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I hate being sick. I hate the chills. I hate the tiredness and the aches and the pains. I hate the medications that tear up my stomach and I hate the time it takes to rebuild my digestive system from the damage of the meds. I hate feeling dirty or oily or whatever I feel because I took a shower and laid on the couch all day with wet hair.

Sigh.

What I have discovered though is that there is some blessing in being sick. I have learned that I only get sick when I’ve done something that was not careful for myself. I hugged the snotty kid Sunday and forgot to wash my hands after. I drank one too many glasses of wine. I ate one too many helpings of the rich, wonderful food that was served to me. I didn’t rest enough. I didn’t take my vitamins. I allowed myself to become dehydrated.

Any one or all of these things can knock me down and serve as a wake up call to self love. I can not be a blessing to my family and my friends if I am not caring first for myself. God has trusted me with an amazing husband and two beautiful children who need me. He has put me in a place of leadership in ministry where I have a role to fulfill. If I don’t care for myself then I fall. So the blessing of sick comes with the reminder that I am a beloved child of God who needs to be treated with love and respect.

Our American culture puts so much power in the idea that we have to be busy, over-scheduled, rise-to-the-top women who can do it all. We work through the coughs and the aches and we power on. What if we slowed down a bit though? What if we took a moment in the morning, before our feet hit the floor, to thank God for his goodness? What if we took the extra few minutes to feed ourselves a healthy, nutrient rich breakfast? What if we slowed down enough to breathe?

When I do these things I bring a level of health to my family. I bring richness and peace because I am living in richness and peace. I wish I could say I do it well all the time. If I did I wouldn’t be typing this from my couch with a low-grade fever. But I am choosing to give myself enough grace to say, “Yes, I got sick. I will take the time I need to heal. I deserve that. My family deserves that.” And I will choose to live in the richness of that grace as I move forward. I will remind myself to rest. I will nudge the plate away when my belly cries out in fullness. I will avoid the foods that cause distress and I will exercise – not to be skinny but to be strong and energy filled. I will keep hugging the snotty kids but I will remember to wash up afterward.

There is no nobility is living a life of chaos. It always catches up with us. For me, it shows up like strep throat and mono. For you it may be acne or indigestion or high blood pressure. God has given us bodies that cry out when we don’t love ourselves; when we don’t care for His creation with gentleness. Imagine the peace and health in our homes if we chose to live lives of peaceful care.

So today I say no to the extra commitments. I’m turning down the add on calendar events. I’m not going to be Wonder Woman today. I’m going to allow my body rest in order to heal so I can be “Wife” and “Mom” in the best way I know to be.

There’s that saying, you know the one, “When Mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy.”

What about when Mama is sick?

I started noticing my throat yesterday. A throat is something you shouldn’t notice. It just does it’s job as a throat. Swallowing. Breathing. Throating.

But I noticed it all afternoon. It didn’t hurt really but I knew it was there. When I swallowed my food or drink I felt it’s presence.

Last night my throat hurt. Great. Maybe it’s just allergies. We do live in Houston, after all. Allergies can be an aggravation on any given day. We had a lot of rain last week. Yes. It’s probably allergies.

This morning my throat was screaming at me. It was yelling things like, “Hey! I’m a throat and I’m angry!”

Ain’t nobody around here got time for an angry throat. I had to take Shelby to the dermatologist today and I’m supposed to go to a three day conference for work tomorrow.

After I took Shelby back to school from her appointment I ran by the local stop-in-and-see-a-physician’s assistant-place. Strep throat.

My husband asked,”Where do you think you caught it?”

Hmmm. That’s the beauty of a job in KidMin. You can catch all sorts of great germs from kids. They never wear a sign that says,”I just picked a green booger from my nose!” or “I’m running a low-grade fever!” when they come racing down the hall to hug you. So I hug necks and kiss cheeks. And apparently I catch germs. But I’ll never stop hugging so I guess that’s a risk I take.

I’m religious about hand washing and vitamin taking and water drinking so I feel like I do the best I can to avoid such disasters as strep throat but sometimes a germ or two sneak in and I get caught.

I’m loaded up now with antibiotics and nose sprays and throat lozenges and I’m praying I’m better withing a day or so. Because when Mama’s sick…nothing. Nothing stops. Mama just keeps going.

