The battle to find contentment continues...

This week I signed myself up for the all-women's Diva Day 5k. Participants are encouraged to put teams together and dress up for fun. Our team decided to go with an 80s theme and call ourselves the "Fast Fondas". I purchased a hideous purple leotard with geometric print, leg warmers and a cropped t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder.

In true 80s fashion, the leg openings of my leotard come all the way up to my bellybutton. I laughed at myself in the mirror and wondered who EVER thought this was sexy.

Speaking of workout clothes, as I shared last week, I have been absolutely obsessed with lululemon athletic wear. I really felt like I HAD to have a new outfit from their store. After hours of scouring ebay, and selling two pairs of my old shorts to my next door neighbor, the money was burning a hole in my pocket, so I bought myself a pair of leggings and a new tank top. I checked the mail every day until my new outfit came. When it did, I put it on immediately and wore it around the house all day. Later, when I actually went to the gym, I beamed with pride as a woman recognized the brand of top I was wearing and complimented me on how cute it looked. Not even an hour later, I saw a friend of mine on the way out of the gym. She had a really cute outfit on. It was lulu. I completely felt like a spoiled toddler mentally stomping my feet and thinking "I want it! I want that one too!"

All week as I struggled through wanting something I knew I didn't really NEED, I kept waiting for God to intervene and magically change my heart. It never happened. Instead, he let me have what I wanted - after all, I was pretty bound and determined to get it. It wasn't until I had what I wanted that I realized I wasn't even satisfied. It didn't make me any happier. It didn't really change anything. I felt foolish as I looked at my purple 80s leotard. 30 years ago, someone probably really wanted that leotard. She probably wore it proudly to the gym - butt cheeks hanging out everywhere - and felt really cool. Now, its value is pretty insignificant.

The problem is definitely not the workout clothes - it's my heart. There's certainly nothing wrong with wanting new clothes. The problem comes when you think that some thing - a new outfit, a new job, better pay, a different spouse, different circumstances - will make you happier; it might for a little while, but there are always more outfits, better jobs with higher pay, and people that seem to have it made. Paul says in 1 Timothy that if we have shoes on our feet and bread on the table, that's enough. I looked at those verses in 20 different versions, and I couldn't find any of them that said that you needed cute workout clothes too. Shoot.

I'm really kind of embarrassed that I'm even having this struggle. A year ago, I gave up lattes to support a little boy in Uganda, who needs help just to keep food on the table. I learned so much from that small amount of sacrifice. I think it's time to make another commitment, and do it publicly so I have some accountability. For the next two months - until my birthday in November - I am not going to buy any new clothes, shoes or accessories. I'm having a small heart attack thinking about how hard this will be for me (which may seem ridiculous to some people - except my husband who will probably get up and dance when he reads this). I just want to have a heart that is content, and I know it needs a little work. I'll keep you posted on how it goes...

Absurdly, Ridiculously Over-Priced Workout Clothes

In the past, I've posted to my blog after I felt like I had learned a lesson, or had some neatly-wrapped story to tell that ended in inspiration and warm, fuzzy, good feelings. Someone recently pointed out to me that good blogs are posted to frequently. It occurred to me that if I only posted when I had the time to sit down and thoroughly mull over some topic & wait until I learned what God wanted me to, we might all be waiting a loooong time. It also occurs to me that if I do said frequent posting, that you all will see me in the middle of learning lessons. Uh-oh, this could get ugly.

In all seriousness though, I don't think we've ever done each other any favors when we pretend we've got it all together. I certainly don't have it all together, and as I've mentioned in the past, I often stubbornly learn things the hard way. I can be so childish sometimes that something as simple as clothing can be enough to steer me off-course, and completely distract me from what's really important.

