THAT is a statement my kids hear, at least every other day, in the Burwell home. And we are! Just come over for, well, ten minutes and the "Messed-Up" becomes very obvious. We kick, we pinch, we slap, we tease, we bully. We say things like, "I wish I still lived with my BIRTHMOM instead of YOU." Or, "I wish we didn't get so many kids all the time!" Or, one of my all-time favorites, "You are only my THIRD FAVORITE MOTHER." (This from a Burwell who does indeed have three moms and clearly, she ranks them periodically.)
Sadly, it isn't just the children who are Messed-UP; yep, it is the parents too (especially the mom. Babe, on the other hand, is not nearly so Messed-Up. Plus he is HOT and that goes a long way, my people!) I have to apologize to one or more of my kiddos every day, as my Messed-Up-Ness has sneaked back out. (I am much better at hiding mine than they are; in fact, some of YOU may have never seen it! Trust me. It is there. Ask my "family of origin". Or at least, that is what my therapist always called them.)
Now, I have to tell you that when I was growing up, I dreamed of being a mom! In my dreams, things never looked quite like they have actually turned out. In my dreams, I drive a dream-mini-van (as opposed to a 2003 Odyssey that is currently blue-book valued at, wait for it...$500. No I did not leave out a zero just now). I listen to dream-music (probably 80's hits) spill out of the speakers. We all smile our dream-smiles (with perfectly straight teeth, because who ever dreamed of paying out $300/month for braces!?). I tell my dream-children how very much that I love them, and they say something to the effect of, "No, WE love YOU. We could not be more blessed than we are to have YOU. And now, will you please teach us more about God and Jesus?"
But my people, my dream is but a dream! I tell you that Reality is Messed-Up. (It is at this point that I wish my descriptors did not have to be PG rated! But go ahead and think that word in your head. Yep. Say it like it is!). And how did Reality get like this? Because, back to my original confession ("We are some Messed-Up People!"), Reality consists of those who are Messed-Up and the Messed-Up things that we do. In our house we call it "sin". Others may say, mistakes, weaknesses, bad choices, stupid decisions! It all looks the same, no matter what we call it. Messed-Up Me loves myself, wants the best for myself, and is committed to defending and protecting myself. You can imagine the trouble that these qualities get me into! And I see said-qualities in my kids; apparently they are not genetic, because even our three adopted are Messed-Up.
So, like I said, a few times a week we tell our kids how Messed-Up we all are. But then we offer them hope. Christmas is the perfect time to talk about the Un-Messed-Up One who can fix us and "fit us for heaven" as the carol goes. I can't imagine the Mess we would be without Him!!!!
But for now, we keep confessing our Messed-Up-Ness and praying to change. I encourage you to join me in this! Go ahead, embrace the Mess! (Don't we all have it?! Please tell me yes, or I am going to feel REALLY Messed-Up!). And remember, if you need to feel a little better about YOUR mess, come to our house! We are the house with the screaming and kicking children inside; if you forget our house number, just hang your head out the window and listen for us.
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
God Bless Public School!
God bless public school! I mean, really. What would I do without those angel teachers who receive my children every day for almost eight hours and teach them to read, write, and do all kinds of computations with numbers? I always have a special place in my heart for these educators just after a long summer (this one!), desperately trying to hold things together here on Glenbarr Drive! Oh my word. The countdown till the beginning of school begins…well….just after Memorial Day. (Only 87 days to go…I can do this.)
So, I thought I would take a few minutes to celebrate our wonderful school…the very good gift that God has given us: Wilson Creek Elementary School. We are Wildcats. Respectful, responsible, and ready to learn. (At least until we get home, right?). This is our sixth year to be Wilson Creekers. Cate is in...you will not believe…FIFTH grade. Practically a middle schooler! Already driving! (I mean, not really. But SO grown up!) We have met the community through this child, and the next three that followed her to the school. Babe and I met more neighbors at the bus stop on the first day of kindergarten than we had met in the previous six years that we had lived in the neighborhood! (I mean, really!) Wonderful, diverse Wilson Creek! Look around…only about 25% of the faces that you see look like yours. (Hmm…kind of sounds like our family.) How special for my kids to grow up shoulder to shoulder with the nations. They hardly notice skin color. To them the name “Lakshmi” sounds the same as “Ella”. A summer vacation “back to Korea” is the same as a week at the Gulf Coast. Speaking two or three languages is just what most kids do. (Yes, the Burwell kids are a little behind on this.) On any given play date with school friends, several continents are represented. Personally, I come from a land of Vanilla people. THIS land in which my kids get to live is so much more fun, and a truer representation of the world that God has made. I literally thank Him all the time for this great school…this experience that my kids get to be a part of. It is invaluable. (And sponsored by your tax dollars...Thank you.).
