Wisdom Building

It happens more than I'd like to admit.  Everything will be going along just fine.  And then it hits.  It's usually something relatively inconsequential like choosing the wrong color socks.  This morning, it was about the clean pants she put in with the dirty laundry.  She'd only worn them for about an hour, and I was trying to make a point.  But Monday morning before school is not the time for point-making.  So in the midst of trying to make a point, we lost the peace of the pre-leaving-for-school hour.  And I lost an opportunity to fortify the home that I am so diligently working to build.

EVERY WISE woman builds her house, but the foolish one tears it down with her own hands.

Proverbs 14:1 (Amplified Bible)

Funny thing about wisdom is that it's not really wisdom if it's not used.  I can know what I need to do, but if I don't do it, I am unwise.  Like the little nudge inside that I ignored.  The one that reminded me of what's really important this morning.

That truth sobers me in light of the idea of building my house.

If I want my house to be strong, I will build it with wisdom.  Not brute strength.  But God-strength.  The kind of strength that is founded on the fear of the LORD.

"The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding." (Proverbs 9:10)

I can know how to serve my husband and love my children and nurture their souls, but if I don't do it, I am just like the foolish woman who tears down her home with her very own hands.

And wisdom is kind of tricky.  I mean, I do need to teach my daughter to put only what is dirty into the dirty laundry pile.  But, in all honesty, we've never even discussed that.  So why would I choose Monday morning before school to introduce it?  Wisdom knows the truth and seeks the right time to make it known.

Not just with my children, but my relationship with my husband desperately needs this kind of wisdom too.  The kind that builds instead of tearing down.  Not just with words, but with appropriate silence.  With prayer.  This kind of wisdom knows that the wise woman who builds her house has tremendous power to influence her home.  The wise woman realizes that she sets the climate for her home, whether she likes it or not.  And not only that, but she proactively sets the climate for warmth.  By fearing the LORD above all else.  By asking for wisdom from her very generous God.

So today I am asking Him for wisdom.  The kind of wisdom that only He can give.  The kind of wisdom that will build my home.

So -- I have a question for you --- what does wisdom look like in your home?  Leave a comment...I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

***It's another week of Vigilant Wives Club. Here's what's going on if you'd like to keep up.  If you'd like to link up, please do so by adding your permalink to the linky tools thing here at the bottom of this post.  Or feel free to just paste your link in the comments section.

Getting To The Point

Before I had kids, I thought I wanted boys. I was convinced that my husband and I should have 5 kids, all boys, who would run around crazy with life and bring me along for the ride.

But God knew better.  As it turns out, God knows best.  And He gave me two girls instead.  So rather than five boys bringing me along for the ride, I found myself with the calling of pointing my girls to the ride itself.  The only true ride with the only true thrill.

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." ~Proverbs 19:21

Right now, I hear my girls upstairs with their Littlest Pet Shop friends and a whole band of princesses.  Today they will travel to Brazil.  Or Japan.  It's not yet been decided.  And as I listen to their giggles and their flying Little People airplanes, I am reminded of the fine line that separates their imaginations from life itself.  I am reminded that imagination fuels life.  But, more importantly, it is life that fuels imagination.  And, consequently, I am reminded of my job as the mother of girls -- point them to the very Creator of Life.  Show them how to live.  Real life.

It's not an easy task, this raising girls thing.  This raising kids thing, actually.  I regularly find myself in an overwhelmed state.  Overwhelmed with the drama of a friend's hurtful words at lunchtime.  Or a sister's mean look.  Overwhelmed by the silliness that makes dinnertime last much longer than it should.  Overwhelmed by the growing pains of a tender heart that doesn't understand how a friend's parents could get divorced and send her to another school.

And it's not for the faint of heart.  It's what sends me to my knees wondering what the Lord was thinking when He thought that I, of all people could handle this task.

That's when He lovingly picks me back up and reminds me that He, the Sovereign God of all that is, knows best. 

"You are good, and what you do is good; teach me your decrees."  ~Psalm 119:68

He points me back to His truth.  So that I can point them.

