In Light of so Much Hate-A Picture of Love

I have been wrestling all day today with anger. With sadness. With a broken heart for those that have senselessly lost their lives on every side. For the injustice experienced by more hurting people than I can possibly wrap my mind around.

My heart aches.

My mind is spinning.

And I am mad.

And so tonight, while I remember that God  is weeping with His creation...I am going to take comfort in the truth that there is still beauty in the midst of the ugliness of this world.  And I will cherish and be thankful that my sweet child shows love, and compassion, and mercy to the hurting, to the broken hearted, to the down trodden...without judgement. Without reservation. Without hesitation. 

This is our sweet Drew, 8 years old, on vacation in Washington DC.

He saw this gentleman on our first day there. Came back the following day in front of the Natural History Museum searching for him again because he wanted to give him a goody bag he had made while at church full of: water, crackers, granola bars, tissues, hand sanitizer...and $20 of his birthday money he had been saving.  He wanted this man to have it all.

He loves in tangible ways. He didn't tweet his support.  He didn't hashtag his support. He actively showed his love and care to another human being and made this man feel valued. Made him feel as though he weren't invisible. 

So in light of the pain.  In light of the injustice.  In light of the hate.  I show you a very real picture and tangible expression of LOVE from the next generation. 

There is hope. 

Christmas Letter 2015

Allen Christmas Letter 2015

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  Or Happy Valentine’sday, Easter, Labor day, or Election Day…depending when we finish this letter and you finally receive it.  The Allen family has had so many changes this year the Chinese have actually recognized 2015 as “the year of the Chameleon” in our honor.  So let’s start with the “catching up on our year” section, then some fun stuff.

The first change and one of the biggest to mention right out the gate is that we moved.  We left our home in Powell and moved in with Lindsey’s parents in Dublin.  Long story short, we wanted a different life for our family and selling our house to save for a new one was our choice.  An easy one, no way. The best one, definitely.  Lindsey’s parents were gracious enough to take us in: 2 more adults, 3 kids under 10 and 2 dogs to join their house of 2 adults and 2 dogs.  So doing to math, 4 adults, 3 kids and 4 dogs.  They went from empty nesters to “there is no more room in the inn.”  The move went great and the transition even better.  The boys now get to see their grandparents every dayand have cable and Lindsey and I get to sleep on 2 twin beds pushed together.  I do enjoy sleeping in Lindsey’s old bedroom with Rainbow Bright and my little Pony and next to posters of Joey McIntyre and JTT (Johnathan Taylor Thomas.)  

I started a new job this year and now work in Delaware as a Therapy Manager at a skilled nursing facility.  I manage an enormous team of therapists, actually just 1, but I manage him well.  I also lead worship at our church playing guitar and singing for Jesus.

After 10 years, Lindsey re-entered the corporate world and got herself a job this year.  Because Lindsey’s mom retired and could watch the boys, she was able to start her new career as an optometric technician.  What does she do?  I believe she plays with eye balls.  It’s all very gross to me so I don’t ask.  She says she gets to take pictures of eyes and order contacts and “cool stuff” like that.  The other day she said she got to take a contact out of someone’s eye and how awesome it was.  I gagged in my mouth a little and I wipe people for a living.  But she loves it and the people she works with.  She also loves to walk and spend time with boys.

Zachary is now 10 years old and in 4th grade.  He is our expert reader, never stopping until he runs out of book, which is often.  The library is officially running out of books for him to read and he will soon turn to pamphlets and restaurant menus to get his reading fix.  He also loves to swim and has taken to it like a… fish to water.  

Drew is 8 years old and in 2nd grade.  He loves arts and crafts.  He also loves to read but only about factual topics like history and animals.  He loves sharks and hopes to one day resurrect a Megalodon and raise it like a pet, no joke.  He wants to be that scientist from Jurassic Park, the one not eaten.  

