Monthly Archives: November 2012

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 Making Lemonade out of Lemons

 I try not to write posts that are controversial or of sensitive nature.  This time I went went ahead.

  I read a most disturbing article this morning.

Girls in New York City who can't take Tylenol at school without jumping through hoops  are now able to take the morning after pill. These teens in thirteen NYC schools are also able to receive birth control injections from the school nurse. They can make decisions concerning their body when it comes to birth control but not when it comes to making the decision to drink a king size soda. I never say this, but feel it appropriate now, smh!

 Years ago, my sister ran through a door in High School cutting her forearm badly.  She couldn't get stitches until my mom could be contacted and gave consent. She could have bled to death, but needed parental consent.  Now we leave major decisions in the hands of our teens?

Girls fourteen and up are able to get these and other forms of birth control from the school nurse at their teenage will.  Letters were sent to the parents with the chance to opt out; some in the mail and in other schools letters were sent through the students. 

I know my kids don't get notes to me on a regular basis; I feel sure the schools know this is a possibility with these students as well.  Parents are already saying they have received no such letter.  The only way these girls will not be able to receive the birth control is if a note is checked, signed and returned opting them out of the service. I find it suspicious that only 1 to 2% of parents have returned the note.

Why not have it the other way around? Why did the schools not reserve the service for students whose parents give them permission to receive the morning after pill or other birth control? It shouldn't be done at all.

See full article http://abcnews.go.com/m/story?id=17310468

I've spent a lot of migraines and eye twitches being torn up about things of this nature; large and looming problems which I feel I have no control over. These kinds of programs and services break down the family rather than seek to build it. 

I'm well aware that there are kids involved in activities that their parents know nothing about who find themselves in situations which need to be dealt with delicately.  In other instances parents may know what there children are engaging in but feel helpless.

One important thing I learned when teaching is that parents care much more for their children's well-being than they are often able to express.

If the school has any business in the raising of these kids, and that's what they are at fourteen/fifteen-KIDS, then that business should be partnering with parents as long as that is a possibility. 

I fumed about this today.  Jason told me I was scaring him.

I spewed irritation from my soapbox for some time before deciding to get down and do something about it.

 Jason and I are Hallie's advocate. We will be the ears that listen to Rylie. We will be the voice Hayden hears. We will seek Godly counsel as we raise our children.

 The influence I hope to have when she is High School starts now; it started yesterday.  It's my job to ensure she's open with me.  It's mine and Jason's job to have an open dialogue now that will lead her to make good decisions when she's older.

This news about birth control being recklessly given to girls was like lemons. I decided to make lemonade. I wish I could make lemonade and share it with all of the girls and moms; all the families. But tonight I started with Hallie.

 I picked her up from twirling tonight and took a spontaneous, but intentional trip to Target.

Just me and Hallie.

We talked. A lot. We bought Cocoa/Marshmallow Three Musketeers.  I told her that I want to be the first person she comes to when she needs to talk.  I let her show me what shoes she liked. I listened.

Today I fumed about lemons.

Tonight I shopped and made lemonade.

 

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Have you ever been a Pinocchio? Pinocchio told lies. He disobeyed his father. Even after the fairy rescues him from the mean puppet master, does he go home? No. He goes with a bunch of wild boys to an island where he almost gets turned into a donkey.

The whole time, Jiminy Cricket is telling him in his ear, I don’t think this is a good idea. What you are doing is wrong. You should have gone to school.

Jiminy is that little voice that says, “You know better than that, don’t do it!” Jiminy is Pinocchio’s conscience. We have a conscience also but it is not in the form of a cricket. It is in the form of a small voice inside of us telling us when something is right or wrong. This conscience helps guide us. When we listen to our conscience, we feel good. When we are pushed to do the opposite of what our conscience tells us then we feel tense, upset, and mad. Just really unhappy!
Sometimes when we are with our friends, they will encourage us to do things that are wrong but we go ahead and do them because we don’t want to be different. Even when we do say no then they tend to push us or maybe even tell us that we can’t be a part of the group or be their friend. So it is really hard to do the right thing.

It is really hard to tell your friends no because all too often we are afraid that they won’t be our friend if we don’t go along with them. Or maybe, we just think we are going to miss out on some excitement.

 No matter what the circumstances, doing the right thing is not always the popular thing to do. Look at Daniel in the Lion’s den. Why was he put there because he refused to obey the King who said that he was not allowed to pray to God. Daniel knew this was not right so he prayed to God anyway and was thrown into the lions’ den but God shut the mouths of the hungry lions and Daniel was unharmed.