That's what being the mother of daughters means to me.  Trying to figure out how to do just that.  Point them to Life Himself.  And enjoying the ride.  It's why I'm so excited about this brand new blog I've started following called modsquadblog.  It's dedicated to mothers of daughters.  (Because mothers. of. daughters. make a m.o.d. squad.  Get it?)  And today, I'm linking up with them in answer to the question  "What does being a modsquad mom mean to you? 

Mommawhat???

Since the day I became a mom, my understanding of my very person has been called into question more times than I can count.  And every time I think I have it figured out, the season changes, and I am forced to ask the same question all over again.  Who am I as a mom?

Like the season (which lasted more than three years) that my oldest decided she would only wear dresses or skirts.  She was not yet two.  Being the ever-comfortable, jean-loving woman that I am, my understanding of myself as a mom was somehow called into question.  Do I force her to wear the adorable BabyGap jeans that make her diaper butt look so stinkin' cute, or do I save my battles for something more important?

She did not wear pants for three years.

And here I am at the brink of summer vacation with my five- and fifteen eight-year-old daughters, facing the same question yet again.  Who am I as a mom?

So I've been thinking a lot lately about the kind of mom my children need.  For a very, very long time as a mother, I didn't realize the truth that God chose me for my very children.  Often wracked with guilt, I struggle with how do this thing called motherhood.  Because I'm not qualified.  Because I only rarely have any kind of a clue as to what I'm doing.  And because I am so much better at dealing with the urgent in the moment than I am with setting my mind on what it truly important.  Like staying inside with the washing machine all day while they are outside dirtying it up.

I would love to be the mom whose home it is that all the kids flock to at summer break.  The fun mom who is always thinking up creative ways to experience and learn life.  I would love for my kids to remember their childhood as one in which I was at the center of all the fun memories.  What a fun mom I would be.

But the truth is that while it is important to help create fun memories for my children, who I am as a mom is not to be defined by that alone.  I mean, I'm fun.  But in a different way than that ideal mom is in my head.  The truth is that God knew exactly what kind of mom these two little girls need.  And as it turns out, I match the description perfectly.

That's why I am so loving this blog that is dedicated to helping moms like me be better at our specific callings as moms.  A few weeks ago, several other women and I drafted personal mission statements in order to help us be more purposeful and intentional in our roles as moms.  My life mission statement, I believe, is to live so securely in the love of Jesus Christ and love Him so wholly that everything I do points to Him.  It follows, then, that my mission as a mom is to point my kids to Jesus by how I (1) follow Him and seek Him; (2) love them; and (3) train them in His ways.  In other words, if what I do as a mom does not somehow ultimately point my children to Almighty God Himself, then I am not fulfilling my purpose.  No matter how fun I am.

Remembering this focus helped me so much yesterday.  I was watching my eight-year-old bury my five-year-old in heaps of freshly cut grass.  (Can you say "itchy"?)  And as I sat on the porch, I called out the ever-so-familiar guilty feelings for the lies that they were.  Instead of beating myself up for not being out there with them, I decided to let them enjoy their friendship with each other.  The one that I prayed would develop even before my second one was born.  And I realized that sometimes getting the laundry clean is just as important as letting them dirty it up on their own.

Because I can point them to Jesus as I do their laundry just as I can point them to Jesus while I play tag with them.  I can point them to Jesus in my prayers for their friendship with each other and with others.  I can point them to Jesus. 

And I will filter our summer plans through this very purpose.

This week's task is to come up with some kind of a summer schedule.  One that involves making fun memories and finding Jesus together.  It won't be rigid.  Because that just wouldn't be summer here at our home.  Rigid does not equal our family.  It will, however, be well thought-out.  Because the last thing I want is to waste three months worth of carefree summer days with my kids while they are kids.

How about you? How will your plans for this summer serve your specific purpose as a mom to your children?  Maybe your purpose is to teach your children true rest (in Love Himself).  Or maybe it's something different.  I would love to hear some ideas...

Her Eyes

"Where did she get her beautiful blue eyes?"

People ask this about my daughters all of the time. I usually look at them (with MY OWN blue eyes) and say, "My mother-in-law has beautiful blue eyes too." Then I smile and walk away. Sometimes laughing at myself. Sometimes laughing at the stupidity of the question. But always laughing. I have to admit it would be really fun to mess with someone the next time I hear that. Like, "Oh my gosh!!! How the HECK did that happen?!?" I mean, ask a stupid question...get a stupid answer.

