Monthly Archives: September 2012

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The Writing on the Wall

I woke up this morning with a brilliant idea.  The boys were going to have breakfast I thought.  The girls might as well go have breakfast too.  I relayed my idea to Jason who reminded me that one of our daughters is not a morning person.  It would be perfect I rebuffed.

With a little persuasion...well a lot of persuasion,I got both girls in the car and we were off.  We had strawberry and cream cheese croissants and split a chocolate pastry too.  I grinned in victory as the girls wandered over to the painted- black chalkboard wall and basket filled with colored chalk.

For ten minutes they drew.  Curlicues and hearts started to fill the wall as my heart began to fill with gladness and pride.  I took pictures with my phone preserving such a sweet moment.

As we pulled in the driveway I reminded the girls that their rooms and bathroom needed to be cleaned before turning on TV or engaging in any other form of entertainment. I was met with little resistance. But there was a missing ipod and then an attempt on my part to be playful and before I knew it the morning had turned sour.

I had come to see the writing on the wall.

Warned that encroaching on the morning might not go well, an unpleasant interaction had now ensued.

I had tried so hard.

I often do.  I love my children so much that I make a Herculean effort to spend time with them, make them happy and help them be successful.  I encourage them to grow in their relationship with God and attempt to make their lives "perfect".

But as it says in Daniel 5:27,

You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.

Surely you remember this story.  "MENE, MENE TEKEL, PARSIN"  These were the words that mysteriously appeared written on the wall by the fingers of a human hand as King Belshazzar gave a great banquet for a thousand of his nobles.

It was the perfect party that ended in doom.

I throw parties that start and end in that same way.  I often follow those parties with a party of another kind; a pity party.

I'm unappreciated.  They don't get it.  Am I just being moody?  What can I do to be a better parent?

The story in chapter five of Daniel is pretty depressing but it comes with a great lesson.  In fear from the writing on the wall, Daniel is summoned being recognized as one with great insight and wisdom.

I'm thankful for the insight that frequently comes to me reminding me that alone I'm insufficient.  And it's ok. I'm reminded time and time again that it is not in my power to create the perfect childhood for my kids.  I can not make myself into Super Mom.  Sometimes I mess up just like King B.- ROYALLY.  I try.  I love. But I also falter and fail.

I am not made to do this thing called "motherhood" on my own.

I have a husband so graciously given to me who is a sounding board and rock; who soothes my aching soul when I feel as if I've messed up everything.

I have friends who are sharing joys, but are also in the trenches with me.

There are ladies, sages with wisdom, who can help me through- not because they were the perfect parents.  They can help me because they've been there.

And most assuredly, God is ever before me.  He's reminding me that I'm not the perfect mom and that he never asked me to be.  He's reminding me that any inadequacy I have is just extra room for Him to work.

None of us are alone.

Despite the minor doom, I can say that I'm thankful for the breakfast lesson.

And for the writing on the wall.

-A picture of me

I'd love to hear from you in comments or email- kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

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written by Ann Gattie

My first "real" job after college was with Southwest Airlines. I was 21 years old and a flight attendant (AKA stewardess, princess on a plane, sky goddess).

I spent 6 weeks in training to learn all about in-flight operations, safety precautions, CPR training and most importantly...makeup application, hairstyle coaching and wardrobe consultation.

We spent TWO days with beauty consultants discussing the skin tone color pallets, how to apply fake eyelashes and which undergarments are the most figure flattering. My hair was cut and colored, my lips were the perfect shade of red and my cheeks were sore from all of the smiling.

Upon graduation, we all received our personalized golden wings. I held my head high and kept thinking about all the great plans I had in mind. I received my first assignment "Report to your supervisor at Chicago Midway".

On September 11, 2001, I packed my bags, kissed my friends and family goodbye and set out on the new adventure. En route from Dallas to Chicago, we were diverted to Baltimore, Maryland. The pilots on our flight told us to "sit down, shut up and call them if anything looked out of place". As we descended into Baltimore and saw smoke in the sky, we knew something was wrong.  After the passengers deplaned, we walked into the terminal and saw the news...this was my 9/11. The smoke was from American Airlines flight #77 at the Pentagon, 40 miles away from Baltimore.

I spent the next 4 days in a hotel near the BWI airport. I laid in bed crying. I prayed. I cried and prayed some more. I had never seen devastation or an entire nation grieve like this. When I finally left my hotel room, strangers stopped me to ask "will you still fly?", "are you scared?", "what are you planning on doing next?"

