Our lawn is hideous.
The sprinklers have not been on for months and the lawn's color falls somewhere between ecru and eggshell. It is embarrassing.
It REALLY does not bother my husband. REALLY.
I have begged, cajoled, nagged, made promises, prayed, complained, begged again, and been mortified when people come over. I have even contacted someone about coming to fix the sprinklers.
I have mowed the dead grass and tried to remove weeds whenever possible, but it is still an eyesore.
The neighbor's yard is always meticulous. We have seen our retired neighbor cut the lawn with scissors when the landscape company makes a mistake. He and his sweet wife spend hours each week pruning, tending, and enjoying their yard. I am sure that our yard is mortifying to them.
In the last few weeks, their yard has started to brown. Although still manicured, it is starting to look more like ours. When our son asked why this was so, they admitted that they had to let the weeds die. You see, I am afraid that the weeds from our yard have migrated. Without knowing it, we "shared" our weeds with the sweet folks next door.
Much to their chagrin, in order to let the weeds die, the rest of the grass in our neighbor's yard had to die alongside it.
I can hardly look them in the eyes. They know. I know. I know that they know. They know now that I know. But they do not know how sad I am.
Sad that my grass is horrendous. Sad that my yard embarrasses me. Sad that no one seems to care at my house but me. Sad that the only thing we have shared with our neighbors outside of occasional conversation is weeds.
More on the yard in future posts. This is not over yet.
Have a great week! Amberly
Monday, June 24, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Glimpses
We have had a year of "behavioral management" with our son. He is truly an amazing young man, but like all of us, he has some rough edges.
Today, however, I was given a gift.
There is a young man participating in our fine arts camp that has struggled socially. He has pouted, alienated himself, fussed, cried, and "over shared". He and Josiah had a run in earlier in the week because Josiah said something to be funny and the young man misconstrued Josiah's words as cruelty.
This same young man sat at a lunch table by himself today. I offered for him to sit at our table, but he preferred to sit in silence.
Then Josiah walked up. He sat down at the table. When the young man asked, "why are you sitting here?" Josiah said, "Because you were alone".
He went on to apologize to the young man for his words earlier in the week.
I sat at the next table praising God that I could overhear the exchange. And then humbled at the same time.
When was the last time I sought out the struggling? Sat at their table? Extended an apology?
I am glad that I have Josiah to help soften some of my rough edges...
Amberly
Today, however, I was given a gift.
There is a young man participating in our fine arts camp that has struggled socially. He has pouted, alienated himself, fussed, cried, and "over shared". He and Josiah had a run in earlier in the week because Josiah said something to be funny and the young man misconstrued Josiah's words as cruelty.
This same young man sat at a lunch table by himself today. I offered for him to sit at our table, but he preferred to sit in silence.
Then Josiah walked up. He sat down at the table. When the young man asked, "why are you sitting here?" Josiah said, "Because you were alone".
He went on to apologize to the young man for his words earlier in the week.
I sat at the next table praising God that I could overhear the exchange. And then humbled at the same time.
When was the last time I sought out the struggling? Sat at their table? Extended an apology?
I am glad that I have Josiah to help soften some of my rough edges...
Amberly
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
New Transmission
Our favorite local radio station suffered technical difficulties this week.
It seems that their transmitter was on the blink and therefore listeners were forced to listen to static for over two days.
I
think my transmitter is broken. I keep saying things like "I need help
with the chores", "brush your teeth", and "please be kind with your
words".
My family is hearing only static. There is no response. No change in behavior.
Can you relate?
I
sometimes think my inner transmitter is broken as well. I say, "I need
to eat less and move more". When the alarm clock goes off for me to go
to the gym, it is like my body did not "get" the message. My
metabolism clearly has not gotten the message either.
The radio station needed only hire a technician to fix their issue. I think my issues are not that easily remedied :(
I am so God is in the business of fixing that which is broken.
Psalm 34:18 reminds me "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
If you have a transmitter problem, or any other problem for that matter, know that God is near and capable of healing you.
Can you hear me now?
Monday, June 10, 2013
Saying Grace
We started fine arts camp yesterday; Scott and I have facilitated a fine arts camp at least once a summer for fourteen years. We really enjoy connecting students with the creativity God placed in each of them. It is exhausting and exciting... have I mentioned exhausting?
We have lots of new students this year. One of the newly registered students lacks social skills. Although there was nothing on his paperwork, I suspect some type of special need. He is extremely bright and creative, but struggles to filter that which comes out of his mouth.
When I offered an example in one of my explanations, he commented, "Well, THAT wasn't funny." I wasn't even TRYING to be funny, but it still stung a bit.
Words are amazing tools of construction and destruction. They can both encourage a soul and crush a heart.
Later in the day, the same young man made a comment that was an "open invitation for sarcasm". The list of biting and frankly humorous comments lined up in my head and fought for supremacy. It took everything in me not to say something snarky, but the sting of his words was still fresh. For the first time on history (not really, but it seems that way), I chose silence over sarcasm.
Proverbs 16:21 "The wise in heart are called discerning, and gracious words promote instruction."
I do want to be called discerning. I want others to think me a good teacher. But mostly, I want my words to be so permeated by God's Word that it could be called gracious (full of grace). No part of me is graceful (just ask anyone who has seen me dance), but my desire is for my words to communicate God's love and mercy so articulately and fluidly that they could be called gracious.
God's blessings on your week...and your words.
Amberly
We have lots of new students this year. One of the newly registered students lacks social skills. Although there was nothing on his paperwork, I suspect some type of special need. He is extremely bright and creative, but struggles to filter that which comes out of his mouth.
