So I can tell you how to get to Sesame Place, but I am not sure I want to go there right now.
This weekend should have been filled with anticipation for getting on the road with the Caveman, Alien, and Big Papi, but it wasn’t. This Sunday should have gone quickly because I had too much to do. Instead the seconds ticked as slowly as a child anticipating the arrival of Santa.
On Friday while sitting at my desk at work I received a call from Dude-pa, my step father. He called me to give me the news that my Pastor Stowe had passed away.
Pastor Stowe is the man who made me understand my faith and the importance of my role as spiritual guardian of my children. I met this man when I was 15, and while I appreciated his role I didn’t understand how important he was to forming the grown-up I am today.
When my parents decided to join Gloria Dei church I wanted no part of the church or relationship with God they were creating. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I believed in Jesus, God, the Holy Spirit. Actually if I’m honest I didn’t believe that God believed in me.
Pastor Stowe always believed in me. When I married Big Papi I actually decided to have the other pastor at our church marry us. I do not regret this as Pastor Freeborne is a man I admire and respect. Pastor Stowe still came to my wedding along with his beautiful wife Joy. I have amazing pictures of them dancing. When I had the Caveman I suddenly longed for the comfort of Pastor Stowe to lead my child to the water.
Getting ready for the baptism of my Caveman, I remember sitting in the Nave with Pastor Stowe and asking him about joining the church. He offered to come to our house, even while he had so much to do and was in ill health, to help bring Big Papi on board. Luckily Big Papi agreed to attend Pastor’s class, which is how one becomes a member of Gloria Dei. I am so thankful that I was able to share that time with Pastor Stowe.
During Pastor’s class I learned that we were all ‘cracked pots’ as Pastor Stowe would call us. Even he was included in the cracked pot category. Most people, particularly men of power have a way of not showing vulnerability. Pastor Stowe welcomed his imperfections and embraced other’s. He had a way of explaining God’s love that made you feel a part of Pastor Stowe’s journey. If Pastor Stowe was talking to you it was always with you never down to you. Though wise he never boasted his knowledge. He accepted people as they were at that moment always seeing the possibilities.
My daughter was one of the last children he baptized, and that is incredibly special. Pastor Stowe loved performing baptisms and felt that bringing children to the water of Christ was a parent’s important responsibility. I think that is why he loved the school so much. Gloria Dei has a wonderful elementary school and day care program. Pastor Stowe did not have children of his own as he told me because he knew he could not be the father he wanted to be and still be the pastor he was expected to be.
As I sat through church service today and saw the many people there with tears in their eyes and sorrow in their hearts I felt that I had lost a grandfather. It was then I realized that every person sitting in that church, every child that sat in the classrooms were his children.
Dude-pa would not be the man he is without Pastor Stowe; I never got to thank Pastor Stowe for that.
My husband would not have a relationship with Jesus without the influence of Pastor Stowe. I need to thank Pastor for that as well.
My children have an amazing church home to grow in because of the hard work Pastor Stowe did.
If you are a person that prays, please pray for the congregation of Gloria Dei. Our grandfather has died and I feel lost. I know that Pastor Stowe had been sick for a long time, and now he is at peace. Many people loved this man, and the best part about Pastor Stowe is that he truly loved everyone.
This world is not ever going to see a man of his quality. In fact we were just fortunate to have him for how ever brief of a time we did get him.
Goodbye for now Pastor Stowe. I am craving one of your big bear hugs. Thank you for loving me and believing in my faith, especially when I did not believe in myself.
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
"Food, love, career, and mothers, the four major guilt groups". - Cathy Guisewite
So this weekend I realize that I can’t always be there for the Caveman and Alien’s first moments.
This weekend our church is hosting an Easter egg hunt which the Caveman is finally old enough to participate in. I have an algebra test on Saturday during the hunt. I am going to miss the Caveman holding his basket looking for eggs. I feel guilty.
