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This past Sunday in church, we had a guest minister who gave a sermon about active prayer. She suggested that sometimes we need to do physical actions when we pray to remind us of the words we are saying. She even made the whole congregation stand up during her sermon and say the Lord’s Prayer using hand motions. It was pretty odd, but it did get me thinking.

Sometimes when I pray, I’m just too tired or distracted to really focus on the words that I am saying. More and more these days, my prayers are becoming me sitting there for a while and then finally saying, “Lord, you know me. Do I really have to tell you what’s going on in my life?” Sometimes those prayers are okay. We get busy and I do believe that God would rather us take a minute to just check in with an empty prayer than to not talk to him at all. But after the sermon this past Sunday, I started paying more attention to how often I was praying haphazardly. Honestly, there just sometimes aren’t enough hours in the day for me to stop and give a really great prayer up, you know?

That’s partly where music comes into play for me. I listen to praise and worship music in my car sometimes as a time for me to just praise God, especially on days when I’m too distracted to come up with my own prayers. So, when I started thinking more about how to pray intentionally, music came to mind. I can remember being in high school and going to my youth group on Sunday nights, spending an hour or more with my hands lifted in praise. There were no requests in those prayers. I wasn’t complaining or asking God for something. I just spent an hour praising him. And it was such a wonderful feeling. For the past few days, I’ve been thinking that maybe the key to more meaningful prayers is spending more time in worship.

But when the heck would that happen? Who has time? (Sorry, God…)

The only time I have during the day that is 100% mine is between 5:30 and 6:30 in the morning when I go for my run. Big Molly and I head out when it’s dark outside and we run all over our neighborhood, just the two of us. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. And I started to think maybe that was the perfect time for a little uninterrupted worship.

So, yesterday morning when I started my run, instead of using my running app with Jeff Galloway who talks to me while I run, walk, and die slowly on my neighbors lawns, I turned on Pandora and found a praise and worship music station. I spent almost an hour running around with some really great old school praise music blasting in my ears. And I worshipped. Sure, there were occasional prayers thrown in there.

“Lord, please don’t let me throw up in my neighbors birdbath…”

“God, please help me make it back home before I pass out…”

But for the most part, I just listened to praise music and thought things like, “Thank you God for giving me a body that is stronger than I think it is.”

About halfway through my run, I started singing. Out loud. One of my favorite praise songs came on and before I really knew what I was doing, I started singing it out loud as I ran. But since I was winded, it sounded more like I was panting in phrases.

“Here…I am…to…worship….(pant, pant, pant)… Here I am…to…bow…down… (pant, pant, pant)… Here I am to say…that…you’re…my…God… (pant, pant, pant)…”

Because I run when it’s dark, I usually go through our neighborhood and then out onto a major road that’s well lit. Since it is out on a major road and there aren’t any houses around, I really let myself go with the singing and before I knew it, I was singing REALLY, REALLY loudly. Even Big Molly kept looking up at me. But I didn’t care. It was early, no one was out, I wasn’t bothering anyone, and this was my worship time. So, I sang.

But, then I turned down my own street and was back around houses and neighbors again and because I had my headphones in and was busy singing at the top of my lungs, I completely didn’t pay attention to where I was. As I started down my street, I noticed a neighbor who had come out to get his paper. He must have heard me singing because he kind of stopped and stood there, staring at me. And still, I didn’t realize I was continuing to sing. So, I go jogging by this neighbor, panting, close to passing out, sweating, dragging my embarrassed, fat black lab, and panting/puffing/singing, “Amazing Grace” at the top of my lungs. It was only when I got about two houses past this guy that I realized that I was still singing so loudly. By then, I was back in my own yard and I quickly ran inside so I could die of embarrassment in the privacy of my own home.

Maybe that’s what that guest minister was trying to tell us. Maybe the point she was making about moving and taking action during our prayers was that when we become active in our prayers, they become so strong and present in our lives that we don’t even really have to think about them anymore. Maybe intentional prayers are the prayers of those who are just trying too hard. Maybe the best prayers are the ones we do without thinking about it. The ones that just flow out of us, that are unstoppable. Maybe it’s those prayers we can’t help but pray that really matter.

27 comments | posted in Faith, Marriage Confessions | tags: humor, life, prayers, religion

I am thankful for the home that we live in and for the lives that we will build here.

I am thankful for a job that makes me smile every day and for the middle schoolers who allow me to be part of their world for a little while.

I am thankful for a church that teaches about the power of prayer, the importance of family, and the strength of faith.

I am thankful for friendships that make me a better person.

I am thankful for the readers who come back here every day to journey with me, without judgment, expectations, or demands.

I am thankful for just enough money in the bank each month.

I am thankful for family who send funny emails, inappropriate texts, and who are worth everything we’ve been through to live close to them again.

I am thankful for an incredibly smart, energetic, innovative, and funny two-year-old son who reminds me every single day that life is just good.

I am thankful for the beautiful smiles, nighttime cuddles, and incredible happiness that my seven-month-old daughter brings into my life.

I am thankful for the person who kisses me every morning, says he loves me every night, and stands beside me every day.

I have a lot to be thankful for this year, but above all of those things, I think I am most thankful for the trials and tribulations in our lives because, through those experiences, I have learned to be thankful for everything else.