This week, I was completely distracted by lululemon athletica.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this absurdly-ridiculously-expensive work out clothing, I would encourage you to stay oblivious to it's magical powers. When I was training for the marathon, I went through about 15 million pairs of shorts trying to find a pair that would let me keep the skin between my thighs. (Okay, it was like 5 pairs of shorts, but that's still annoying) Well, one of the girls in my running class suggested lululemon shorts. I was willing to check them out. I drove over to the store, and had some serious sticker-shock when I got there. Fifty-four dollars for a pair of shorts?! Fifty-eight dollars for a tank top?! No thank you. Fortunately, I found a pair in the sale bin for $35, and decided to give them a shot. Sure enough, no chaffing! See? Magic.

I have to add here that I looooove clothes. It's really pretty silly. Growing up, I wore a lot of hand-me-downs, which I never minded, but as soon as I was old enough to have a job, the majority of my income went to various stores in the mall. Now, before you judge me, I must add that I am one of the best bargain shoppers ever. The only thing I have ever bought full-price is a pair of jeans.

Since getting married, my clothing purchases have been a little bit reigned-in. My husband, whom I love very dearly, does not view purchasing new clothes as a need. He will wear something until it falls apart, and even then he'll wear it to the gym. I am thankful for this trait, because it is his frugal nature that has enabled us to purchase a nice house and be somewhat financially secure even when we weren't bringing in much income. It doesn't make it any easier not to want to buy clothes though!

A couple of months ago, I started a financial profile on mint.com (the link is at the top of my page - it's a free & fantastic website!). I set a budget for myself, and have been determined not to go beyond that spending limit. I've also been trying to work on the root of the issue - to have a heart that is content with what I have. Just a few weeks ago, I had a clothing-swap party at my house, which enabled me to get several new outfits - for free! I decided since I got free clothes, I would forgo spending any money on clothing the following month.

This is like a totally predictable movie where you know exactly what is going to happen before it does, right? Of course if I commit to not spending any money on clothes, EVERY SINGLE store I go into will have something I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT. Plus, I cleaned out my workout clothes drawer, I decided I toooootally needed some new workout clothes. The old ones were so dingy and sweaty. Ewww.

I 'stumbled' upon the lululemon website the other day, and picked out an outfit I decided I needed. I heard a quiet "no" in my spirit.

"BUT...." I started.

"No."

"adefhawefadjfh asdkrawieru. Commitments are lame. Fine."

Except then I kept checking the website every day, for waaaay too long. And E-bay. And the store in town.

So, I decided to let it go, somewhat publicly. One of my favorite things about blogging is to be able to look back and see how God changes me. I love that God cares about everything - even absurdly, ridiculously over-priced work out clothes. But more importantly, he cares about my character, and even more than I want some really cool shorts with built-in pockets for gel packs, I want to change. I want to have a heart that is content.

Stay tuned to see what God does...in the meantime, I'll be happily working out in dingy, sweaty workout clothes ;-)

The Master Plan

No one is in the house, and I am watching Monday night football. I am sort of wondering what is wrong with me. How many other women do I know that would watch Monday night football alone and enjoy it? Not many.

I've shared this before, but the reason I love football is because my dad coached a high school team throughout most of my childhood. The sounds of the whistles, helmets crashing against each other, players yelling - they all remind me of being little and looking up at my daddy who was my hero. I got excited when my dad did, and I was disappointed when he was. I loved being on the sidelines and feeling like I was part of the team. Because of those experiences in my past, I enjoy the sport today.

Whether good or bad, our past experiences influence how we perceive our present situation. As a former single mom, my experience of having to do everything solo at times, makes me appreciate even the little things, like now having a second pair of hands to unload groceries. More recently, I discovered that my past experience of getting pregnant twice, unexpectedly, while trying to prevent it, led me to believe that if I actually tried to conceive, surely it would happen immediately. Past experiences can be powerful influences.

Yesterday, we honored the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I was literally glued to the TV for three days watching specials, listening to stories of those who sacrificed their lives to save others, stories of miraculous survival, and stories of bitterness and anger. Surely all who were involved were significantly affected in some manner, and would never be the same because of what happened. As I watched, I found myself wondering how some of them would ever be able to move on, to live without thinking of their past every single day.

