He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed!

Have I mentioned on here before that I love Jesus? No, like really, I LOVE him--want to wrap my arms around Him, press my cheek against his chest, and squeeze as hard as I can--kind of love Him?

At church this past Sunday, our choir did a song sequence with a video playing behind them. I personally do not tend to get overly excited about the audio-visual aids and "tracts" at church--leaning more towards the the traditional. Has anybody else noticed that I was, perhaps, born in the wrong time period :)? But anyway, our choir performed BEAUTIFULLY on Easter. They were filled with joy and passion...you could tell that the words they were singing were resounding in their hearts. But then, there was this video, with little clips of Jesus walking through the streets, greeting the Marys or talking and laughing with his disciples, and I don't know who this actor was, but he captured who I believe Jesus is more than any other movie or picture or painting I've ever seen. I had to fight tears every time his face came on the screen. I think it was because he was not stoic, and looking off into the heavens, or staring off in the distance like He is trying to bear the cursed sin he's surrounded by. I just don't think Jesus was like that. He "got us"--we humans--got us enough that he willingly DIED for us. Died because he wanted us to come back to His house for the rest of eternity. With a love like that, if you met Him on the road, do you think he would smile sweetly, nod in your direction, and then open his downstretched arms--like "Believe it or not, I accept you." That's what most Jesus pictures look like to me. But I don't think he was like that. I think if (WHEN) I meet him on the road one day, He's going to throw his arms open so wide that they're going to stretch slightly above his head, he's going to break into a huge grin and we're both going to run so hard into each other's arms that the collision would knock us out if we didn't both have our immortal bodies. He's going to smell like sunshine, and he is going to be solid and real and loving and laughing. Lots of laughing, because that's what you do when you finally see somebody you love that you've been missing dreadfully. I can't wait to see his face...Can you?

One more thing about the choir on Sunday. There was this one man who--like all the choir, including me, in the past-- was looking the part of the serious, worshipful Christian up there in the choir loft. Then, they reached a particularly powerful chorus, and I saw him throw his head back, close his eyes, and open his mouth wide. He forgot himself, was just letting it out, and I wanted to cheer because I was feeling the same way. Looking at the "real" Jesus up there on the screen, I felt like my joy was swelling so big in my chest that I could have clambered up some invisible curtains, all the way into God's presence. So there we are, me and the man from the choir, ready to head on up, when suddenly, he remembered. He remembered he was in front of the whole congregation in church and not standing in the midst of a heavenly host with Jesus standing right in front of him receiving his praises. His head snapped forward, his eyes opened and his whole head turned cherry red. It made me sad, but I understood. Even in my quiet little pew where nobody could see anything but the back of my head, I was embarrassed to let so much as a tear fall--much less raise my hands in the air and squeal at the top of my lungs like I wanted to. Aren't you ready for heaven? When these stupid worldly insecurities will melt away and we'll be able to praise him, all together, just like our hearts are longing to know how to do properly now? I am.

Can I just note, in all my worldliness--like any of you noticed or cared, that Mary Aplin outgrew her Sunday shoes when she woke up on Easter Sunday. Fit just fine last week, but that morning, when I put on the sweet little dresses with all their months of smocking and (Grandma) putting them together, those darned shoes wouldn't even go halfway on her foot. So there she is, in the pink squeaky shoes that I COULD shove on to that fat little foot.

Pace's Definition of a Sinner

Today at lunch, Pace looked at my hot dog and said, "Mommy, it looks like you have Jesus' blood on your hot dog."

Me: No Pace, it's just ketchup. (I'm assuming they must have talked a lot about Jesus' blood in Sunday school yesterday...I hope :))

Pace: Will you read me the story about Jesus blood spilling everywhere in your Bible.

Me: You mean about Jesus dying on the cross?

Pace: Is that when he bled?

Me: Yes (Why is so obsessed with the blood?!)

I went on to read/explain the story. Crucifixion, Resurrection. I even added a little extra gore and sound effects just for her. Afterwards, I told her about how she had to ask Jesus to live in her heart if she wanted to go see Him in heaven one day, to which she said, "Is He just going to run in there?" (she begins pointing at her chest)

Me: Something like that.