Because eye-color is something you can't get on your own. It's inherited. And, even though I don't understand genetics at all, I know that two brown-eyed parents don't (usually) bear a blue-eyed child.

I didn't get the color of my eyes from my mom. She's got brown ones. But there are other things about her eyes that she gave to me.

Like her eye for finding a way to help others in times of need. While I was growing up, my mom was always making food for people who were in some kind of need. Whether it was having a new baby or a death in the family or someone recovering from surgery. She has always had a knack for finding a way to help. And she passed that on to me.

And, although I certainly did not inherit physical eye-characteristics from my mother-in-law, there are things in her eyes that I long to acquire.

Like the way she sees life. Differently. As if looking through the eyes of a child, she is always able to make up a fun new game to play. Or make special crafts out of recycled trash.

That's why moms matter. Because not only do they (sometimes) give us our eye-color, they give us the tools we need in order to look through those eyes and see what we need to see. Life as they see it. By using their eyes, they teach us to use them too.

And now it's my turn. To teach my two blue-eyed wonders how to look through the blue and see life.

Lord, help me to teach them to see as You see. Give me eyes to see what You do and the wisdom to show it to them.

Join me today in linking up with my awesome friend, Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama.  She always has such beautiful thoughts on life and motherhood.  She's asking the question "Why do moms matter?"  And, well, you guessed it.  I think one of the reasons moms matter is that they teach us how to see.

The Task at Hand

Why it's so hard for me to say yes to my kids when they invite me to play I will never understand.  I mean, it's not like I enjoy emptying the dishwasher or cleaning the toilet.  But the urgency of the always-available tasks somehow offers an excuse to foster my complacency and avoid the nuisance of having to run until my sides hurt or the burden of watching Pocahontas for the three hundred forty-ninth time.

And so, when one of them asks, "Mommy, do you wanna' play with me?" I say "No" more often than I'd like to admit.  And I give in to the selfish complacency that justifies itself.  Pretending to be an important task to be done.  As if completing household chores holds the same importance as bestowing value and worth to my child.  The kind that lets her know that she herself is more important than any task that lay before me. 

It's an age-old problem, really.  The problem of task-orientation that creates a distorted view of life and living.  It's the same problem that turned relationship with Love Himself into ritual and religion.  The one that made shoulds and should-nots out of covenant-living with the very Creator of Life.

I have found that when I really focus on the true task at hand as lover of God Himself, it's more about who I am than it is about what I do.  More about who He is making me than what I am doing or not doing for Him.  The same truth applies in reading my Bible, in mothering my children, serving my husband, sweeping my floor.  And it involves denying myself and my own plan.  It involves being who He has created me to be -- follower of Jesus, wife, mother, keeper of my house.

So last night I gave up the comfort of getting things done.  And I joined their lung-burning, oxygen-sucking game of freeze-tag.  It was about being the mom who shows them, by the way I live, who Jesus really is.  By loving them for real.  And enjoying them for real.

And I think I got more done last night than I did all last week.

Peeling

So, last night was kind of a rough one for me.  At around 2am, my coughing eight-year-old called for me. Loudly.  So I jumped out of bed and ran to her room, where she let me know that she felt like she was going to throw up if she coughed even one more time.  Thankfully, that did not happen.  But I did hang around for a while before returning to my own bed for another four and a half two and a half hours until my toothless wonder of a five-year-old came in for some help opening up the toothfairy pillow to see what she had gotten for her second lost tooth.  After helping her find the money her and sending her back to bed, I had exactly thirty minutes to make up for much of the night's sleep that I had missed.  And this morning is not much better.  Having made a vow to God that I would get up early to spend time with Him and give Him my day before the rest of my family awakes, my faith was challenged this morning.  And I did it.  And. I. am. tired.

Which makes it more difficult to seize the day and make the most of what I'm doing whenever I am doing it.