It never crossed my mind to stop what I had planned. I was steadfast and not willing to skip a beat with my new career. Terrorists weren't going to scare me!

My plans were to keep my hair long and blonde, my teeth bright and white, my waistline small and to have as much fun as humanly possible! For the next 10 months, I sashayed through the airplane aisle, I performed countless safety demonstrations, comforted frightened flyers and explored new cities. I enjoyed a winter storm in New York, warm sunny beaches in Florida, a hot air balloon ride in New Mexico, fresh seafood in California and the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City.

In July 2002, after feeling sick for a few weeks, I flew home to Texas to see my family. I thought I had a sinus infection and was feeling a little homesick. A big dose of TLC from my "Bebe" and "Papa" would cure anything that ails me. My sweet "Papa" picked me up from DFW and drove me 2 hours home. That night, I started coughing up blood. I was too weak to stand or walk and labored just to breathe.

My grandparents took me to the local clinic in my hometown. An x-ray of my lungs showed lots of blood and fluids...but still no answers or diagnosis. We went to the ER at Scott & White in Temple.  There were lots of tests, lots of questions and even more confusion. Could it be pneumonia? Tuberculosis?

I don't remember much from the following days or weeks in ICU.  While I was "asleep", there were more tests, biopsies, blood transfusions, chest tubes and an intebator. The diagnosis was a rare incurable autoimmune disease, Wegener's Granulomatosis. A disease that affects the sinuses, lungs and kidneys. The treatment plan had been established and the prognosis was less than positive. From that day forward, I would be on a continuous chemotherapy and steroid regimen. The disease needed drugs, the side effects from the drugs needed more drugs. Each day was 17+ medicines, hair loss and weight gain.

Doctors told me I wouldn't be able to have kids, the seasonal flu or cold could put me in the hospital and a relapse was very likely. My chances of celebrating my 30th birthday were slim to none.

After the shock wore off and the medicines took control, I lost my identity. I was no longer strong, fearless, immortal or beautiful.  I didn't want to be labeled as "bald, fat, sickly, fragile or barren".   My life had been derailed. All of the plans I crafted were erased. My heart was heavy and my ego shattered. I felt like I had to grieve the life I once had and carelessly lost.

I could wallow in self-pity and question why, or I could cling to God's promise. I could be angry or I can TRUST!

Jeremiah 29:11- For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I realized that God does have a plan for my life and that alone gives me great hope.  But when the plan seems difficult, I am reminded that His plan for me always revolves around my relationship with Him.   Whatever is going on in my life, His ultimate plan is that I would come to Him, seek Him and live in communion with Him.

A few months ago, I celebrated my 32nd birthday!

This month marks 9 years in remission with Wegener's Granulomatosis.

In a few weeks I celebrate my 6th wedding anniversary with my awesome husband and best friend, Tim.

Every single day I rejoice in my blessings... Aidan (4 years old) &  Connor (22 months old).

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Let's all seek out  the plan God has for us...in spite of our own desires & wishes. Whatever he has in store for us is better than we could ever dream of ourselves!

 

Ann let me write her bio for her and I can hardly contain myself.  Ann Gattie is my fabulous sister-n-law.  I was her mentor my Junior year of High School while she was a sixth grader.  It was at that time that I met her brother who I later married.  Ann has always been a bubbly beauty, but more so since I have seen her walk closer with her Savior.  She is one of those moms who makes everything including eating your vegetables an absolute treat.  She's a girl who becomes your friend the moment you meet; not to mention a wonderful wife, sister, aunt, gift-giver and party planner.  She enjoys reading, playing with her kiddos, cooking and life.

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I got an invitation.  Nothing fancy.  It came last night about twelve hours in advance.  My mind quickly raced.  Do I have anything going on at 8:00 tomorrow morning?

This morning I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the stairs.  While I preheated the oven, I covered two slices of bread with mayonnaise making sandwiches for the girls' lunch.

I pulled Rylie's hair back into a ponytail while ordering Hayden to get started eating his breakfast and shouting for Hallie to get downstairs.

I quickly inspected backpacks for completed homework and ensured my initials were on all the correct lines.  Still in need of a shower I scarfed down a cinnamon roll that had the perfect combination of soft with extra icing.

And then I thought.