In my own life, as I try to navigate around my own past, I've found myself asking God: "What are you trying to teach me?" I was overwhelmed at the verse that came to my mind this evening. I've read it a thousand times, but tonight it suddenly had new meaning. Proverbs 3:5-6 says:

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding [or past experiences]. Seek HIS will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take."

Yesterday, as I helped in children's church, I was reminded that God has a plan for all of us. We each have our own, unique set of influences, past experiences and circumstances, but God has a unique and perfect plan, that takes into account every event that shapes us into who we are. Trust that God has a good plan for your life, and that

"ALL things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." Romans 8:28

He is big enough to carry our hurt and our disappointments, and He is not deterred by our mistakes. He only asks for our hearts ['those who love God'] and our trust.

The big, ugly MARATHON

I may have mentioned before that I can be very ambitious, which really translates into me trying to tackle things that are, in reality, over my head. Take for example when I first started this blog and decided that I was going to write every single day. It sure didn't take me long to figure out that blogging daily was a lot more of a time commitment than I had really thought through. Or, how about the time I watched HGTV too much and decided that tiling a back splash would be a piece of cake. 14 hours and many tears later, I decided to stop watching HGTV for a while. The back splash is still not finished. The point is, I love the IDEA of things, but many times, when the rubber meets the road, I wonder "what was I thinking?!"

Recently, I decided that I was going to train for a marathon. I didn't really see this as something overly ambitious. After all, I had run 2 half-marathons, and ran track in high school and cross country in college (sort of. I ran one race, but mostly just worked out with the team.). I was pretty happy with my half-marathon time last year, so I figured, why not run the full?

I signed up for the training class, and things were going pretty well. On our longer 20+ mile runs, I found myself tired, but finishing strong and enjoying myself. I wasn't even sore much. I figured I could run the marathon in about 4 hours, or a 9:08 minute mile average pace. I had run a 8:30 pace for the half, so it seemed do-able. My only setback came about 2 1/2 weeks before the race when I got sick. I was sick for several days before going to the doctor to get some antibiotics. I cut back on my training and tried to rest. It didn't really work.

I was only 6 miles into my marathon on race day when I wanted to stop running and walk. I kept pushing, watching my watch & keeping my pace steady. At the half-way point, I was right on track at 2 hours, but then came "the hill". After that stretch of the race, it was a battle just to keep going. I have never been so tired in my entire life.

Around mile 19 or 20, my husband joined me and ran the last several miles of the race with me. Without him, I doubt I would have finished. He encouraged me to keep going every step of the way, and helped me keep my mind off the pain I was in. I kept looking at my watch, and watched as my mile times slowed down more, and more, and more. I was so disappointed. I finally crossed the finish line, in tears, with a time of 4 hours 28 minutes - almost half an hour slower than my goal time.

Following the race, every time someone asked me how it went, I wanted to change the subject. People kept telling me that it was an accomplishment just to finish, but I didn't feel consoled. I knew I could do better. I had expectations.

I've been thinking a lot about expectations lately. I think it's wonderful to set goals, but expectations can be a little more tricky. Adam & I had a goal to enjoy our first year of marriage before trying to expand our family. I expected to get pregnant instantly. After all, I have gotten pregnant twice without trying, so surely if I tried, I figured it would happen right away. Not the case. And, that's when the disappointment sets in.

So, I find myself wondering how to deal with the disappointment I've been facing lately, and I've learned a few things along the way.

1. Sometimes you have to adjust your expectations.

Runner's World Magazine says to always have multiple goals when running a race: a lofty one, a realistic one, and a goal for when nothing seems to go right. The fact of the matter is that there are things in life that we have no control over. On one hand, we don't want to set our expectations so high that they are unattainable, while on the other hand, we don't want to settle for mediocrity. Finding a balance is challenging.