Because when my body's all rested up, and I'm all rearing to go after a good night's sleep, it is so much easier to live.  I mean live like Jesus designed me to live.  With gusto.  With purpose.  With joy.  With His strength.  For His glory.  Making the most of every opportunity (Eph. 5:15-16).  But days like these challenge my inner fibers in a way that makes me realize the truth of who I really am.  And the things I truly rely on to give me the gusto, the purpose, the joy.

Because the true meat of who I am shines through on days like this.  Unfortunately, it takes some tough peeling away of the stuff I think might give me that real life in order for me to see that only God Almighty, the very Author of Life itself, can provide life as it was truly meant to be.  And that just stinks.  Well, today it does.  Because the peeling is hard.  And I am tired.  (See paragraph #1.) 

But the truth underneath -- the truth of who I am in Jesus Christ ALONE -- is beautiful.  And that is where I need to live.  In that truth.  Whether my body is tired and my kid is sick or I get 12 hours of sleep and I'm feeling great.

The truth is that I am who God says I am. 

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.

For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.

In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. 

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory."

Ephesians 1:3-8,11-12

The truth is that I was chosen to bring God glory.  To show off Who He is.  "For the praise of His glory."  Every day.  By how I live.  Every. Day.  Be it after a good night's sleep or not.  And the truth is that the only way I can do that is by letting Him do it.  By relying only on Him as my real Source of any of that true kind of life.  The only way I can show off God's glory is by letting Him peel away and reveal all of the non-truth things that won't get me there, even when I think they might.

So when I wake up in the morning after a not-so-good night's sleep, I still have joy.  I still have strength.  I can still make the most of every opportunity.  I might have red eyes and stay in my pj's all day, but I can still live with that kind of life if I do it His way.

Now, to just let the rest of my day filter that truth.  Then maybe I can get a nap. ;)

And while I'm napping, maybe you could let me know how you make the most of your opportunities as a mom.  Just one way that, today, you can show off Who God really is to your children by living like He wants you to...

Mission Statement Mania

Since I've become more regular in my blogginess, I find myself experiencing life in a different light.  Like when I first joined up on facebook, and found myself consciously updating my status in my mind, if not on my profile.  Constantly trying to whit-fully sum up in ten words or less what it is that I am doing.  The goal: make myself *laugh*out*loud*.  Well, now that I've learned to tame the addiction fun that is facebook, I am happy to say that I no longer live my life in third-person narrative.  I do, however, find myself going through my day-to-day with different eyes since becoming a blogger.  In perpetual search of my next topic.  Constantly seeking out spiritual parallels for things like pumping gas or picking out deodorant.  (Well, okay, I'm not really THAT bad, but I think you get the picture.)  The goal: furthering my writing skills God's kingdom.

It's hard for me to find the balance.  Hard to even know if that is what should be found.  How can I further God's kingdom while, at the same time, enhancing my writing skills?  And, even more importantly, what is my motive?  I mean, truly, what's my goal?  Not only as a writer, but even more so, as a mom.  As a wife.  As a friend.

I've been thinking a lot about goals and purpose lately.  It started about a year ago with the 2x4 God-smack and the Beth Moore study on Gethsemane from Jesus the One and Only.  And it's been greatly advanced by Kat at http://www.inspiredtoaction.com/.  God is using this woman to inspire me.  See, I've been wanting to be more intentional as a mom.  As a woman, really.  But how to do it.  Well, that's what this blog is about.  Specifically, this week we are working on defining our own mission statements.  And I am very, very excited about it.

Because this week, as I've prayed (a lot!!) about and pondered what my mission statement might be, I've found myself really struggling.  Feeling overwhelmed at times with all of the roles I play in life.  Examining everything I am involved in and the motives behind it.  Questionning my goals.  And finding them sorely lacking in some areas.  The truth is, I believe that God created me to bring glory to Him.  Period. 

"We were also chosen to belong to him. God decided to choose us long ago in keeping with his plan. He works out everything to fit his plan and purpose. . . We were chosen to bring praise to his glory."

Ephesians 1:11-12(NIRV)

The question of a mission statement, though, is, more specifically, how does He want to use me to that end?  How can I "bring praise to His glory?"  As a wife.  As a mom.  As a friend.  As a writer.  And I'm excited about the filter that will be my mission statement.