No matter how old you get there will always be circumstances that require a choice. A choice to do the right thing or to do what you know is wrong.
I’m sharing this with you because recently I had accepted a new job. I was very excited about it and looking forward to working. I was new and wanted to make friends with my co-workers and learn. It was an okay job but every day I came home wondering about how the people were doing things.

It just did not seem right but I put it off on me being new or not knowing as much as my co-workers. It just got worse every day. I just got madder and madder. Why was I mad because I was expected to do things that I knew were not right. It was insinuated for me to do certain things that I knew were wrong. I didn’t want to quit my job because jobs are hard to come by, I was getting hours that I needed, and I liked getting paid. The reality of it was even despite all that I was really miserable because I was not listening to my conscience.

Daniel 1:8-9

8 But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king's delicacies, nor with the wine which he drank; therefore he requested of the chief of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself. 9 Now God had brought Daniel into the favor and goodwill of the chief of the eunuchs.

NKJV

Be prepared to listen to your conscience or what is in your heart to find favor with the Lord!

My name is Kristina DeVillier. I live in Nederland but was raised in the small town of Buna. I'm married to Craig DeVillier and have 3 children: Andy Stimits (20), Mikala DeVillier (17), and Sara DeVillier (11). I am a RN and also a Licensed Professional Counselor-Intern. I have many different names: daughter, sister, mom, wife, cousin, niece, friend, grand-daughter, counselor, and nurse. The most important ones are daughter and sister. They are the most important ones because I’m a child of God and your sister in Christ. My purpose in life is to make a difference through Jesus Christ in the lives of others

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I've been waiting to write this post.

My mom had an opportunity to bring ordinary to life.  And she's done it. It all began when some caterpillars decided to spin their cocoon on her front porch this past spring; a whole host of them.

Rather than sweep them away like most creepy crawlers, she decided to let them stay.  The grandkids began to take notice, and before the butterflies made their appearance, a story emerged.

In real photos taken from my childhood home comes the story of Jardi.  Much like my own journey, probably yours too, Jardi learns that growing up isn't always easy. True transformation comes about through experiences shared with family, bullies and buddies, hurt and healing; and most importantly divine intervention.

 

I'm so proud for my mom and so excited to share with you the link to her first book, out on electronic shelves today!

                                         

http://www.amazon.com/Jardis-Journey-Gaye-G-Fowler/dp/146272292X/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1354057252&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=jardi%27s+journey

 

 You can find it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Crossbooks. 

I LOVE stories.  What's your's?  Send it to me at kristiburden@gmail.com. And don't forget to come back tomorrow for "A Thursday for Your Thoughts" shared by Kristina DeVillier.

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Just minutes ago I was blaring down 27th street (not in the school zone of course) one minute behind my second appointment of the day.  It was just in time to swerve into the Market Basket parking lot that I remembered I had 59 minutes until that next meeting. In planning to meet with my homebound student I hadn't accounted for the time between 10:00 and 11:00. 

That gives me an extra hour today.  In addition to the planned twenty-four hours, another hour has sneaked in.

So here I sit

In perfect stillness

In the quiet

I'd already planned to worry and cook and do my running around  (and then there's sleep) for the other twenty-four hours, and now I've been handed this gift of an extra hour.

So I run through the long to-do list in my mind, thinking of how many chores I can fit in an hour.  And I then I decide!  I'll do....

Nothing.

I'll breathe

Be thankful; not worry

Pray 

I'll simply be, without doing

Every day should have a 25th hour.

One with endless possibility

or the power of nothingness 

Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love

Psalm 90:12,14a

 

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Yesterday I ordered Christmas cards. 

 I'd been looking for two days, flipping through hundreds of designs; one card had red scalloped edges with the word joy in all caps, another too much like last year's with a white border at the bottom wishing its recipients a "Merry Christmas".  It was sweet relief to finally choose a card, enter my credit card number and billing information completing my purchase.

An equal amount of time went into getting the perfect family picture that goes on the card.  I'll spare you the outlining of that event.

Yesterday when I hit the "send order" button, I felt this great sense of accomplishment.  I thought of my to-do list; one down, 399 chores to go.  It's easy to get overwhelmed during the holidays.

I think of calendars busting at the seams.  I also think of friends who are taking care of sick family members, friends who are scrambling to make ends meet to try to provide a "happy" Christmas for their little ones.  It pains me to think of dear friends who are numb from tragedy this season.

For some, it's a wonderful season.

It's a busy season for some, for others loneliness is magnified. 

 For many, it's a difficult season.

For much of us, we feel all of the above.

This remains.

