Riding Waves of Guilt

I am a huge fan of natural, God created, bodies of water. I am not a fan of those encased in plaster or cement. Now you know.

I had the opportunity to join my son for a swim in the Pacific Ocean the other day. The thing about the ocean in Southern California is that at the onset of the salty water making contact with your thighs, belly and neck you can either feel refreshed by the cool waters, or numb enough from the chill to have surgery administered to your limbs without the use of anesthesia. Thankfully this swim was of the refreshing variety.

After a few dips and dives my body began to get used to the temperature to the point where it was addictive. The water was so refreshing that I was completely relaxed, laughing as my son and I frolicked in the waves and bobbed in the water with only our heads peaking up from the ocean’s surface. I could have stayed right there, in that moment, for hours.

I glanced back at the shore and noticed that my friend, Sarah, was packing up the chairs and umbrella, and making neat piles of towels. Evidently the two 8 year olds and 3 year old were useless as they stood under the outdoor shower rinsing off layers of sand that had stuck to the thick coating of sunscreen.

Over come with guilt, yet reluctant to exit the water, I told my son that we should get out and help Sarah since she was working solo. Without a hitch he informed me that the perfect time to swim is when others are packing up the beach gear. He continued with the notion that it is then, that you inform those who are intent on leaving, that you must rinse off your sandy body by jumping into the water, and then proceed to stay in the water until all things on the shoreline are packed.

That kid is smart.

I exited the water and my son continued to swim. Guilt got the best of me, and, my need to please others.

Goals

My teenage daughter approached me the other day informing me that she was intrigued by the fact that she and her 13 year old brother had one in the same goal on their list of goals. Before I had the opportunity to query her goal setting, and what that entailed, she was rushed to give me the information that was dying to escape her lips, so I let her talk.

“I accidentally saw Zac’s list of goals and we have the same goal.”

“What goal is that?”
“We both want to adopt a baby from Kenya.”

“That is so amazing. You just have to go to college, and then get married.”

“Oh, I’m not going to adopt the baby, you are.”

“Oh, really, that is your goal? Dad and I will have to pray about that one.”

Even though I was slightly intrigued with the fact that she and her brother both thought that we should consider adoption, I sloughed off her request and instead concentrated on her idea of setting a list of goals. I was less concerned with what was on her list, and more concerned with the fact that she had enough maturity to compose a list. “I don’t even have specific goals for my day.” I thought to myself.

A few days later my husband approached me as I was working at my computer and said, “I made a list of goals for myself.” He too was motivated by the fact that our two oldest children had created a list, and was inspired to do the same.“Can I read them to you?” I eagerly said, “Yes” and listened intently to his daily goals, which might I add had no mention of adopting a child from Kenya. His list included everything from answering e-mails within 24 hours to spending time in God’s Word each day. I was inspired.

At this point I realized that I was the only one in our family over the age of 10, who had the ability, yet failed, to write a list of goals. I not a fan of being “odd man out” so I made my list: Refuel spiritually at every moment possible through prayer, devotionals, and worship music, listen to voice mails and return calls in a timely manner, write for one hour, 5 days a week, and don’t yell unless a child is running out into the middle of the street, were a few of my 10 goals.

The act of typing these out and committing to adhere to them was stimulating. An act of surrender proceeded. I was certain, that only through God’s help would I be able to achieve all ten of my goals in a 24 hour period.

My son, daughter, and husband inspired me to make a list of goals and I’m glad that I did. Goals are good. Goals help us to stay focused. Goals give us meaning and structure, and, if your goal includes adopting a child from Kenya, that is amazing.

What goals do you have for your day, week, for the month, for the year? Make a list.

All Good Things Must End

Today is our last day at the borrowed/free of charge beach house. I may tear up. Going back to reality is tough. No one should do it alone.

I fall asleep to the sound of the ocean waves breaking on the shore and wake to the sun streaming though the window. I swallow a few cups of coffee, go for a jog along the beach, and sit along the shore all day. When the little kids get bored, we hop on a golf cart and drive them to the pool. We eat dinner on the patio while watching the ocean do it's thing and the phone rarely rings.

All is well.

My girlfriend is returning from Hawaii and settling back at the beach house she calls home, and we, are leaving here and settling back at, well, our wonderful home. I don't feel sorry for her.

I miss my bed, but that's about it.

My Daughter the Missionary

My girl cannot stop talking about her trip to the Domican Republic and how much fun she had. She cannot stop talking about how God showed up and did His thing. She cannot stop telling me about the friends that she bonded with and grew closer to. She keeps telling me that she wants to go back very soon.

Check out her photos here.

Let's Go for a Run?

We are staying at my girlfriend's house near the beach. Her 19 year old daughter asked if I wanted to go for a run with her. Of course I said yes. Since I run 5 days a week, I knew that I could kick some 19 year old girl butt on the running trail, that was, until I saw the trail on which she was taking me.

"It's only six miles" she said on the short drive. "There are a lot of hills too. Are you okay with hills?" I laughed at her question. "Of course I can do hills Hailey. Really?"

What Hailey failed to tell me is that the hills never end. What Hailey failed to tell me is that there are weird bugs, Mountain lions within miles, deer, dust, and masses of sweat. What Hailey failed to tell me is that the 6 miles will feel like 15. What Hailey failed to tell me is that she is like a svelte Gazelle. What Hailey failed to tell me is that we should bring water. What Hailey failed to tell me is that I would end up with dirt lodged in my armpit wrinkles. What Hailey failed to tell me is that I am too old to run her trail.

I snapped this photo in between wheezing, and trying not to fall over. I deserve an award.

Hailey hasn't asked me to go running with her again. She suggested a session of Hot Yoga instead, where there are no weird bugs, hills, or dust.

I'll bring my water.

How was your Vacation? Delicious!

My girlfriend has graciously given us her house for ten days. Her house just happens to be minutes from the beach and pool. She's nice like that.

After a long pool and beach morning I just served the following lunch to six boys:
3-BBQ chicken sandwiches
1-16 oz bag of potato chips
4-chicken and cheese quesadillas
1-cheese quesadilla
1-gallon of vanilla ice cream complete with Magic Shell and whipped cream
6-bottles of water
napkins were optional.

I'm exhausted already.

Monday Thoughts

"I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."


Ephesians 3:17-19