I'm seriously thinking you should check out Kat's blog.  It's good stuff.  Super good.

Have a great weekend!

p.s. I would love to hear your thoughts about balance in life as a woman with many plates to spin...

Powered by the Caller

"Nathan reported to David all the words of this entire revelation." 2 Samuel 7:17

Without the surrounding context, it seems a verse like this would not naturally be one to extrapolate on. But as I read today's devotional text in 2 Samuel, I found an amazing amount of encouragement in these eleven words.

See, God had just given Nathan the prophet a eleven verses worth of detailed revelation regarding the building of a house for His Name and the building of David's house and line that would eventually be fulfilled in Jesus. And, we're talking some pretty intense stuff. So when I read that "Nathan reported to David all the words of this entire revelation," I thought "how the heck did he remember all of these words?!?" And it was even in the middle of the night!

Then God reminded me that Nathan was His prophet. He was, in fact, called to be a prophet by God Himself. Appointed to the very task. And when God appointed him, He also must have given him everything he needed to do his job correctly.

Well, I don't know about you, but I personally find this piece of truth incredibly encouraging! Because if I'm called and appointed by God to be the mom to the two little girls with whom He has entrusted me, He's going to equip me just like He did Nathan the prophet. With everything I need to do my job correctly. As He intended me to!

Okay, I don't know if Nathan used rote memory or if he took notes while He was listening to the word of the Lord. For all we know, he may have used some pnemonic device. But it truly doesn't matter HOW he did it. The fact remains that he was able to recall "all the words of this entire revelation." And that was his job. Either way, he had the tools necessary to get the job done. And, I'm guessing that he had to work the tools to some extent. Just like this mommy thing requires some (okay, lots of) pretty intense work. But when the work is powered by the Giver of the job, it's possible to do it right!

And, seriously, the fact that it's possible amazes me! So let yourself be encouraged too.

Today, my goal is to look for ways that God has empowered me to do my job as mom well. I hope I find lots.

The LIFE That is Motherhood

I'm amazed at the amount of enjoyment I have experienced as a mom recently. I mean, I've held the title for just about eight years, and I've never found myself able to rest in the role like I have in the past few months. If I had to nail down a reason, I think I'd have to say it's the narrowing of focus, the honing of my purpose as a mom, the realizing that being a mom is not just a job. It's my life.

Okay, I read that, and I think it sounds crazy. Of course it's my life! I'm a mom! But, somehow, I've had this mindset since my initiation days into motherhood that this is more like my job, where I put in for vacation time and solicit the elusive "smoke break". And this mindset has convinced me that motherhood is somehow more hard work than job. So I've approached it more as a job than as my life. The one I'm supposed to LIVE, not just WORK through. And, as a result, I believe I've missed something of the true and deep joy that is motherhood. It's almost like I've been spending all these years trying to convince myself and everyone else that I work so hard and so constantly that I need to take every possible opportunity to be away from this work so I can breathe. And, while that is true to the extent that every mom absolutely needs regular breaks, I think I've taken it to some sort of extreme. And somehow I convinced myself that my job as a mom is a sort of waiting game -- I wait until my kids start school full time, and THEN I can fulfill my true calling. The one God has set aside for me. You know, the amazingly unique career that only I can fulfill.

Only, now that I'm taking the time to focus on what motherhood really is, I'm realizing that this is my calling. My true calling. The one God has set aside for only me. Motherhood is not just some incredibly difficult job, which certainly does lack appreciation at times. It is a lifetstyle full of surprises and challenges and absolute fun and enjoyment!

I hope this makes sense. It's not that I've not enjoyed my kids before now. It's just that, as I find and refine my mission as a mom, I'm finding myself enjoying my kids like never before. And my job is more fun too. :)

Wholehearted Singing

Colossians 3:23-24 "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving."

I recently read the story of Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5. A story I've read many times before. But this time, it struck a chord. Unsure of the reason, I read the story again. Then I read the devotion that some pastors at my church had written on it. And I recognized the chord.

It's the main chord in the song I've been learning this month. The song of wholeheartedness. I've been realizing lately that in several areas of my life I've been doing enough to just get by.

