On a Lighter Note

I took a few snapshots of some of the photos from my Zeb scrapbook., and even with as embarrassing as many of them are I am going to give you a peek into my life in the EIGHTIES! For those of you from that generation I am sure you have similar photos, for everyone else just know that these styles were normal at one time.
Anyway,

Here we are in ’87. I love this photo. I have always said that we were the originally Little Miss Sunshine, although far less dysfunctional. How about that retro “Jesus Is Coming” license plate? I have written a whole post about the old VW, it was the best.
And here I am sporting the stirrup pants. Tell me you had some.
These frilly dresses were so popular at our church, I think you had to order them from a special catalogue or something. Mine was probably a hand-me-down (my mom can probably clarify this).
This was that trip to Indianapolis that I talked about. On the left we have big bro with the tight rolled jeans, followed by several pairs of flourecent shoe laces, and who knows what I am wearing.
I showed one of these dandelion pictures earlier this week. I just love these photos.
I still love dandelions despite their reputation and here I am holding them again in another photo with Zeb and my older brother.



What was your craziest outfit/accessory from the 80’s?
By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 17, 2011|Uncategorized|3 Comments

The Process of Grief

Yesterday I mentioned that there were different stages to grieving and processing, and I can really only share what that has looked like for me and my specific situation. Of course it was difficult for a time. I missed my brother and I cried plenty which was always welcomed with love and compassion in our family. I remember coming unglued when I had a pet cat pass away not long after my little brother died. I had much stronger outward emotions about the cat, which looking back I think was more like the straw that broke the camels back. I had had enough and that was a way for me to vent all of the grief, anger, and questioning that I had been dealing with that year.

My adolescent, teenage, and early adult years were very typical. I will say though that becoming a mom has brought a whole new light to this story and I have had to process it all over again from the perspective of a mother. My little brother was 3 when he was diagnosed and now that I have a 3 year old boy (whose name also happens to begin with Z) I just can’t even imagine what it would be like to go through what my parents did. I have also been able to talk with my mom as a friend and hear the story in more detail, including some of the medical aspects that I would have never been able to comprehend as a young girl. I can see how God’s hand was on my parents in that season and how he is the strength that has carried them through and allowed their story to be a testimony. It is nothing short of a miracle really. Then there are the what if’s. I believe that God has a purpose for everything and you can’t live in the past, but I would be lying if I said I never ever wondered what it would be like if things turned out differently. J and I have a friend who is like a brother to us and he is the same age that Zeb would be. They are not always this affectionate ha ha. This was during a very special time of prayer.I have mentioned him on this blog 1, 2, 3, at least 4 times. It blesses my heart to see the relationship between him and his older sister. I am guessing Zeb would probably be artistic and musical like the rest of my family and I am sure he would jamming with the guys if he were here, but let’s be honest whatever he is rocking out to in heaven is way better than what we’ve got going on. As far as what the future holds, I look forward to sharing Zeb’s legacy with my children someday when they are older. I have a memorial scrapbook with photos of my brother. There are also some little wooden trucks Zeb had painted that are displayed in Z’s room. Lastly, the kids have a copy of The Runaway Bunny, which is so special because not only did I read it to Zeb in his last days with us, but it was written in 1942 which was right around when our house was built, and when I bought this book at Kohl’s the net sales went to benefit the Children’s Miracle Network which is a foundation that had a part in Zeb’s life. I bought this book before the kids were born and I don’t think I have even read it to them yet. Maybe tonight that will change.

