Aguinaldo.

We finished the story together, and it got really quiet. There was a faint sound of a Christmas carol playing across the speakers of the board, but that was it. No one said much, but the smiles on the faces of my 22 spoke volumes. Aguinaldo - a word I will remember for the rest of my life.
Aguinaldo - a Christmas surprise.
My class had a great discussion about the story we had just shared, and then, the day continued on like it always does on Wednesdays. Recess, PE, a math test, and then journal writing. I usually try to journal with them, but today I was helping two students finish up their math tests, was running short on patience, and every time I grabbed a pencil, it was a broken one.

..................

Fast forward 2 hours in the life of me and you would see that I am quietly leaving the library after a team meeting with my arms full of notebooks and papers, and my hands full of highlighters. You would see my eyes light up a the sight of my dear friend and 2nd grade teammate walking toward me. Our hearts are heavy - you can just tell. Because life isn't always fair or right, but both of us know that there is always JOY in the morning, and even in the heaviness of  the day - we're counting on that. We visited quietly and seemed to know exactly what to say to each other without saying anything at all - if that's even possible?
As we entered the office, a beautiful red bag caught both of our eyes. It was a deep red color - like the color of Christmas - and attached to the bag was a tag with the name Murdock beautifully printed across it. Inside, were hot spaghetti noodles, warm sauce, buttered bread, a green salad, and much more. There was a handwritten note expressing so much heartfelt compassion and the desire to give our family a gift of a meal. A meal that was ready to be served as soon as we arrived home. My mouth dropped open and initially I felt my cheeks almost grow red with embarrassment. Thoughts of {what did I post that made someone feel like they needed to help us?} ... {who would do this for me?} ... {why is sharing real life via Facebook make everything so vulnerable?} {Lord, what is this gift about?}
I took the bag back to my room and cleaned off my desk - staring at the beautiful red gift near the door and all I could think of was Aguinaldo. A Christmas surprise.

.........................

I'm very open and honest with my postings - here and on Facebook. In fact, you don't even really have to know our family to "know" us. You've seen every inch of our house, you know our birthdays and even our favorite candy, you've been to almost every kind of gathering we've ever hosted or attended, you have cried with us, laughed with us, and you've even cringed in fear with us through several seasons of the good, the best, the worst, and the ugly beautiful. You people out there that so faithfully follow us are warriors that I know would fight to the ends of the earth for us because somehow through my posts, you "know" us.

Here's the thing though ...

• my honesty and openness can sometimes appear that we are in desperate need of anything and everything - when really, we just need you to say "we love you" ... and probably nothing more
• my willingness to hide very little gives you hope and joy because you realize you're not alone even when you feel you are ...
• my vulnerability is real ... and somehow that makes you feel better about your own lives.
• my words touch a nerve ... making you either love us or hate us ... but are most likely causing you to think about things in a way you probably wouldn't on your own.
• my words are my journal.
• my words are written for others, but they're mostly written for me ...

and ...

• my words are a way that I can feel and see and hear and touch and smell Jesus in real life.

...................................

I grabbed that Christmas colored red bag, my coat, and school keys, and walked toward my car. I could almost taste the goodness that filled it. My heart was full, but somehow felt sad at the same time. Full and sad ... two feelings I think we all experience in abundance this time of year. One minute everything is beautiful and filled with joy, and the next, we don't know which way to turn and everything seems to be on spin cycle. We have so much, but at the same time, we have so little.

I felt for my phone and stared at the touch screen. My finger slid across it, and I typed these simple words:  Are you home?

I waited in the car - sitting in the empty parking lot with tears streaming down my face. This red bag wasn't for me.

10 minutes later, I was in a driveway - leaving that beautiful meal that someone had so generously made for us on the porch of my dear friend. It was a porch that had seen enough sadness for a day - for even a year. It was a porch that needed to have joy in the form of a bag, filled with food, waiting to greet it's owner.

................................

I was given a gift today by someone I barely know. An Aguinaldo. And that gift gave me the opportunity to give something even greater. God is so good like that. He shows up ... and then says - I'm not done yet.

I kept the red bag and put the food in a cooler bag I keep in the back of my car. It is empty now, but it's under our tree. Empty to the naked eye, but so very full. I placed it next to the tree because tonight ... that red bag is going to be filled again to give to someone else. I've attached a tag with numbers down the side. Numbers and a line to write the name of who was blessed by its contents. Number 1 and number 2 are filled. Number 3 ... well, that's going to be a brand new Aguinaldo tomorrow.

............................

It is my hope that you read this, and see Jesus at work. Not me, not my friend, not even a bag - just Jesus using real life to spread JOY where it's needed most.

a team.