When I was pregnant with the Caveman I was a manager of a Lotion Land working an average of 50 hours a week. I realized that my weekends and holidays would likely be spent in a mall selling lotion to the masses and not at baseball games, birthday parties, and holiday celebrations. I gave up that life because I wanted to be there for those important events in my children’s lives. Never did I imagine that even with this change there would still be certain moments I would miss.
This guilty feeling has me thinking that it is so important not to become so engrossed in the kids’ lives that you lose yourself. I saw this Monday’s Oprah and she was talking to moms. This conversation was different because they really talked about everything it is to be a mommy. The one theme that I realize is motherhood is sacrifice.
One of the members of the mommy panel mentioned that no one told her about the sacrifices you make to be a mommy. I thought that was silly at first because everyone should know the second you get pregnant you are already sacrificing happy hours, coffee, and sushi. Not to mention the actual birth process should be right up there for nomination of a Nobel Prize. I believe if men had to give birth there would be awards or Medals of Honor for surviving. The only Medal of Honor I have is the stretch marks- yeah those aren’t exactly exciting to show off. Or you should earn hazard pay for the amount of body fluids you come into contact with. I never knew how often a nine month old baby could pee.
No those sacrifices and the lack of sleep are to be expected. What I miss when I had children is the ability to leave the house without carrying at least one diaper bag. I long for the ability of being able to go out with my girlfriends without a conference with my husband. I no longer burn candles. I am a regular buyer of chocolate milk. I know all the words to the Elmo potty DVD. No adult should have to watch Elmo repeatedly- and if you do enjoy the Elmo as an adult seriously I believe you need help. The one thing that really annoys me is when I am finally able to sit down and eat my dinner after making sure the Caveman and Alien have had theirs is when the Caveman comes up and asks for a bite. We are trying to break him of this habit but it still involves me stopping my meal to tell him no.
The one thing no one could really prepare me for is the amount of guilt involved with kids. I feel guilty when I punish the Caveman. I feel guilty when I let the Alien cry it out in her crib instead of getting up from my bed. When I send the kids off in the morning with Big Papi to be dropped off at the preschool and sitter’s I feel guilty. When I write this blog and whine about all the little things that someday I’ll look back and wish I could have one more day of the Caveman and Alien’s antics, I feel guilty.
Guilt along with love is the constant emotion of motherhood. I challenge any mother to try to think of a moment when you do not feel guilty.
I don’t want people to think that motherhood is all bad but I agree with the comments from that show that you have to let go of the woman you were before kids, and not feel guilty about mourning her. Pre-mommy women are amazing and never realize how great they have it. My pre-mommy self will never fully coming back. This is hard for me to admit because I feel guilty for wanting her back. My children should complete me. Well guess what, I didn’t know I was incomplete in the first place.
For myself there is still traces of that fun loving independent woman, she just is a little more patient. Maybe that is the true beauty of being a mother; the life you change is not just your child’s but your own.
So this weekend, while the Caveman chases the Easter Bunny, I will be sharpening my pencils. I will be in a classroom reaching for myself so that I can better reach for my children. And Big Papi had better take a ton of pictures!
This weekend our church is hosting an Easter egg hunt which the Caveman is finally old enough to participate in. I have an algebra test on Saturday during the hunt. I am going to miss the Caveman holding his basket looking for eggs. I feel guilty.
When I was pregnant with the Caveman I was a manager of a Lotion Land working an average of 50 hours a week. I realized that my weekends and holidays would likely be spent in a mall selling lotion to the masses and not at baseball games, birthday parties, and holiday celebrations. I gave up that life because I wanted to be there for those important events in my children’s lives. Never did I imagine that even with this change there would still be certain moments I would miss.
This guilty feeling has me thinking that it is so important not to become so engrossed in the kids’ lives that you lose yourself. I saw this Monday’s Oprah and she was talking to moms. This conversation was different because they really talked about everything it is to be a mommy. The one theme that I realize is motherhood is sacrifice.
