Love
Love has many facets.
From Corintians 13:4-8
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
From me:
Love is giving everything you can for your loved ones.
Love is kindness, respect, trust and support.
Love is not judgemental and is given unconditionally, no matter what.
Love is your husband sewing the strap on your favorite bra that the foster puppy chewed.
Love is simple, love is kind.
I pray that my loved sister will read this.
You Warm My Heart
Dear Murray,
When you giggle at something funny, or just plain gross (you are a boy after all), you warm my heart.
When I witness your kindness to other people, you warm my heart.
When you fall asleep in my lap, holding your Pooh Bear close, you warm my heart.
When your creativity shines, you warm my heart.
When you get excited about anything and your eyes light up, you warm my heart.
When you look at me and tell me how much you love me, you warm my heart.
When I watch you playing and laughing, you warm my heart.
When you have good manners, you warm my heart.
When you want me to read to you, play a game with you, or just snuggle you, you warm my heart.
When I see a look of determined concentration on your face, you warm my heart.
When you tell me about your passions (i.e. Transformers and Power Rangers), you warm my heart.
When you talk about your love for Jesus, you warm my heart.
"Dear God, will you please tell Grandma Kathy to talk to us to tell us what it's like in heaven? I'm worried about her and I don't know if I can bring my bear and blanket. How do I know what it's like there? Do you have the same things up in heaven, God, and can she talk to us? Can I walk on the clouds? Thank you, God, love, Murray and Amen."
When you pet Rudy and tell him how wonderful he is, you warm my heart.
When you see me sad, and try to make me happy by singing "Twinkle, Twinkle", you warm my heart.
When you are growing up, you warm my heart.
When you are sad and have tears, my heart breaks.
And for the million other things you do to warm my heart, I have you to thank. You are my boy. Here's to a lifetime of happiness, little one.
When you giggle at something funny, or just plain gross (you are a boy after all), you warm my heart.
When I witness your kindness to other people, you warm my heart.
When you fall asleep in my lap, holding your Pooh Bear close, you warm my heart.
When your creativity shines, you warm my heart.
When you get excited about anything and your eyes light up, you warm my heart.
When you look at me and tell me how much you love me, you warm my heart.
When I watch you playing and laughing, you warm my heart.
When you have good manners, you warm my heart.
When you want me to read to you, play a game with you, or just snuggle you, you warm my heart.
When I see a look of determined concentration on your face, you warm my heart.
When you tell me about your passions (i.e. Transformers and Power Rangers), you warm my heart.
When you talk about your love for Jesus, you warm my heart.
"Dear God, will you please tell Grandma Kathy to talk to us to tell us what it's like in heaven? I'm worried about her and I don't know if I can bring my bear and blanket. How do I know what it's like there? Do you have the same things up in heaven, God, and can she talk to us? Can I walk on the clouds? Thank you, God, love, Murray and Amen."
When you pet Rudy and tell him how wonderful he is, you warm my heart.
When you see me sad, and try to make me happy by singing "Twinkle, Twinkle", you warm my heart.
When you are growing up, you warm my heart.
When you are sad and have tears, my heart breaks.
And for the million other things you do to warm my heart, I have you to thank. You are my boy. Here's to a lifetime of happiness, little one.
A Tribute to "Bluey"
It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of "Bluey", Murray's beloved blue Beta fish. He was found deceased this morning at approximately 10:34 by his five year old owner.
Bluey was a good fish. He was kind and never complained. His passions included floating around in his bowl and eating.
Bluey's funeral arrangements are pending. Murray needs time to grieve, and he just can't bear to send him to the big lake in thetoilet sky. We said a prayer over him; Murray asked God to let Bluey play with him someday, and he plans to honor him by naming all subsequent fish "Bluey".
Rest in peace, dear Bluey. You were loved.
Okay, insert hysterical laughter here. Here's how it all went down:
Murray asked me to come with him to look at something. I did, and he led me to Bluey's bowl. He pointed and matter of factly asked, "Mom, is Bluey dead?" I callously replied, "Yep!" not expecting sobbing to ensue. I honestly didn't think he would care.
Well, sobbing did ensue, and I had to excuse myself from the room because I was laughing. When I calmed down, we said a nice prayer over Bluey's bowl and discussed about what we would do with his body. Murray is not ready to see him go, so his remains will stay in place until he is ready to make a decision (unless he starts to smell). For now, we're having an open casket.
The following Facebook thread is hysterical (posted with permission). We are feeling so grateful for the kind sentiments about Bluey.
The Obit:
It is with great sadness that I announce that Bluey, Murray's beloved blue beta fish has passed away. He was a good fish. We said a prayer for him, and now, he is in fish heaven. Murray is very sad about Bluey's passing, but Bluey will live in our hearts forever. Lots of Murray's tears around here today. He plans to honor Bluey by naming every single fish after him.