Pace: Won't he be sad all stuck in there?

Me: No, it would actually make him really happy to live in there all cozy. But Pace, before He can come live in there, you have to understand that you are a sinner.

Pace: What's a sinner?

Me: Being a sinner means that sometimes, even though we might not want to, we do things that are bad or mean.

Pace: I don't. (Cocky little thing)

Me: What about pushing your sister down, or being selfish, or hurting people's feelings, or not obeying what I tell you to do? Don't you sometimes do things like that?

Pace: Yeah. (She looks really dejected, so I add)

Me: But Pace, I'm a sinner too.

Pace: You are??!! What do you do?

Me: Well don't I sometimes hurt your feelings, or get madder than I should? (She's really thinking now...and finally responds--)

Pace: Sometimes, people spank you, and you get a raw hiney-butt, and THAT'S what a sinner is.

And I can tell she is no longer surprised at MY need for Jesus :)

Go Ahead, SAY It

I have, what Jeremiah has so lovingly named, "Flappy Mouth Syndrome." This means that I often make people uncomfortable by the words I say. Some more widely-heard phrases used for this malady, at least in the South, are "She just CANNOT keep her mouth shut" or "That girl doesn't think before she speaks." I don't know if any of you suffer from this as well, but I am guessing that if you have a blog (that you write on), then there is a pretty good chance that you do. I know that I personally find something refreshing in knowing that this is one place where nobody is allowed to tell me I "should keep my opinions to myself." (there's another phrase!) However, you will still point out, I am sure, that I have had to retract quite a few blogs...and I have no rebuttal to that point :)

Want my opinion? (Know what, I don't care if you do or not cause you're getting it anyway :)), I don't have an issue with "thinking before I speak" as much as I have an issue with assuming my own personality on others. If you aren't thinking before you speak, then you say things like, "Oh!! When are you due?!" to women you don't know who may or may not be pregnant. While I am not saying I have never done that, it is not my primary issue. My issue is saying, to the person I only see at church and weddings, "Sooo, how are you and your girlfriend doing??" Only to be answered, "Actually, we aren't seeing each other any more." Then, here it comes, where Jeremiah starts to squeeze my arm and I am unaffected, "NO! What happened?" The problem here, is that if it were me, I would want you to ask. I would consider it a kindness that you care enough about what is going on in my life, to wonder at the source of my heartache. What I have found out the hard way is that MANY (if not most) people find this intrusive and impertinent. They consider things like that "private business." Well, you can well read that I don't consider very many things in my own life private. So here is an apology, to all of you out there I have offended, "I am sorry that I assumed my own personality on you and have pryed into your affairs. I didn't mean to assume that I deserved to know. I didn't have malicious intent to find out so that I could gossip (which I think is what most probably feel). I was just curious and would not have minded if I'd been asked myself."

There. With that settled, I would also like to say that there are some circumstances where I think we all need to take our filters and throw them to the fiery abyss. I do not recommend you do this with those "church and wedding only" friends, but in the case of your spouse (when you're not mad at them :)). I find that throughout the day, I have sweet thoughts about my husband, and my normal response is to either let it pass in and out of my brain and maybe smile to myself, but no more than that. Or I say, "I will have to remember to tell him that when he gets home." Either way, he never hears it. Even sometimes when I'm with him and have one of those sweet thoughts, I am either too lazy to voice it (sounds absurd to be lazy to TALK, but it's true), or (and this one is a little harder to grasp/admit) I am too prideful to say it. It's like I still, from time to time, think I should withhold praise from my own husband because I don't want to stroke his ego. Does he have a big ego? Is that really the issue? Nope. The heart of that one, is that I'm feeling insecure and can't see how making him feel better about himself is going to help me one bit. And what's the source of that? PRIDE!