When I offered an example in one of my explanations, he commented, "Well, THAT wasn't funny." I wasn't even TRYING to be funny, but it still stung a bit.
Words are amazing tools of construction and destruction. They can both encourage a soul and crush a heart.
Later in the day, the same young man made a comment that was an "open invitation for sarcasm". The list of biting and frankly humorous comments lined up in my head and fought for supremacy. It took everything in me not to say something snarky, but the sting of his words was still fresh. For the first time on history (not really, but it seems that way), I chose silence over sarcasm.
Proverbs 16:21 "The wise in heart are called discerning, and gracious words promote instruction."
I do want to be called discerning. I want others to think me a good teacher. But mostly, I want my words to be so permeated by God's Word that it could be called gracious (full of grace). No part of me is graceful (just ask anyone who has seen me dance), but my desire is for my words to communicate God's love and mercy so articulately and fluidly that they could be called gracious.
God's blessings on your week...and your words.
Amberly
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Getting An Earful
This week, the kids are participating in VBS at a local church. This gives me five free mornings and I could not be happier about it (sorry kids!).
Yesterday, I made a long list of things to accomplish and then only got about a third of them done.
I did some writing, went to the post office, called some of my online University students, and read a few chapters in a new book I am reading.
And then, I attempted to have quiet time. I say attempted because our neighbors (who are clearly in the "pharmaceutical distribution" business) were attempting to continue a very heated discussion. I learned more about them than I needed to know. Wanted to know. Should know.
I sat there with my Bible, completely forgetting to listen to God's voice, and listened instead to the angry voices from next door.
Sometimes the "whisper" of God is drowned out by the shouts of the world. My job is to listen to Him and not be distracted by the drama of the things around me. The Psalmist encourages me to hear His voice and maintain a soft heart:
Psalm 95
Today, if only you would hear his voice,
8 “Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
as you did that day at Massah in the wilderness,
9 where your ancestors tested me;
I hope you have a great day. I am going to attempt to be an active listener again today. This time, if the heated discussions begin next door, I have some earplugs :)
Thanks for listening :) Amberly
Yesterday, I made a long list of things to accomplish and then only got about a third of them done.
I did some writing, went to the post office, called some of my online University students, and read a few chapters in a new book I am reading.
And then, I attempted to have quiet time. I say attempted because our neighbors (who are clearly in the "pharmaceutical distribution" business) were attempting to continue a very heated discussion. I learned more about them than I needed to know. Wanted to know. Should know.
I sat there with my Bible, completely forgetting to listen to God's voice, and listened instead to the angry voices from next door.
Sometimes the "whisper" of God is drowned out by the shouts of the world. My job is to listen to Him and not be distracted by the drama of the things around me. The Psalmist encourages me to hear His voice and maintain a soft heart:
Psalm 95
6 Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the Lord our Maker;
7 for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care.
let us kneel before the Lord our Maker;
7 for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care.
8 “Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
as you did that day at Massah in the wilderness,
9 where your ancestors tested me;
I hope you have a great day. I am going to attempt to be an active listener again today. This time, if the heated discussions begin next door, I have some earplugs :)
Thanks for listening :) Amberly
Monday, June 3, 2013
Field Trippin'
I got to go on a field trip. Just me, my son...and 52 of his peers.
About a month ago, I decided to take a day off of work and accompany my son on a trip to the Getty Villa in beautiful Malibu. It was a gorgeous day and even more gorgeous surroundings.
The motif of this "museum" is Greco-Roman art. Statues, mosaics, and pottery were the main attraction. They were amazing... beautiful...nude. Yes, the majority of the statues were au natural. My son had warned me that there would be a lot of genitals. In attempt to demystify and reduce embarrassment, his teacher had prepared the kids for the onslaught of, well...parts.
My favorite statue was that of Herakles (we have renamed him Hercules). Getty so loved this statue that he placed it in the location of highest honor: overlooking the gardens and with a perfect view of the ocean. He was placed at the very center of the Villa and all paths end at his feet.
It made me ponder. If a museum was erected to represent my life, I would hope that it would be Jesus that has the highest place of honor. I would hope that all who "visit" my life would see that all the other aspects of my life point to Him and Him alone. I would hope that when it comes to my finances, parenting, marriage, and ministry, that He is the center of it all; the Author and Perfector of it all.
It wouldn't be bad to live in Malibu either :)
That is my prayer today...
Amberly
About a month ago, I decided to take a day off of work and accompany my son on a trip to the Getty Villa in beautiful Malibu. It was a gorgeous day and even more gorgeous surroundings.
The motif of this "museum" is Greco-Roman art. Statues, mosaics, and pottery were the main attraction. They were amazing... beautiful...nude. Yes, the majority of the statues were au natural. My son had warned me that there would be a lot of genitals. In attempt to demystify and reduce embarrassment, his teacher had prepared the kids for the onslaught of, well...parts.
My favorite statue was that of Herakles (we have renamed him Hercules). Getty so loved this statue that he placed it in the location of highest honor: overlooking the gardens and with a perfect view of the ocean. He was placed at the very center of the Villa and all paths end at his feet.
It made me ponder. If a museum was erected to represent my life, I would hope that it would be Jesus that has the highest place of honor. I would hope that all who "visit" my life would see that all the other aspects of my life point to Him and Him alone. I would hope that when it comes to my finances, parenting, marriage, and ministry, that He is the center of it all; the Author and Perfector of it all.
It wouldn't be bad to live in Malibu either :)
That is my prayer today...
Amberly
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