Nate is trying to kill us.  I could tell you he is 6 years old but we only represent that time as the number of years he has allowed us to live.  He is in kindergarten because he is too young for prison.  The boy has his moments of utter and complete cuteness, when he is a perfect, sweet cherub of a boy who can do no wrong and loves you unconditionally.  And then the rest of the time, he is awake.   And that is a different story.  If you have ever seen Family Guy, Nate is the real life Stewie Griffin.  We think he is secretly always plotting to destroy Mommy.  But seriously (since he will read this when he is older) Nate is a sweet boy and so funny.  He loves to wrestle, play with his brothers and cousins and loves school.  So there is still hope.  I see good in him. -Luke Skywalker

As far as activities this year, we kept busy.  And what I mean by that is “we killed time.”   We went on a family trip with all 11 boy cousins to Hocking Hills, the 3 boys were all involved in swim team this summer, and Lindsey and I went with her parents and brother and sister-in-law to Nashville Tennessee this December.   It’s been a great year even with all the changes but that’s just a testament to how good our God is and how much He loves us.  So here’s wishing you that same love, grace and mercy He pours out on us daily to you and yours this Christmas season.  

​​​​​​​Merry Christmas,

​​​​​​​Mark, Lindsey, Zachary, Drew, and Darth Nate

Playing Beat the Parents with the boys, their question was “where did Adam and Eve live?”

Zachary: “Bethlehem” Drew: “Jerusalem.” Nate “Cincinnati?  No.”

Zachary: Mommy, which stuffed animal should I bring tomorrow for our pajama and movie day? Lindsey: I don’t know it’s up to you.

Zachary: Ok, well lets solve this the scientific way; Eenie Meenie Minie Mo….

“Teamwork is the best power to have.  Well, besides God and Jesus.”  -Drew

Drew left a plate outside his door. “So people can leave me an offering if they want.” -Drew

“Hey Mommy, guess what. I let Lilly (our dog) lick me in the mouth. Here, watch. Now you do it!” –Drew

“Can we bring this to church because Jesus loves it?” –Nate (Scooby Doo Wrestle Mania Mystery)

Nate started freestyle rapping at bedtime. “Read your bible! Or I’m gonna punch you in the faaaaaace!”

“Mommy and Daddy. I’m going to read and don’t tell me if I am wrong. Just let me do it.  Ok...this is Batman and he has a sidekick, Robin, who doesn’t really do anything. It makes Batman mad because he has to do, like, everything.” - Nate

Beauty in the Ruins

While I was home sick this past week I binge watched season 7 of Project Runway. I am always looking for ways to broaden my horizons, enrich my mind, enhance mine, and my family's lives...  Watching the cat fights and backstabbing, and uncomfortable models walking down the runway in impeccably made clothes, or ill-fitting clothes (depending on who you ask) was the perfect way to meet all of my needs. Well, I am actually 1/2 kidding. But watching this show is pure entertainment for me, and it definitely makes me want to learn how to sew a button onto pants.
However, while watching the finale of season 7 today one of the final contestants was explaining his life, and how he came to be a designer. Emilio Sosa grew up in a low-income, urban environment, surrounded by drugs and violence. What he said keeps resonating with me. In spite of his life circumstances and his surroundings he said, "I saw beauty in the ruins."
Beauty in the Ruins.

I love this!

And then it got me thinking about the Pope. (I know. I know. Quite the leap, but just follow my stream of consciousness here.)
I am not Catholic. Therefore, there are many things about the Pope, and why people follow him, that I do not understand.  And that's ok. However, I keep seeing posts pop up on my newsfeed in facebook, or hear people on the news and on the radio talking about Pope Francis and what an incredible man he is. Even my non-religious/not practicing a particular faith friends make comments like, "Man, you know, I really like this Pope." And I must agree. He is an amazing man, full of grace, and compassion, and mercy. But what I want people to realize is that this man they love...