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 16, 2011|Uncategorized|1 Comment

Zeb’s Story Continued

When we returned it was time to get back to business in fighting this cancer thing head on. We eventually were spending so much time at the hospital someone set us up in an apartment close to the hospital as Zeb received round the clock treatment. Once again us three older kids stayed with family friends in order to keep up at school. Holidays, birthdays, and family time were all spent at the hospital.
It was on Easter of 1991 that Zeb was admitted to the ICU. I remember being in the car with my dad and two older brothers who were 13 and 11 years old at the time and I was almost 9. My dad turned around and asked us if we understood what was happening to Zeb and in gentle fatherly words made sure that we knew the severity of the situation and that we may have to say our goodbyes. We knew. This was the hardest part for me. Zeb was the most fun loving energetic boy you would ever meet and it pained me to see my brother, my best bud, laying lifeless on his back in that cold sterile room. The Zeb I remember was often in overalls, he had a broad smile with big dimples, and was barefooted any chance he got. But in the ICU he became swollen and they had to lay extra large tshirts over his body instead of dress him because of all the tubes that he was hooked up to. We still stuck together through it all. I remember reading to him The Runaway Bunny and stroking his forehead, because even though he couldn’t respond much, he seemed to appreciate the tender touch. In April of 1991 I was called out of my second grade class to the school office. When I arrived and saw my parents and brothers with red eyes full of tears I pretty much knew what was going on. My dad told us that Zeb had passed away the night before. I remember him telling us that our ultimate goal was to get to heaven to see Jesus, but that now we have even more to look forward to. Shortly after that we moved onto a large auditorium where they made the announcement to the entire student body of our tight knit private school. Of course people pulled together to support our family, and we felt love coming from every direction. Some ladies bought me a beautiful new dress to wear to the funeral. It’s hard to believe that was 20 years ago. There has been a lot of grieving and different stages of processing, but I feel like as a family we’ve grown closer to each other and closer to God. I will never know why my little brother had to leave us at such a young age, what I do know is that we will not take for granted having such a sweet loving boy as a part of our family. We will never forget the seven precious years that we had with him here on this earth and lastly we rejoice in knowing we will see him again.

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 15, 2011|Uncategorized|4 Comments

Zeb’s Story

I didn’t want to go to kindergarten, but that is what five year olds do, so I was forced into the brightly colored, welcoming room of the small private Christian school. I knew most of my classmates because this school was also where I went to church. My older brothers went there too, but not my little brother because he was only three. I never went to preschool so that first week of kindergarten was definitely the biggest thing going on in my little world. That was until the next week.

My little brother Zeb had bug bites, which is no big deal for an active toddler living out in the country. The problem was that they didn’t go away, so my mom decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it checked by a doctor. They did some blood work and on September 9, 1987 Zeb was diagnosed with Leukemia. I didn’t move onto first grade the next year and now I can understand why, but being held back was something that I would feel ashamed of throughout a good part of my childhood. The next 2 ½ years of my life were spent staying with friends, family, and various church members off and on because my parents were at the hospital so often throughout Zeb’s chemotherapy. I hated staying with other people, and I hated having blood drawn. The nurses at the hospital tried holding me, but I distinctly remember kicking screaming and eventually protesting to the point that they had to strap me down. But despite how I make it sound things weren’t so bad. I liked the hospital. We had lots of friends there. The Doctors and nurses were so nice and one of them loved to challenge me at Tetris on the rec room computer. To this day I can still take anyone at Tetris, it’s the only video game I am good at. We would also have therapy with a counselor at the hospital, but I didn’t know that’s what it was until later. I called her Linda the play lady and I just had a great time coloring and writing and spending time with my brothers.

Things were progressing decently until Zeb relapsed in October of 1990. We took one last vacation as a family to Indianapolis. We knew with Zeb preparing to have a bone marrow transplant we wouldn’t be able to do any traveling anytime soon. He also wouldn’t be able swim once he had a central line put in again. We absorbed every second of every moment together as a family and just enjoyed life, because we knew and still realize that life is precious.
To be continued…

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 14, 2011|Uncategorized|2 Comments