2. Learn from your disappointments.

Pain always teaches us something - if we let it. Whenever I'm wrestling with something challenging, my mom always encourages me to ask God what He wants me to learn from it.
"We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us—they help us learn to endure. And endurance develops strength of character . . . "

3. Immerse yourself in community

One of the greatest lessons I took away from running the marathon is that we were not meant to do life alone. From the friends that trained with me for months: Alan, Scott, Rod, Ross, Thurston, Carol, Kara (when I could keep up with her for a couple minutes), to the friends who showed up to encourage me along the way: Randy & Darci,(that little poster board meant the world to me), and Nick & Denise who stayed almost 3 hours to watch me finish - all of you helped me get through my race. Finally,I couldn't have made it without my husband. As miserable as I was, I don't think I've ever felt closer to someone in my whole life. Every step of the last 6 miles confirmed that I had married an incredible man. When I told him I couldn't have finished without him, he told me he was just living out his vows to me: "I promise to stand by you when you are feeling strong and to stand by you when you need someone to lean on. I promise to comfort you and encourage you at all times."

I'm so thankful that God gave us other people to walk through the tough times of life with.

4. Remember: this isn't it!

Often, Adam will remind the boys that disappointment helps us remember that we have more to look forward to than life on earth! No matter what disappoints us, we have hope of one day never being disappointed. Paul says "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal" ( 2 Corinthians 4:16-18). God's plans are nearly always bigger than we think. The sting of our relatively short-term disappointments in no way compares to the ultimate hope we have in Him.

I love how Rusty Wright sums this all up: "Wonderful things will come our way once Jesus returns to this troubled planet. But even now, God offers compassion, forgiveness, and strength to those who trust in Him. Relationship with Him gives us the great hope that empowers us to face any disappointment.

I'm absolutely sure that I'll have plenty more opportunities to face disappointment. I'm also absolutely sure that no matter what I face, God's grace is enough to carry me through it. Tis so sweet trust in Jesus.

Another lesson learned...

Without fail, it seems that the best writing I produce stems from some event that has caused me pain. I guess you could call me a girl that learns the hard way. My Native American name would probably be: Shannan One Who Has Thick Skull. I know my dad has told my sisters at times "don't make the same mistake Shannan did!"

Recently, the lesson I learned was particularly painful. You see, life has gotten busy. Unbearably busy. It seems like each day I have an insurmountable to-do list that I never quite get through. With the kids out of school for the summer, I now have the added challenge of trying to get work done while the kids race through the house with laser guns that make the dog go crazy, barking and attacking the walls. Growler actually took a chunk out of the bathroom wall today trying to bite the light coming from the toy gun.(sigh) Anyway...last week I was having a particularly rough day. I had planned a trip up to my great-grandfather's house to pay the 101 year-old a visit, and greet my great-grandmother who had just come home from open heart surgery. I just didn't make it. I was exhausted. I didn't want to wrestle the boys. I had all sorts of reasons. So, I stayed home.

The next morning I was back at my frantic pace, only stopping briefly, on my way out the door to check my voice mail. Great-granddad had passed away.

I was consoled by friends and family that he went peacefully, that he wouldn't have known I was there yesterday anyway. After all, he had started to be less aware of his surroundings. Still, I had been too busy.

Later that week I went through a file that had been uncovered sorting through his things. He had kept every letter I had ever written him, starting with 3 letter words I knew how to spell in my sloppy 4-year old handwriting. I was amazed at the length and detail my mother went to to keep in contact with him over the years, and I was grateful for all the times she sat me down and made me write thank you notes, because they were now priceless as I re-read them years later.

One of the greatest challenges as a mother is maintaining our priorities. It's so easy to get caught up in everything we have to do: the laundry, the homework, work-work, running errands, exercising, feeding the dog...(sigh again!)This week I am reminded that life is short, and I have to weigh the cost of accomplishing tasks. For example, I might get a lot of work done, but will it come at the cost of my boys feeling neglected? The yard could look fantastic, but is it more important to visit with the neighbor who might be lonely? It's hard to keep a balance. Life is demanding, but at the end of the day, I don't want to have any regrets. I would trade all the work I got done that day, and do it 3 extra times just to squeeze my granddad's hand one more time and see him smile at me. I guess I'll just have to wait.