One of the members of the mommy panel mentioned that no one told her about the sacrifices you make to be a mommy. I thought that was silly at first because everyone should know the second you get pregnant you are already sacrificing happy hours, coffee, and sushi. Not to mention the actual birth process should be right up there for nomination of a Nobel Prize. I believe if men had to give birth there would be awards or Medals of Honor for surviving. The only Medal of Honor I have is the stretch marks- yeah those aren’t exactly exciting to show off. Or you should earn hazard pay for the amount of body fluids you come into contact with. I never knew how often a nine month old baby could pee.
No those sacrifices and the lack of sleep are to be expected. What I miss when I had children is the ability to leave the house without carrying at least one diaper bag. I long for the ability of being able to go out with my girlfriends without a conference with my husband. I no longer burn candles. I am a regular buyer of chocolate milk. I know all the words to the Elmo potty DVD. No adult should have to watch Elmo repeatedly- and if you do enjoy the Elmo as an adult seriously I believe you need help. The one thing that really annoys me is when I am finally able to sit down and eat my dinner after making sure the Caveman and Alien have had theirs is when the Caveman comes up and asks for a bite. We are trying to break him of this habit but it still involves me stopping my meal to tell him no.
The one thing no one could really prepare me for is the amount of guilt involved with kids. I feel guilty when I punish the Caveman. I feel guilty when I let the Alien cry it out in her crib instead of getting up from my bed. When I send the kids off in the morning with Big Papi to be dropped off at the preschool and sitter’s I feel guilty. When I write this blog and whine about all the little things that someday I’ll look back and wish I could have one more day of the Caveman and Alien’s antics, I feel guilty.
Guilt along with love is the constant emotion of motherhood. I challenge any mother to try to think of a moment when you do not feel guilty.
I don’t want people to think that motherhood is all bad but I agree with the comments from that show that you have to let go of the woman you were before kids, and not feel guilty about mourning her. Pre-mommy women are amazing and never realize how great they have it. My pre-mommy self will never fully coming back. This is hard for me to admit because I feel guilty for wanting her back. My children should complete me. Well guess what, I didn’t know I was incomplete in the first place.
For myself there is still traces of that fun loving independent woman, she just is a little more patient. Maybe that is the true beauty of being a mother; the life you change is not just your child’s but your own.
So this weekend, while the Caveman chases the Easter Bunny, I will be sharpening my pencils. I will be in a classroom reaching for myself so that I can better reach for my children. And Big Papi had better take a ton of pictures!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Scouting Wardrobe Malfunction.
So the other day Big Papi and I were attending the 11:00 church service. The 11:00 church service can be dangerous. The 11:00 service is where they stick all the baptisms and ceremonies so you could be there for hours. Now, I realize that these events are important but this particular Sunday was the morning after Big Papi and I stayed out until 1:00am with the Bugg (who happens to be one of the pastors in this church) and my new friend Brynne (whose husband is working crazy hours at Langley and shares my affection for Williams Sonoma). I know that I didn’t have to stay out until 1:00 am but it was a good time and Six in Phoebus has awesome cocktails and tapas.
Anyway, so Big Papi and I pull into the church parking lot and I notice a large amount of Boy Scouts and their families are heading towards church. Oh no Scouting Day! My church is a site for Boy Scouts Troop 84 and Cub Scouts Pack 184; we also have a Girl Scout troop that uses the facilities as well. This is great, I’m all for the teaching of be prepared and how to eat tree bark. In fact more boys should probably be involved and I even had hopes that the Caveman might want to try scouting so long as I didn’t have to venture into the woods with him. Yes scouting is fun, but then I saw the mothers.
