Hebrews 12

I had to read this scripture a couple days in a row to let it really sink in. It's powerful. Really powerful.

Hebrews 12:1-13 (The Message Bible)

Discipline in a Long-Distance Race

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Father's Son, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with Father—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside Father. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!

In this all-out match against sin, others have suffered far worse than you, to say nothing of what Father's Son went through—all that bloodshed! So don't feel sorry for yourselves. Or have you forgotten how good parents treat children, and that Father regards you as his children?

My dear child, don't shrug off Father's discipline,
but don't be crushed by it either.
It's the child he loves that he disciplines;
the child he embraces, he also corrects.

Father is educating you; that's why you must never drop out. He's treating you as dear children. This trouble you're in isn't punishment; it's training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible Father? We respect our own parents for training and not spoiling us, so why not embrace Father's training so we can truly live? While we were children, our parents did what seemed best to them. But Father is doing what is best for us, training us to live Father's holy best. At the time, discipline isn't much fun. It always feels like it's going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off handsomely, for it's the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with Father.

So don't sit around on your hands! No more dragging your feet! Clear the path for long-distance runners so no one will trip and fall, so no one will step in a hole and sprain an ankle. Help each other out. And run for it!

You might be a photographer when...

1. You change your camera bag into a purse on vacation.
2. Your partner knows what you're talking about when you advise, "Up the shutter speed a bit, could ya? And lighten the exposure too while you're at it."
3. Your children (or friends) expect a picture of them at least a few times daily.
4. You walk into a room or a park and immediately a photo session is formed in your head.
5. You notice the lighting everywhere you go, whether or not you have your camera with you.
6. You save space in your bag for extra batteries over makeup.
7. Your famous last words are, "Just one more picture, I promise that's it!"

Beach

Before London, we were in Dubai. For the 4th time. It's the cheapest place to go when we have visa problems.

It was 110 degrees. The desert isn't very forgiving during summer months. How to beat the heat? Chill at the beach, of course :)

I'm not gonna lie, taking pictures of my sweetheart on the beach makes my heart skip a beat. These pictures will definitely be framed in the near future.

There's something calming about water... when you look off into the distance and the waves slowly melt into the sunset. Somehow you know everything is going to be okay.

When in London, wear your sparkly shoes

We're in London.

I'm in love.

With my husband, and this city :)

We're here for a Hillsong conference. Join in worship with the Hillsong worship team? Yes please! Dance around like crazy madmen praising our Father? I think so! The encouragement we've received is beyond my comprehension. The speakers' messages totally ripped open our hearts and confirmed so much it was unreal. We are blown away.

But we're also drinking in the beauty of the country. The culture, the green grass, the yummy coffee. I keep dreaming that I'm the princess living in these gorgeous fortresses. I also keep dreaming that I'm going to accidentally bump into Prince William and Catherine Middleton. I'm just slightly obsessed with this whole royal wedding stuff. I watched it on TV in Baku, and now here we are, visiting the church where they were married! It's so romantic :)

And you better believe I'm wearing my sparkly shoes. Life's too short for comfortable shoes- we're in london for pete's sake!

Can I move here? Pretty please?

Waiting

Sometimes in life you come to a crossroads.

Waiting, watching, listening for an answer. These things are not easy. Who likes to wait? No one.

Father gives us direction in His perfect timing. (Usually we don't feel like it's perfect.) Sometimes it's only a few steps at a time. We don't always know what's at the end of the tunnel, but He's leading us, and that should be enough to keep us going.

Father, I will follow You.

Seriously amazing books- get them.

I don't usually "tell" people what books to read. I figure Father will lead you to the right books at the right time. But I really can't pass up recommending these books!

This first book, Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years ... and Yours, is for an older audience. I am in a book club with other women studying this book together and it's challenging me, inspiring me, and kicking me in the booty. Here's a little excerpt to get you interested:

"In hidden years, Father is our consistent audience. Others come and go, but only He always sees. Father alone realizes our full potential and comprehends the longings in our souls. When no one else is interested in (let alone impressed by) our capabilities and dreams, Father is still wholeheartedly with fatherly pride shouting His love over us."

This book is great for moms. It talks about how these years of child raising are not wasted time. Rather they are just as much the "main course" as any other season of our life that might seem more "important". Who are we to judge what seasons of our lives are more important than others? Father's Son spent 30 years of His life hidden away, seeking the Father and growing in wisdom and love, and only spent 3 years in the public eye. Good stuff my friends, good stuff.

