My Pal

This is my pal, Isabelle. The big guy, that's Isabelle's Daddy. The little guy, that's Isabelle's new(ish) baby brother, Daniel.

Isabelle's hair, not so hot this particular day. But I still love her. And I love her brother. They are pretty much my kids...well, as much as someone else's kids could be my kids. You know.

More photos to come of a ten week older Isabelle and Daniel.

Harboring Bitterness

I came to a realization the other day. I harbor bitterness. It's true. And you know, it's something that I maybe always knew but never wanted to admit. Or maybe I never really thought it through well enough to realize that what was coming out of my mouth was even bitter. But man. It really is, isn't it.

There are so many little things that I make into bigger issues. But the worst of it is, I make them non-issues in the presence of the cause and huge issues to anyone else who will listen. Right, Alisha? I mean, how many times have I said to my roommate, "Oh, I'll clean the bathroom. I really don't mind," only to turn around to my parents and say, "Guess who had to clean the toilet again. Man, I hate that." Or how many times have a listened to the piddly drama in my office with a smile on my face, only to rush to a friend outside of work and acknowledge how much it really steams me.

The true fact of the matter is that the bitterness that comes out of my mouth in the face of trusted friends stems from what should be non-issues in life. Does it really bother me all that much to clean the toilet if it needs to be cleaned? Is it really such a big deal if the assistants in the office are at each others' throats every now and then? And even if office drama did directly effect me, does it even matter then? If someone says something about me, if I get caught in the crossfire...even then, in the end, in the whole mad scheme of life, is it really worth getting riled about? Does it really matter that much?

And to put my friends and family into such a situation to have to listen to only my complaints, only my angry bitter thoughts...how fair is that to them? And how true is that to my real heart? Is that what is really in my heart? And as I reflect, maybe it is. It was. But to what end?

So, today is my turning point. It is a day to reflect on my many seeds of bitterness, many of which are harbored deep within, for no reason but to take up space. Today will be the start of a change, a much needed change, in my heart, in my very way of thinking. All the little things of life that should not take up space, should not waste my time, should not effect my heart...they will be washed out, restoring me to the happy, true-loving soul that I once was. And I won't be doing it alone. An amazing God has brought this to my attention, and He will, as He always does, continue to work on me. And that is the hope that I hold onto.

It's a beautiful day, isn't it? A refreshing day to be lived to the fullest. And starting today, I will.

(And if you're wondering where in the world all this came from, I would highly suggest reading "The Shofar Blew" by Francine Rivers.)

Check Transmission

Easter has quickly come and gone, but it was every bit worth driving home for. And even though I only got about an hour and a half of tradition, it filled that little spot in my heart. My favorite moment was just walking in the door. The general hustle and bustle of holiday feasts was just wrapping up and all the kids were playing in the living room, and Kelton quickly rushed to hug my legs tight. He may have actually been excited to see me, but the odds are better that he was more excited to get outside and finally get those hidden Easter eggs. "Wait for Lindsey" must have been said a hundred times or more as the four year olds patiently watched the windows for me to arrive. Either way, it was worth every mile.

On a completely unrelated note, how seriously should one take the "Check Transmission" light? Because I'd really love to be stranded four or so hours from home on day one of a four day trip. Yeah, that'd be fun.

Easter, Really?

Is anyone else having a hard time believing that this weekend is Easter already? There are certain holidays and markers throughout the year that I typically use to follow time, perhaps in an effort to slow it down, and Easter is typically one of them.

Now, last year, my family graciously came to Platteville for Easter so that I could both sing in the church choir and spend Easter dinner with them. And, as much as I enjoyed spending that time, after it was all said and done, I felt a strange guilt/sadness that at first I couldn't really explain. As it turns out, that feeling was one of tradition lost. For twenty two years, or at least as long as I could remember, Easter had been exactly the same. Easter baskets filled with bad-for-your-teeth goodies, Sunday morning church service, then a feast at Aunt Myra's house with the whole family. And let's not forget the egg hunt that took place even after we were too old to enjoy it.

There was just something special about that time as a family, and having something, as trivial as it was, that stood the test of time. Now, I would imagine that this life-long tradition will not be one that holds for too many more years as we all grow up, and our families grow bigger, but for now, there's nothing better than the status quo, and I could not be more excited about going home, even for a day.

I know I say this all the time, but this weekend, it couldn't seem more true, that time goes by faster and faster every year that you're alive. And, sitting here at just below the quarter-century mark, it's hard to believe that life could go any faster. To anyone older than I: How in the world do you do it? How do you hold on to just enough time to accomplish life?

Although I could continue this reminiscence about the pace of life, for now I will get back to work. Life is calling, and who am I to ignore the call? Enjoy your Easter weekend, cherish your family, and live!