April 15, 2010
Little Splinters Hurt.
Anna loves to climb our wooden fence. Unfortunately, splinters are likely when she grabs the fence with her small, tender hands. She knows this. But sometimes, the reward outweighs the risk, so she climbs away. When she came inside from our backyard yesterday with tears streaming down her face, I knew. She climbed the fence. And, she had the splinters in her hand to prove it.
“Get them out, Mom!” she wailed. “They hurt so badly!”
Isn’t it funny how something so tiny can cause so much pain and discomfort? We want it out right then, don’t we? We are always quick to respond to our physical well-being.
Yet, when something seemingly small and painful enters our spirit, we don’t always work to get it out right away. We think we can continue to function and pretend it’s not there. It might be jealousy. Discontentment. Bitterness. Pride.
Our Words.
Our Thoughts.
To name a few.
But these seemingly small things can cause great damage to our spirits. They can even cause damage to those around us. The Song of Solomon tells us that it’s “the little foxes that spoil the vine.” So, why do we think we can compartmentalize those little things and shove them in a drawer as though they will not affect us?
We really can’t. Because, those splinters will show themselves whether we want them to or not.
Instead, we have to get out the tweezers and prod it, poke it, and pull at it until it’s no longer infecting us. We have to get it out.
It might hurt a little when we pull the splinter out. But, oh the relief once we do.
I tend to ask God, “What in me is not of You?” Then? God and I deal with it. Together.
Annnndddd, we do this often. Just the same, I know I haven’t relieved Anna Takle of her last splinter. And, when she runs to me crying, “Get it out,” I will. Then, I will hold her and let her rest in my arms. Don’t you think our heavenly Father does the same?
April 14, 2010
She’s A Fly Girl Who Loves Her Country.
Meet Beth Ruby.
She’s my super cool, brave friend serving in the Air Force. Oh, and she’s pretty much the smartest chick I know, too. She wrote this post a while back, and I asked her permission to post it here. Want to know why I and so many others are proud to call her friend? Well, just read why she serves our country.
Guest Blog: Beth Ruby
“Why I Serve”
I have been asked numerous times by friends, family, and strangers why I chose military service. I always answered this question without thought; a sort of conditioned response that contained a very mediocre answer. I always thought that I wanted to serve to protect our freedoms, and because I wanted to be in the world’s greatest Air Force. While these reasons are worthwhile, they are not truly why I am called to serve. I gave these reasons because that is what everyone else says. The real reason, however simple, just became clear to me tonight as I watched footage from World War II.
In the not too distant past, America was called into a war of nations to protect the security and freedom of millions of citizens, both foreign and domestic. Fascist dictators were spreading their evil empires across continents. When America entered World War II, it was not to simply lend a hand. We knew that an outright defeat of these regimes was essential to the continued prosperity of every nation. The urgency and importance of this war was realized by almost all American citizens. Men set aside their goals and ambitions, and volunteered to fight; others were drafted to serve. Either way, these men were torn from their families, their careers, and every bit of comfort they enjoyed in America. They were thrown into one of the bloodiest and most devastating wars in history, and without hesitation, they fought and died. On the home front, every citizen gave up luxuries to support the war efforts. Items were rationed, women went to factories to work, and hundreds of families got letters each day explaining their loved one was killed in action.
The average American today has no concept of the sacrifices made by every person that was alive during those times. Only the eldest members of our society witnessed the extreme loss and suffering that took place during World War II. Sadly, the veterans that fought in World War II are nearing the end of their lives, and soon they will be only memories.
Not too long after World War II, America was forced to once again stop the spread of evil in both Korea and Vietnam. American citizens were torn from the comforts of home and whatever plans they had made for their lives. In both conflicts, these brave Americans were fighting with their hands tied. We sent them there to win, but did not give them the support they needed to do so. Thousands of Soldiers, Marines, Sailors, and Airmen died in these conflicts. Many others were taken prisoner, or were never accounted for. For hundreds of military members, returning from Vietnam was almost as difficult as fighting in country. Some have said it was even more painful. Unlike World War II, our fighters did not return to a grateful nation as heroes, they returned to quite a substantial number of protestors. Some of these protestors spat on them and called them “baby killers.”
Now that brings me to today. I am very grateful that I was born an American, and I am even more grateful for the brave men and women that came before me that made being an American so great. We are currently fighting in a very controversial war on terror, and American men and women are dying every day in service to our country. Just like in Vietnam, we are fighting a war that is not fully supported, and unlike World War II, our actions are governed more by public opinion than by public good. Americans sacrifice nothing in modern warfare. We still get to pump as much gas as we want into our Hummers, and it is completely cool to bash whatever leadership you want in the name of free speech. This is all fine, until you cross the line. In my opinion, you cross the line the moment you bash or blame the military. Remember that the San Franciscan sipping a latte has as much influence on foreign policy a the soldier in a hole in Iraq.