The next book I picked up at Barnes and Noble while I was in the homeland. I could spend hours upon hours in that store, seriously. I was in heaven looking through all the kids books for Sitora. I finally decided on this one:  The Berenstain Bears Discover God's Creation (Berenstain Bears/Living Lights). Here is the summary from the back cover:

Mama Bear pulls the plug on the TV, and the Bear cubs are upset! What are they going to do now? All it takes is a peek outside for Brother and Sister to see that Father has given them a beautiful world that is far more fun that the TV screen.

This next book- The Princess and the Kiss: A Story of God's Gift of Purity, was given to me by a dear friend while I was visiting home. My eyes well up with tears when I read it to Sitora. What a precious story about purity! I pray Sitora learns at a young age the importance of purity and this book is an asset for me as I'm seeking ways to teach her about it. Here's the summary:

A loving king and queen present their daughter with a gift from Father- her first kiss- to keep or give away. The wise girl waits for the man who is worthy of her precious gift. Where is he and how will she ever find him? The surprising answer in this marvelous parable will touch the heart of a parent and child alike.

The last book I am recommending is a toddler Bible- My First Read-Aloud Bible. I have many Bibles for kids but this by far is my favorite. I also bought this at Barnes and Noble while I was home. I love this Bible because it tells lots of different stories most other children's Bible's don't have. (For example: Elisha and the widow, Gideon, Jeremiah, Nehemiah, Father's Son coming back to see the disciples after raising from the dead, and Father's Spirit coming down on the early believers.)

I hope you buy one of these books (or borrow from someone else) and enjoy them as much as we have!

I must be crazy, right? Part 2

Almost exactly one year ago I wrote this post about my travels alone overseas with Sitora. I stayed in America a few weeks longer than SuperDan so I could spend more time with my family. I flew back to Baku alone with her, for the first time in her short little life. You'd think I'd wise up a bit after a traumatic event like that and never try it again.

Nope. I didn't learn my lesson and I did it again. Back and forth to be exact.

I. am. nuts. crazy. insane. completely and totally insane.

But my family is worth is. (Everybody say "Awwww! How precious!")

The story? Here it is.

My grandfather has been sick for a while now. My heart has been aching over not seeing him. I made the hard decision to fly alone with Sitora last minute so we could go visit. I hardly told a soul I was coming back because I wanted this to be a family-only type of trip. Plus, emotionally I couldn't handle seeing tons of people. I just couldn't. And I know myself and how much I can handle, and I was totally right on with this decision. I barely hung on for this trip. By the end I was desperate to fly home to my husband and some normality in life. So for those of you whom I didn't get to see, I am so terribly sorry. Please do not be angry with me. Considering my circumstances I hope you can understand. Besides, we'll be back again this fall, so I can make up for lost time then :)

On our way to America the flights were pretty dreamy.  In order to get a cheaper flight we needed to have two layovers- one was an overnight stay in a hotel. At first I was worried about stopping in the middle of the trip, but quickly realized it was a blessing in disguise! We were rested and ready for another day of travel across the big Atlantic Ocean the following day.

We were overjoyed to be in America again with the ones we love! Sitora adored playing in grass and snuggling our family members' dogs. We read books at Barnes and Nobles, climbed on playgrounds, devoured delicious American cuisine, and relished time spent with our loves. All in all it was a much-needed vacation for the both of us.

A few days into our trip Sitora started waking up in the middle of the night. I could not console her despite my most compassionate attempts (Do you want some of that string cheese you love from Wisconsin? Do you want to watch cartoons? How about some juice?) After a while I brilliantly decided to just ask her what was wrong. Her response? "I just want to go home, mommy."

You see, "my" home is not necessarily "her" home. "Her" home involves loud crazy traffic, foreign languages being spoken, fresh fruit and veggies from the market, crowded bus and metro rides, strangers pinching her cheeks and offering candy, and the familiar faces she's grown to love and know. The majority of her life has been spent on this side of the globe. This vacation was all too foreign to her, and honestly I could tell she was a bit confused.

Considering all the people she needed to become reacquainted with, she did a great job of re-learning everyone's faces and personalities. She was extremely flexible and friendly. She had her moments, don't get me wrong, but I think she handled a lot for her age. She even decided she'd sing her ABC's and count to 10 in Azeri on command most times I requested it.

But by the time our last few days in America arrived, she was spent. And so was I.