So what I'm saying is, TELL YOUR SPOUSE THOSE SWEET LITTLE NOTHINGS, and tell them (via text, email, or phone--It's not like any of us have the excuse of not being able to get in touch) as soon as the thought enters your mind. Throw that filter away! Ignore your laziness and your pride, because the fact is that making someone feel good about themselves is cyclical. Don't you know that feeling? Somebody makes you feel good and suddenly you want to do the same for them.

Now, you are probably wondering where all of this came from, and why I have been using my caps lock button so much :) It's because I feel like Jeremiah and I are finally starting to do this (starting I say, not that we have it down). I feel like throughout our marriage I've been saying, "I just need you to do the little things to let me know that you love me." To which my dumbfounded husband has said, "I thought I was, and if I'm not, you're going to have to give me some examples." To which I then answered, "If I have to tell you, then you must not be feeling the same things I am!" Then, you can see where that left us...Both frustrated, me prideful and refusing to make him feel any better about himself, and stuck.

Over the past months, I've been trying to put my finger on why things just felt so much better between us, and I think it's partly because we have both started removing our filters with each other. Night before last, at dinner, I was rattling off all the boring little particulars of my day at home with the girls, when Jeremiah interrupted me mid-sentence and said, "I love you." Looked me dead in the eye and everything! It's not that he doesn't tell me that he loves me enough, it was the timing that made this statement one of the "little things" I'd been asking for. The timing and sincerity of the words that hit home and made me know how truly he felt the words he spoke. I can't tell you how many times I played that over in my mind throughout the next day and smiled. And because I was loving him so much for making me feel loved (did that make sense?), I've wanted to make sure he knew all the little things I was thinking as well---But if it's OK with you all, I'm going to filter those :) So throw those filters away when it comes to your husband, but maybe try to perfect them with your other friends.

Log Cabins, Beaches, and Monsoons

I feel bad...I was just getting back to my regular blogging, when I decided to take off again. I started to tell you before I left, but something feels dangerous about announcing on the world wide web that you, Jeremiah and Abby Maddox of Birmingham (why don't you just go on to whitepages.com and get our address), will be leaving a vacant house for the week. Any takers??? Not that we have a whole lot to steal,
but still. Jeremiah went to Montana with his Dad and brother, to learn how to build log homes. Not one to sit at home and sulk, I packed the girls up and we headed to the beach. Thankfully, Dad has a beautiful little place he lets me stay in for free, so that we could indulge in this luxury.

We had a few days of this beautiful weather, a COOL 70 (with those breezes off the ocean) but it didn't keep us from getting out there in our swimsuits and my tough children even braved the water. I did manage to spend a couple of afternoons in the pool (which was either heated or very easily sun-warmed), so that the girls could really practice their swimming (Mary Aplin with swimmies. Don't get too excited.).

Then, the weather got a little chillier and we had to resort to light jackets at sunset, but we were still happy.

Pace still asked me every night at bedtime if we could stay at the beach forever. The girls were tuckered by the close of each day, so I was putting them to bed early and watching girley movies or reading my book. There is something a little sick about the fact that I literally SQUEALED with delight one night because it was only 8:30, and I was already nestling in my bed, in a quiet clean house, with the ocean rolling outside my window, and my little book in my hand. Oh the simple joys!I think part of that joy was that I was no longer having to deal with the little devil on the left. The one who has NO FEAR and runs straight into the red flagged ocean, laughing all the way. Or straight off the side of the pool, without caring if I am looking or not.Does this swimsuit just make anybody else laugh? Something about the fact that the only other red, white, and blue swimsuits I've ever seen are cut into tiny triangles with big boobies behind them :) You can see, Dapples wasn't so happy about the suit either--serves her right after all that trouble she'd been giving me.It got colder and cloudier as the week went on. We tried hard to fight it. The girls just played in the sand with their clothes on, but once the torrential downpours had set in for a solid 24 hours, we gave up the ghost, and went back to Dothan Thursday evening.Caroline and Kendall came to Dothan for the weekend, and we had a really fun time riding out the storms together. On Saturday, we all stayed in our PJs until the late afternoon, ate more doughnuts than I would care to admit and watched a movie while stinkers were napping (Can you tell I had the girls by myself for a week? I feel like I've called them stinkers or rats this whole blog :)) The rain let off late afternoon, so we went to the mall and did a little shopping, and then my grandparents came over and kept the girls so that Dad could take us all out for dinner and a movie (we missed you Taylor!!!) Talk about your banner days!