Finally, I have arrived at the reason why I chose to serve. Contrary to popular expression, I will not say that I serve to protect the rights of the very protestors that bash the military. This reason is very frequently used, but it carries little value to me personally. I would love to see the protestors try to hug a terrorist and use their infinite wisdom and logic to out reason a radical belief system. The real reason I chose to serve is simply to say thank you. Thank you to the millions of men and women who gave everything to give me something. No amount of words or gifts could ever convey my profound appreciation for those that fought before me. Hollywood has done a pretty good job of depicting some of the most memorable war stories. However, I do not consider my enjoyment of a movie as a sincere token of gratitude for the heroes depicted in it. Personally, the only possible way to express my thanks is by service. Although I am just one person, I am joining a great tradition, and a great symbol. The military is a group of individuals that collectively symbolize the very essence of freedom. I am about to begin a new course of training as an officer in the United States Air Force, where I will carry on and always remember the legacies of the heroes that came before me.
Thank you to all veterans, prisoners of war, those missing in action, Airmen, Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Coasties, Reservists, Guardsmen, families of the military, civil servants, and every American that supports men and women in uniform!
Thank YOU Beth Ruby.
April 13, 2010
Grace For the Season.
What was I thinking? I mean, starting all over again with the baby stuff? The sleepless nights, the diapers that require hazmat suits and masks, the feedings….by hand?
I was thinking that God wanted a Mr. Jett Takle to be born into His Kingdom. And, I know that God already knew him long, long ago.
I’ll admit I had moments throughout my pregnancy where the thought of enduring this season again seemed overwhelming. Shoot, there are moments at 2:00AM that I feel those same overwhelming thoughts now. Will I ever blog again? Will I ever sleep again? Will I ever eat slowly again, because I have all the time in the world? But, I know it’s just a season.
My sweet friend, Cindy Beall, sent me this message when I was in the hospital with Jett:
“God has given you the grace you need for this season. You are fully equipped as a child of the King to accomplish what He wants you to.”
My response to Mrs. Beall was simply, “I receive that.”
The truth is you can receive that, too. No matter what season of life you are in. No matter where God has you. He will give you the grace you need for your season. He will equip you to accomplish what He wants you to. Do you get that? Do you get that God wants to use you for His glory no matter what season you are in?
So, even when I am patting the back of my amazing baby boy…..
Even when I’m resting my cheek on his sweet smelling head….
Even when I’m wiping the sleep from my eyes at 2:00AM….
I will remember that God has given me the grace for this season. And, I will soak up every minute of it. Because, I will blink my eyes, and it will all be over.
April 12, 2010
What’s Going On?
Thank you, Marvin Gaye. I’m sure you’ve all been wondering the same, no? Well, I’ve been a bit busy. Well, not necessarily busy in the days leading up to childbirth. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to reach the keyboard due to the protrusion known as my then very pregnant belly. Then, on March 22nd, this guy entered the world.
That’s Jett Kristian Takle, weighing in at 8lbs. 15oz and measuring 20 inches long. Such a lightweight.
John Henry and Anna were very excited to meet the little guy. But, Kris and I quickly realized that we did not prepare them for things like, well, breastfeeding.
John Henry: “So, you just put food on there, and he licks it off?”
Anna: “Can try some of your milk?”
Loverly.
Now that we are past the 21 questions of “he came out HOW” and “what’s wrong with his belly button,” we are adjusting nicely. Big sister, especially, loves to help with EVERYTHING.
And, both love to hold him.
We’re pretty sure Jett loves them, too.
We are blessed. Sleep-deprived, but blessed.
It’s good to be writing again. I’ve missed y’all.
March 13, 2010
Sweetly Broken.
Pregnancy means waking up to pee every hour on the hour. When I woke up at 4:00 am, I just couldn’t drift back off into sleepy town. It happens often these days. It’s usually because of my athlete in training or my mind running ramped of things I need to accomplish. Then, there are times I just wake up and pray. I pray for my children. I pray for Kris. I pray for people in need of healing. I just pray.
It’s easy, especially in this stage of my journey carrying a child, to become self-focused. I still read scriptures. I’m still very aware of God’s presence in my life. But, I can still focus much too much on wanting this baby-carrying journey to end. So, when God centers me again, I want to fall down at the cross and thank Him for it. He does it for me often. He did it again at 4:00 am.