Talking About Death

If you know me you may know that I have my own opinions about birth. I get frustrated when our culture views it as some freaky, horrible, disgusting thing when it is actually very beautiful. I attribute my openness in part to be raised by a mother that has always had a very open and optimistic dialogue about childbirth. What may come as even more of a surprise is my mother’s openness to talking about death. I know it isn’t an easy topic to just toss around over dinner, and unlike birth it is a time of mourning. I do believe though that having healthy relationship with the reality of our immortality is a positive attribute. This thought occurred to me on memorial day when a couple different conversations transpired. The first was about birth order. I explained how I was the middle child for half of my upbringing, but I’ve been the youngest since my little brother passed away when I was nine. Later that night I was discussing with another friend about how we lost our insurance, and how this was a concern for me coming from a family with a brother that died of Leukemia. There it was again, I was just talking about my life and it naturally included a death within my family. This doesn’t always come up, but to not be able to talk about it would be disheartening. When I reflected on these conversations later I was grateful to have friends who could listen and felt comfortable with the topic. Sometimes it may just be a lightweight tidbit of information, other times I may want to go deeper with my feelings about loosing a loved one, but either way I know that I can talk about it with them. That is why I decide this week I want to share, for the first time, my story about loosing a brother to a terminal illness. I know there will be some tears, but I’m sure we’ve all been effected by death in someway and I hope that this topic can maybe act as a platform for honoring and remembering those that have gone before us.

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 13, 2011|Uncategorized|1 Comment

How We Got Here

This week I am sharing about my life as a pastor’s wife and I thought it would be a good opportunity to document how J and I got here in the first place. Let me just start by saying I am horrible with dates. I do know that I met J when I was 14. My family had just moved to a small town south of Dallas and my parents chose to go to a small Assembly of God church that I didn’t particular care for, but God knew what he was doing. At that time J (who is 6 years old than me) was attending Southwestern Assembly of God University and was a part of a singing group that just so happened to perform at the church we were attending.

Shortly after that the worship leader of our church resigned and the pastor called up the group to see if anyone would be interested in filling this vacant ministry role. J answered the call and started leading worship in 1996.
The short story is that we got married 4 years later, but you can read the longer story in my series The Messy Mom’s Love Story. From there we felt led to move on to another church where J was plugged in pretty quickly as a part of the worship team. Not too long after that our dear friend who was leading worship moved out to Florida and J stepped in as the music pastor.
In 2005 J was offered a full time position at the church. It would mean forfiting his place on the corporate ladder. I talked about this heavy decision and what it meant for us in a previous blog post.
Last year made 10 years of being at our church and 5 years of J being on staff.

This is a photo from the luncheon they had to celebrate this milestone. This journey of being a pastors wife hasn’t always been an easy one, but I wouldn’t change it. J has talent in so many areas and could have done almost anything with his life, but his heart for worship and his destiny to lead people into deeper places cannot be denied. In the past 10 years J, the guitar, and I have gone overseas,

across the border,

and to areas demolished by a tragic natural disaster.

The Lord has blessed us with the priveledge of touching numerous lives by spreading the Love of Jesus with this gift. And although we can’t travel as much as we used to now that we have children I know that God is still moving in countless ways and I am honored to be one of his vessels.

Photo captions in order from top to bottom:

J is on the far right of this photo. This was the equivalent of a Pentecostal boy band I think it was actually called Zion’s cry, but I never did see them perform.

This is an old photo of J in the old sanctuary.

J and I when the church honored him for all his years of service. I know it’s blurry, but it’s special

The worship team on our first trip to England. J is in the middle, that’s one of my friends on the far right before she was married to who her husband who is on the drums, and on the far right (you can barely see him) is my friend Amy’s husband.

J in on a mission trip to an orphanage in Accapulco.

J participating in a worship walk through the streets of New Orleans after all of the destruction from Katrina.