The scouts' moms obviously are very involved with their sons’ activities. That is awesome; but why must they dress like men? Seriously, I’m talking over-sized men’s button down khaki shirts with patches designed to make a woman look fifty pounds overweight. To make it worse these women did not seem to do their hair or attempt to wear at least flattering pants. Most in fact had on the dreaded mom jean, which all mommies should know puts the focus on that mom pooch you get from carrying babies. After checking out the national website I have discovered that they have actual Boy Scout uniforms for women, and while not the best fashion statement they are at least fitted for a woman’s body. So these women willingly made the decision to dress this way.
I feel guilty looking at moms who are involved with their children’s activities, but for God sakes visit a tailor and get the shirts to fit your body. Taking the time to look your best is a good example for your children. I feel this is especially important when your child is receiving an award and you are suppose to stand by him. These boys worked hard to receive the acclamation from their church community. The least these mothers could do was make sure they looked their best for these boys as well.
The problem with moms who don't take care of themselves is that it leads to their lives becoming all about their children. This sounds good in theory but children grow up and no longer need us as much.
When you are on an airplane the flight attendants tell you to put your oxygen mask on first then assist your child. In life we need to do the same thing. My goal as a mom is to be great one but not to lose who I am as well. At some point the Caveman and Alien will grow up. To be the best mommy for them when they reach that milestone I need to know who I am when I am not being their mommy. Being a mom is only one side of me and I refuse to allow my children to take over my whole existence. If I should be so fortunate to have my Caveman or Alien join an organization that requires me to wear a uniform I will have it tailored with my hair done and wearing flattering bottoms and amazing shoes. That way I am still being mommy but remaining true to myself.
Anyway, so Big Papi and I pull into the church parking lot and I notice a large amount of Boy Scouts and their families are heading towards church. Oh no Scouting Day! My church is a site for Boy Scouts Troop 84 and Cub Scouts Pack 184; we also have a Girl Scout troop that uses the facilities as well. This is great, I’m all for the teaching of be prepared and how to eat tree bark. In fact more boys should probably be involved and I even had hopes that the Caveman might want to try scouting so long as I didn’t have to venture into the woods with him. Yes scouting is fun, but then I saw the mothers.
The scouts' moms obviously are very involved with their sons’ activities. That is awesome; but why must they dress like men? Seriously, I’m talking over-sized men’s button down khaki shirts with patches designed to make a woman look fifty pounds overweight. To make it worse these women did not seem to do their hair or attempt to wear at least flattering pants. Most in fact had on the dreaded mom jean, which all mommies should know puts the focus on that mom pooch you get from carrying babies. After checking out the national website I have discovered that they have actual Boy Scout uniforms for women, and while not the best fashion statement they are at least fitted for a woman’s body. So these women willingly made the decision to dress this way.
I feel guilty looking at moms who are involved with their children’s activities, but for God sakes visit a tailor and get the shirts to fit your body. Taking the time to look your best is a good example for your children. I feel this is especially important when your child is receiving an award and you are suppose to stand by him. These boys worked hard to receive the acclamation from their church community. The least these mothers could do was make sure they looked their best for these boys as well.
The problem with moms who don't take care of themselves is that it leads to their lives becoming all about their children. This sounds good in theory but children grow up and no longer need us as much.
When you are on an airplane the flight attendants tell you to put your oxygen mask on first then assist your child. In life we need to do the same thing. My goal as a mom is to be great one but not to lose who I am as well. At some point the Caveman and Alien will grow up. To be the best mommy for them when they reach that milestone I need to know who I am when I am not being their mommy. Being a mom is only one side of me and I refuse to allow my children to take over my whole existence. If I should be so fortunate to have my Caveman or Alien join an organization that requires me to wear a uniform I will have it tailored with my hair done and wearing flattering bottoms and amazing shoes. That way I am still being mommy but remaining true to myself.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
This holiday season has been an exciting one for the Alien and Caveman filled household. Well the Alien not so much because she is really a baby and doesn’t know what is going on. The Caveman, however, discovered the following this season:
1. The Pretties- I think this started at his preschool when they hung Christmas lights (he attends a Christian preschool which allows for said activities). Since every time he sees Christmas lights the following conversation has happened: “Oh mommy look! The pretties! I love the pretties! I love my pretties!” Then he adds, “I see blue, I see pink, I see green, I see red.” Even if you do not celebrate Christmas the lights are an ideal way to help your caveman learn colors. Also it reminded me that when the lights go on the houses the world seems brighter even in our darkest days. There is something magical in the power of the “pretties.”
