Casting Imaginations Part 2

I mentioned in Part 1 that I don't really have the desire to get a tattoo. Then when my husband finally said he would think about it, I realized then I should probably think about what I wanted! ;)

There wasn't any doubt that all I wanted was a Bible verse reference. No pictures, no other words, just the reminder of the words that play such a big part in my life. I wanted the reference II Corinthians 10:5 written across my left inner forearm, from my wrist to my elbow, in scripted lettering.

My mind, like all minds, is a battlefield.  My battlefield is overloaded with the enemy: negative thoughts.  They group together and attack the most vulnerable parts of my life, beating me down until I retreat.

I lose, I give in, I comply.  

There have been several times in my life in which the enemy has captured me and taken complete control of my thoughts, resulting in actions that literally almost destroyed me.  In some instances, it destroyed whatever life I knew at those times, causing painful rebuildings.

You think after one time I would've learned to fight harder, but I am so vulnerable to this enemy of negative thinking that I continue to lose over and over again.

There came a point in my life a few years back, in which I finally began winning.  This verse, recited over and over again, hanging in printed word wherever I could see it, was my sword.  I knew I needed to cast down EVERY thought that wasn't godly.  I needed to have the mind of Christ, and that wasn't possible while letting the negative consistently win.  

I was finally ready to go to battle prepared to fight instead of retreat or surrender.  I needed to capture those negative thoughts and RETRAIN them into thoughts that were obedient to Christ.  Not an easy task, and one which required a constant vigil, teaching and changing negative into what Christ himself would approve of.

The last couple of years I finally, finally, was able to have more victories than losses.  Victories in some areas I never thought was possible.

Then I began to slip again.  I put my armor down, let my guard down, and the enemy began waking up and slowly taking control again...

March 10 on 10

I decided I just don't like pictures without explanations, so I'm going back to the way I used to do it. :)

Zane's new favorite play place.  As soon as he hears me open the dryer door to remove a load, 

he dives in. :)  It's delayed my laundry time quite a bit lately, but hey, it's worth it. :)

My morning project was laundry and switching out kids clothes.  Packing away the too small, unpacking the next size up.

No, I didn't stencil today.  I actually spent time cleaning and rearranging Ruby's room after moving Zane to Noah's room a couple of weeks ago.  There was no way I was going to post a picture of the disaster area in there, and since I didn't get finished, I thought the wall was pretty enough. ;)

After two CONSTANT weeks with my kiddos, mommy HAD to get out of the house.  We drove to a favorite farm market, which was a nice drive through the country (which mommy LOVES to do).

Letting them get some energy out and soak up some sun!

Noah found some 'tire' pasta at the farm market and was simply fascinated (yeah, my kids are deprived). So I went ahead and splurged on them and fixed spaghetti wheels for dinner. :)

Noah has recently gotten into Mario Kart, so he and I spent time racing while the youngest 

two were in the tub. 

Bath time! 

Their favorite bedtime snack! I usually spell out their names/ages, but we're down to the bottom of the bag.

My cutie pie as he was walking to his room for bedtime. :)

As a bonus, the BEST picture of the day!  while taking a pic of Ruby petting the pony, I actually captured it BITING her!!! :)  hahaha... don't worry, it didn't hurt her.  but she finally listened when I told her NOT to put her fingers in its mouth! ;)

See much better pics here from the originator of the monthly 10 on the 10th! :)

missing

there are some days in our lives we never forget.

some are good, like the birth of each of my children.  i remember each moment of labor and delivery, and each moment getting to know them those first few days.

i remember walking down the aisle with my dad.  seeing the look on my soon to be husband's face when the doors opened is a look i will never forget.  i don't remember all of the wedding, but there are certain parts of it that are engraved on my memory, hopefully forever.

then there are the sad days. days when time stood still and the world stopped.

one of those sad days was 7 years ago today.  the day i lost my dad.

there had been a snow storm the night before, which canceled school for both Bryan and myself that day.  we were enjoying piddling around the house that day, and had sat down that afternoon to watch a movie together.  then my sister called and the world stood still.

