I didn't know exactly what to call this one - everything just seemed so trite...

Aaron and I have been on staff in several positions at Freedom for the past 14 years (youth, associate and now lead pastors). It has been an honor, a privilege and a joy to serve alongside of our best friends, Jason and Krista Miller for the bulk of that time.

Jason led worship on staff for the past 13 years. And while I consider myself fairly articulate and capable of writing pretty accurate "word pictures," I am at a complete loss of how to describe Jason's ability to "lead worship" as anything other than a perfect amalgamation of God-given gift combined with adoration for a deserving Savior combined with deep love for the people he leads.

He and Krista feel that this chapter of their lives has come to an end. He is simply done leading worship. Period. They will remain at Freedom as "just regular church folk." :) Whatever that means or looks like.

Yesterday was his last day leading worship and it was a wonderful time of reflection, fun, emotion, appreciation and most importantly, the presence of God. The church presented them with an award and a farewell (which isn't really the correct word since they aren't going anywhere, but for lack of a better one, I'll use the word "farewell") luncheon complete with gifts (some heartfelt, some kinda sketchy), their favorite foods, their least favorite songs. And of course, what farewell (insert better word) luncheon would be complete without tears and hugs?

It was a bittersweet time.

I tend to have a fairly "compartmentalized" way of thinking of things. My husband says I'm a kind of a dude like that. So, in that regard, I've been able to compartmentalize this particular life transition. Here is my personal summary:

• I am sad that this chapter of worship has ended at Freedom.
• I am excited about the next chapter of worship at Freedom.
• I am going to miss the ministry-related aspects of our friendship that made it easy to spend time with my dear friends (staff work-away weekends, conferences, banquets, lunches after church, pastors' wives retreats, etc.)
• I am looking forward to new, creative ways of spending time with them where we talk NOTHING about ministry!

But I realize that this particular way of thinking isn't necessarily commonplace. Especially for those with the double X chromosomes. So, I'll make a particularly "female" and obvious analogy (and it applies primarily to those at Freedom...)

In the process of childbirth, there is a stage of labor and delivery known as "transition." Up until this point, it's not uncommon for a woman in labor to spend the first few hours of the process pleasantly chatting with family members in the hospital room as things progress - or an entire stinkin' entourage - as was the case with my first child. I married a Hlavin. They are very social beings.

Transition is described by babycenter.com (and those of us who've experienced it live), as "the most intense part of labor." And that's putting it very mildly. I'll protect naive readers from the reality of this for now. You'll thank me later.

I think that the what gets us through "transition," in both childbirth and other areas of life, is knowing that just on the other side of this particularly difficult part of the process is something really good and perhaps even life changing. We may not know exactly what it will look like, sound like or feel like, but we trust the process because we know we're in good hands:
His perfect, nail-scarred hands.

I did awesome...er...I mean...KAYLA did awesome on her Flat Stanley project...

Each of the members of Mrs. DuPont's 2nd Grade class must take a turn bringing Flat Stanley home for a week of adventures. The students are to take pictures of or draw said adventures and write about them.

We had the joy of bringing Flat Stanley into our home over Spring Break. Here is a photo of her evaluation of the project.

This is what Stanley looked like under normal circumstances (Stanley is the paper one. The baby is my adorable nephew, Levi. The beautiful girl is Kayla).

Now, before  you look at the next photos, I have a disclaimer. Aw, heck. Who am I kidding? I have no disclaimer. I love this kind of stuff. Kayla and I have a blast working on her school projects. We made clothes for Stanley! I have TONS of scrapbook paper so we used it to make awesome outfits. Just like paper doll clothes - with fold over tabs to keep the garments on.

This is Stanley's Easter Outfit.

We took a lovely family photo with him in the foyer of Freedom.

And here's Stanley at the Girls' All Nighter at church. He's wearing lovely Superman pajamas.

And then, Stanely attended my other nephew, Dylan's, 5th birthday party at the Macomb Township Community Center Pool. 

Yep, those are floaties and swim trunks.

It's probably a good thing that I've recently started working outside of the home again.

Happy 20th "Will-You-Go-With-Me?" Anniversary to Me!

What is it about being 15 that makes emotion such a tangible thing?

Sitting next to him in church that Sunday evening, our feelings were practically entities that we could almost reach out and touch. The nervousness that rolled off of him in waves was palpable. His breathing was uneven and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. And I prayed that he couldn't feel the pure electricity that was arcing from me simply from sitting so close to him.

My family was pretty new to the church and my parents had mixed feelings about this crush I had developed on the pastor's son. I think they were worried about me embarrassing myself if my love was unrequited.