I'm in no way dressed for a breakfast date.  Mascara made raccoon eyes from the day before were on my side. I don't have nearly enough time to get ready.

Still I raced to the shower determined to get dressed in record-breaking time, Jason asked and I'm going.

Full of excuses I countered that I wasn't even hungry. I had that cinnamon roll....  I'd much rather have lunch.... or breakfast another day when I have more time to make myself presentable..... when I've allowed myself to get good and hungry.

Just go I told myself.

And I went.

Jason and I had grits and eggs at a quaint little cafe;  me without my hair fixed. I didn't have my usual announcements of upcoming kid events prepared.  I had no funny moments to share of yesterday's afternoon with the kids; no worries to tell.  I went without that excitement that my grumbling belly would soon be filled with my favorite food.

And surprisingly I was satisfied.  More than satisfied.  My day has taken on a new brightness because of that hour-

without many words being spoken,

without a jumpstart on the house,

without my painted on face,

with ragged hair,

with eggs and grits,

with my man

simply WITH.

At the end of our $7.00 breakfast I smiled as I flipped over our ticket and read these words:

 

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,    

 that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

 -Psalm 90:14

 

And so it goes with God.

A picture of us with my hair less ragged and painted on face

Don't forget about the longstanding invitation for Thursdays- "A Thursday for Your Thoughts".  There's an invitation with your name on it.  Send me your story or come back and be a part of someone else's.

I'd love to hear from you in comments or email- kristiburden@gmail.com

 

 

 

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Letter from a First Grade Mother

ROUGH DRAFT

Dear First Grade Teacher ,

Hope you had a long restful weekend.  -On to the second week of school.  There are just a few things I thought you'd like to know about Rylie.

Rylie was tested last year for allergies.  She is allergic to a number of foods as well as mold grasses and a list of other things.  She took shots last year, but we're seeing how she's doing this year without them.

She often has a stomach-ache after eating.  Her nose runs and she gets gray circles under eyes. She is your student that will use more than the two boxes of tissues brought at the beginning of the year. She developed a runny nose and crud this past weekend. She's not feeling well today.

 She cried not wanting to go to school this morning.  I'm giving her medicine, but I know she would feel better if she were at home in the living room still wearing her pajamas watching Doc Mc Stuffins. 

I must also let you know, if you're not aware yet, that she is a drama queen.  She's been told not to play the "sick card" so hopefully you won't have  a problem with that.

She doesn't like reading yet.  This breaks my heart.  I SO want her to enjoy reading....and writing.  I pray you find a way to instill a love  for something I find so important.  I pray that you will help her discover the magic that is found in a book and that can be created on paper.   

Her feelings were hurt on the playground last week.  You may not know, but she gets her feelings hurt easily.  She is tall for her age and seems so confident, but really she breaks so easily.  She works hard to make sure everybody likes her.  I was that way.  I hope someday she will be able to walk away from the jungle gym unscathed when a girl (who is an old friend) doesn't want to play with her.  Until then will you hug her often so she'll know she's ok?

I was so proud of her Sunday night.  She counted all of her birthday money by herself.  There were different bill amounts and change.  Did you remember that she had a birthday?  I have a list of things that she's good at that I can share with you if she's ever testing your nerves.

She told me she got in trouble last week for talking to you without permission.  I'm glad she told me.  That means she is thinking about what she did.  I told her to remember that she had an invisible talking ticket in her hand and that she couldn't talk without raising her hand and waiting until you acknowledged it.  I hope that works.  I want her to behave.

I have so much more to say but I don't want to use up your entire conference period.

Looking forward to a great year,

Kristi Burden

I actually sat down this morning to type a simple email to Rylie's teacher.  But before I knew it my heart had taken my fingers hostage and I had written more words than a teacher could bear.  I've shamelessly shared some of what I originally typed and the thoughts I held back in restraint.

Before I pressed send, reality struck so instead- I forced my finger to rest on the delete button relinquishing control.

And I prayed putting my children back in the hands of the one who both knows and meets their needs.

Help Rylie's teacher.  Help Hayden and Hallie's teacher.  Thank you for the investment these teachers have placed in children's lives.

Help them to know the value and see the beauty in these children you have lovingly created.

Help them instill a love for learning whether it be counting, dribbling a ball or having good character even when they've been hurt.

I pray they would be loved even when they're hard to love.

Keep them safe.

Amen.

I'd love to hear from you-  kristiburden@gmail.com