This man that stops for the sick, helps the poor, reaches out and holds the of the unwanted, the fringes in our societies around the world, the man who offers hope to the hopeless, the man who sees beauty in the ruins...beauty in all of us. This man...he is but a man, although incredible, that is immulating the very heart and actions of His Savior, Jesus. So while people want to take notice of this man and praise Him for his kindness, his love, and his mercy, I want people to take a step back and realize that this man is living and loving like Jesus lived and loved. And how He wants to live and love through each of us all the days of our lives.
However, because of the pain we have experienced at the hands of Christians, or witnessed through the lens of media outlets which cover some crazies, we choose to not even discover who Jesus is for ourselves.  We write Him off as a crazy leader that's only message was what he "didn't" stand for...and how we can fight for His agenda on earth, while He judges us from heaven. And this my friends, well this, breaks my heart, and makes me feel so sad for so many. Not in the "mean girls" feeling sorry for someone because they can only afford Target Lilly Pulitzer and not Boutique Lilly Pulitzer (for the record, I can't afford either, but whatever).  No, I feel sad because of what people are turning their backs on, without even looking into what Jesus really says, who He really is!

He is the author of seeing beauty in the ruins!

He sees us and loves us as we are, in this moment: the mess and train wreck of a life, marriage, abortion, relationship, divorce, eating disorder, domestic abuse, adultery, addiction, illness...you name it, and even in the midst of it He loves you. But the greatest thing about Jesus is He loves you so much, that He also sees you as He created you to be, and thinks you are stunningly beautiful. And He will guide you to that place where you see it in yourself, and you choose Him, the author and perfecter of beauty.
So while we want to shout for joy over Pope Francis, please know how he learned to love, and that is through His Savior who wants to live and breathe in each and every one of us if we let Him.
Can you imagine a world where we all selflessly loved others? Cared for the poor and down trodden? And I don't mean like the government taking care of people, but like...people taking care of people! Just like we see Pope Francis doing.

He is being just like Jesus.

The Joyful and Tired Mom

Enough with the Holy Huddles

I sat down feeling inspired and excited to write; then Nate came up to me and whined about something, and then his story ended with a story about a new friend of his that used to play with poop when he was little. A small transition to talk about my love for this pope seems a bit...well, not right.

However, having been sick in bed for the last several days with a kidney infection that won't quit has left me precious time to reflect on life, on what it means to love others-even if we don't agree with one another, and whether or not my heart will survive the rising blood pressure that will be brought about due to the 2016 election...and everyone's facebook comments about everything that offends them on our green earth, and why everyone who disagrees with them are idiots/fools. (The answer to that last bit is a definitive no, I won't survive, but I digress.)

But I keep thinking about what I want the church to look like. Who should we be in our current culture that politicizes EVERYTHING, and pits one person against another? One group against another. One religion against another. One opinion against another. Until before we know it, we are in a culture war that continues to escalate. And several groups are marginalized and fearful in a society that prides itself on "freedom."

While we continue to throw stones about immigration, abortion, marriage equality, healthcare, whether global warming is real or not, we forget to LOVE. Love others. Love them in spite of their views. Their race. Their political affiliation. Love them regardless of their sin, their beliefs, their choices. Love.
Choose Kindness. Seek to Understand, Rather Than Be Understood.

I wonder how we got to this place of judgment of others...for everything. And it occurred to me:

We are too busy pretending to be perfect, and pointing our fingers at those that aren't, that we don't have time to get to truly know someone. We're too busy acting like we have it all together.  We deflect our own feelings of inadequacy onto others, "If I can draw attention to their baggage, maybe no one will notice mine."
But that isn't life. That isn't living. And that isn't who we as believers are supposed to be, or how we are to act. We are to LOVE. We are to acknowledge that we are screwed up, and THAT is why we need a loving Savior. Not that we are perfect, and Jesus is lucky to have us on His side. I mean honestly, who do we think we are!
As I was feeling all of these feelings, and not knowing how to quite articulate what I was thinking, I came across a recording of Rend Collective. It's their "Campfire Story," and it perfectly describes what I want to overflow from churches everywhere.