Am I a horrible mother for having to leave the room because I had to hide my hysterical laughter? My son's sadness is never funny, but it's a .99 fish for goodness sake. Poor kid. Life's lessons can be so hard.
Bluey was a good fish. He was kind and never complained. His passions included floating around in his bowl and eating.
Bluey's funeral arrangements are pending. Murray needs time to grieve, and he just can't bear to send him to the big lake in the
Rest in peace, dear Bluey. You were loved.
Okay, insert hysterical laughter here. Here's how it all went down:
Murray asked me to come with him to look at something. I did, and he led me to Bluey's bowl. He pointed and matter of factly asked, "Mom, is Bluey dead?" I callously replied, "Yep!" not expecting sobbing to ensue. I honestly didn't think he would care.
Well, sobbing did ensue, and I had to excuse myself from the room because I was laughing. When I calmed down, we said a nice prayer over Bluey's bowl and discussed about what we would do with his body. Murray is not ready to see him go, so his remains will stay in place until he is ready to make a decision (unless he starts to smell). For now, we're having an open casket.
The following Facebook thread is hysterical (posted with permission). We are feeling so grateful for the kind sentiments about Bluey.
The Obit:
It is with great sadness that I announce that Bluey, Murray's beloved blue beta fish has passed away. He was a good fish. We said a prayer for him, and now, he is in fish heaven. Murray is very sad about Bluey's passing, but Bluey will live in our hearts forever. Lots of Murray's tears around here today. He plans to honor Bluey by naming every single fish after him.
Am I a horrible mother for having to leave the room because I had to hide my hysterical laughter? My son's sadness is never funny, but it's a .99 fish for goodness sake. Poor kid. Life's lessons can be so hard.
From R.S.:
Oh my heavens, you've got me laughing hysterically too. No, you're not a bad mom. You would have been if you'd stayed in the room and laughed out loud. Politely excusing you to have a natural and normal reaction is permitted. By the way, when my puppy...
From J.R:
I can't believe Bluey was still alive! i thought he was done for when I was there! RIP Bluey.... Thank you for being a good fishy for Murray.
Marie Beckerleg Thanks, Rox! Murray is not ready to lay Bluey to rest, so we're giving him time to grieve. Lol!
From J.R.:
Are we going to bury him or convince him that the toilet will flush him to a big lake in Heaven??
From R.S.:
Marie, you have me roaring here! I mentioned a tribute on my wall, too, so others could join in a great heave of sympathy.
Marie Beckerleg I can't stop laughing! Craig is currently searching the Walmart web site for a new tank and new fish. He read our comment threads and your wall post and then he had to excuse himself. I could hear him snorting with laughter!
From R.S.:
I am laughing still and just asked the family to consider a moment of silence for this special intention. Elizabeth looked at me very strangely. I think she thinks I've lost it.
From J.R.:
omg. I am laughing so hard! poor Murray... What a kind heart he has. But... still super funny!!
And then, R.S. posted this on her wall:
Please join me in heartfelt condolences for "Bluey," the precious and beloved beta fish of my friend Marie Beckerleg's 5-year-old son, Murray. Our great loss becomes an eternal gain for the big ocean in heaven! :) (Thanks for the bittersweet smiles today, Marie. :))
God speed, Bluey. You are missed. But, we don't miss changing your water.
Get Your Flu Shot
Yesterday was a rough day. I haven't been feeling well this winter - two weeks ago, I came down with strep, and before that, I caught every other bug that was going around. And although my throat started to feel better a couple of days after the strep, I couldn't shake the exhaustion and the cough.
Yesterday, I was diagnosed with influenza b. Yep, that one. Darn me for not getting my flu shot. I know better.
And when I get sick, really sick, I'm a big baby. I want my mom (which obviously isn't possible), I hate myself for being incompetent and stuck in bed, and most especially, I feel incredibly guilty for missing work. I detest myself when I can't meet my responsibilities. And then I just turn into a sobbing, sick mess.
And so, once again today, I'm lying on the couch, unable to sleep. Part of that is worry and anxiety about work and household stuff, but the rest of the sleeplessness is that every time I doze, I wake up in a coughing fit. Cough medicine with codeine doesn't help, and I've even tried honey (which helps a bit better than the codeine, at least for a short while).
I need to tell my brain to shut off and let my body rest. I need to kick this for once and for all. Mostly? I need spring.
There are worse problems in the world, and tomorrow is another day. I'll get through it, I always do.
Yesterday, I was diagnosed with influenza b. Yep, that one. Darn me for not getting my flu shot. I know better.