Dear Echo Storm Cougars,

Today was the one of your first meets of the season in 2014. It was warm. Almost too warm for April, but none of us complained. You're a part of a really great group of kids. You're a part of a team. It's a different kind of team than you've ever been a part of really, because you don't really work together to make any great plays or score a winning goal or touchdowns, and there isn't a final score for the group at this age, but regardless of any of that, you're a team of kids that are trying to figure out what sports and competition are all about in a healthy, friendly, and happy sort of way.

I have never been a part of a track team. I don' like to run, my legs have no spring in them to jump anywhere except away from mice, and when it comes to throwing, I definitely have to plead guilty to throwing like a girl. I wish I had some advice to give or some mental strategy that might possibly help you at the ages of 5-10 as you run around a track and hurl yourself into a pit of sand, but all I've got is this camera and maybe a pom-pom in my back pocket. We parents that stand along the sidelines to cheer you on and give you high-fives to the best of our abilities just to let you know that we're proud of you, and deep inside I think we're all wishing and praying that life could just stay this simple for forever.

You've got a great coach. He gives you encouragement, hope, and excitement for just having fun, and most importantly he believes in you. Your parents and friends and teachers believe in you too. You don't realize it now, but in a few years, you're going to wish sports were this simple. You're going to wish that it was more about putting your hands in, running your little legs off, and then maybe, if you're lucky, going for pizza after the last race. My hope is that somehow, someway, even as the pressures for performance change, you'll still be this excited about the simplest of things like team warm ups and the team send-off to your races around the track.

 I pray from the depths of my soul that you'll cheer for each other and clap and scream from now until forever. That you'll just be happy that your friend made it over the finish line, and hat you won't get angry, that you won't insult, that you won't try to out-do, and that you won't be jealous.

Because something changes inside of us when we're on this kind of team. A team where you're together, but where it's really a lot about how and what you do as an individual that matters most. The competition gets more about the victory than it does about the fun. And those people that you call your friends that are on the same team as you - wearing the same uniform and the same color shoes - well, they want to be the best. You want to be the best.  And suddenly there is this competitive nature that comes out in full force that changes everything. They'll tell you that they really do want you to do to well, but it may be that they also secretly want you to fail because they want to be the one to win.

We've all got it in us - that piece of our heart that wants to be really good at something. That piece of our soul that wants to be the best.

And even as you race into adulthood, you'll find that it's hard to lose. It's hard to be the one that still cheers and cheers even when no one seems to be cheering for you, and it's even harder to want to keep going when you never seem to get it right.

There will be times when you'll take the lead, and there will be times when you may even fall flat on your face, but through it all, just keep your mind in a place where you can come back to this. Moments where you can remember how much fun you had racing around a track in Pendleton - where people were cheering for everyone and no one cared which team you were on.

A place where the sun started to set and it got a little bit cooler, but no one was trying to out-do, out-shine, out-anything. The goal was to simply do your best and pray that everyone else was doing their best too.

No one was questioning if you gave it your all. No one was watching to see if your eyes ever wandered off of the finish line (the prize). No one worried and everyone was cheering.

You're going to be adults in just a few short years. You're going to be in different sorts of races. Races to the top of a ladder in a business. Races to the top of a committee, or board, or even  a team of co-workers. Races that whisper to your soul that you have to be the best and that it's worth anything and everything to win. Don't let any of it fool you.

You don't have to prove yourself to anyone but God.  You don't have to be the best, or that fastest, or the strongest to be used for His glory. And you don't have to try so hard for something that you practically faint at the end - finishing with nothing but exhaustion. You don't have to be the person everyone wants you to be, you just need to be the person God made you to be. And the most comforting part about that is, He just wants you to run. We all do. And win or lose, you'll have run for all the right reasons.

Cheering you on for the rest of your life, 

Lindsay & all the rest of your fans too

Psalm 34:8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see— how good God is. Blessed are you who run to him.

Hebrews 12 1-3 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 Jesus, 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 God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. 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!

P.S.
My beautiful boys, you make this mama that doesn't run feel like a runner in my soul and I will always, always be grateful for that. Always.

when you were nine.

 Dear Mason,

We all watch you in a bit of awe. We always have. You are fast on your feet, you have strength that comes from deep within inside of your soul, and you're scared of very little. You're nine and yet, you're so much more than nine at the same time.

You test limits. You watch carefully. You push buttons. You don't give in or give up. Ever.

You are admired at age nine more than some are even thought of during the span of their entire life. And the funny thing is, you often doubt it.