I know how to create the illusion of many things. I can see my hair stylist every 4-5 weeks and create the illusion of being blond. I can use my favorite bronzer and create the illusion of cheek bones. I learned very recently how to use that same bronzer to create the illusion of a jaw bone.
I can work wonders with a splash of pine cleaner and give the illusion of a clean bathroom in a very short amount of time. I’ve even learned that clean windows can give the illusion of a cleaner room.
I have not, however, learned to create the illusion of a peaceful home. I think it’s either peaceful or it’s not. There’s not a way to fake peace. I can put on a smile when I’m in public and I can only put the best lit pictures on Facebook. I could only tell the funny, amusing stories of my family on my blog. I could do all of those things and make you believe all sorts of things about my life.
The truth  though, is that when you walk into my home there is no way to fake peace. When my kids come home from school I can’t put on an illusion of peace for them. When my husband walks in the door each night there is either a peaceful setting or there isn’t.
I want my home to be a place of peace and rest and comfort but it won’t happen if I don’t take proactive steps to make it that way. Here are some things I’m trying:

• Meal Planning. I know it makes the busiest of moms roll their eyes but the truth is that taking an hour a week to look at recipes and make a decision on five or six meals saves me loads of wasted energy and frustration each night. I get out a piece of paper and write down the meals my family enjoy and won’t fight me on when it comes time to sit down at the table. I make it a rule to not try more than one new recipe a week. I don’t have time or energy for meals that don’t work and I’m not willing to risk it too often. Don’t get me wrong – I try new recipes all the time. Just not too often in one week. I make a grocery list based on the recipes I’ve chosen and add whatever other items we will need for breakfast and lunches.
• Limit Grocery Store Trips. This can only happen if I stick to the meal planning. Running to the grocery store after work is a hassle because of all the other people who are running to the grocery store after work. If I have to take the kids with me it only adds to the chaos. I try to set aside a time when I can go without the kids and when it’s not prime time, high traffic hour at the HEB.
• Assign Jobs to Everyone. Both of my kids have jobs to do every day at home. They have a really nice life and live in a really nice house. They are old enough to help take care of the house and all that happens in it. They are also old enough to understand that we can get to fun family moments much faster if we all chip in on the not-so-fun chores. Shelby has to help load and unload the dishwasher. Seth has to help with trash. They both have to pick up their own clutter and put it away every day. No strewn homework. No clothes or shoes left out. Each night before bed it all goes up and gets put away.
• Family Dinner is a Priority. This is hard. I know how hard this is. This is the one where people usually tell me the four-thousand reasons their family can’t sit down together. But here’s the reality….wait for it…hold on…You Are In Control Of Your Family Schedule.  I know that little Susie wants to take ballet, tap, and mountain clogging in addition to Latin, cello, and Girl Scouts. I get that you want to give her all the best opportunities that you never had and that you want to do the same for little Jeffrey. Jeffrey plays football, basketball, hockey, and runs marathons for charities. It’s all good stuff and I’m sure that all the colleges will want them because they are so well rounded. I feel certain of it. Except no. NO! It’s a lie that we have been fed that if we keep our kids super busy they will be the best version of themselves. My kids aren’t that old and I’m not an expert by any means but I do believe with my whole heart that the best thing for our kids is that they know that God loves them and that their dad and I love them. That’s something that happens when we spend time with them. It happens when we sit down together several times a week (notice I didn’t say 7 nights a week – I am a realist and my kids are involved in some activities) and eat together and talk about life.
• Limit Activities. I realize I just jumped on a small soapbox about this during the Family Dinner point but it’s important so I’m mentioning it again. It also helps make all the other points possible. We can’t have family dinner, we can’t take care of our house, and we don’t need to meal plan if we aren’t having family meals together because we are too busy. If my kids have an activity every single night then our schedule becomes rushed and chaotic. If we are always running here and there and everywhere we are not sitting down and looking at each other’s faces. We aren’t talking about life. And then I miss out on a lot. And they miss out on me. And we miss. We miss.

I had a conversation with a family member several months back that centered around my mom’s suicide. It was an aunt that I hadn’t spoken to in years, not by my own desire, but by hers. I had decided to find out, once and for all, why certain family members seemed to want little to nothing to do with me. In the years following Mom’s death I had grieved so deeply losing her but also the loss of her family. I never understood the distance and I needed to find out reason.
It turns out that someone, thinking that they were helping to bring closure to my mom’s sisters in the days after Mom’s death, had sold them a pack of lies. I’d like to believe that this person didn’t know they were lying and that maybe they had assumed things long enough and had come to believe them to be truths. I’d like to believe that this person’s heart was in the right place.
The reality is, however, that this person is dead. My mom is also dead. I can’t go back and find the truth. I can’t ask this person where the information came from and I can’t ask my mom about her feelings. And unfortunately, a group of people who once loved me unconditionally, chose to believe lies for so many years (instead of coming to me long ago and clarifying the story) that their love gained conditions and built walls.
Forgiveness is hard when it comes to abandoned love. I’ve given it because, well, it has to be given if any of us want to move on. But it’s hard to move on from abandonment. Walls are hard to tear down and boundaries that were drawn are hard to erase. So I ask God for strength and courage to live a life of love and truth. I ask him to help me love others in the way I so desperately wanted to be loved. I pray that he shows me how to open my home in love and be a person of peace for others. I also ask that he opens my eyes to people he has given me who love me for who I am and not for what I do or have done. Or in spite of what I do or have done.

