September 21, 2009 · 6:00 am

Time To Lock Up The Scissors Again.

Wow.  God is really birthing more in me than just a baby right now.  Just as this tot is growing by the day, I really feel that God is working some really cool things inside me.  Oh how I wish I could disclose all that incredible stuff right now, but, quite frankly, I haven’t the energy.  Not today.  Yes, it takes more energy to share from the deepest parts of me than it does to show you pictures like this.

Barbie horse

Anna loves to role play with her Barbies and their horses.  Of course, it IS her game, and she tells me exactly what my Barbie character should say when I play with her.  Her storyline began to concern me when she suggested that the Barbies pretend their parents were dead.

“Uh, Anna, I don’t like that story.  We’re not playing that,” I told her.

“Well, then.  Their parents are invisible,” she compromised.

I wasn’t certain where this thought pattern was coming from, but I ceded and let her live in Annaville.

We continued to play when I noticed she had gotten creative with the scissors again.  Notice the horse’s mane.  Or lack of mane.

Then, I saw noticed where she had cut one of the Barbie’s bangs.  This just settled the age old question within me of “should I cut bangs or not?” 

Um, not.

To be honest, I don’t LOVE playing Barbies.  Especially, when my Barbie never says the “right things.”  My four year old reminds me it is her game, and subsequently tells me everysingleword to say. 

But, I play anyway. 

I’m hoping that if I play with her now, she’ll come to me later. 

I have to deposit, deposit, deposit into my children.  I’m sure to make a withdrawal down the road and have to say “I was wrong.”  So, I need to invest as much as I can.

So, I become a safe place for her.

To come to me for anything.

And, with anything.

Know what I mean?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to my invisible parents.

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September 18, 2009 · 6:00 am

A Blast From The Past.

JH - airport chaos

Above are the items I retrieved from John Henry’s shorts pockets while going through airport security almost two years ago.  I recommend checking children’s pockets before walking through the metal detector.  This was the same trip where Anna, only moments before, pulled her pants down while walking through.  For no apparent reason. 

Because, she needs no reason.

So friends, you’ve been warned.

Have a great weekend and may your team win.

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September 17, 2009 · 6:00 am

That’s Not What I Signed Up For.

Kris - Dusty

That is not a statement you’ll hear me make regarding my marriage.  You won’t hear me say, “I didn’t sign up for my husband to be gone 5 days a month or 20 days a month.”  “I didn’t sign up for my husband to play golf every week.”  “I didn’t sign up to live hundreds of miles from my family.”

I have heard friends tell me they “didn’t sign up” for whatever changes have occurred in their lives.  Whether it’s a spouse’s new job or simply a new routine. 

I signed up to be married Kris Takle.  Not what he does or doesn’t do.

I signed up for him.  Period.

In the meantime, life happens.  Change is usually inevitable.  Tomorrow may look different from today.  We, as partners in love and marriage, have to adjust.

Because, we are a team.

He needs my support just like I need his. 

Loving Kris Takle.  That’s what I signed up for.

My lover is mine, and I am his.  Song of Solomon 2:16

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September 16, 2009 · 6:00 am

I Was Wrong.

There are times I have to ask one of my children to forgive me.  It’s one of the most important things I can do as their mother.  Like the other day when Anna cut open a bag of dish candy.  In the middle of the bag.  Where there is no hope for closing it without candy spilling out everywhere.  I was upset.  My response was unnecessarily harsh.  And, my usually tough little girl ran to her room in tears.

I was wrong.

I entered her bedroom and held her.  I asked her to forgive me and told her she was the best daughter in the whole wide world.

Then, I told her I was wrong to respond the way I did.

She needed to hear me acknowledge my behavior was wrong as much as she needed to hear me say I’m sorry.

Honestly, I don’t find it difficult admitting my weakness to my children.  I don’t want them to struggle doing the same.   I want them to find it easy to go their heavenly Father and lay down their weaknesses at His feet, so He can show Himself strong in their lives.

Motherhood is not foolproof.  Neither is life.  When we mess up, it’s essential to acknowledge it and make a mends with the person we hurt.  Even if it is your four year old little girl.

It’s not the first time I’ve had to say I was wrong.  And, it’s certain it won’t be my last. 

I’m a believer in telling our children we are wrong when we are, indeed, wrong.  As a matter of fact, I think it’s essential in raising children with a healthy understanding of humility and forgiveness.

Do you struggle saying “I was wrong” to your children?

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September 15, 2009 · 6:00 am

Hormones. For A Season.

Hormones are a funny, unpredictable thing.  Especially, those pregnancy ones. 

You know the ones where you find yourself crying over the most random of things. 

Like misplacing your favorite comfy shorts.  The only ones that fit.

Or, putting your four year old to bed then turning to your husband and saying, “You do know she won’t always be sleeping down the hall from us.  One day, she’ll be all grown up and out on her own.” 