You doubt your ability to do things in a way that shows you are a perfectionist just like someone else I know. You don't want to do anything you might fail at. You don't want to show weakness to anyone. You don't want to stand out, but at the same time without intentionally trying, you do.

You pull at the heart of your mama and the rest of your world with your eyes, with your smile, with your determination, with your lack of giving anything but 100% ... even if it's killing you inside.

Sometimes you even pretend you don't need help. You appear to have everything under control. You tackle things that don't always need tackling just to prove a point. And you definitely don't like to be wrong.

You don't rest very often. You never have. You are on the go from the minute you wake up until you lay your head down ... and within seconds, sleep finds you. You appreciate a good nights sleep, but love mornings.

You watch the world go by and I know, without a doubt, you are making this world better just by being in it. You are making my world better just by giving me a reflection of myself - even at your worst. I look at you, and I see myself. I see the person that everyone loves, but the person that has a hard time loving themselves truly and deeply - especially when they mess up or fail or let someone down. I see the people-pleaser who wants the best for everyone around them - sometimes at the expense of yourself.

I see the eyes that twinkle with something special. I see your love of life and I can only hope that through it all - you will see that you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. You're alive, you're living, and you're trusting in a God that you can't always feel or see, but you know is there. You're shining in a dirty and dusty world brighter than you even realize.

So Mason, my nine year old workaholic, stubborn, hard-headed, strong-willed son that loves to bring joy to the lives of others by helping and doing ... remember that when it comes down to knowing and feeling that you're worth something - you are.

You are a treasure and gift straight from God ... and His approval is all you will ever need. Enter His gates with thanksgiving in your heart and the rest of the world and everything in it will fade away.

You are enough - just as you are.

With thankfulness of who you are now and who you are becoming,

Mom

a branding iron.

There was this time in my life when I'm certain the only reason I knew what a branding iron was, was because of one of the various westerns my sister and I would watch on Saturday mornings as kids. The Rifleman, Bonanza, Big Valley, and Gunsmoke seemed to do it all for us. The more I think about it, I'm not really certain that there were branding irons on any of those shows, but if there were, that is where I saw them for the first time.

Approximately 30 years later and 5,428 episodes of any & all westerns that I could find on cable, I have found myself with my own branding iron (several in fact) - which are most often found in the hands of my very own cowboy that doesn't brand anything lightly.

When I watch him with a branding iron, it all makes sense. You see, when you're holding that iron in your hand, it means you have something worth owning and claiming with pride. It's a tool that shouts from a distance that you have raised some calves you're proud of. You want them to have your signature for life.

You have been entrusted with much, but at the same time, you know that to whom much is given, much is required and this task of raising cattle, well it's much more than just signing on a dotted line and walking away after putting in your time for a few months. It's a lifestyle. It's day in and day out - in the pouring down rain, on the windiest of days, and even when they're not in the pen directly below the house - where these animals you've branded with your signature require nothing less than the best of you.

I've also learned that even when you're surrounded by the best of help and the best of friends, if it's your branding, you are most likely the one with the iron in your hand. Everyone around you shuffles and hustles and gives all the strength they can muster up just for you. They value your branding day almost as much as you do, but in a different sort of way, and when it comes down to who holds the heat and gives the orders, well ... the 'boss' usually wins.

You know right where the iron goes. You know if it's on the left or the right and how high or low you need to go. You know how hard to push and you know exactly when to let go. You've learned that it's easier to be the one holding the iron, and everyone else agrees with you.

Most often from behind the lens of my camera, I've learned and experienced so much about branding irons and their power when heated that I can almost smell the singe, and hear the bawling just by looking at a picture. I can feel the heat, and taste the smoke and suddenly, I realize that this isn't a western on TV anymore, this is my life, this is my cowboy, and this is our signature that can't be erased.

Your Love Never Fails ...

There is this song that my family loves. 

It speaks so much truth about life & death ... and that we have nothing to fear because of God's great love.

I believe the words were the cry of our hearts as we said goodbye to Papa Roy on that beautiful day last spring.

Higher than the mountains that I face.

Stronger than the power of the grave.

Constant through the trial and the change.

One thing remains.

Yes, One thing remains.

Your love never fails ...

it never gives up ...

it never runs out on me.

Your love never fails ...

it never gives up ...

it never runs out on me.

On and on and on and on it goes.

It overwhelms,

And satisfies my soul.

And I never ever have to be afraid

Because One thing remains.

In death ...

in life ...

I'm confident and covered by the power of Your great love.

My debt is paid ...

and there is nothing that can separate my heart from Your great love.

Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.

Your love ... never ... fails.