J setting up the instruments for the kids for our family music night last year. And yes Z is pantsless, it seems like someone always is for family night.
By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 10, 2011|Uncategorized|3 Comments

Completion

Wednesday’s are a busy day at the church. J is usually at work for at least 12 hours, which is another reason for the Mon/Tues off deal. Last night began with a fundraiser for the Spanish congregation that meets at our church. They served a nice hot meal of authentic homemade mexican food and all of the proceeds are going toward a VBS that they are going to hold in Mexico this summer.
The meal was immediately followed by a Graduation celebration for some of the girls that were a part of the Revive conference last fall. My mom was in town and it was her idea to make a fruit pizza, and my idea to decorate it with 2011 .

I assume it was good because it was gone before I even had a chance to try it and there were several recipe inquiries. For the record it’s basically a giant sugar cookie covered with cool whip/cream cheese mixture, and topped with fruit.
Afterward we headed upstairs for the “ribbon cutting” of the apartment over the coffee shop. This has been J’s latest building project and he amazed me with his skills yet again.

J and I with two of our closest friends who came all the way across the country to be a part of this vision.

Pastor D says it looks like it popped right out of Dwell magazine. It does look nice and we had a wonderful time of prayer and celebration over the completion of a building that we as a church have been working on for years!

I am excited to see what else God has in store as a result of all of this labor, and I am really looking forward to lots of rest and family time now that J’s work on the apartment is finished.
By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 9, 2011|Uncategorized|2 Comments

Top Ten Things You May Not Know About Pastors

There are a lot of misconceptions and unknowns about the occupation of pastoral ministry. There is also an an extremely broad and diverse group of people that fall under this category whether it be legally or spiritually. So although this list may be obvious for some I thought it might be enlightening for others that may not know exactly how the whole church career thing might be different than other jobs.
  1. Housing Allowance- Back in the day pastors got parsonages. These days we get our own house, but a portion of each paycheck is considered housing which is part of your salary, but is not a part of your gross income and is not legally taxable. This amount has to coincide with how much you actually spend on your house (apartment or furnishings). We do a lot of renovations on our house each year and so we keep record of that so we know how much to allot for our housing allowance.
  1. Different Days Off- Most employees in the business world work Monday-Friday having Saturdays and Sundays to rest. However those weekend days are some of the busiest days for ministers so at our church the pastoral staff is given Mondays and Tuesdays off. I love this because we miss the rush when we go out to eat or have family time, but when our kids are in school it will be difficult to maneuver opposite schedules (any advice for those in this boat is welcome!)
  1. Not Synonymous With Preacher– As most of you know my husband is the associate pastor and worship leader at our church. He does preach sometimes when our Pastor is away, but the term Pastor covers many roles besides preaching. Think of it like having a doctorate. When you think of Doctor it is typically a medical position, but you can academically be a Doctor in many different fields. It’s like that.
  1. They don’t have to wear suits– This might be obvious to many of you, but some people really do think all pastors wear suits. I don’t want to start a huge controversy on here, but the truth is some do some don’t. At our church they don’t. My husband typically wears jeans and a plaid shirt for his Sunday uniform.
  1. You don’t have to go to seminary– This is another super duper controversial statement. There was an episode of Friends where Joey was ordained online so that he could officiant Ross’s wedding. Being ordained is not always that simple though, some denominations have very specific criteria including being nominated, having a pastoral degree, and real life ministry experience.
  1. They can officiate weddings, funerals, and baby dedications– Along with baptisms these are some of the ceremonial traditions that only a pastor can do (conventionally anyway).

7. They work at least 40 hours each week– I was at a friends house and her little boy asked where J was. I answered that he was working at the church. The boy said “Is he practicing his guitar”. I thought it was cute. His mom said her boys think that J is up at the church working on music all day. Wouldn’t that be nice? The truth is there is a long list of things included in the responsibility of a pastor like overseeing all of the ministries within the church, working on the publications including the bulletin, ads, or mail outs, counseling people in the church, managing the building. The list could go on and on and it will be different for every church. In our case it ends up meaning lots of over time.