Then, you just start sobbing.

Yeah.  Those hormones.

But, my thoughts and tears of my children growing up are very real.  Truth is, I am loving this season in my life.  I love it so much that if I could pause time, I think I would.  When I first found out I was pregnant, my initial response was “Wow.  I’m starting over with the baby stuff all over again.”  Then, it hit me.  I will blink, and this little one (making me so weepy right now) will be in Kindergarten.

Time doesn’t slow for anyone.  And, I can’t press pause.  There are different seasons in life.  This is mine.  One day my season will look much different.  I won’t be picking up light sabers and Webkins every day and putting them back in their respective places.  Pop Tarts will be a thing of the past.  A little girl won’t make up her own song at bed time and sing it to me.  A little boy won’t wrap his arms around my neck and pull me closer to him. 

My house will be quiet.

But, that little boy and little girl will be fulfilling the call of God in their lives. 

One day that little boy will read the scriptures and become overwhelmed by how great God is like I do.

One day, that little girl will hold her own child in her arms and know exactly what I feel when I kiss her sweet face goodnight. 

They will experience a new season.

I will experience a new season.

And, God will still be at the center of it all.

To everything – turn, turn, turn
There is a season – turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven
– The Byrds

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September 14, 2009 · 6:00 am

The Best Investment.

Some would argue that now is the time to invest in the stock market while price tags are low.  Others would say otherwise.  Kris says it’s a perfect time to purchase an airplane.  I’ll look into my wallet and get right on that.  Real estate has always been a sure bet.  Then, this thing called a bubble deflated. 

Investments in these things can be risky.  Sometimes, they pay largely.  Other times, they drive men to bankruptcy or depression.

But, I know of an investment where you will reap rewards over and over and over again.  It’s investment into people. 

Friendships, to be specific.

Growing up, I invested into friends in Georgia.  I poured into them.  They poured into me.  Even living hundreds of miles away, I still call them, e-mail them, visit them….invest in them. 

They still invest in me.

Because, these friendships matter.

I found it difficult settling into life in Oklahoma for a very long time, because I missed the daily interaction of true, covenant friends.  Then last year, Cindy Beall found my blog (after I had been stalking hers), and said, “Hey, I’m gonna start a little bible study, and I’ve been praying about who to ask to be a part.  Well, you came to mind.  You game?”  Okay, that’s not verbatim, but pretty darn close.  I never laid eyes on Cindy until the day I walked up to her doorstep for that first bible study.  I could have easily declined, and continued on wishing I had friends surrounding me in Oklahoma. 

Could have.

But, I got off my Junior Mint eatin’ booty and went.  Walking through Cindy’s door opened up a whole new world of friendships to me.  I met Deleise, Janna, Jennifer, Christi, Robin M, Robin S, Nicole, Kim, Natalie, and Elizabeth.  We all share a love for following Christ, motherhood, and pure FUN.  Oh, and we all blog except for Elizabeth.  That girl does well to check her e-mail, but you just gotta love her cute, healthy livin’ lovin’ self.

My Georgia and Oklahoma friends pray for me.  They encourage me.  And, they will be at my front door at a moment’s notice.  Even if they have to hop on an airplane to make it happen.

Because, they’ve been my best investment. 

I love them.  They love me.  And, I can’t fathom doing life without any of them.

God created us with a need.  A need for people. 

As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.  Proverbs 17:27

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September 11, 2009 · 6:00 am

Somebody, Please Pass The Geritol.

Earrrrlllly yesterday morning, we had an ultrasound of baby numba three.  I have somehow been labeled a geriatric pregnancy patient, thankyousokindly, so ultrasounds abound galore.  The littlest Takle thought it fun to kick off of my uterus over and over again.  He or she is an energetic one.  I don’t think we make them any other way. 

Which leads me to the 4 year old Takle.  Big brother, self-appointed sheriff of the family, alerted me yesterday that Anna is hitting his first grade friends in carpool.  I called the school to speak with Anna’s teacher who told me she is perfectly fine in her class (sans the panty-less day, of course.)  She did, however, tell me that Anna likes to tell her friends, “My name is _____________” and then fabricate a new name.  Her friends just cackle and call her by her new name.  Anna’s teacher requested she simply go by Anna. 

We instructed Anna on such, and to please, for all that is holy, stop hitting John Henry’s friends.  Or else.  She complied although she was highly disappointed that she could no longer be called “Miley” or “Melly.”

On a sweeter note, Anna completed an “All About Me” poster.  One item read “I am special because ____________________,” and she had to fill in the blank.  I expected a “because God made me” response.  Instead, she finished the sentenced:

“I’m special because my brother protects me.”

He’ll certainly sell her out on hitting his friends.  Because, what’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong.  But he stands with a ready sword to keep her safe.  Well, with a blue light saber for sure. 

