5 Friday Favorites: September 6, 2024

 

It's time for my Friday link up with  A Little Bit of Everything and Momfessionals. 

On Fridays I share things that made me happy from the week - a photo, a song, a quote, a beauty product, a recipe, a pair of cute shoes, etc. If it's a product, sometimes it's something I actually own and sometimes something I just saw online that gave me a smile. Sometimes it's serious and sometimes it's silly. I suppose I believe that God is in the simple details of life and yes, I can even find Him in a tube of lipstick.

Happy Friday! Steve has been away on business all week so I feel like I've spent a lot of time telling my dog my deep thoughts. He is about as interested as Steve is in my musings, which is to say, not so much.

Kidding. Kinda.

Although, I've missed my husband, it has been the most beautiful week here. We didn't get past 85 degrees. The sky was blue and the sun was bright every day. The week started off beautifully with College Game Day on TV at the lake house. That meant I resumed my regularly scheduled Saturday morning position for the fall:

And the Longhorns won 52-0. September is my jam. Here are some other favorite things from the week.

1. Bananagrams Game

We spent Labor Day weekend at Lake Anna and played Bananagrams one night which I had never played before. It was so much fun. I love playing games and am constantly on a quest to get my family to play with me. This is how I approach pretty much every single game I play:

I can't imagine why it's hard to get anyone to play with me. In any event, Drew and some of his teammates from school came for the weekend and somehow we convinced the boys to play. One of Drew's buddies pretty much smoked us all every time. I made him sleep outside.

2. That Sounds Fun Podcast on Learning to Unplug

Well, this podcast episode featuring Annie F. Downs and Hannah Brencher may have been one of the most enlightening and important conversations I've listened to in a long while. "Unplugging" from all the info, news, email, text and social media noise is such a simple concept. It's super easy to want to do that and also to feel shame around how addicted to our devices many of us find ourselves. It's less easy to unplug in a practical way since most of us can't reasonably hope to sustain our work and relationships without some time spent on our phones or computers. This conversation didn't set out to shame anyone nor did it get too deep into doom and gloom about how we've all gone off the rails with technology. It acknowledged that most of us can't logically throw our phones in the trash and go back to 1995 no matter how much we'd like to, while offering practical advice and most of all, hope. I'm planning to pre-order Hannah Brencher's book, The Unplugged Hours: Cultivating a Life of Presence in a Digitally Connected World, which comes out on September 17th.

3. Banana Pudding

Since I hadn't seen my little boy in almost nine whole days when he and his teammates showed up at Lake Anna for Labor Day weekend, I had to be sure I had one of his favorite desserts for him. My mom used to make Banana Pudding for the kids all the time and it's definitely a win in our house. It's super simple and the college boys demolished it.

2 boxes (3 oz) instant vanilla pudding

3 cups whole milk

1 can sweetened condensed milk

8 oz. cream cheese, softened

1 8 oz. container Cool Whip

2 bananas, sliced

1 box Vanilla wafers

Whisk together pudding mix and milk for 2 minutes. Fold in Cool Whip. In a separate bowl mix cream cheese and sweetened condensed milk. Fold into pudding mixture and mix well. Line bottom of large bowl with vanilla wafers. Pour 1/2 of pudding mix on top. Top with more vanilla wafers and banana slices. Pour remaning 1/2 of pudding on top. Add more vanilla wafers to the top and refrigerate until cold.

4. Airpods Case

In a tragedy that no one saw coming, my airpods case tore. Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers. I am trying to be strong about it. I ordered this one. It's cute. It comes in some other colors and styles I really like including a blingy pink one and a floral print one. 

5. Where else would we go?

While the week started off with fun and family and football, the end of week brought terrible news - not that there's not always terrible news, but this week's really got me. I don't write about current events in this space unless you count what's trending on Netflix. I figure opinions and political discourse are pretty readily available online and my voice doesn't need to be added in. There are people smarter than me and more informed than me that are well equipped to offer insight on the deeply difficult issues our world faces.

I will say that this week's news hit me particularly hard. I was heartbroken and angered by the murder of  Hersh Goldberg-Polin who is the exact age of my son, Kyle. And then came the news of the shooting in a school in Georgia. Certainly, there are tragedies that happen every single day that could send me into despair and rage. When it happens, like it did this week, I hesitate to write anything. So, for today, I am re-posting a piece I wrote in May of 2022 after the  school shooting in Uvalde, Texas brought me to my knees. Watching Hersh's mother speak brought me the same emotions - mostly anger - again. When I feel like this, I am always searching for some answer. There are answers we will never get. The only thing for me to do is turn to God. There simply is no where else to go.

Orginially published May 27, 2022

For over ten years I've been writing in this space. About my family. About parenting. About the Texas Longhorns and the Freedom Eagles and the Loudoun South AllStars. About skin care products and a cute pair of shoes I saw. But mostly, at least in some small way, I've written openly about my faith. Whether directly by citing Scripture or just by sneaking "a little Jesus" in here or there, I've always felt a calling to share that although I've had great loves in my life - my parents and brother and sister, my husband and my three little boys - Jesus Christ has always been the greatest, most enduring, most trustworthy love of my life. 

Lately, due to other writing and speaking projects and life in general (plus the fact that blogs seem to be "so 2010"), I just stop in here on Fridays with some favorites of the week. Most of the time, Jesus shows up in those Five Favorites in one way or another. I've missed some weeks for sure, but I try to be consistent - mostly for me and also for the odd reader or two that lets me know they appreciate my showing up here.

This week, as it has at other times over the years, writing about my favorite things seems selfish. It seems frivolous and tone deaf. Today it seems practically impossible. 