I made a little delivery room playlist on my iPod. The first song on that playlist is Jeremy Riddle’s “Sweetly Broken.” I haven’t been able to get these lyrics out of my head since my little wake-up call:
At the cross You beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered
I’m so thankful for a Father who continues to beckon me, even when I become self-consumed. I’m so thankful that He allows me to surrender my stuff to Him – sometimes the same stuff more than once or ten times. I’m so thankful I’m in love with Him.
And, that He first loved me.
Sweetly broken. That’s me today.
March 9, 2010
Aunt Kate Talks With Unknown Teeth.
I know alla y’all know Big Mama by now. Do you remember her 94 year old sister, Kate? Here she is.
Well, Aunt Kate fell and broke her sweet, little hip. She is having surgery this morning. According to my momma, she has not lost her ability to “talk up a storm.” As a matter of fact, when the good doctor asked her if her teeth belonged to her, she cleverly pointed to a couple that did. Then, added while pointing to other various teeth, “Now, I don’t know who that one belongs to, or that one, or that one….”
There is only one Aunt Kate. And, one Big Mama. I love them both.
Say a prayer for Aunt Kate today. And, pray for Big Mama who will endure her endless gabbing. Because, she will not leave her side.
Love y’all. Mean it.
March 8, 2010
Laugh Out Loud.
I laugh a lot. I laugh out loud a lot. And, I laugh loudly.
It’s true. You can ask anyone who knows me well. I really can’t help it. I’ve asked Kris if my loud laugh embarrasses him. He kindly tells me it’s one of the things he loves about me.
That’s a good thing. Because, he makes me laugh every day we are together.
We can even laugh about things that most married couples wouldn’t laugh about. Like his past relationships….and sometimes, even my divorce.
I’ll tease about things I lost in the divorce. Like a CD or some other random item. “Yep,” I’ll say, “Lost that in the divorce.”
Last night, he made me laugh again.
Me: (folding laundry) “Ya know, I used to iron Bryan’s golf shirts, even some of his t-shirts.”
Kris: “Did you lose that in the divorce?”
We should really take our act on the road. Like Sonny and Cher.
Or, I guess, not.
Life is much too short to not truly enjoy even the smallest of moments. To laugh out loud. To laugh at oneself. It can be easy to let the stresses of daily life overtake these moments.
Don’t let them. Scripture tells us that a merry heart does us good like medicine. (Proverbs 17:22) What does medicine do? It comforts. It heals. It prevents our hurts from getting worse.
Don’t let worry, fear, stress, or anger plague your life. Let your heart be merry. We can’t control everything that happens to us, but we can control how we react to them. If we choose to laugh, we’ll find life much more enjoyable (and more enjoyable to be around.)
We can also find in Proverbs 15:13 that “a happy heart makes the face cheerful.” And, that is something you’ll never find in those expensive facial creams. So, laugh more. And, save yourself some money with Oil of Olay. My momma swears by that stuff….and by the laughs my dad has consistently provided her the past thirty-seven years.
February 26, 2010
These Are Things Money Can’t Buy.
If you’re tired of reading about how sweet my seven year old is, feel free to click the “x” in the top right-hand corner. But, I just had to record this day with him.
I was completely exhausted yesterday due to one little Jett Takle preparing for the 2028 Winter Olympics inside my belly the night before. But, I wasn’t going to dare miss out on watching John Henry receive his Servant Leadership Award yesterday afternoon at school.
When I told him he was going to be receiving this award, he responded, “Wow! That’s the award for putting others first!”
By the way, Anna’s expression in the background of the pic just makes me laugh. Sweet Anna Takle, you would definitely get the award for “Most Artistic in Fashion” or “Most Social” or “Most Likely To Make Her Mother Laugh.”
Proud, but still so stinkin’ tired when we got home, John Henry gave me a letter.
Dear Mom I hope you are ok. You are the best mom ever. I can not beleve your my mom. I am going to let you chose what you want to eat if we go out to a restront. If Dad is flying I will pertect (protect) you. I am glad you are my mom. You chose the right man. You chose Chris. From John Henry
*Disclaimer: He is referring to Kris….not some other Chris. Thought I should clarify before this blog lost its family rating.
What is in a seven year old to acknowledge that I chose Kris? To say, “You chose the right man?”
At the beginning of the school year, John Henry needed some answers about why he has two dads. I explained the best I could so he would understand. In the back of my mind, I’ve always wondered if he would one day struggle with the fact that he has two dads and his siblings have one.
But, in letters like this, I see a young man who is thankful that Kris is in his life. I see two dads who love him so sweetly. And, I see a Heavenly Father who has never let him down.
And, that is redemption.












