can rest easy. But what is easy for me, might not be easy for you and vise versa. It's our own image of how we think our lives should go. Years ago, someone gave me a picture of a cross. It was r

God's love is infinite. He sent His son for me, to die in my place. So that I could have eternal life. This is unquestionable, yet unfathomable . I can't fully wrap my head around God's love for me. It is probably the hardest part about faith. I can understand the logistics of Noah's arc, and I know about Moses' law. I get that Paul was imprisoned for his faith, and that John the baptist ate locusts and honey. I get the facts. But there are so many times that I get stumped when I try to consider God's love for me. Paul writes that He knew me before I was born. He died for me. The fact that the same Person who made the Milky Way and the depths of the ocean, and the sky, and the Plumeria plant, loves me. I can't wrap my head around it. I know how not worthy I am. I feel like such a disaster. I know that I don't do enough for God's kingdom. I know that I am such a sinner. But  He doesn't care. He chases me. He loves me. Last weekend, I painted

Am I the only one who thinks of myself as innocent? My automatic reaction to most things said against me is to become defensive. I almost always immediately think I am right. When I consider the actions that I take, I don't naturally think of them as wrong. I know my motives, and generally think of myself as good. When I make a mistake, I feel badly. Like I need to make up for it. It's almost like I am shocked that I am capable of such things. Because I am a good person. I don't mean to ever be prideful, or judgemental, or decrepit. I just need to vent about others, and I have good reason to disparage others. And other people are corrupt. They make me say bad things. Or they are stupid. They don't make good choices in life. Most certainly, they don't have the same good motives as me. When someone does something against me, I want to react. It would be ludicrous to consider what might be the rationale behind their actions. There is a part of me that understands t

I was blow drying my hair the other day and considering the wonders of God: that my hair in the back of my head stops at a clear line on my fore head. It sounds funny, and kind of trite, but how amazing and intricate is the Lord, who thought to create a hair line? I am so grateful for Him. He thought out the craziest details when creating man; when creating this world. Without my hairline, I could not get most things done. I wouldn't be able to eat, breath, see, or have attraction towards me. I would be covered. I am grateful for my face, that is isn't covered. I want to know how science can suppose that a big bang miraculously evolved the human race to such a point that DNA molecules wrote out the hair line. Can a scientist answer that for me? Someone tell me that there is no God for sure. And then tell me that this world is the way that it is by chance. And that the human race is an accident. Explain to me in detail, please. Because I have trouble understanding   the argument

I have been reading Jonah and the whale to Harrison and Henry lately when I put them to bed. It had been one of those stories growing up that I could never believe would be real: a man inside of a whale. Right. However, as I grow in faith and understand the way that God works in us now, I realize how real that story is. God asked Jonah to go to Ninevah to preach against their iniquities. God wanted to use Jonah to change a nation. Jonah said no. To God. And on his way to Tarshish, (Harrison makes me call it "Tarsheesh") there's a  huge storm. The drivers of the ship are finally persuaded by Jonah to throw him out of the boat. And it's then that the storm dies down, and Jonah ends up in the whale. Then, three days later, the whale throws him up in Ninevah. As abrasive, and quite frankly, disgusting, this story is, I am elated now to learn about this side of God's grace. 1 Thessolonians tells us: "rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circu

There is something to be said about a generation who endured the great depression, World War II, and who bore the great generation that includes my parents': the "Baby Boomers." I know that there has been a lot written about this generation. Many people, including Tom Brokaw, has called the "Silent Generation" the "greatest generation in the 20th century." And I agree. From personal experience, I have had the privilege to have had this example of the Silent Generation molded into my life through my Grandma Dutz. I am so fortunate to be able to have been blessed with words of wisdom coupled with a modeled example of what it means to do what is right. There are so many things about my grandma that set her apart. She raised 7 kids: 6 girls and 1 boy while my Grandpap was off on military duty during the Korea and Vietnam wars. She worked diligently as a delivery nurse, was involved in her church, kept a clean house, put food on the table, and made sure t