But I am drawn to this keyboard. I can't seem to stay away. So I find myself here in the dark early hours of a Friday morning with the glow of the computer lighting my desk and a cursor blinking at me. And I'm wondering if I will even post these words at all. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. It is the way I speak to God. It is often the way He speaks to me and maybe, sometimes, I think, through me. But the words I've been saying to the Lord in the past few days aren't necessarily the sweetest. They might not be appropriate for public consumption. Because this faith of mine? This God of mine? We're on some shaky ground right now. 

There are so many words out there about what happened in Texas this week. So many voices. I don't think it necessary or helpful for mine to be added to them. So, if I share, I'll be sharing what's been going on with the Lord of the Universe and me in the aftermath. These words will not be funny. Or sweet. Or charming. They might be offensive. But they're honest. 

Maybe cursing at God is not what you showed up for here. I get it. I'd much rather write about the mascara I bought last week or the baseball victory we had or the laughter that happened on Tuesday evening when all three of my boys were home to sit around the dinner table together. It so happened that on that same Tuesday evening a bunch of parents in Texas found themselves with empty tables, empty bedrooms, empty arms. 

Just last weekend, I was the guest speaker at a local church. I delivered the message to a congregation that included two of my boys. When my boys are listening, I am more nervous and more prayerful that I'll get the message God has given me right. This was a message I believed so deeply in that my voice shook with conviction at the end and my eyes filled with tears in the final prayer. I reminded the congregants that God sees them. I reminded them that God has a plan for them . . .that not one of God's people is invisible. Not one is forgotten. Not one is alone. To close, I looked directly at my children imagining the Lord looking at them as He does at every single child in the Universe and said, "He sees you. He is your biggest fan. He will never ever look away. Please, please don't forget it."

And then Tuesday night I crawled into bed next to my husband. In the dark, with tears rolling down my face and anger consuming my words, I spat out, "Everything I said feels like BS right now. Everything I said feels foolish. Everything I said feels empty. How are the boys supposed to believe a word of it? How are they to believe in a God who sees?"  On a personal - perhaps selfish - level, I felt ashamed and embarrassed and so violently angry I could barely see straight. The truth was that I felt betrayed by the God who I've been pointing people to for years and years. Where was the promise to not look away? Where was my God on Tuesday afternoon in Uvalde, Texas? Where the hell was He?

I would like to tell you that my anger dissipated over night. But the next morning I scowled at the cross at the top of my church building even as I walked dutifully into my Wednesday morning Bible Study. I sat with my beloved group members. And I listened. And I shared. And they listened. And they shared. And they didn't judge me for my anger. Each one that spoke was trying as gently as she or he could to brush away the weeds and thorns that threatened to strangle my faith. Each reminded me in calm assurance that the message God had laid on my heart on Sunday was not a mistake. 

I left Bible Study to go to the outlet mall because I am nothing if not a gal who will fill up her God-sized hole with some discounted designer shoes. As I walked to my car with a couple of shopping bags that shockingly had not eased my anger, a pastor and mentor of mine called me. His wife had been in our morning study and had told him that I was struggling. I sat on a bench outside the JCrew Factory store as he listened to me and I listened to him. He reminded me in the most measured and confident way that my message on Sunday was right and it was true. He also said something along the lines of "if we aren't cursing at God at times then we're probably not paying attention and we're probably not being honest." 

As the day wore on my anger began to lighten. A little. A very, very little. As I drove home a story from the Old Testament came to mind. It was the story of Moses, Aaron and Hur from Exodus 17. When Moses tells Joshua that he must take his men out to fight the Amalekites, he assures him that he will stand on the hill to watch. Throughout the battle every time Moses has his arms raised, Joshua and the Israelites are winning, but when he gets tired and his arms fall, the Amalekites start winning. Eventually, Aaron and Hur provide a stone for Moses to rest on. They each hold his arms up - one on one side and one on the other. Soon enough, Joshua and the Israelites are the victors. 

That is exactly what my sweet friends did for me on Wednesday. They held up my arms. With open ears and tender eyes and calming words and "I've been there, too" nods and reassuring phone calls they held up my arms. 

So this morning, I'm reminded again that the Lord is patient. He will wait for our return. And when one believer's faith wavers, perhaps the best thing we can do is to lean heavily on someone else's faith. 

To be sure, whatever short-lived crisis of faith I might have encountered this week is nothing compared to the months and months, if not possible years, of the potential loss of faith of one who lost a child or a parent or a spouse on Tuesday. There is no comparison. Also, I understand that every single day across the world there are atrocities and tragedies that could compel any one of us to question the existence of a good and loving God. This is just my experience in the last few days. It's the only experience I have. The only one I have to share.

In the last 24 hours, as my stone cold heart softens bit by bit, I am slowly, but surely, lifting my eyes to Him again. And while I understand the idea that thoughts and prayers are not enough to take away the pain of our hurting country right now, I know that I will be taking a place on either side of the broken to help hold their arms up whether they know it or not. 

The reason I know this? Because in addition to the story from Exodus, the words that Peter asks Jesus in John 6:68 keep playing on a constant loop in my muddled-up mind. After many of His followers abandoned him, Jesus turned to His twelve disciples and asked if they might also like to leave.

Peter responds, "Lord, to whom would we go?" 

This morning, after a few days of turning away from the Lord . . . after a few days of my arms growing weary and defeated . . . after a few days of being held up by a community of loving, gracious, kind believers . . . after a few hours of tapping out words in the darkness, I find myself crawling back. I find myself noticing once again that there is a light in the darkness. I find myself knowing in the deepest part of me exactly Who it is that holds the light - the One who has always held the light. In the end, as I await the sunrise, I find myself answering all of my questions with another question.

O Lord. Where else would I go?

Have a blessed weekend, Friends.

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