Every time I was in the room with him, I was certain that anyone within 2 feet of me could hear my heart slamming against the inside of my chest. I really tried to play it cool, but I'm sure I failed miserably. Unfortunately, my face doesn't hide my feelings very well so I'm fairly certain that it formed a pathetic, pining, Shakespeareanly tragic expression whenever he was near. I was smitten, to say the least.

And in a kind of a creepy, stalkerish way, that I even hesitate to admit, I had known who he was long before he knew I existed. My family started attending the church in late 1991. And back then, in the church circle where we were raised, youth groups from different churches went to big mass "rallies" and camps and "Winter Holidays." It was during those combined events, prior to late 1991, that, let's just say he had caught my eye.

No. That would be putting it too mildly. He had forcibly abducted my eye, tied it up and held it captive in a basement somewhere. It was that intense.

The first time I knew he existed was after a combined event between my former church and his. I had been unable to attend for whatever reason and yet my friend was kind enough to tell me all about him the next time I saw her and event pointed him out to me at Winter Holiday the next month. It was then that the violent kidnapping of my eye took place. He was the best looking boy I had ever seen - in OR out of church. However, it was glaringly obvious that he was popular in our church world - and therefore out of my realm of reality.

Or so I believed.

But by this particular Sunday - April 12, 1992 - my family had begun attending his father's church and my crush had grown into it's very own life form constantly making it's presence known.

We actually knew each other now! He talked to me with regularity! And then some dramatic love triangle-type stuff happened and it suddenly occurred to me that he could possibly like me! Lots of exclamation points!!!!!

He started going to great lengths to sit near me at church or youth events. He even offered to pick me (and my little brother) up and drive me to said events. Plus he was very nice to me (but I couldn't be sure what that meant, because he had a certain gift - and still does - for making whomever it was that he was talking to feel like the most important person on earth.)

It sure seemed like he was interested in me.

And again, that "being 15 thing" clouds your judgment with insecurity and lack of confidence. He was two years older than me. He was captain of the basketball team at a different school. I'd seen him with his friends at school - clearly a different crowd than I ran with. Had we attended the same high school, I doubted that he would even talk to me.

But then, it all became crystal clear when, on that Sunday (April 12, 1992) - in the middle of his father's sermon - he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "So, should we make this thing official?"

I couldn't quite make sense of what he was saying because the room started spinning and breathing became very difficult. My mind struggled to wrap itself around the reality that his lips were that close to my ear. And, wow, did he smell good.

"Wh...what?" I managed.

"Will you go with me?" His breath was warm on my neck. Peppermint Certs. He was always sucking on a Peppermint Cert.

SIDENOTE: "Will you go with me?" Do people still say that? I've been married for nearly 13 years now so I'm not familiar with the "starting a relationship" vernacular of the day. LOL!

The reality of the moment finally hit me as I smiled and nodded yes. He grinned and casually draped his arm on the back of my chair so he could wrap it around my shoulder.

I think I was close to complete organ shutdown in that moment.

I guess I could say, "the rest is history" but that would be too contrived and trite. The rest was actually an up and down roller coaster of drama, insecurity, poor choices (on my part) and over-the top-starts and devastating stops until we finally - by the grace of God - grew up and realized that love is more than the spinning of the room when the object of your affection's lips are close to your ear. And more importantly, that our respective identities needed to found in Christ alone and not one another.

But that's a story for another day.

In the meantime enjoy these 20 year old pictures taken on film. (That's a link to wikipedia in case you don't know what "film" is.) I know. Weird, right?:

Pretty much what I looked like during the course of the teenage part of our relationship...


Pretty much what he looked like during the course of the teenage part of our relationship...



In the hallway at Fa-Ho-Lo during SLAM Retreat (observe the way he'd perch his hat at the back of his head in an effort to avoid messing up the hair he'd spent an insane amount of time perfecting and finishing with Rave hairspray-which we all did back then):

Resurrection Eggs

Each year, during Holy Week, the girls and I reflect on how grateful we are for what Jesus did on the cross for us. We do this using Resurrection Eggs.

They are simply plastic eggs numbered 1-12 (with a Sharpie) containing items symbolic of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus.


Egg #1 contains a small plastic leaf to remind us of His Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. The account of this can be found in the New Testament of the Bible in Matthew 21.


#2 and #3 have piece of bread and a plastic communion cup to remind us of the Last Supper. The account of this can be found in several places in the New Testament: Matthew 26, Mark 14 and Luke 22.





# 4 contains three dimes representative of the 30 pieces of silver that Judas was paid to betray Jesus. You can read about that in Matthew 27.


Egg #5 contains tiny thorns from a rose bush (it's hard to see in this picture) representative of the crown of thorns that was placed upon His head during his trial and humiliation. Read about that in Matthew 27, Mark 15 and John 19.


