In honor of Thanksgiving past: stretched out yoga pants and bad ingredients

So I have an admission to make.

I've never seen Restaurant Impossible.

Until after church on Sunday.  My Pastor at Expression Church mentioned it in one of his opening stories.  You know, the ones a Pastor uses in the beginning to get you all relaxed, engaged and in your seats… the one that you are so engrossed in and following and then wha'baam… you're sucked in to whatever he wants to say next.

He's brilliant.

Mostly because God's made our pastor brilliant and partly because I have ADHD at church and the minute you pull out an organ, some responsive ritual that I don't know (and subsequently won't pay attention because I don't want to talk at the wrong time) or something that sounds very ominous or huilt-inducing… I'm out.  Surfing my phone, doodling on the announcements… out.  I would probably post on Facebook something like #countingminutestilStarbucks

So back to Restaurant Impossible.  The basic gist of the program is that the host, Robert Irvine, helps rescue flailing restaurants by coming in and consulting… giving feedback and a plan to help the restaurant succeed.  All in the timing of one show.  (Talk about your chances of being cut on the editing room floor… I bet they have HOURS of footage that gets driven down to a precise air time.)

In most episodes, Robert asks the chef to cook up all of his favorite dishes so that he could sample them.  Needless to say, all of them were inedible by Robert's standards.  I mean… bad.

Consistently, one particular piece of advice is given to the owner of the restaurant:

"You need to use different ingredients."

Now I want to give credit where credit is due… Pastor Ryan did a great job at laying out a quick analogy for this restaurant but it got me chewing on it for awhile…

Modern culture needs different ingredients.  

Today's culture isn't going to be fixed with a fancier car, a new diet plan or a "20 days to a better marriage" conference.  And, when I mean today's culture… I'm talking about what we see when we turn on the TV… read the web or the news… watch "E!" or buy "In Style" magazine.  (I refuse to hyperlink those!)  It's what we see our neighbor wearing, doing, saying, dressing like.  Culture.  The majority.  You know, "go with the flow?"  You know….

The #Kardashians?

#MileyCyrus?

The Biebs?

#snapchat?

(Yes.  I just typed with hashtags.)  And you can "humpf" all you want about the people I mentioned up above… but the reality is we all know who those people are… which means we all know a bit about pop culture.  Which means it starts to become part of our background… normal.  Can I suggest we turn this notion of "go with the flow" on it's head?

Cuz, friends, "goin' with the flow" ain't workin!

This notion of believing in a God, or Jesus.. like it's an accessory that we can just add or take off when it works for us.. isn't working.  We need to START with Jesus and add on from there.  

Here's the amazing thing… if we start with the Big Man (that would be Jesus, stay with me!) then HE actually provides the rest of the recipe.  He provides the ingredients (including you!) He even provides the "salt" that makes everything better…. 

Crickey, you don't even need cooking skills!  (PREACH!)

So as you are wearing your stretchy yoga pants for the 4th day in a row… may I offer up a suggestion as we roll into the holiday season?  May we consider what ingredients are going into our minds… our hearts… our souls?  Especially as we jump in waist-deep to a season filled with joy and awe…but also a "culture" of materialism, hurriedness and competition.  

Take a moment or two and reflect on this new "main" ingredient for your life.

What did you come up with?

Share…. what's one "bad" ingredient you can omit in your life this month?  

Tell me… post it…share and don't forget to sign up for blog posts right into your inbox (right side your screen)…especially if you are omitting FB this next month!  

Two things bad roots and big bags taught me

Oh wait, it's just Thursday.

Come to think of it, why would I "TGIF," even if it was a Friday?

Friday isn't really too different from any other weekday.  Up at 6:21 a.m. via my iPhone alarm; bleary eyed, I head to the kitchen for shift #1:

Coffee into cup.  Add creamer.  Add more creamer.  Sip.  Peel eyes open. Check.

Quiet time w/ Jesus.  (Consists of 2nd sip of coffee and out -loud prayer. "Jesus, help me this morning.")  Check.

