How I was looking really scared in this one.

How I had an IV in my arm in this one and how I had to have oxygen and lay a certain way for the baby’s heart rate.

And then I showed them this one and we talked about how I looked so different just a few minutes later.  How, even though I was still in pain, the IV was still in place, I have a look of relief, joy, and absolute love all over me.  How I sacrifice so willingly for them.  How much I love them.

And we talked about expectations.  The feeling of entitlement that we all get.  That more and more and more is somehow owed to us.  When really it’s not.  When really all that we should have is gratefulness.  And respect.  And honor.  Because most of the time we don’t see the behind the scenes of the people around us.  Loving us.

We don’t see how messy, painful, and rewarding love can be.

It was his alone to make.  His Father was listening.  And welcoming.

The days of a year passed.  Maybe more.  He wanted everyone to know.

The day was chosen.  And special.

Where we gathered with family.

Where his daddy had the privilege.

Where the water was cold, the decision was honest, the love was warm.

Where the smiles were sweet.

Where some of his biggest supporters were some of the smallest in attendance.

And where his path is just beginning.

Where the path he’ll walk is not one he’ll take alone.

Lord, I bring all of my mud and dirt and filth to You.  And I ask you to wash it clean.

Baby is sick.  He cries when he’s sick.  Makes me realize just how much he doesn’t cry all the rest of the time.  I can’t commit to the time it takes to actually put together a decent post, because guaranteed he’ll be crying again.  And he’s not really ill – just a cold.  So I shouldn’t complain.  Hence, my silence.

I’ve had yet another Top 10 Church moment and I don’t feel like I can or should talk about it.  But I’m drained from the stress and emotional upheaval it’s brought to my heart.  My most recent prayer is that He’ll fix it right.  Just the way it should be – whatever that is.  No matter how much I worry that humans have completely missed the mark.  And they have.  See, I hate it when other people do that.  Tell you just enough to make you want to hear the story, but then tell you they can’t.  It’s pointless and frustrating.  Hence, my silence.

I’m still going through a “I don’t have friends and nobody likes me” slump.  My friend Megan talked about it the other day right after I’d had yet another breakdown over the exact same issue.  The problem is I do have close friends but we don’t live anywhere near each other.  And where I live I can’t seem to make friends.  No matter how much I offer to have you over or come hang out at your house – it just flops.  Every single time.  And I overthink why I’m not a good enough friend.  But I’m not supposed to talk about that.  Hence, my silence.

This week I’m in a discontentment funk.  My blue period.  Where I worry about what curriculum to get and wonder how we’ll pay for it.  Where I see everybody talk about how they don’t have any money and yet see them go on vacations.  Where I look at other people’s houses and see where mine is lacking.  Where it all comes down to money.  Again.  The fine stupid line where I could be in a heckofalot worse situations.  Where I’m one of the richest majority of the people on earth.  And yet I still sit looking at others and what they have.  And I grumble.  And complain.  Even as the weed that I didn’t ask for, nor control, grows up over me to shelter me from the scorching heat. And therein lies the problem.  I want the patience of Job.  I want the accolades of Noah.  But I have the attitude of Jonah.

I don’t have an “everything’s alright now” ending tonight.  Partly because it’s night.  And I need the sunshine to feel the new mercies.  I’ve been waiting for something nice to say and it’s been a few days.  So I figured I’d let you in on why my blog is so picturey and quiet.  Why my Facebook page is more boring than quippy.  And why I don’t really want to talk about it, I just want to get over it.  Usually unblocking my complainingness gets me over my silence slump and back into the real world.  Just a listening ear, it always helps, right?

Tonight I was trying to get geared up to draft some of my review posts for BlogHer and Crystal Light that I have coming up (be sure to check back – I’m giving away $100!)  Anyway, I sign up for these things because it’s fun, I get free stuff, I get to write, and I get paid for doing it all.  Then I get to tell y’all what I think about the product AND give something back to you!  But then when it gets down to the nitty gritty and I have to actually formulate my thoughts for a purpose other than just random drivel (which is what I’d call this) I freeze up.  Get all scared.  Stare at a blank screen and procrastinate.  So I chatted Melissa at A Familiar Path and asked her to help me out.  She did.  She always does, but not ever quite in the way I would expect.  For instance, our chat ended up on her blog for all the internets to see.  It’s somethin’ else, I tell ya.  You might as well go look and see what all the fuss is about.  Besides, she reveals yet another one of her ridiculous quirks.

I did not find this:

I did not then go and get a camera to document the mess.  Not me.

I didn’t then decide to get my handy 6-in-one and scrape all of that {whatever it was} off the floor.  And then mop.  And then vacuum the coils on the backside of the fridge.  And even wipe the wall.

I did not then take another “after” picture for posterity (or to redeem myself – whichever).

I did not then decide to pull out the oven and tackle it’s greasy goodness too.  In the same day.

Nuh-uh.  I wouldn’t do those things.

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.