#6 and #7 include a tiny nail and a small wooden cross that remind us of how he was nailed to a cross during the crucifixion. Read about that in Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23 and John 19.




#8 includes a die to remind us of how the Roman soldiers cast lots for Jesus' garments. See Matthew 2, Mark 15, Juke 23 and John 19.

Eggs 9-11 include items represenative of the burial of Jesus (a perfumed piece of linen, spices and a stone). Read about this in Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23 and John 19.







And finally, Egg #12 is empty! It reminds us of the empty tomb because Jesus rose from the dead! You can find that in Matthew 28!



And of course, every time we talk about the death and resurrection, I cry like a baby - and they stare at me like I'm insane.

"Calling somebody else fat...

...won't make you any skinnier. Calling someone stupid doesn't make you any smarter. And ruining Regina George's life definitely didn't make me any happier. All you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you."

-Cady Herron, Mean Girls

A while back, I spent some wonderful time over coffee with an intelligent, hard-working, bright, shining young woman.
Our time together and uplifting conversation prompted me to write this letter to the collective female population as a whole:
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dear Women,

Can we please stop being so mean to and judgmental of one another? Isn't it hard enough being a woman without having the rest of your gender criticize and question your every life choice?

It doesn't matter if you're your single, single with children, married with no children, married with children, work outside the home, stay at home, vaccinate, don't vaccinate, public school, private school, homeschool, or whatever. You are valuable. You may be your teens, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s or 100s - it doesn't matter - you bring something of worth to the table. God thinks so, therefore, so do I.

We all make choices to the best of our abilities and ideally with the direction of God. And just because we've moved to a different place in life, that doesn't mean that everyone living in the place we once dwelled has it so easy, or has "no idea how hard it is being/doing __________ ." It's so easy to forget what life was like before the stage we're currently in.

In the Bible, the Apostle Paul addressed this issue to women in Titus 2:3-5

"Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God."

And while this verse specifically addresses some issues that surrounded the day-to-day life of women in the New Testament church circa A.D. 63, I get the impression that it includes timeless truths:

1. We shouldn't be slanderers
2. We need to love
3. Self-control is important
4. Purity is key
5. Kindness is imperative
6. Obedience to the Word of God is crucial
7. We're all learning from one another

Am I perfect in this regard? Absolutely not. My inner Mean Girl rears her ugly little head more than I like to admit. Usually when I'm tired and feeling sorry for myself for _____________ . (Ambiguous much?)

Then I have a choice. Do I call/text my good friend to spout off because I know she'll empathize? Do I stew and complain to my husband? Do I type and then hastily delete nasty "to-whom-it-may-concern" Facebook status updates? Maybe.

Should I? Absolutely not. Why? Because it doesn't help me grow into the Christian/Woman/Wife/Mother/Friend/ Daughter/ Sister/Pastor's Wife/Women's Ministry Director/Bible Study Leader/Mentor/Etc. that I know the Lord wants me to be.

Ladies, we're raising daughters. If not literally, then we're examples, by default of our gender, to the daughters around us. Do we want them to be strong, kind, compassionate, gracious, thoughtful, selfless women of resolve and purpose? Then I think we need to be vibrant, unyielding examples of this.

Mean Girls don't just go away. They grow up into Mean Women.

Sincerely,
Someone Still Learning This Lesson

Stuff Aaron Says...

I have a Jade Plant that my mother gave me as an Easter gift one year before she passed away. Miraculously, the thing is still alive. (If you know my track record with plants, then you truly understand what a miracle this is.)

Today, Aaron said, as he walked past the flourishing plant on my kitchen windowsill, "Hey...I'm convinced your mom is living in this plant."

It's Monday again! In case you forgot...

Outside my window...sunshine! Again! Yay!

I am thinking...that I'm so tired of being tired...

I am thankful for...coffee

From the kitchen...baked pita chips

I am wearing...a blue long sleeve T-shirt and black fleece pants

I am creating...a system to organize school papers

I am going...to Bible Study tomorrow!!

I am reading...just finished reading two books this past week. Go me!

I am hoping...to get caught up from spending the weekend getting behind. LOL!

I am hearing...the washer and dryer. Looks like I'll be spending the evening folding laundry - and watching Alcatraz.

Around the house...Valentine's goodies that need to be assembled into gifts for my family.

One of my favorite things...

A few plans for the rest of the week: Bible Study prep, Bible Study, various other administrative ministry stuff, Preschool-at-home throughout the week, Story Hour, Nursery duty, Swimming Lessons, Mother Daughter PJ Party at school, MiWomen meeting (my feet are the black ballet flats),

Here is picture for thought I am sharing:
These are the ladies of the MiWomen team. I love this photo because we all look so hardcore...