Man, I love those kids.  All three of ‘em.

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September 10, 2009 · 6:00 am

How Fragile We Are.

Angela, a friend of mine, posted this on Facebook yesterday:

“Had a young client today age 9 who has cancer, and I had to shave her head.  She will get her wig from Locks of Love within 4 months.  I have thought about her since she left.  It makes you stop and thank God for a healthy child.”

It makes me stop and consider how consumed I can become with things that, at the end of the day, really aren’t so significant. 

How even when one of my children are home sick with a cold, my life stops and centers on him or her. 

How even in our weakness, He is still so very present, and so very strong.

How precious.

How fragile.

How sweet.

Life really is.

Can we all just take a moment out of our day and pray for a little girl most of us have never met?

Father, we lift up this young girl to You.  You know her name.  You even know the number of hairs on her precious, little head.  Touch her body.  Heal her.  Comfort her.  Restore to her health.  In Your Name that is above ALL Names.

Amen.

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September 9, 2009 · 6:00 am

Love. It’s A Battlefield.

John Henry stayed home from school yesterday to recuperate from a cold.  Note:  Guitar Hero does wonders for a six year old under the weather.  Or when you’re simply “not on top of the weather” as I’ve heard my husband say.  Pardon him.  He tends to get American clichés a little confused with….with, I don’t know what. 

Anyhoo.

I walked Anna to the library yesterday morning.  It’s her initial destination before walking to her class.  I stopped by John Henry’s class to inform his teacher he would not be in attendance.  On my way out, I heard one, lone, loud voice belting out, “Why does love always feel like a battlefield!  A battlefield!  A battlefield!” 

I don’t think it comes as a surprise to any of you it was Anna.  None of her classmates joined her anthem.  I scurried straight up to her and told her she should pipe down in the school hallways.  Then, I was relieved I corrected her “butterfield” to “battlefield” only a couple of days prior to her hallway debut.

Long before Jordin Sparks started tearing up the airwaves with her recent hit, Pat Benatar proclaimed “love is a battlefield.”  I have single girlfriends who will say “Amen” to that sentiment.  And, knowing some of their experiences, I tend to agree.  But, once you’re married?

Love can still feel like a battlefield.  It’s just a different battle.  It’s not a battle between husband and wife.  It’s a battle to maintain your marriage.  One in two marriages will end in divorce.  So, you unquestionably have to fight to keep the love alive and the commitment strong.  Even in scriptures Paul proclaims if you marry, you’ll have trouble. 

So, to my married readers, I say FIGHT for your marriage. 

Every.

Single.

Day.

So, when you’re old, gray, going to bed by 8, and excited for the new Dancing With the Stars season(or, perhaps, that’s just Big Mama), you’ll turn and look at your spouse and be glad you did.

And, for those of you thinking, “It’s too late for me”:  Never give up. 

Coming from a girl on a second go ‘round.

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September 8, 2009 · 6:00 am

Picking Up The Mantle

My dad is currently covering a series on the prophet, Elisha.  Here is a guy who had so much anointing in his dead bones that they revived another corpse that had been thrown into his tomb.  (2 Kings 13:21)   That’s kind of a big deal.  I mean, what do you have to do to die and leave this kind of anointing behind?  According to the life of Elisha, you have to serve in another man’s field – the way he did for Elijah.  You have to seek this kind of anointing with your own blood, sweat, and tears the way Elisha did.  And, you have to be willing to pick up the mantle God places on you.  Or, in some cases, pick up the mantle when it’s passed onto you. 

I emphasize “when”, because I see so many men and women in ministry itching to pick up a mantle that hasn’t even been passed to them instead of picking up a mantle that God already placed inside them long ago.  Good examples of “when” are the Joel Osteens, Ed Youngs, and Andy Stanleys of the world who had fathers to pass on their mantle. 

The fact of the matter is, God has given each of us a mantle – a calling.  We can run our entire lives and never pick it up.  God won’t give it to someone else, but He’ll certainly allow someone else to operate in your place.  Someone may wait until the latter years of his life to pick up his mantle.  Another may never pick up hers.  Others, from an early age, will pick theirs up and begin operating in it the way God intended. 

Elisha wasn’t below serving in another man’s field.  He gave his life to doing the work of the Father, even when it made sense to do otherwise.  And, when the mantle fell, he picked it up with obedience and fulfilled the call of God on his life.

What would the scriptures look like had Elisha not been obedient?  What would have that next generation looked like?  It’s a scary thought.

What will this generation look like if we don’t pick up our mantles and operate in the gifts and callings Christ has given us? 

There is a mantle lying on the ground waiting for you to pick it up.  God has given you a gift to use for His Kingdom.  So, when you leave this earth, your anointing remains and affects another generation. 

Have you picked up your mantle?

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