I used to get very worked up when we were expecting company. Back in the early days of our marriage it was fairly common for my husband to call on the way home from work and tell me that he had a coworker in the car with him for dinner. I would panic, start mopping, throw all the mail in a drawer and all the laundry in the closet.
Over the years I have become a bit more relaxed in my entertaining style. I’ve learned tricks to freshen up the house in a pinch but I’ve also stopped stressing so much about what people think of my home. I go more with the “clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy” motto.
I’ve also learned to create quick and easy snacks and meals that require little prep and are both good for the body and soul. I’ve learned how to stretch pasta and meat sauces to extend the serving size by one and I know that I glass of nice, red wine will soothe the soul and relieve nerves of any guest. Or hostess.
I now know that entertaining is more about making people feel loved and welcomed than serving the perfect pork chop. I know that an amusing story and a listening ear go farther that a perfectly mopped floor. I understand that eye contact and hugs at the door are far more welcoming than a vanilla scented candle. (Although I still burn candles!)
I want my home to be a place of comfort and peace; a place where people can come to sit and breathe. I hope that when people enter here they feel loved and known and cared for. I want my food to nourish their soul along with their body and I pray that our conversation warms the heart.
God has placed it on my heart lately to be more intentional with my entertaining – that it not be just about having fun but about helping hearts heal. I also want to help others get over the small pieces of anxiety that keep them from opening their own homes to others.  I’m going to accomplish this by dedicating more of my reading and writing towards the subject of entertaining with purpose. I’ll never be Martha Stewart – nor do I want to be. My goal is to simply relax more, love deeper, and share my home with others.

There’s a trick to teaching a dog not to dig. Have you heard the poop tactic before? This is a nugget of information that people with small, pocket size dogs probably don’t need to know. It’s crucial, however, when you own a horse dog.
Pocket dogs could dig and dig and dig and you’d have to fill a hole with a teaspoon. Giant breed dogs dig for two minutes and you fall in a hole that carries you to Middle Earth.
So the trick is this…it’s gross so hold on…you bury the dog poop. When Frank was a puppy he showed tendencies towards a desire to dig. A wise dog trainer told me to simply place a turd or two into the hole he has been digging, bury it, and he will have no desire to dig in that particular place anymore. The hard part about this training technique (like all dog training) is that you MUST be consistent. Every hole, every area of the yard, every start of digging must be filled with poop and covered.
I did this for about a week. I had to watch him like a hawk. There was no letting him out the door and walking away. I would let him out, stand behind the window curtain like I was a poop carrying James Bond, and watch for him to dig. I would run out, say, “No!” in a loud and firm voice, and then pick up my shovel.
If you’re asking how we had that much poop to fill all the holes then you don’t own a Giant Breed and this information is not for you.
I haven’t had to think about burying poop for several years. After that one week of training, Frank gave up digging. Some say it’s because the dog feels it has sufficiently spread it’s own scent throughout the yard. I say Frank had mercy on me and was tired of seeing me running with a shovel filled with poop.
This week I am pet sitting a lab puppy that likes to dig. I have begun the poop burying process again. The trick is knowing which poop is his from the pile of daily scooping.
I realize right now that my life may appear very glamorous. Try not to be jealous.
I actually had another thought this week though, as I was burying poop. There have been countless times in my life when I have been incessantly pursuing something. A thing, an idea, a goal, whatever….that isn’t healthy for me. I think back at how many times God has said, “Stop! That’s not good for you. Put that down. Let go of that. Walk away.” I generally will put down whatever the bad thing is and step to another area of life and start digging.
What would happen if I asked God to help me bury the bad? What if I said, “God, I don’t want to mess with this harmful thing again so I need you to get the shovel” and then fully laid it down? I’m assuming the scent of a buried past would help me to avoid digging up old holes again. I feel certain that God has some blessings he’s been holding out for me that I haven’t been able to see because I’ve been too busy digging on the other side of the yard.  How many rests by the fire or walks down the lane have I missed out on with my Father because I was obsessively digging holes?
Healing doesn’t come in questioning the what-ifs but in making a conscious decision every day to ask God to bring the shovel. Healing comes when I can have peace in my heart, knowing that God wants more for me than obsessively searching for something that is outside of his will. Healing comes when I hand all the poop over and not dig it up again.