I want to teach my kids to look at the good things in our lives and trace them back to the hand of God. To make the connection that HE is behind the good in our lives. So, Wilson Creek teachers and administrators, a special shout out to you for being a huge gift from God to the Burwells! You are loved. And yes, God bless public school! And now, my next prayer? Year round school!!!!!
So, I thought I would take a few minutes to celebrate our wonderful school…the very good gift that God has given us: Wilson Creek Elementary School. We are Wildcats. Respectful, responsible, and ready to learn. (At least until we get home, right?). This is our sixth year to be Wilson Creekers. Cate is in...you will not believe…FIFTH grade. Practically a middle schooler! Already driving! (I mean, not really. But SO grown up!) We have met the community through this child, and the next three that followed her to the school. Babe and I met more neighbors at the bus stop on the first day of kindergarten than we had met in the previous six years that we had lived in the neighborhood! (I mean, really!) Wonderful, diverse Wilson Creek! Look around…only about 25% of the faces that you see look like yours. (Hmm…kind of sounds like our family.) How special for my kids to grow up shoulder to shoulder with the nations. They hardly notice skin color. To them the name “Lakshmi” sounds the same as “Ella”. A summer vacation “back to Korea” is the same as a week at the Gulf Coast. Speaking two or three languages is just what most kids do. (Yes, the Burwell kids are a little behind on this.) On any given play date with school friends, several continents are represented. Personally, I come from a land of Vanilla people. THIS land in which my kids get to live is so much more fun, and a truer representation of the world that God has made. I literally thank Him all the time for this great school…this experience that my kids get to be a part of. It is invaluable. (And sponsored by your tax dollars...Thank you.).
I want to teach my kids to look at the good things in our lives and trace them back to the hand of God. To make the connection that HE is behind the good in our lives. So, Wilson Creek teachers and administrators, a special shout out to you for being a huge gift from God to the Burwells! You are loved. And yes, God bless public school! And now, my next prayer? Year round school!!!!!
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
3,650 days of Motherhood
My dear Cate is turning 10 years old on January 31! A decade of being a Mom. 3,650 days, give or take a few. Our "bio baby", as she is fondly known in the family. The only one who can trace her genetic issues (lack of height, itty bitty bladder) right back to the two parents sitting across from her at the dinner table.
Her laid-back-ness was obvious in utero...due on January 21, she showed up 10 days late! (Ouch!!). And barely made it at all in the month of January, busting out at 9pm. I pushed hard, because THIS WAS A JANUARY BABY, dang it!
Born to King Planner and His Hottie Wife, Queen Planner, this sweet thing tries hard to help us loosen up some! Last night at dinner, with just 7 days till her birthday, Daddy begged her to come up with a plan for celebrating. COME ON CATE, WE ONLY HAVE SEVEN DAYS TO PLAN THIS. (Dang it again!)
Catherine Joan (named for Troy Burwell's wife and mom, the two greatest women in his life) has taught me a book's worth about motherhood. Someday I may write the whole book, but for your viewing pleasure, I will just include two lessons-in-mothering here:
The first one I dedicate to those among us who have babies or toddlers. How many times did people tell me how much I would adore this child! "You will never have known a love like this before! You won't believe it! You will love her so much that it hurts!" So imagine my insecurity when I in fact did not feel that way AT ALL. I mean, I definitely loved her. And liked her. But "love her so much that it hurt"? The only things that hurt were my nipples! But here is the thing...love grows. Those dear people telling me about this "love" had been mothering their kids for 10,000 days! I only had 13 under my belt, and I was expecting a lot of myself. Love grows. That little girl gets another piece of my heart every day. NOW I get it. Love takes time. Give yourself at least another thousand days before you get worried, Mamas.