I want to add here, that you know you've got a good Dad when, you're running late for your movie, with no time to get that buttered popcorn and Diet Coke you crave (and REALLY needed after all those doughnuts from earlier), and suddenly he disappears from the theatre. Only to emerge moments later with both items in his hands. Didn't even have to ask, he just knows us!


I'll end with these sweet profile shots of the girls, and the note that Jeremiah did indeed graduate from log home school. He has asked, in all seriousness, that I frame his diploma so that we can hang it along with his MD. He may jump off roofs and build log cabins, but we sure did miss him this week.

Little Less Talk, and a Lot More Pictures

I have been spending every free moment for the past week, working on that little jumper, and I am still not finished. I think that my grandmother could have made an entire wedding dress in the same amount of hours it has taken me to construct the "simple" (as the mean Frannie Baby pattern keeps pointing out to me) jumper. In my defense, I have never made corded piping or done a full liner in a dress, and all my pattern said was, "attach corded piping." Oh, OK! I thought. Thanks for all the stinkin' help! I proceeded to watch You-Tube videos and read other advice on about.com (can you believe You-Tube even has sewing videos??), made tons of errors (with the lining more than the piping) and have ripped out a lot of seams. I feel like I've grown quite proficient at seam ripping :)


On to a slightly greater success story...I started these little numbers almost a year ago, and I have JUST finished them/taken them to get monogrammed. Pace's is going to be more like a shirt than a dress by this point :) In order to sew (without a sewing room), I either have to let the house go, make a big mess, and just do it OR leave it all down in the basement until the urge takes me again. Obviously, the urge hasn't taken me in a while, but since it did and since I had to go pick these finally finished dresses up in Homewood...
We decided to make a little trip to Homewood park! This child will not, under any circumstance, keep her left shoe on her foot, but look at what a little gymnast she is.

And this one too.

Look who else came with us to the park--Aunt Caroline! She really was a sweet sister to come spend the morning playing with us. Especially since she and Dad took the girls to the zoo for half the day yesterday to let me have some alone time (and some time with that wretched sewing machine). THANK YOU!!!!! Does anybody else do this? Kill two birds with one stone by putting BOTH of your children in the same baby swing? It sure is a lot easier than trying to push two different swings, and they love it (even though it's not looking like it in this picture). After play time, it was off for Friday's Special at Tazikis. If you haven't partaken, then you are sadly missing out. They really do ONLY serve it on Fridays though. Don't go in on Thursday thinking you're going to weasel it out of them--I've tried :)

Dapples and her grilled cheese.

Just in case any of you were getting ready to post an "aren't you a good, crafty mom" comment, I'd like to leave you with this.

Ummm, yep. Those are BREAKFAST dishes still on our table at 2:30 this afternoon. Congealed oatmeal in the bowl and all. Not one bed is made, and I just remembered that I forgot to feed Locks this morning. ARGHHH!!

If Publix Can Do It...

I did not find out about the "Cookie Club" at grocery stores until after Mary Aplin was born. I am guessing you all know, but just in case you don't, at Publix, Walmart, and Sams (maybe others but these are the ones we frequent) you can walk up to the bakery and ask for a "kid's cookie" for however many youngins you are totin' in the buggy, and they'll give it to them. Glory of glories! Now, at first I thought this was the coolest thing since sliced bread--a way to distract my girls while I filled my cart--but after some experience with the cookie club, I've also found that it is a pretty good marketing strategy. Pace may GET a sugar cookie with colorful sprinkles but what she's BEGGING for are the big doozies (I don't know if that's a universal name, but that is what I've always called the cookie sandwich that has icing oozing out of the center) staring at her through the glass case. She just can't understand why they never hand her one of those. And honestly, I can't say that I blame her, because I've started craving them myself...knowing that I can never break down and buy one unless I plan on appeasing her from here on out. So, I decided to make them. Even dip half in chocolate like they do at Publix. It was simple and oh so delicious, and I just wanted to pass the idea along in case any of you other Moms are suffering from the cookie club marketing plan. It seems kinda silly to spell it all out, but here goes:

You'll need: Mini Chocolate chip cookies from the fridge section--always slightly undercooked. A tub of white icing, and Candiquick microwaveable chocolate tray (if you're like me and bought too many of these at V-Day for your marshmallows, then you're in business).