2. Christmas equals mommy bakes- Yes I love to bake but the only time of year I get to do it properly is around the holidays. People never want homemade chocolate chip cookies in August because we are all still trying to look awesome in bathing suits. The Caveman not only experienced mommy’s amazing chocolate chip cookies but also the grasshopper bars (really the best thing you could put in your mouth) and the five-minute fudge. The one thing I wish I had the time to do this holiday was to make rice crispy treats with the Caveman. I want him to know the power that comes from understanding how with a few ingredients and a little time, love and patience you can create something amazing that can be shared. Think if more little boys were taught those things when they were cavemen how different the world would be.
3. Santa is not awesome- I am sure this will change but the picture says it all.
1. The Pretties- I think this started at his preschool when they hung Christmas lights (he attends a Christian preschool which allows for said activities). Since every time he sees Christmas lights the following conversation has happened: “Oh mommy look! The pretties! I love the pretties! I love my pretties!” Then he adds, “I see blue, I see pink, I see green, I see red.” Even if you do not celebrate Christmas the lights are an ideal way to help your caveman learn colors. Also it reminded me that when the lights go on the houses the world seems brighter even in our darkest days. There is something magical in the power of the “pretties.”
2. Christmas equals mommy bakes- Yes I love to bake but the only time of year I get to do it properly is around the holidays. People never want homemade chocolate chip cookies in August because we are all still trying to look awesome in bathing suits. The Caveman not only experienced mommy’s amazing chocolate chip cookies but also the grasshopper bars (really the best thing you could put in your mouth) and the five-minute fudge. The one thing I wish I had the time to do this holiday was to make rice crispy treats with the Caveman. I want him to know the power that comes from understanding how with a few ingredients and a little time, love and patience you can create something amazing that can be shared. Think if more little boys were taught those things when they were cavemen how different the world would be.
3. Santa is not awesome- I am sure this will change but the picture says it all.
4. Church is fun during Christmas- Being new to a church a great way to get involved is to participate in the services and activities. My church exploded with activities from the Hanging of the Greens (a fancy way of saying decorating the church) to Santa’s house (we did not participate in this particular event because of said outing to the mall Santa above). My favorite holiday is the one hosted by Pastor Bugg (that is his real name I promise) in which grown up gets to drink and be merry. The Caveman and Alien will be safely at their non-crazy grandma’s (Big Papi’s mom).
The holidays have been quick this year- and way lower keyed than in the past for myself. I only entered a mall once and it was to visit Santa on a Tuesday and it was like a ghost town. I realize that this is the effect of the economic slowdown affecting our country but I still think it is a good thing for the most part. One of my favorite Christmas songs is “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” and it reminds me that this time of year is really about the people you surround yourself with not the things you buy. It is also a time of year to be reminded that miracles happen even if it is as simple as watching my two-year old look in amazement every time he happened to see Christmas lights twinkling, burning bright into the dark sky.
The holidays have been quick this year- and way lower keyed than in the past for myself. I only entered a mall once and it was to visit Santa on a Tuesday and it was like a ghost town. I realize that this is the effect of the economic slowdown affecting our country but I still think it is a good thing for the most part. One of my favorite Christmas songs is “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” and it reminds me that this time of year is really about the people you surround yourself with not the things you buy. It is also a time of year to be reminded that miracles happen even if it is as simple as watching my two-year old look in amazement every time he happened to see Christmas lights twinkling, burning bright into the dark sky.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)