"Is there anything quite like a campfire? The community that is built there by people sharing their stories, singing their songs is truly special.  It's so intimate. It's like being 10 years of age again and sharing all your secrets with your best friend. And that openness and vulnerability is exactly what we should see in the greatest community on earth-the church. There are no walls out here; and there should be no walls of defense toward God, or each other, even if we have been hurt. Worship isn't just confined to the 4 walls in the church building. And it's certainly not exclusive, but it's for every human being on the planet. In the kingdom of God, there are no outsiders.
We need to be careful  not to allow hurt or cynicism to drive us from church. Otherwise we end up like a branch taken from the fire, lifeless and cold. I know the pain we experience in life can be overwhelming, but we aren't meant to go through it alone.

All of us have the divine spark within us, and we so desperately need the breath of God to bring us to light and life. Jesus wants us to set the church on fire so the world can warm themselves around us, and find life and safety. We are here on earth to be a home or refuge for the lost and broken, but first we must learn the art of togetherness and celebration. To welcome people into the party of true freedom found in Jesus, we must first be students of that very way of life. 
We need to learn to celebrate. We need to choose His joy.
We are the church. We are the hope on earth.

To be on a journey as God's family, going through the highs and lows of life, suffering and laughing together, that's what I want; not some holy huddle where we all pretend everything is ok. But a real community who believes in the God of miracles, but also the God of the trials. That's what the world needs too.  So let's give out the invites. Put aside our selfish ways. And celebrate Jesus around the campfire.

It's time for you to start your fire."

-Rend Collective "Campfire Story

I am thankful that this is our church. It is a family. It is full of perfectly imperfect people that love and care for one another.

I don't want that celebration around the campfire to last an hour on Sundays. I want it to permeate our very lives, and the lives of all who know us.
For those who have been wounded by the church, Christ didn't come to condemn, he came to seek and save. Don't allow someone else's failure to keep you from the loving arms of Jesus.
And for the rest of us...let's set the church on fire. Bring Christ's message of love, hope, redemption, and joy to the world.
Let's quit deciding who is worthy of God's love, and love everyone, just as He did.
Let's stop pretending we have it all figured out. We don't.
Let's stop pretending that we don't struggle.
Lets stop pretending we don't stumble.
Let's stop pretending that life doesn't feel soul-crushingly hard sometimes.
God is a God of victory, in triumph, and in suffering. Let's show the world what it means to suffer alongside our Savior; AND celebrate the highs of life with Him as well.
Quit pretending.
Be real.
Stop the Holy huddles.
And let's rejoice that we worship a God of 2nd, 3rd, 4th...chances.

The Joyful and Tired Mom

The Beloved/Dreaded Participation Trophy: One Mom's Journey to the Other Side

As a one time believer in the Participation Trophy, I could not let my thoughts linger in response to Pittburgh Steeler, James Harrison making his sons return their participation trophy at the end of a season.

"While I am very proud of my boys for everything they do and will encourage them till the day I die, these trophies will be given back until they EARN a real trophy,” Harrison captioned a photo of his sons’ student-athlete trophies. “I’m not about to raise two boys to be men by making them believe that they are entitled to something just because they tried their best. Cause sometimes your best is not enough, and that should drive you to want to do better...not cry and whine until somebody gives you something to shut u up and keep you happy.”

Now I must confess that had I read this one month ago I would have put my self-righteous/defensive boxing gloves on and come out swinging. And here is why:

From the time my sons starting playing sports, it was evident that they would never be winning a trophy for being the best at anything. Athleticism isn't their greatest strength. And that is ok. I repeat, that is ok. However, we live in a world where we glorify athletes starting at a very early age. As young as 7 my oldest son was coming home and saying, "Everyone respects (said child) and thinks he's cool just because he's good at sports. For no other reason than he's good at sports!" He couldn't understand or justify in his mind why his peers would hold someone at a higher level of esteem simply because they were more coordinated on a sports field. It is just the way our world operates at this time. I can't explain it. I don't understand it. I don't necessarily like it. But it is what it is; and so as a parent of children that aren't always celebrated for their brilliant minds by our world, I wanted my boys to experience a piece of that thrill of receiving a trophy. And how were they ever going to get that trophy? Simply put...a participation trophy.

It was the only way we could ever foresee our children getting a trophy, when the  thrill of getting and displaying a trophy is still magical.