I think the rest is self-explanatory, but a couple words of advice on the icing. A) Don't get over-excited and try to ice the cookies while they are still hot, 'cause the icing will melt everywhere. B) Remember the joy of Double-stuff Oreos and don't skimp on the icing. Keep in mind this technically has to be enough icing for TWO cookies.

While I'm at it, I think I'll tell you about the other half of the lunch that I made to go with these cookies on Saturday. I have a sandwich that I've been perfecting, and I think I may just have it down (unfortunately I did not get it all figured out before my guests came on Saturday, but such is life). It's a roll-up, so here's what you'll need:

One packet of ranch seasoning
8oz. cream cheese
1/2 small container of sour cream
One package of flour tortillas
Thin deli-sliced turkey and ham
Thin deli-sliced provolone cheese
Shredded lettuce
Guacamole (Recipe to follow)

Mix first three ingredients together and use as a spread. Layer turkey and ham, then spread ranch mix across top of meat and cover with cheese. Place sandwich under broiler to warm (which also melts the cheese and ranch mixture together to form something fabulous). Cover with lots of lettuce (so it will taste like you're eating a yummy salad instead of a fattening sandwich) and then dob large amounts of guacamole down the center. Roll, cut in half, and serve.
Now the guacamole. I'm just going to be honest, I LOVE my guacamole. I have been perfecting it much longer than the roll-up (for a while I was just putting sliced avocado and tomato on the sandwich--such a mistake!), but it really is an individual art. What I crave in my guac may be quite different from what you crave, but here's what I do.

Ingredients:
5 or 6 ripe avocados (Not the big giant ones, the normal size ones. And they need to squish a bit to your touch when you pick them out at the grocery store. If they are hard, you will be sorely disappointed. But don't go buying rottenly soft ones either. I would also recommend--I am so thrifty--calling your local grocers to find out what the price is that day. These boogers are expensive and this weekend they were "on sale" at Publix 2/$3 and on sale at Walmart for $0.78 That was a difference in me spending $12 and $6, and that is a whole fun meal at McDonalds!)
3 or 4 Roma tomatoes
1/2 of a yellow onion
3 limes
1 handful of fresh cilantro (stems and all. I love this stuff, but Jeremiah says it tastes like dishwashing liquid if I use too much, so be warned.)
3 or 4 heaping tablespoons of diced (pickled) jalapenos
Salt and Pepper to taste

In a food processor, combine the onion, cilantro and the juice of one lime--puree (I like the taste of onion, but I HATE a big chunk of raw onion in my mouth in a dip. That is why we food process.) Peel and take the seed out of your avocados, placing the "meat" in a big bowl. Dump the onion mixture into the avocados and mash (I use a potato masher.) Don't over-mash because you want to leave chunks of avocado in your dip to be sure that everyone realizes it is homemade :) Chop the tomatoes and spoon in, along with the juice from your other two limes, the jalapenos, and the salt and pepper. It is DELICIOUS and fresh and beautiful with its bright reds and greens. Be sure to serve it as an appetizer with chips before your divvy out the roll-ups :)

Heart Update

Have you ever noticed that when God decides to teach you something, it comes up EVERYWHERE? Suddenly each Sunday school lesson and sermon comes back to that same "nagging" lesson you've been reading in your morning devotion. Then your friend across the street brings it up; even that movie you're watching has some comment about it, and before long you throw up your hands and say, "Alright Lord I'm listening. This is you talking; I get it!" Maybe it's just me and my stubbornness that keeps wondering if I'm hearing God or just my own thoughts, and so He has to use numerous methods before I wise up, but anyway, I thought I might share with you the couple of things He's been teaching me over the past weeks.