Wake two "would rather not be woken" children out of deep sleep.  Listen to general sounds of malaise and discontent about being woken at ungodly hour.  Check.

Greet my preschooler who has absolutely no authorization to be up so early (what human can survive the world at 4 years of age on just 9 hours of sleep?) from the stairs as he sing-songs at volume LOUD, "Good morning mom!  It's 6-3-0 on my clock!"  Check.

Cook 3 breakfasts, prepare 3 variation of lunches (because 3 the human beings I grew have absolutely no food commonalities.)  Check.

One, two, three, FOUR reminders of homework in backpacks, water bottles filled, permission slips signed, shoes located, (trust me, I have bins... you just gotta USE them.)  Check.

Kisses, prayers and send two offspring out the door.  Exhale.  Check.

It doesn't really matter if it's a Friday or not.  I'm exhausted writing out my morning routine.  Don't get me started on my Saturdays.  Three boys?  Living in the land of middle-class suburbia where playing just ONE sport makes them highly unusual already?  No, our Saturdays are the epitome of "minivan shuttle service" which also provides complimentary laundering service, complimentary beverages and snacks, not to mention psychological encouragement, coaching and every so often, first-responder or basic first-aid responsibilities.  That, is on a day we're NOT volunteering for one of the teams.  (Is it sad that my husband and I both volunteered to announce our son's recent football game just so we could get some time together?)

Now I'm really exhausted as I proofread this and realize how many "lines in the sand" I've stepped... I mean PLOWED across at 65mph in my mini-van (a line in the sand itself.)

So, even if it's not a TGIF, it's another day in the life of a stay at home mom... who's primary responsibility of running the family's home is busy, to say the least.  I didn't even drop the info bomb about our hot water tank "failing" and dumping 300 gallons of water in our attic crawl space and garage below.  Did you know that drywall dust is very, very fine and gets EVERYWHERE?????

To think my husband just got the whole garage organized... now it's all loaded in a POD parked in our driveway.  :)

Onward....

I meant for this to be short...OBVIOUSLY I have some pent up feelings today... but I"m hoping just one of you have been here before and handled it better than me?

After my hair stylist and lunch date cancelled on me within 20 minutes of each other... I was bummed out this morning.  You saw my morning... I mean, where are MY Mary Jane's?  Where's MY milk and cookies?  Oh yeah, mom's have servant hearts.  Yes... yes I do.  But it's also just fine to look forward to sitting for 2 hours and having someone touch your hair that doesn't want a snack or sex, right?  Sure I gotta pay for it... but the two hours is worth it and ON TOP OF THAT I get 7 weeks of pretending I have blonde hair.  A hair-stylist that can't reschedule for another week may as well be like someone deliberately popping your child's balloon at the midway of the state fair.

Traumatizing.

Then my lunch date cancelled.  Big bummer.  Food?  Prepared?  Without having to clean up?  Total treat!  Big people convo?  Priceless.  Now, like my balloon analogy... my own lip is quivering as I fight the pity party I can feel welling up inside of me.

Pity turns to fuming.  It's like my hairdresser and friend know each other.  Really... two dates canceling in 20 minutes?  I bet THEIR going to go and have lunch.  That is just so mean.  So rude.  So.......

Wait.  What am I going to do... I've go two choices; Tailgate at the pity party or make some lemonade?

So what do I do?

Provide the BBQ and tent, of course!  I look in the mirror... I see lots of mud-colored hair... matted flat to my head from the rush of the morning shift.  I peer in closer and see the Louis-Vitton tote-bag-sized bags that have formed under my eyes.  (Sponsored in part by a dear four year old who not only needs just 9 hours of sleep but is having massive nightmares in this phase of life.)  The pounding headache is back, reminding me that indeed, I was up every 55 minutes for most of the night and that now, with this amount of REM sleep, or lack thereof, I will need to cancel my plans to join friends at a NW Wine Social at their club.  (Another  cat's meow for any mom who lives in Lycra and tenny-runners all day AND happens to LOVE fermented grapes from the NW.)

