Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Feeling Like a Michigan Winter

Ever feel like you are winter? Let me expound on that thought... We all look forward to spring... we want it to be here, we crave the end of the cabin fever... BUT...

Spring takes yuckiness in order to be successful. In order to have May flowers, we need April showers (or snow). In order to see grass again, we have to have the muddy mess that follows the snow's thaw. Before we see buds on all the trees, we see all the wet, heavy, brown oak leaves matted to the ground (since they waited until snowfall to finally drop, and could not be raked until now).

In my spirit, in my home, in my deepest desires I'm craving spring... newness, freshness, cleanliness, etc. But, the reality is, I don't want to wash all the windows, weed the flower beds, sort through the closests, gut the garage, wash window treatments, start walking, shovel up a winter's worth of dog doo in the yard (yuck!), buy shorts AGAIN, etc. I know that I want to be on the other side of all that, but I don't want to go through it. So... I deem myself a Michigan winter... just not ready to let go and embrace spring... :)

Soon, I promise!!! :)


My parents came to town this weekend and my mom and I had a conversation yesterday about money. I just re-read my "pity-party" post and it was almost comical in light of what was said...

We were discussing the various things in our homes that needed to be updated, and time frames for getting them done, etc. and I told her about a decision Cody and I made last June that has impacted our financial choices since. When it comes to money we spend on ourselves (not that there's a lot) we decided it was more important to spend our time and resources on experiences than on things. That our children would be better people for it, our family would be stronger for it, and God might be more glorified by it. Then I decide to do a kitchen and completely forgot about it... seriously...

What do you think about this plan? In looking back at my childhood, my mind doesn't immediately go to the suck tight, ankle zipper, stone-washed, pair of Guess jeans my mom and dad spent my entire Christmas wad on in 6th grade. I remember camping trips, Cedar Point, mission trips to Mexico, volunteering at the Gospel mission, making forts with dad, etc.

Experiences, not things. As a child I wanted "things" and my parents did their best to provide them for me... but that's not what made me who I am. The "things" are not my touchstone when I relive my past... So what if we're intentional about experiences... what then?

Who needs a new kitchen, right?!?