In order to have fewer moments of regret, my goal this week is to be more like Mary:

38 As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught. 40 But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.”

41 But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! 42 There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42


Sit at His feet today. Slow down and listen to Him tell you how much He loves you. Listen to Him tell you that you are ENOUGH. You are valuable. You are precious. Then, you will have what you need to face the day. :-)

Just another Manic Monday...

I am discouraged - I mean, pummelled bloody, kicked-while-I'm-down, tears run dry & can't get off the floor - discouraged. My kids have been sick. My husband is sick. I haven't slept, and I can't concentrate on work because I'm exhausted and emotionally drained.

Today we were supposed to go to court. I thought there was going to be justice, or at least some progress. Instead, we are still waiting. I'm so tired of waiting.

I keep trying to tell myself that life is not that bad - look at all I have! I'm not finding any comfort there. There are always people that you can find that have it worse, but it doesn't seem to take away from what's going on inside. I still feel angry, ripped off, cheated, played for a fool. I still want God to intervene!

He calms my heart and lets me pour out my anger and frustration. He knows. He sees. He reminds me of His promises. And, even though I don't know if the circumstances will get any better, I have His peace. It doesn't make sense, really, nothing has changed - I will still wait. But, I have crawled into my Papa's lap - the best place to be - and I have traded my burden for comfort, purchased with a little faith.

"Trust in the Lord with all of your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take." Proverbs 3:5-6

Remember the Titans

Yesterday, we had something of a celebrity at the mall signing autographs. Marc Mariani, a small-town guy from Havre, Montana and former Griz wide receiver was recently selected to play in the Pro Bowl for special teams after his rookie season with the Tennessee Titans. Naturally, in a small town that loves its college football team, and has no professional teams to cheer for, this was a big deal. My 7-year-old wanted to go. I drug my feet, and took him at the last minute, not wanting to deal with the crowds. When we arrived, there was already a very long line. Some friends a few rows in front of us informed me that they had already been in line for 2 hours, and were still quite far from getting an autograph. Apparently, people had lined up hours before the autograph signing even began. We had only been there for about 15 minutes when it was time for the NFL player to head out to another commitment. My son started to cry when he realized that he was not going to get anything signed. I'll have to admit that I can get kind of star-struck at times; I certainly was when I first met my husband - I mean, he's on TV! But, with Marc Mariani, it was different. I had gone to school with a lot of former-Griz football players; I saw them on a daily basis. I even worked with Marc's girlfriend for a few years, so I had met him once or twice. I looked down at Tyler and said "Buddy, it's okay - he's just a guy. He's really good at football, but he's just a man." My son wasn't really buying it, so I distracted him with some ice cream, and eventually we survived the day.

Later that night, I was laughing to myself thinking of how we can get so excited over famous people - just to say we saw them or touched them or knew them - as if it enhanced our lives in some way. Like I said, I've been guilty of it. I love telling people the story of how I poured Jeff Fisher, Marc Mariani's coach, a beer one time. I see him on TV & say "I met him once." Neat huh?

This morning we were sitting in church listening to the pastor talking about prayer. I've also been reading a book on prayer called "The Papa Prayer" by Larry Crabb, and I feel like I'm re-learning everything I ever thought I knew on the subject. One thing in particular is being aware of who I'm talking to. If God is who we believe Him to be - the King of the Universe, the Creator of all things, the One who knows our every thought - we have some privilege being able to walk right up to Him. No lines. No security guards. No need to be anyone special. Even more mind-blowing is that he wants to be with us. It's a claim-to-fame that actually makes a difference. Today, I'm reminded that Jesus' death on the cross provided me with something that I take for granted - access to God. Now that's neat huh? :-)