And when I get sick, really sick, I'm a big baby. I want my mom (which obviously isn't possible), I hate myself for being incompetent and stuck in bed, and most especially, I feel incredibly guilty for missing work. I detest myself when I can't meet my responsibilities. And then I just turn into a sobbing, sick mess.
And so, once again today, I'm lying on the couch, unable to sleep. Part of that is worry and anxiety about work and household stuff, but the rest of the sleeplessness is that every time I doze, I wake up in a coughing fit. Cough medicine with codeine doesn't help, and I've even tried honey (which helps a bit better than the codeine, at least for a short while).
I need to tell my brain to shut off and let my body rest. I need to kick this for once and for all. Mostly? I need spring.
There are worse problems in the world, and tomorrow is another day. I'll get through it, I always do.
Lunch Lady
Hello Blogland!
I'm back, and I've missed this place. I don't really know why I've been absent for so long, but I chalk it up to a crazy-busy life.
Months ago, I posted about how I'm finally back in the working world, and how much I love my job. After the euphoria of being "back at it", reality and the bitter cold winter set in. Don't get me wrong, I still love my work, it just came with a few challenges that I wasn't expecting.
Did you know, that as the head cook, I have to do a LOT of math? (I'm really not a math person. At all. Just ask my math genius husband). When I applied for this job, I stupidly assumed that I would just create nutritious, yummy lunches for a lot of great kids.
Not so much.
For instance, federal school lunch guidelines have me counting calories for each age group. That means that if I want to include ketchup as a condiment onhot dog turkey frank day, I have to figure out portion sizes and make sure I'm within the calorie range for each age group. I have to serve a certain amount of meat/meat alternative each week, and veggies from several different categories. Not only that, but there's inspection guidelines to follow, figuring out how much food to cook, and ordering from Food Services of America and making sure I'm not over budget.
I'm not complaining. It's just been a huge learning curve that I have to admit, I wasn't quite prepared for.
The best part about my job? Seeing the kids learn and grow through Christ. We have some of the most prayerful, respectful, and kind students that I've ever met. I love the days when I can leave the kitchen and sit with them while they eat the lunch that I've prepared and get to know them. Yesterday, for example, four seventh grade girls taught me a "cup" game and serenaded me. Then, there was the random hug from my kindergarten buddy, Jett, and the sixth grader who told me I was so "nice and cool". Every day, when the pre-schoolers come for lunch, I get greetings of "Hi, Mrs. B.!" or "Hi, Murray's Mom!"
I've been blessed to get to know parents, teachers and the amazing faculty and staff. I've made new friends, and feel lucky to be able to visit the St. Joseph's School environment daily. Tonight we have our annual school fundraiser, the St Joseph Dinner, Dance, and Auction, which I'm a member of two of the committees. It's sure to be an evening of camaraderie, laughter and making new memories.
I know I've been gone for a while, but I hope you'll keep checking back. Stay tuned for more from Murray's Momma.
I'm back, and I've missed this place. I don't really know why I've been absent for so long, but I chalk it up to a crazy-busy life.
Months ago, I posted about how I'm finally back in the working world, and how much I love my job. After the euphoria of being "back at it", reality and the bitter cold winter set in. Don't get me wrong, I still love my work, it just came with a few challenges that I wasn't expecting.
Did you know, that as the head cook, I have to do a LOT of math? (I'm really not a math person. At all. Just ask my math genius husband). When I applied for this job, I stupidly assumed that I would just create nutritious, yummy lunches for a lot of great kids.
Not so much.
For instance, federal school lunch guidelines have me counting calories for each age group. That means that if I want to include ketchup as a condiment on
I'm not complaining. It's just been a huge learning curve that I have to admit, I wasn't quite prepared for.
The best part about my job? Seeing the kids learn and grow through Christ. We have some of the most prayerful, respectful, and kind students that I've ever met. I love the days when I can leave the kitchen and sit with them while they eat the lunch that I've prepared and get to know them. Yesterday, for example, four seventh grade girls taught me a "cup" game and serenaded me. Then, there was the random hug from my kindergarten buddy, Jett, and the sixth grader who told me I was so "nice and cool". Every day, when the pre-schoolers come for lunch, I get greetings of "Hi, Mrs. B.!" or "Hi, Murray's Mom!"
I've been blessed to get to know parents, teachers and the amazing faculty and staff. I've made new friends, and feel lucky to be able to visit the St. Joseph's School environment daily. Tonight we have our annual school fundraiser, the St Joseph Dinner, Dance, and Auction, which I'm a member of two of the committees. It's sure to be an evening of camaraderie, laughter and making new memories.
I know I've been gone for a while, but I hope you'll keep checking back. Stay tuned for more from Murray's Momma.