First is community. What it is. What that means, and why I should stop being so selfish and embrace it. In all honesty (it is oh so disgusting to admit), I shy away from "community". As soon as somebody starts talking about "showing love to our community" and "the fellowship of believers," all I can think about is how many casseroles I need to make and who all has had babies that I STILL have not taken a meal to. Then, my mind jumps to the people who have loved me that I still have not written a thank you note to. There it is, in all its ugliness, I am selfish and have been thinking that I was not a big fan of "community"--because in some sense community was tied up in work and guilt.

No sooner had I admitted these ugly sentiments to my husband (who is always wanting to expand and embrace our community, and who looked at me like I was a monster that he didn't even know when I admitted that stuff to him) than the Lord started land-blasting me. I have shed tears two Sundays in a row over the powerful ways God has used our church community to minister to me specifically. When all of that stuff was going on with Mom, the way my parents' friends and church reached out and loved our family was nothing short of miraculous. It was (and still is) incomprehensible to me--the way there were always people bringing food and performing the little tasks that just needed to get done and even just standing in our front yard to pray...

So, I had been in Dothan, living with Mom through the hell that was her last weeks of life, and being sustained (literally) by the community there. Then, I had to make a trip back to Birmingham because both of the girls had doctors appointments. I was only going to be here a day, but I woke up that morning to the sound of raking in my yard. I looked out the window to see Cohen Ezelle, who had left his wife at home to care for their three small children, while he spent the day raking the leaves in our yard that had grown knee-deep. Now, Cohen and Amie are some friends from our Sunday school class (who are also now missionaries in Belize), who we had grown to love over the years, but we'd never even "hung out" outside of church activities. He just found out where we lived, drove over to our house and thought, "What can I do to serve this family and show them God's care?" I suddenly understood why my Dad kept saying he "felt humbled" by all the things people were doing for us back home. Seeing Cohen out there with a rake in his hands, doing a thankless job that he (assuming we were still in Dothan) never even planned on us knowing he did, and knowing that my Creator had taken the time to prompt his heart to just DO something for us in the little sphere that we now called our own, touched me profoundly. I don't know that I even felt all of that then, as overwhelmed as I was by Mom's sickness, but last Sunday as I sat in church listening to a sermon on "community," all of that was laid clearly before my eyes. What I realized was that community is not about feeling guilty about every person in your church or neighborhood who might need a casserole that you have not come through for. It's about listening to the promptings that God lays on your heart for specific people, and ACTING on those burdens. It might be just to pray for them and love them from a distance, or it might be something that feels ridiculous, like showing up to rake their yard, but the fact is that God uses us as His ambassadors, to be tangible evidence of the love He's pouring out from above. What an honor that is! And what a pity that I shy away from it, because I think I am too busy. (There are many other examples of ways that friends loved us--or me--specifically during that time, and God has been pouring each one back over my head lately. I just listed the first that came to mind.)

The second lesson (and I'll try to keep it quick because this has already gotten really long) is a true thankfulness for my afflictions. This feels sort of weird to say, but my heart has realized that BECAUSE God loves me, He has allowed hardships into my life, in order that my relationship with him might take on a greater sweetness and sincerity. I've written about this before (shows you how long God has been teaching me this one), but it just keeps coming back. The writer of Hebrews (12:7) says, "Endure hardship as a discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons."

After going through something really hard (which I know that losing your Mom is nothing compared to what MANY suffer), I find that all Scripture is tinged with more meaning, that God is more real in my life, and that I relate to others in a more intimate way than I did before. To know that God took the time to love me through a hardship, to discipline me even, is (again) humbling. And while I wouldn't have chosen it, I grow increasingly thankful for the experience of it. Is that sick?

So, in a nutshell, community and hardship are good. Thank you Jesus that I've experienced the blessings of both.