I can almost smell the BBQ at the pity party tailgate.  I have two options.  Continue down this rabbit hole or remind myself of the truth?

Having chased the rabbit down the hole several times, I realize my crossroads look familiar and decide to take a right turn... down truth lane.

LESSON #1: (for you note-takers) We don't HAVE to live this way.

What do I mean?

I don't have to spend time wallowing in my situation.  I don't have to pity.  No.  I can rise above.  And, I'm talking about some crafted Polyanna "singing bluebird" attitude either.  You don't have to pull up your own bootstraps.  If you don't have your own bible, go search online "John 14:26."  It says that Jesus sent his "advocate" for us.... the Holy Spirit... to be our helper.  So our perspective change isn't just a matter of us pasting on a smile and saying, "Oh well, I'm dusted in a fine layer of sheet rock, sleepless and am now left w/ a wide open schedule thanks to be cancelled on... I guess I'll just learn to love my roots and eat leftover Rice A Roni for lunch."  Joy.  Joy.  Joy.  No... God knew we needed the Holy Spirit to get us out of rabbit holes...give us some perspective.  Remind us to knock it off!  


2 Timothy 1:7
New Living Translation (NLT)
7 For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.

I don't have to live by a fallen (sinful) spirit of a 40 year old whose exhausted and emotional.  No, I have the holy spirit inside of me who reminds me of who I am.  The way I explain it to my kids is that the Holy Spirit, Jesus and God have been around a LOT longer than they have... so they have a lot more time to learn how to navigate life's up and downs... stay steady and not be tempted to chase down  every rabbit.


LESSON #2:  When in doubt, always turn right down truth lane:

Here's some truth:


Psalm 139:13-16 
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Jeremiah 29:11 

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

1 John 3:1 

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 

It really doesn't matter whether my hair style is from last Tuesday and has subsequently been put in a ponytail ever since....without shampoo or water.  It doesn't matter that the bags under my eyes are bigger than my chin.  It doesn't matter that I fed my kids cereal for the last 34 breakfasts in a row (I didn't but you get my drift.)

GOD LOVES US AS WE ARE.  

He made us.  He knows.  He KNOWS.  Whether you are frustrated with this season, feeling hidden, feeling like you could host your own pity party... he knows, he loves you and wants to offer you a hand to get back up and out of the "pity toilet bowl."  You are loved.  Wholly loved.  Just as you are.  Nothing you have done this morning, this last week, year or lifetime can separate you from God's love once you reach up your hands and ask him for a big hug.


If you are like me, you might be wondering, "So, how did it turn out?  Did you post a snide FB post about your neighbor?  Throw a rock at your stylist's salon?  Will you be on Jerry Springer?"

(Sorry, cracking myself up.)

Ahhh... no.  The reality and humbling truth is that it took about 45 minutes of me piddling my time away, feeling sorry for myself before I returned to my bible and read the verses I shared with you today.  Truthfully, 45 wasted minutes that I could have been praying for someone, cooking a meal for someone, catching up with someone... all those things we think we are "too busy" for.  (Sigh.)

Finally, I turned to the truth for a change in perspective and let the holy spirit guide my thoughts.  My neighbor and hairdresser weren't conspiring.  In fact, how many times have I needed to cancel last minute?  Duh... that will give you some compassion... turn it around and realize how often you've done the same thing.  Of course we'll reschedule- can't wait to spend time with my new friend.

I found another hairdresser... I'm now back to my pre-children color.  The bags are still there but they are marks of a caring mom who stayed up through the night to be with her child.  (And I figure I'll just go to bed when they do tonight... saves me the calories of the fermented grapes and the $35 on the sitter.)

That's why I love getting God's perspective on our situations and our emotions.  He has a 94 year perspective on my life... so I don't need to be ruled by my sleep deprived, morning perspective.  I can rest in truth and know that even if my children don't appreciate me at 6:20 a.m..... even if my hairstylist has an emergency and cancels... I am wholly loved, fearfully and wonderfully made.

And you know what?  So are you.