However...

I am now singing a very different tune. VERY DIFFERENT. And I never, in my wildest dreams, saw this change of tune coming.



A few weeks ago all three of my boys finished their first summer of competitive swim team. To say it was a phenomenal season would be the understatement of the year. It wasn't phenomenal because my boys were the best. Refer to my earlier statement...athleticism isn't their greatest strength. What made it so incredible was the enjoyment they found in swimming. The went to every practice, every morning, without complaint. They tried their best each meet, and loved when they were able to see their times improve. They felt frustration, and tears were shed, but they were never so discouraged that they wanted to quit. The meets lasted 3+ hours, sometimes twice a week, and they were always excited to go and compete.  They made wonderful friends on the team that they cheered on, and cheered them on from the sidelines.
 It was glorious!
So I was really looking forward to the awards banquet when I learned that they were not going to bring home a participation trophy, but rather, a plaque with their name on it! Such a fun reminder of all of their hard work! A beautiful participation plaque.


At the awards banquet they were awarding the Most Valuable swimming awards to those that scored the most points for the team. It was exciting to see the joy and accomplishment written all over the kids faces that won. And then came the time to hand out the Most Improved awards.
Never in my wildest dreams...Nate won Most Improved for 6 and under. And then Zachary, our sweet, kindhearted, bright child was awarded the Most Improved Swimmer for the 9-10 age group. Let me repeat...NEVER IN MY WILDEST DREAMS did I foresee a child of mine earning a trophy for any athletic achievement. I am not trying to be cruel. I'm just being honest.


And as Zachary walked back to us after receiving his award, and our hearts were ready to burst with pride and joy, he says,

"I earned this!
This isn't a participation trophy!
I actually earned it!"

Out of the mouths of babes.  

In my hope for our children to have a trophy, no matter what kind it was, I had never considered that they may care about how the trophy came to be in their hands. I didn't think it would matter to them, as long as they had something. But that isn't the case. My 10 year old taught me that day that it DOES matter how the trophy becomes yours. I always thought that a trophy was a trophy. What Zachary taught me that day though was that true pride in your accomplishments comes from earning your reward. He saw the value of true hard work...and he loved it. He loves knowing that he worked so hard for something, and was acknowledged and rewarded for his hard work.

And so as a former die hard believer in the participation trophy, I recant my position. I firmly believe that our children want to be rewarded for a job well done, not for signing up to be a member of the team.

Still Learning about this Parenting Thing,

The Joyful and Tired Mom

Punching Fear in the Face

I have had writing something, anything, on my heart and mind for over a month now. That stirring inside that won't settle until I get something onto this daggoned blog! But as I have pondered what to write there are too many things I want to talk about: all of the crazy transitions our family has been going through over the last 4 months, the fears that have settled around my soul about how these transitions are impacting our sweet children, or how one of my sweet children isn't so sweet with me, and I fear this is an ugly glimpse into my future with him. Like...we always joke with my mom that when she gets older and wants to move in with us, we'll make room for her in our crawl space...or if it happened now, her crawlspace. And this is clearly a stupid joke we make, but Nate would say it and mean it with me. When I'm 99 he'll just hand me a broom stick that I can slam against the ceiling when I need a glass of water. 

I do believe my Nate blog is a blog for another day. I don't won't to weep on top of my computer keyboard today. 

But these transitions, whoa buddy.

 We knew this was going to be a season of change. And each step of the way, each difficult decision that Mark and I have made as a team has not been easy. 

We moved out of our home and out of our school district.

Moved into my parents' home.

Our boys are switching schools.

Mark switched jobs.

And I went back to work after not working out of the home in 10 1/2 years.

All in the last 4 months.

But with each step we take we know, that we know, that we know, we are stepping in the right direction for our family. And so each step of the way I have been speaking Jon Acuff's beautiful and poetic words of encouragement in my mind, "I am punching fear in the face." 