i remember every detail of those next few days.  songs on the radio. the sky in ohio, then michigan, then kentucky.  i remember the sunny warm day of the visitation, which turned into a blizzard during the funeral procession the next day. i remember the people who came.  the people who cried. the many people whose hearts were just as broken as mine.  my dad only had two daughters, but he had been a 'dad' to many more.

i remember the strength i had during those 4 days.  strength that only came from God Himself. my mom and sister (who was only 19) were basket cases.  many times my mom was distant and incoherent. aunt and uncles, who like most southerners always talking, were silenced. my dad's youngest sister lost it during the funeral, and i was the one who got her up.

i made decisions i thought i'd never have to make. what my dad should wear, how he should look in the casket, my sister and i putting on his socks and shoes in the casket for the last time (something we always did for him growing up).  when the visitation and funeral should be.  finding a cemetery and then the exact spot for his burial.  decisions no one in their 20's should ever have to make. but my mom could barely form a sentence most of those days.  decisions God helped me make, with clear answers from Him.

there weren't many tears from me those 4 days either.  some here and there... i was rarely alone, and when with others, i was the one who had to be strong.

but every night, i was able to steal away time and sit in the outside stairway of the one motel in the city.  i called my sweet friend, kristi, every night and spent at least an hour talking over things with her.  she let me ramble on and on about the decisions and difficulties i had had each day, she prayed with me, she encouraged me, she let me be weak.  i know i wouldn't have made it without her help.

seven years later, i sit bawling through this post.  i miss him.  and when i'm alone, i can be weak.  i don't know if i'll ever see him again.  so i cling to the memories i have of him, and to his characteristics God gave to each of my children.

i hope he would be proud of me.

Casting Imaginations Part 1

I am not a tattoo kind of person.  I've never really wanted one... well, kinda.  The bug hit me once a few years ago when it first became 'popular' in the Christian circle, but hubby said no way.  After begging him for about 4 years, he finally gave in and said yes.  Then I decided I didn't want one.

Yeah.  I'm like that. ;)

I have nothing against those who have tattoos either.  Hey, it's not my body, so who am I to say what they should or shouldn't do.  

Except those tacky, nasty, looks like homemade, tattoos.  just. say. no.

Tattoos carry a certain stigma with them.  The more you have, the 'badder' you are.  Or the more rebellious.  Or the more 'insert anything here that doesn't go with normal society'.  

whatever normal is.

I believe it's starting to change in the minds of the younger Christian generation (Christians seem to be the ones to have the most issues with it).  It's nice to see, and I love when a tattoo covered person proves to be more 'righteous' than the other.

My sister has a sweet friend by the name of Rachael.  When I thought of tattoos, she popped into my head first. I met her the day of my sister's wedding, a fellow bridesmaid.  Our dresses were strapless and personally, I thought she would look the best of us (not counting the bride of course!). :)

The other bridesmaids were making snide remarks behind her back concerning her appearance.  Not a surprise.  Not a surprise because of Rachael, but because these other girls weren't the 'nicest'.  I immediately befriended her, and learned she is THE SWEETEST thing in the world.  I fell in love with her and who she was.

 Here's a pic of MY fav tattoo she has. :)  I just love it. :)

She posts a lot on fb about how others see her appearance and judge her simply by that.  It breaks my heart, because if they talked to her for 2 seconds, they'd realize how amazing she is.  Not only is she sweet, but she is one of the hardest workers in her generation that I know of.  I don't think it really bothers her though.  She doesn't judge others and knows that those who do aren't worth wasting your time on.

OF COURSE I had to post a pic of her owl tattoo!! :)  it goes right with my blog. :)

I love her tattoos.  I tend to be the 'weird' person who actually stares and reads tattoos on people.  I like to see the art and professionalism and personality in them.  A part of who they are on the inside being displayed on the outside.  When people realize I'm not staring to be rude, they light up and enjoy sharing about the tattoo they chose to mark their bodies with forever.  (once again, not talking about the tacky, tasteless ones).

It's a personal decision.  When they're chosen, it's a constant reminder to that person of the reason they chose that specific design.  It's a reminder to focus on what is important to them.

A reminder to place their thoughts on a positive instead of a negative...