Motherhood is at the very top of that list. I've been seeing a pattern in the way that I mother my two daughters. The pattern is one of almost survival mode. It entails just going through the motions. No intentionality involved. It involves doing the minimum to get through each day. Looking to the end of the day when my husband gets home so I can concentrate on my own life and getting the things done that I "need" to complete. The problem is, if I don't change this course I'm on, I'm going to find myself walking out of a college dorm room wondering what the heck happened to my little girls. And they'll be waving goodbye to me with the minimal amount of real life values and childhood family memories.

I admit this is extreme. I mean, my children are happy and very well-adjusted little girls. But the truth is, if I don't wake up now and start being intentional with the time I have with them, in each and every today, I'm going to end up missing it all! And I don't want to miss it. I want to be the mother they need. The reason God gave them to me instead of someone else. I want to train them to love and follow Jesus wholly. I want to love them like they need to be loved. Like God has purposed me to love them. I want to enjoy this calling of motherhood. Wholeheartedly.

And that's where Ananias and Sapphira fell short. They were pretending. Like I've been pretending. They were trying to fool Almighty God. Trying to appear to be doing something they weren't actually doing. Like I've been trying to appear to be doing the very best job I can at being a mom. Only, the truth is, I haven't been. I've been focused on the wrong stuff -- MY stuff. Everything I want to get done in any given day. Instead of focusing on the job that God has given me to do. The true nurture of my children, whether that be spiritual, physical, mental or emotional. The focus of doing this job called motherhood to the best of my ability. And finishing the song that started with the chord of wholeheartedness.

Odd Day Out

Yesterday was odd.

I was the first one up in the morning. Odd. I made homemade waffles for breakfast. Odd for a Sunday morning before church. All this AND I got dressed up because I wanted to. I usually wear my nice jeans and a sweater. Dressier than normal mom-days, but not "dressed up" by any stretch of the imagination. Well, yesterday I felt like wearing a skirt, nylons (?!?!) and my nice, blue, "dressy" shirt. Very, very strange.

Driving home from church, I wondered about this anomaly, thinking I could chalk it up to the fact that I'd been quarantined with the swine flu for the past 10 days or so, resulting in endless pajama days followed by just as many days in sweats and slippers. The strange enjoyment of wearing the nylons and skirt, I reasoned, could be explained by my need to feel not just human, but pretty, again.

But I hadn't really thought through the oddity of being the first one out of bed as well as wanting to make breakfast for my kids instead of just preparing the everyday cold cereal, with an occasional piece of toast. I hadn't thought it through, that is, until my seven-year-old asked me before bed last night if I could get up early again. She reminded me that, back at the end of summer vacation, I had made that a goal for this school year. A goal, I think it goes without saying, that I have failed to meet thus far. Her question struck me in a (surprise!) strange kind of way. Why would she care if I get up early or not?

At this point in the discussion, I feel the need to explain our morning ritual. My husband is normally the first to awaken, followed by the aforementioned seven-year-old. The two of them read the Bible and then eat breakfast together before waking me up so we can pray before my husband sets off for work. I then lay in bed with my daughter, after she waves goodbye to Daddy, mustering all of my energy in order to pry my eyes open. When I finally get out of bed, due to my daughter's patient prodding, we do all of the normal preparations for the day (i.e. get dressed, etc.). I am not what you would call a "morning person".

So, I've been thinking about it today. And I remembered a book by Jill Savage that I started reading this past summer. My Heart's at Home: Becoming the Intentional Mom Your Family Needs. That book is actually the reason for the goal I had made. I think I'm gonna' read it again. Because I'm starting to believe, with all of my heart actually, that my family does need me to be more intentional with my time. Not that they have to have a homemade breakfast everyday. Not even that they need me to be the first out of bed everyday. But, I think the day starts better when I'm on my game before they are. And, consequently, so does theirs. And I think I'm more focused on my purpose, as a mom, as a child of God, as a woman, when I've been awake for more than, say, one minute.

So -- here goes. A goal re-set. My goal is to be up and out of bed, ready for the day, before my husband leaves for work. I will do this for the remainder of this week. And I'll evaluate on Friday how it's gone.

Maybe soon, it'll be not so strange.