I'm a prayer raper. And I only know for sure that I am, because my husband coined that term one day, when I interrupted one of our conversations we were having, to bow my head and pray. I don't think that he has ever called me anything that has made me so excited. I'll admit; I'm awkward. Sometimes, if he is talking about a problem or a blessing, I will just shut down the conversation and start praying. It cracks me up that he said that. Jesus set out such a good example of what a prayer life should be. He, the son of God, Godman, came to earth and knew the importance of being in constant communication with God. I love his heart to pray fervently; it's so convicting. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to go into the desert for forty days and forty nights and pray without ceasing, and then talk back to the whiles of the devil. I would be more like Peter, who after Jesus commanded to stay up with Him and pray, fell asleep. While Jon calls me a "prayer

The word sounds unpleasant: jealousy. Words like: "fear", "anxiety", "pride", and "resentment" find themselves attached to the thoughts and emotions that stem from "jealousy." All of these terms would be the Lord's biggest opposition. The dark angel fell because of pride. Jonah fled from Ninevah because of fear and anxiety. There are countless stories in the Bible (and in the rest of human history) that led to destruction because of jealousy. In the book of Job, the author talks in the fifth chapter about resentment. "Resentment kills the fool, and envy slays the simple." (Job 5:2) Slays. Kills. That's what jealousy does. And that is why I am compelled to confess my sin. I am a jealous person. I don't think it is necessarily a light hearted matter. I am jealous by nature, and I am not happy to admit it. I would by no means direct the attention off of myself and blame anything else, but quite frankly, the world th

I am in constant recovery from a lifetime of thinking that what I know what love is. God is so gracious that He has spelled out through the pages of the Bible what He means about love. When Jon and I were first married, we were constantly arguing and pushing one another. Jon was graduating college, and I was searching what I wanted to do with my professional career. I wanted to go a million places and have a million friends, and he was comfortable sitting on the couch after a long day of working. It seemed like we had just gotten used to one another, when we threw a baby in the mix. Being pregnant was the biggest blessing in my life. I was so thankful that I got pregnant 8 months after my miscarriage, because it was so soon, and I knew that this was God's plan. However, during the time that I first found out I was pregnant with Harrison, I was in summer school to get my prereq's done for the teaching credential program. I was taking 5 summer school classes (which btw is insan

I know the end of the story. Jesus defeats Satan. He essentially did on the cross, where my sins were buried. I am so thankful for that fact. I know I have said it before in my blog, but I am not necessarily the brightest when it comes to a lot of things. I have never been the smartest in class, or the quickest in a meeting, or the wittiest at the lunch table. It has taken me a while, but I am thankful for that part about me now. I'm glad that in all parts of my life, I am forced to rely on God. It is so obvious that it is Him in my life that has gotten me to this point. By no means do I sit here writing today with a judgmental attitude. I have done my fair share of sinning. And I know that most sin is sin. My gossiping or speaking before thinking is the same sin as the sin that I want to talk about today. My heart is really breaking. I am frustrated with Satan. Honestly, I know for sure that God wins, and that He is infinitely more powerful than the enemy, but I hate seeing peop

When God of Heaven called me to follow Him, I was like a blind person unsure of what to know and what to expect. I remember praying that He would teach me and show me who He was. I had no idea the adventure that He would take me on. And I don't mean the kind of adventure that people write movies about. It has been more of a spiritual adventure. I look back on my old prayer books and notes in my bible, and pictures of who I was throughout the years of following Him, and I am inspired and stand in awe of where He has brought me. I by no means am in a place where I can say with confidence that I am following Him and know Him to the best of my ability. There are questionable choices I make on a regular basis. However, there are so many times where I surprise myself. It might be a reaction to a circumstance, or a verse that I memorized, that I sit back and know for certain that it was not me who learned how to be this way. When I cut back my plants in my garden, I get a little bit sad

I lack patience. So much so that honestly, when I have it, I know it's the Holy Spirit working through me. Sitting at the DMV, waiting for the computer to load, watching a commercial, or getting in line at Costco literally gives me heart palpitations. I know I am a product of my culture, because it is so America of me to choose to give my kids the microwave chicken nuggets, rather than actually make them chicken because I don't have patience to cook every night. For the most part, we all are impatient. We don't even go to the store anymore. We DVR our television shows because it's the WORST sitting through another Tide commercial. So wait  a half hour to watch a show rather than wait two minutes during each commercial break. We spend $10 on shipping so that we don't have to drive to the mall to buy a gift for the baby shower. I know you do it. You must. In 2009, on line retail sales were at $134.9 billion nationwide. In 2011? $171.1 billion ( www.viralblog.com )