Christmas is coming for those of us who have gifts wrapped under the tree and who are already drying dishes with holly berry cuptowels to the tune of "Jingle Bells".

It's also coming for those who ache at its mention.

Though I know better, I've repeatedly made Christmas about what I can do; buying presents for Christmas angels, inviting people over for soup and hosting Christmas parties. I study magazines by the check-out; the covers colored with Paula Dean Christmas cookies and candle arrangements that could knock the socks off this country girl.

 Sometimes it's about what won't be there this Christmas.

 So if you're a Cyber Monday shoppin', Paula Dean cooking, deck the halls kind of gal -that's ok. 

If you're a simple girl who plans on using the black and white polka-dot wrapping paper you already had for wrapping Christmas presents-that's ok too.

To my hyper friends and those who are still waiting on motivation or cash, and to my friends still reeling from shock or sadness, Mary had it right.  In the midst of it all, heart-provoked- she treasured the babe wrapped in mystery.

Wishing each of us a thought-provoking, heart-pondering Christmas

full of Jesus

 

 

 

 

 

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I failed this go round in sharing those things for which I'm thankful.   Too busy and distracted this season, Thanksgiving snuck up on me much like it does any unassuming turkey.

So it's now, the morning after and 988 miles later that I sit at my breakfast table, pop my camera card into my computer and let it sink in just how blessed I am.

I could go crazy, now that I'm in hyper-thanksgiving mode (I've always been a day late) but I'm going to narrow my thankfulness to

 -a Thanksgiving week in retrospect

 

I'm thankful for five different pies at the desert table, enough left over for a slice of chocolate for breakfast

I'm thankful for leaves more fun than a Barbie right out of the box or a tube of lip gloss just opened

for pictures that slow you down, bring you in tight and beg for a smile even when you think you'd rather be doing something else

and for that one picture that makes you catch your breath and say deep down, "When did she grow into this beauty, and how could I not have noticed?"

for family that's not family

and teenage boy spit fights in the hot tub

for cousin sleepovers

and grandparents that are a wealth of wisdom, full of stories better than the ones in books

for sweet surrender in the nephew who let down his (picture-hating) guard long enough for you to capture one moment 

and cousins who are more like sisters and friends

I'm thankful for 87th birthdays

and being renamed "Cousin Mama"

for tickle fights intense enough to leave drool marks

for a home that waits unchanged

for that which grows old and a mess but holds in it treasures from magical days

for rays of sun that warm when the ground is cold and hard on your bare feet

I am thankful for beauty overwhelming that lasts a moment

but stays tucked in your heart forever.

 

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We'll be loading up early in the morning to head to Trinity to mourn a much beloved friend.  I sat down at my computer just a few hours ago to type a more positive note to leave here for the next days.  And as I sat down I received another call.

Another tragic call.

Another friend has left this world.  Another one gone too soon; it seems to us.

Today, Hallie's little friend from Trinity was tragically killed in an accident. 

So I sit. And the positive doesn't come easy.  It's stuffed way back. 

I was working on putting up a picture here when I got the call. I was fondly remembering the flock of pelicans that visited each fall down at the marina just a mile from where we lived in Trinity. 

I loved them.  The sight of them brought me such joy that many days after teaching I would drive a mile further and make a loop by the lake just to see them.  Now that we have moved away, it's one of many things I dearly miss. 

Can there be anything good about missing something or someone?

I think the picture fits.  I know it's the best this broken heart can do for tonight.

 

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

Psalm 46:1-3

Please pray for Ashley's family.

 

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I sat on the ledge of the fireplace Wednesday night; a large huddled mass of a broken girl on my lap.  I had shared the bad news.  A dear friend of our family, who was also Rylie's Pre-K teacher and teacher at church had passed away unexpectedly. 

So we sat by the fire and I did my best to explain what I don't completely understand myself.  I carefully thought out my best words, though there were none. 

"She never let me down, ......she never let me down," Rylie yelled.  "It's not fair". "I want her to be here with me now".

She and I rocked back and forth by the fire.  Her words were angry, and I let her be. 

 None of us wanted to lose our dear friend.  Deep down I knew her words were more true than mine; mine so proper. 

My heart and my words didn't match.

 There was both warmth and consuming pain in the fire at my back last night. Hope and despair. 

In the words of Shakespeare, Parting is such sweet sorrow.

I was reminded by Rylie that it's ok to be broken out loud.  Just as I knew and understood Rylie's pain, God knows ours deeply.  He doesn't always need us to put on a brave face and proclaim his glory through right words.

In glory we recognize that God is in control.  We recognize that Crystal is in a better place, even if we want her here.