The next thought is this...the things that make me proud of her are not what I expected. I had an awesome Mama-is-so-proud moment this past July when my girl was in the National American Miss Pageant; new to this whole kind of experience (and wearing a $16 consignment dress, because I am FRUGALICOUS) she placed in the top 15 of 125 girls. I mean, she practically won! I was quite proud. But then something happened a few months later that made me twice as proud....
Late on a school night, while the other kids slept and Mama and Daddy laid in bed Netflixing, Cate quietly knocked and entered. Tears came quickly as she confessed something very wrong that she had done. She had tried to keep it a secret, but the guilt was killing her. I think she thought we would pull out all the stops....grounded for a month, sweet probation for a year, no more Christmas presents for the rest of her life...but honestly, I have never been prouder. She admitted her sin! She was broken over it! She wanted to repent; she did not want to ever do this again. She saw the damage it did. This was the answer to a million prayers, that my girl would "see her sin and know her need for Jesus Christ." The Hound of Heaven would not let her get away with it! We had no idea, but HE KNEW. And He worked in her heart. That is a God job. I try and try, but all I can do is mold behavior (and if you have ever been around my kids for more than 10 minutes, it would have become clear that I am not even especially good at that). Only God can change a heart. I don't want a Beauty Queen. I want a humble child with a God-changed heart, who knows she is a sinner who needs forgiveness.
So, Happy Birthday Catherine Joan! I have loved getting to be your Mama for a whole decade...and may there be many more for both of us.
Her laid-back-ness was obvious in utero...due on January 21, she showed up 10 days late! (Ouch!!). And barely made it at all in the month of January, busting out at 9pm. I pushed hard, because THIS WAS A JANUARY BABY, dang it!
Born to King Planner and His Hottie Wife, Queen Planner, this sweet thing tries hard to help us loosen up some! Last night at dinner, with just 7 days till her birthday, Daddy begged her to come up with a plan for celebrating. COME ON CATE, WE ONLY HAVE SEVEN DAYS TO PLAN THIS. (Dang it again!)
Catherine Joan (named for Troy Burwell's wife and mom, the two greatest women in his life) has taught me a book's worth about motherhood. Someday I may write the whole book, but for your viewing pleasure, I will just include two lessons-in-mothering here:
The first one I dedicate to those among us who have babies or toddlers. How many times did people tell me how much I would adore this child! "You will never have known a love like this before! You won't believe it! You will love her so much that it hurts!" So imagine my insecurity when I in fact did not feel that way AT ALL. I mean, I definitely loved her. And liked her. But "love her so much that it hurt"? The only things that hurt were my nipples! But here is the thing...love grows. Those dear people telling me about this "love" had been mothering their kids for 10,000 days! I only had 13 under my belt, and I was expecting a lot of myself. Love grows. That little girl gets another piece of my heart every day. NOW I get it. Love takes time. Give yourself at least another thousand days before you get worried, Mamas.
The next thought is this...the things that make me proud of her are not what I expected. I had an awesome Mama-is-so-proud moment this past July when my girl was in the National American Miss Pageant; new to this whole kind of experience (and wearing a $16 consignment dress, because I am FRUGALICOUS) she placed in the top 15 of 125 girls. I mean, she practically won! I was quite proud. But then something happened a few months later that made me twice as proud....
Late on a school night, while the other kids slept and Mama and Daddy laid in bed Netflixing, Cate quietly knocked and entered. Tears came quickly as she confessed something very wrong that she had done. She had tried to keep it a secret, but the guilt was killing her. I think she thought we would pull out all the stops....grounded for a month, sweet probation for a year, no more Christmas presents for the rest of her life...but honestly, I have never been prouder. She admitted her sin! She was broken over it! She wanted to repent; she did not want to ever do this again. She saw the damage it did. This was the answer to a million prayers, that my girl would "see her sin and know her need for Jesus Christ." The Hound of Heaven would not let her get away with it! We had no idea, but HE KNEW. And He worked in her heart. That is a God job. I try and try, but all I can do is mold behavior (and if you have ever been around my kids for more than 10 minutes, it would have become clear that I am not even especially good at that). Only God can change a heart. I don't want a Beauty Queen. I want a humble child with a God-changed heart, who knows she is a sinner who needs forgiveness.
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