We left for the airport at noon. We boarded the plane at 4:30pm. We flew for 8 hours until we arrived at our first layover destination. We both hardly slept a wink on that flight. It felt like midnight to us, but was really 6:00am local time there. We had a four hour layover, which wasn't so bad because I found a kids play center and ordered a yummy caramel latte. But don't forget the fact that it was midnight to 4am for us during that stretch of time. (Just stay awake, just stay awake. Must not close eyes...)

We started boarding our next flight when I realized our tickets placed us in different rows. I kindly asked the stewardess at the check-in desk if she could arrange for us to be together. (Obviously. My child is two years old. What in the world where they thinking?) Her response? "You'll just have to ask someone to switch seats with you when you board the plane."

Ok peoples. I am a very nice person. Very very very nice. But for the first time in my life, I almost exploded at somebody. The reason I didn't? Probably because I had glazed over eyes and absolutely zero energy left in my system to utter a few words, let alone start a fight. I simply complied and continued boarding.

All of a sudden she came after me and exclaimed, "Why are you bringing that car seat on the plane? Children over two years old are not allowed to sit in a car seat. This flight is completely booked and there is absolutely no room for it." I explained to the stewardess over and over how my daughter had been sitting in a car seat for all of my gazillion flights and there had never been a problem before. She wouldn't budge. I simply had nothing left to give, so again, I complied and handed it over. I muttered to myself, "You're kicking yourself in the foot lady. This carseat keeps my kid under control. You want her screaming her overly exhausted head off the entire flight? Ok then. You asked for it." I then started scheming my "I will never fly with your airline again" angry customer letter email in my half-evaporated brain.

She came back again only seconds later with new tickets. "I thought about it and decided I should change the seats for you. Now you are sitting together."


My thoughts? "Well then. Some customer service after all! I guess I won't write that angry letter. I'm still upset, but I forgive you. I'm a really nice customer, I hope you know that. We paid you big money for these flights. Most people would have been outrageously furious by this point. You are lucky I am who I am lady- count your blessings."

It now feels like 5:00am to us. We are dead. Sooooo dead.

I don't remember much about that flight. It's all a blur. The only things I recall are Sitora and I zonked out in totally random positions in our seats. I also vaguely remember being served orange juice and a cheeseburger. I don't know how we got off that flight- I don't remember walking off. I think an angel was holding my eyelids open. That overnight layover in a hotel from before? Ya, that started sounding pretty good right about then.

Thankfully there was another children's play area at the next airport. We had a three hour layover there and I was beyond dead. The three hours I slept on the plane before were barely enough to keep me alive by this point. There was no way I could sleep during a layover because I had to watch Sitora and our carry-on luggage. (Yes, I was carrying the complete maximum amount of carry-on luggage possible. That's how I roll. And why do I have shoulder pain?)

Thankfully our gate for our next flight was nearby the play center, so we didn't have far to walk. We boarded the plane and the stewards (they were men) let me carry-on the car seat. I was thrilled. Oh drat- how was I supposed to carry my 50 million pounds of carry-on bags plus Sitora in her carseat (on wheels by the way... it's this totally amazing contraption) down three flights of stairs? Come-on people. Stairs are not the way to go for boarding a plane. for anybody. period! Thankfully some charitable soul adopted me as his good deed for the day and carried Sitora all the way down for me.

I don't remember much of the next flight either. It involved much sleeping and serious ear pressure pain near the end. I think my rear end and thighs had also fallen asleep by this point. Way too much of sitting in a weird position. Ouch.

When the plane touched ground in Baku, everyone started cheering. Sitora and I started cheering as well. Mostly with the thoughts of, "Oh yay! The insanity is ending!" We exited the plane, managed down another horrid flight of stairs, hopped on a bus and drove to the customs station where everyone was extremely helpful. Waaaay more helpful than anyone in America was to me in the airports. I'm just stating the facts. It's a great part of living here and I will treasure it always.

When we arrived at customs an Azeri man insisted I go to the front of the line. I was embarrassed and declined his offer. Over and over and over. Finally he started taking my things and basically forced me to the front of the line. I looked up apologetically at everyone, only to find compassion and kindness in their eyes. They too wanted me to cut in front of line because they had pity on me. I was touched. Deeply. This just does not happen in the States.

Immediately an Azeri worker helped me get my luggage on a cart and wheeled us out. We found my wonderful husband right away and he gave the courteous man a generous tip, along with many thank you's and kind words from me.

It was the longest day of my life. I never want to do it again. But because I don't learn lessons very well I'll probably end up doing the same thing again next year.

Tune in next year to the third edition of "I must be crazy, right?" Until then, I'm sure I'll have some more stories to keep you on your toes!