Wishing you and your family all the blessings of thankfulness,
Katie, Chris, Michael, and Gracie

17 comments | posted in Faith, Family, Florida, holidays, Jobs and Careers, Marriage, Marriage Confessions, Money, Moving, Operation BWYP, Understanding Katie | tags: Family, life, thanksgiving

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This past weekend we had Gracie baptized. Finally. When I called our minister to see if they could squeeze us in for the Sunday service, I told him that we’d like to get her baptized before she goes off to college and I think we just barely made it. I had been waiting on the baptism because I wanted Chris’s mom, Jackie, to be there and her teaching schedule is different than mine, so we could never get our days off to line up. Finally, she told us she was coming to town last weekend and so I was determined that THIS would be the weekend.

True to my last minute self, I called the church on Tuesday to see if I could get Gracie baptized that Sunday, which meant Chris and I had to haul ourselves across town to our church Wednesday night to meet with our minister for a chat (which ended up being such a lovely, lovely conversation about marriage and parenting and family and faith…). With that done, the only thing left was getting a baptism gown for her. I didn’t end up buying that until Friday afternoon and I didn’t get Gracie’s white shoes until 10:00 on Saturday night.

It’s how I roll, people.

In any case, by Sunday morning, Gracie was dressed, shoed, bowed, and wearing her best accessory…that big, beautiful smile.

See that gold cross necklace she’s wearing? My parents got that for her from the Vatican in September. Isn’t it beautiful? What a perfect keepsake from her baptism!

Gracie was in a great mood that morning. She and Bean came to “Big Boy Church” with us and they both sat so still and quiet. Well, except for when Gracie was babbling “Dada! Dada!” during The Lord’s Prayer… Baptisms are one of my favorite things, whether it’s my own babies getting baptized or someone else’s. To me, baptisms are a symbol of God’s unconditional love. They get me all teary.

For the actual baptism, Gracie did great! She cooed while I held her and the minister blessed the water and she kept reaching out and holding Bean’s arm while the congregation pledged to bring Gracie up in fellowship with God. She wasn’t sure about the part where I handed her over to our minister, though. She never actually cried, but I did have to do some serious silent cooing and smiling to keep her happy.

By the time we got to the hymn at the end of the ceremony, Gracie had warmed up to our minister and the two of them strolled the main aisle saying hello to people while we all sang, “Child of Blessing,” to Gracie.

After the baptism, we took a few family pictures outside the church. It’s not often that we’re all together and clean at the same time.

After pictures, we all headed back to my house where I had a big lunch for everyone. It was a really great day. For everyone except Bean.

Clearly, situations which put Gracie in the center of attention in a beautiful white dress are frowned upon in Bean’s World.

22 comments | posted in Faith, Family, Marriage Confessions, Parenting | tags: baptism, faith, Family

Ya’ll.

I’m beat.

Like, all the time.

You know when you wake up about half an hour before your alarm goes off and then you’ve just fallen back to sleep when it actually does go off? That’s the kind of tired I am. Part of it is working. I’ve worked in offices before and I’ve stayed home before and both of those environments had their own unique challenges and perks. But teaching is exhausting in a completely different way.

I talk all. day. long.

And I walk all. day. long.

Between teaching and then pacing around the room, I’m talking and walking just about the entire day. While it isn’t mentally taxing (though I do find it incredibly stimulating), it is physically exhausting. By the end of the day, I’ve literally run out of words to say. Chris doesn’t know what to do with me. Once the kids go down, I’m like a mute. I just sit there. Staring. And occasionally demanding wine in a sippy cup.

But I have experienced unemployment and so I know better than to complain about working now. I love my job. My days are fun, full, and fulfilling. I’m not complaining. I’m just stating the obvious. My job wears me out!

Then the afternoon bell rings and I get to start my second, most important job. My mom job. That one’s a doozey, too. Bean’s at this great, inquisitive age that has him asking 1,000 questions a day. He wants to know what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and what everyone else we know is doing while we are doing what we are doing. He’s very concerned about tasks right now. I’m not a psychologist, but I think he must be realizing that not everyone does the exact same things that we do. For example, when we go to church, Bean always runs down the list of his favorite people, asking if they are going to their church, too. Pretty smart cookie, that kid. But it is really tiring to answer all those questions.

And Gracie needs just as much attention as Bean. She’s at that age where she’s really attached to me and doesn’t want me to go too far. Some of that is her age and some of that is because she’s in daycare all day so when she finally sees me, she wants to keep her eye on me so I don’t disappear again. Because of that, I’ve been doing a lot of things lately with Graciekins on my hip. You should see my biceps. Those suckers are firming up.

Sort of.

Kind of.

Okay, not really.

But I have to tell you, for as tired as I am, for as exhausted as my body is, for as fried as my brain has become, somehow there’s always enough energy to go around. Just when I think that I simply can’t do one more thing, Bean asks me to jump like a frog.

So, I do.

When my days seem to get longer and longer, something about my kids makes that exhaustion just melt away.

And that’s not saying anything about what kind of mom I am. That’s saying something about how powerful and important my kids are in my life.

I’m not a real sentimental person. For as much as I share on this blog, I’m actually pretty tough when it comes to emotions and mushy stuff. But, honestly, I just never knew I could feel like this about someone. The way I love my kids is truly amazing. It’s how I know there’s a God, because there’s no way I could have this much love inside me on my own.

There’s no way I could have this much energy by myself, either. It must be divine energy. Or, toddler energy that has just seeped into my pores by osmosis from Bean.

But I’m guessing it’s the God one.