  1. They are not their own boss– A lot of people have the idea that the Pastor is the head of the church and runs the whole show. However in most churches there is a system of checks and balances just like the government. Our church is non denominational, but we do have a board of ministers outside of the church that we are accountable to and we have a group of elders that have biweekly meetings. These are the guys that determine our salary, benefits, and other major decisions.
  1. They may or may not have a formal title– Reverend, Brother, Bishop, Pastor, or just plain Mr. are some of the titles you may see before a minister’s names. Once again this depends on the denomination. Some people do refer to my husband as Pastor J when they address him, but if you do call him this don’t be surprised if you get a chuckle in response.
  2. They are real people– Pastors can be like celebrities in some ways. It’s like they are expected to perform on command in order to please an audience and then their lives and families are subjected to a level of criticism that no one should ever have to live up to. I don’t feel this way about our church, but I’ve certainly seen it happen. And I am not saying that spiritual leaders shouldn’t be held to a higher standard, or politicians for that matter (ahem, Weiner), but I am saying that Pastors are just people and unless anyone knows of any animals leading a congregation then that is a fact.

J with the youth pastor and lead pastor at a festival promoting our coffee shop ministry.

If I can get this post up by the end of the day I will link up with Oh Amanda’s Top Ten.
By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 7, 2011|Uncategorized|6 Comments

My Life as a Pastor’s Wife

The other day I found this list of “You Might Be A Pastor’s Wife If…” I will put my responses in blue.

Every summer you counsel at teen camp for your vacation.- Nope.
You have shaken as many hands as a politician.- Maybe if I went to a bigger church.
People think your husband works only three hours a week.- I hope not!
You can teach Sunday School and nurse your baby at the same time.- We don’t have Sunday School at our church.
You can sincerely pray for someone’s dog!- I’ve prayed for a chicken, I am sure I could pray for dog.
You spend more time visiting in hospitals than doctors do.- No.
People consider you a walking phone book for church members.- That’s what the internet is for.
You sing in the choir, teach Sunday School, and host a missionary family all in the same day.- No, No, and No*
You’re expected to be a piano player, a “spiritual gift!”- I wish.

I don’t think of myself as a pastor’s wife because I really don’t fit the traditional role. And for those that don’t know me, my husband is on staff at our church and has been for about 5 years as the associate pastor and is also the worship leader. So I may not claim to be a “PW”, but my husband is technically a pastor and I am technically definitely his wife. So yeah, I am a pastor’s wife, but I still like to rock out (i.e. Eisley last night at the Granada Theater. Woo Hoo!) However, I do want to clarify that traditional can be a subjective word and compared to some pastor’s families we may be super traditional and that’s great. I am not trying to be non-churchy I am just trying to be myself and let other ladies be themselves. If you are a pastor’s wife that fits in the list above, maybe wears nice department store dresses, and does Beth Moore Bible studies I think that’s great, it’s just not necessarily me. Traditional, progressive, conservative or not, being in ministry does have a major impact on a person’s life.That’s why, as boring as it may be, I wanted to take a little time this week to share some behind the scene details of life as a pastor’s wife.

* We may not have a choir, or sunday school, but for the record we do support and love many wonderful missionaries. None of them have stayed at our house though.

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 6, 2011|Uncategorized|2 Comments

Z Cracks Me Up

I would like to close this week out with one more post about that crazy son of mine. He’s pretty much a riot. Earlier this week he went streaking through the house and ran out the back door wearing nothing but his tiger tail. Then yesterday he hid all of his stuffed animals under the covers, went to the corner to count, and then spent 15 minutes looking for them. And I just now busted him for making raisin soup (ingredients, raisins and water).

We are always having conversations like this one that I wrote down yesterday

Am I going to get taller and bigger like daddy?

Yes I am sure someday you will.

Yeah, but not Saturday, and not Monday. No… but maybe later.

Of course stories like these are so much cuter if you know his voice so I will leave you with this.

By |2015-05-14T23:15:46+00:00June 4, 2011|Uncategorized|2 Comments
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