What God Doesn't Tell You
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" they would ask.
"Oh, a doctor, or a nurse, or a lawyer or a teacher, or maybe a cheerleader," I would respond.
Typical child response, right? It just goes to show that most of the time, we really aren't sure what God has in mind for us.
Because life happens. You go through a million jobs (exaggeration) and years of college (and a ton of money) that just aren't the right fit. Oh yes, there were jobs you loved, like bar tending and serving. But those are high burn-out jobs, and eventually, you realize that those aren't good career choices in which to start a family.
So you switch paths, and become a secretary or sales/executive assistant. This works well, because you have a challenging, satisfying job, and enjoy going to work every day.
But then, life happens - again. Mostly, this time it's the economy. Three layoffs in eighteen months start to wear on your self esteem, even though those "I'm-gently-letting-you-go-because- we're-eliminating-your-position" type bosses tell you that it has nothing to do with you, it's the damn economy, they say, "but, we'll give you the best references."
And so they do. And you look around for the next best thing, but you're so discouraged, and frankly, scared to take another leap into the unknown. After all, you're frustrated. You don't want to go back to work at a mediocre job that you hate, but your choices are limited because that degree just never worked out.
So you make your family and friends miserable and confused and wondering about your state of sanity while you sit on the couch eating Cheetos, watching soaps and sleeping too much.
For two whole years.
But then, you get an inspiration: His name is God. You wake up one day and decide that enough is enough and decide to volunteer at your son's school. You find that volunteering is so much fun and you just can't get enough, so you offer more; as much as you can give.
You're finally getting out and about and feeling better.
One day, you walk into your place of volunteerism and discover a job opening. A dream job, one that you would never have thought of.
So you apply for the job, and you wait. And you pray. And you still volunteer, because it really is fun.
You get an interview, and then another. And still, you wait and you pray. After all, you really want this for your family, but most of all, for yourself. Because if you feel better, so will your family.
And then, the call comes. And you cry happy tears. And jump for joy, and shout out loud. And you say, "I'm blessed to accept the position."
Then you don your hair net, gloves, and apron, take a bunch of classes and get certified in food safety. You don't have to worry about smiling, because you just can't help it when you get to go to work every day.
And that my friends, is how you find your dream job. It has everything to do with God.
No day is perfect, but mine come pretty darn close.
One of these days, I'll post a picture. Hair net and all.
"Oh, a doctor, or a nurse, or a lawyer or a teacher, or maybe a cheerleader," I would respond.
Typical child response, right? It just goes to show that most of the time, we really aren't sure what God has in mind for us.
Because life happens. You go through a million jobs (exaggeration) and years of college (and a ton of money) that just aren't the right fit. Oh yes, there were jobs you loved, like bar tending and serving. But those are high burn-out jobs, and eventually, you realize that those aren't good career choices in which to start a family.
So you switch paths, and become a secretary or sales/executive assistant. This works well, because you have a challenging, satisfying job, and enjoy going to work every day.
But then, life happens - again. Mostly, this time it's the economy. Three layoffs in eighteen months start to wear on your self esteem, even though those "I'm-gently-letting-you-go-because- we're-eliminating-your-position" type bosses tell you that it has nothing to do with you, it's the damn economy, they say, "but, we'll give you the best references."
And so they do. And you look around for the next best thing, but you're so discouraged, and frankly, scared to take another leap into the unknown. After all, you're frustrated. You don't want to go back to work at a mediocre job that you hate, but your choices are limited because that degree just never worked out.
So you make your family and friends miserable and confused and wondering about your state of sanity while you sit on the couch eating Cheetos, watching soaps and sleeping too much.
For two whole years.
But then, you get an inspiration: His name is God. You wake up one day and decide that enough is enough and decide to volunteer at your son's school. You find that volunteering is so much fun and you just can't get enough, so you offer more; as much as you can give.
You're finally getting out and about and feeling better.
One day, you walk into your place of volunteerism and discover a job opening. A dream job, one that you would never have thought of.
So you apply for the job, and you wait. And you pray. And you still volunteer, because it really is fun.
You get an interview, and then another. And still, you wait and you pray. After all, you really want this for your family, but most of all, for yourself. Because if you feel better, so will your family.
And then, the call comes. And you cry happy tears. And jump for joy, and shout out loud. And you say, "I'm blessed to accept the position."
Then you don your hair net, gloves, and apron, take a bunch of classes and get certified in food safety. You don't have to worry about smiling, because you just can't help it when you get to go to work every day.
And that my friends, is how you find your dream job. It has everything to do with God.
No day is perfect, but mine come pretty darn close.
One of these days, I'll post a picture. Hair net and all.
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