I am such a visual person. So each day I wake up I envision that Fear is this horrifyingly terrible and fierce monster that is after me, trying to hold me back, plant enough doubts in my mind to turn me around and go in the opposite direction of change. And when this ferocious beast comes after me, I visualize myself punching Fear in the face, smiling, shuffling around this ugly beast as he is laid out on the floor, and confidently moving forward toward change.

Because what Mark and I know, what we are living daily, and learning moment by moment, is that change and growth is hard. It's scary. You question decisions you make a million times each hour. But just because it is hard does not mean it is bad or wrong. It's just hard. And hard does not mean that there is an absence of God's blessing. We have experienced God's blessings and faithfulness and goodness in more ways than we can comprehend during this crazy season of change. God has been, and will continue to be, our constant, no matter where He leads us.
And as for waiting to see where He takes us...well, we are still waiting. And that's the hardest part. For a planner like me though, it isn't a bad thing. It is just a constant reminder of who we truly need to rely on to lead us.
As we wait though, it will be with gladness because of the joy we have experienced living with my parents. Although this is a season of immense change, it is a season that will be seared into the heart's and mind's of our beautiful children forever. In their minds, there is nothing greater in this world than being with Nanna and PopPop.

Waiting and Trusting,
The Joyful and Tired Mom

"This is my command-be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."
-Joshua 1:9

Not Quite Like Ron Burgundy

I like to believe and hope that anytime I write something on my blog it is uplifting, encouraging, and serves a greater purpose than me just piddling in my office at my computer, avoiding my responsibilities at home.  However, I have only been able to stomach pasta and girl scout cookies for the last 3 days, so I am not sure how carbo- loading is going to effect my writing. From what I can tell, this blog may be a rough one...the brain is pretty foggy at the moment.

Anyway, today Zachary had another opportunity to go on the news because of his accident several weeks ago. (For those that are just joining my blog, WELCOME! SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE! You can find out more about Zachary's accident here.) For those that have heard his story, offered prayers, encouragement, and support...here is just one more way we can celebrate how awesome God is; how He is allowing Zachary to once again walk away a hero, not a victim, and not ashamed.

 

 

This mornings interview was LIVE. Very different than the prerecorded interview we did a few weeks ago. Holy Moly, is it intimidating. The studio is silent during breaks in the show. Silent. I wasn't expecting that at all. I mean, my only experience with seeing behind the scenes of a television broadcast is from Anchorman. And I assure you that there were no anchors this morning doing vocal warm-ups such as:

 

"Unique New York."

or

"A Tarantula enjoys a fine chewing gum."

or

"The human torch is denied a bank loan."

or

"The arsonist has oddly shaped feet."

or

"Ho ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!"

 

It was such an interesting and exciting experience for me, Zachary, and Lisa.
Today's story was not focused on what happened to Zachary, but rather, the lessons he had been taking for the last 11 months that gave him the tools to save his life. Today's focus was on Goldfish Swim School; and Zachary and I could not be more proud to be associated with such an incredible business, staff, team, and vision. No words can adequately express our gratitude for Goldfish and their staff. They truly care for, and take care of, every student. They make lessons a joy for the kids from the moment they walk in the front door to the moment their lessons are finished for the week. The staff empowers each child to believe they can do their best, all while teaching them specific skills to stay safe in and around water, and become phenomenal and strong swimmers.

We are grateful for Steve and Lisa who bravely left their home to start a new life in Ohio and open a Goldfish Swim School here. Their courage to respond to the calling placed on their lives saved our son's life. A thank you, a million thank yous, will never be enough. But I hope that one day when they sit in church with us and watch Zachary get married, they can look back and see a beautiful ripple effect that their sacrifices created that will last for generations to come.

So thank you Steve and Lisa. Katherine. Charlie. And Ben.

Thank you to your parents that don't have you as close anymore.
And thank you to every member of the Goldfish team, from the phenomenal front desk team, to the teachers and supervisors on deck. What you do matters.

 

Another moment of redemption.

 

With a heart full of thanksgiving,

The Joyful and Tired Mom

 

P.S. Would it be inappropriate if I asked WSYX for one of the large lights they had on set? I really love how it made the color of my hair look!