Sometimes glory comes small. 

 Sometimes glory comes through tantrums; might I be so bold as to say begrudgingly.   Crystal's passing is not our way, but we know that God's ways are higher than our ways.

And so we concede.

Rylie wrote a letter.   It was addressed to God and Ms. Emmons.  My broken girl, in the midst of her sorrowful fit and confusion, knows who is in control.  She knows who Crystal is with.  And she trusts him even if she doesn't like it.

God loves "us adults" with our words of comfort and brave smiles, but he loves us too as broken children who don't always like his will.  He brings healing; sometimes  that means crawling up in his lap to cry a while. 

Psalm 147:3

 -He heals the brokenhearted

 and binds up their wounds.

A grace-full, faithful friend with a most gentle spirit, Crystal Emmons, you are gone but not forgotten.   In the words of Rylie, "You can pop up in my dream any day......"

 

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Written by Alison Howell

 

I move your golden tendrils out of your sleeping eyes,

And a whirlwind of emotion takes me by surprise.

I pause and kneel beside your bed and try to guess your dreams.

Your small frame curled tightly; your look peaceful and serene.

 

I inhale slowly, then exhale as though I feel the weight.

This little life depends on me and the choices that I make.

Then just as tears begin to well and my heart begins to race,

I close my eyes, bow my head and take my rightful place.

 

For every night, my precious one, I surrender my control

To one who loves you even more than we could ever know.

He knit your inmost being with a perfect plan in mind,

Lovingly creating you with a purposeful design.

 

So I ask for Him to lead me as I raise His little girl

And hold my hand as I hold yours to guide you through this world.

I pray that at a tender age, you learn to call Him “Lord”

And trust in Him, your Source of Strength, when life seems cold and hard.

I ask Him to reveal Himself in the choices that you make

As you hunger for His righteousness and always seek His face.

And on those days your way seems dark, I pray your soul is well

Because you hold to the assurance that His promises won’t fail.

I beg your days of serving Him are fruitful and are many,

That you fulfill your heart’s desires, and His blessing number plenty.

 

I begin to feel the peace He brings and know in you He finds delight.

I wrap my arms around you and kiss your head goodnight.

And as my weight is lifted by the One who holds the world,

I thank Him for giving me this chance to hold His little girl.

 

Alison Howell has been married to her best friend and high school sweetheart, Lance, for 11 years. They live in Nederland, TX. They have two children: a precious daughter, Mackenzie, who is 7, and a beautiful baby boy, Andrew. She is a stay-at-home mom who spends her spare time writing grants for meaningful non-profit agencies and volunteering at her church, Hillcrest Baptist. But she says what defines her the most is that she is promised to the King of Kings who has gone to prepare a place for her and is coming back to bring her there. And while she is waiting, she wants to make every moment count.

 

If you are interested in sharing your story, send your writing to kristiburden@gmail.com

You'll be glad you did.  I'll be glad you did too.

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She's with me most everywhere I go.

My Awkward friend

She's with me when I trip on that invisible bump in the sidewalk

and when I completely forget the most common words like (cherry).............turnover.

She's no help as I snap my fingers and frantically go through the a,b,c's......I think it starts with "t"

"It's a baked pastry that's filled with fruit, come on....you know," I say.

 

She's been one of my closest companions since I was young.

She was there with me the times my pants would find themselves unzipped in public, the times I dropped my lunch tray, and every time the teacher called on me (those were the times she was with me in La-La Land).

She was with me during every break-up.

Then there's that back-to-school party my Freshman year at my house.  I was so excited to meet my first guests that I ran out the front door only to be caught and yanked back by the screen door.  There I was with a big hole in my new shirt.  Awkward was there too.

My friend Awkward was there every time I air-balled in basketball.

She's there in the silence when my stomach growls loud and long.

She was riding shotgun when we wildly waved at a group of people while backing the car into a tree.

She's been my Zumba partner too as we attempted to shimmy and shake, offbeat and off-course.

And I'll never forget the time Awkward and I were called to the judge's box during Jury Duty.  I knocked over the evidence chart in front of everybody.  She just stood there.

We've been through some rough times, she and I.

But I must say she's taught me some important things.

 She's taught me humility.  Often when I'm high on myself,  that's just when she's back at my side.  She reminds me to cool it.  Right after my embarrassing moment she whispers, "You're definitely not perfect...but that's ok."

I've grown up with Awkward. She's been the topic of some great stories. She's made me laugh a thousand times!   In my most embarrassing times with her, she's even reminded me to pray, so that God might help us through.

We've been through some rough times, Awkward and I

But I think I'll keep her around.