I am not a bimbo. I am not a bimbo. I am not...

"Well, nothing was the same when you were away..." - Captain Von Trapp (Sound of Music)


     Perhaps I've never been the pinnacle of organization, but really, am I as utterly dippy as my actions as of late could lead me to believe?
     Leaving the keys in the outside door overnight?  Ok, I can retrace my steps on that one pretty well.  Arms loaded with groceries and a toddler, I approach the front door, drop a couple of bags near the entrance, take keys out of my mouth, unlock door, herd children into the living room, unzip their coats and go back to car for the rest of the bags...  enter door again to discover two-year-old is missing.  Frantically search upstairs, basement and storage ottoman (his favorite hideout) only to realize he escaped out the side door into the dark and vast snow covered yard.  Barefoot target located and held hostage, I head back into house and close and lock both exits... Grandma knocks on front door next morn, holding my keys, going on about how me being in my twenties makes her feel better about her forgetfulness at seventy something...
        Alright, so that one is somewhat understandable.  But, leaving the keys in the ignition, WITH THE CAR RUNNING AND UNLOCKED as I merrily drool my way through the aisles at  Hobby Lobby, in FLINT for TWO HOURS!? Ashamedly, I was alone with no toddler to blame... That one made me question my sanity (not to mention stand in awe of God's miraculous protection).  Searching for answers as to how such a thing could happen, I pondered  the sleepless night spent battling the possessed smoke detector (Note  - Buy the cheapo alarm.  You do NOT want the talking CO/smoke test-once-a-week-at-random-it's-better-because-it's-ridiculously-expensive detector - It's pure evil.), and the stress that comes with moving into a new house, homeschooling, running a business, and single-handedly preparing for Christmas.  But, let's face it, I've fried bigger fish before, with a respectively clear head even...
     What makes this time different? It's the grace factor.  I don't know how to explain it.  Previously, every time my husband and I have had to separate in order for the Gospel to be announced in the uttermost parts, there has been this strange sort of peace and easiness about his absence.  Sure we all missed him, but there was an excitement of "roughing it" by ourselves.  I call that peace, "the grace factor"
         Well folks, the exhilaration is gone, and I want my husband back.  Is the sacrifice worth it?  Without a glimmer of a doubt, YES.  I'd do this for five years if I knew people were getting to hear about Jesus because of it.  But, what I really feel, is that, God is moving us in a new and wonderful direction, to a place where we can travel together, as a family, making an even greater impact on the world. There's a stirring in my heart, distracting me at all times, causing me to... leave keys in the ignition, and place dirty socks in the refrigerator and the milk on the washing machine, and all the unmentioned absent minded things that I'll discover later.  It's there.  It's constant.  It's unmistakable, unshakable.  He wants us to go as a family. No financial burden will stand in the way, no excuses.  It's big, to have your family travel like that for the purpose of evangelism.  I only know one other living human who has done it (besides us, on occasion).  I say, "What the hey!" Pioneers make the way easier for others to follow in their footsteps, and I'm not only willing, I'm happy to do it. Future generation of evangelists, You're welcome!  Christina and Michael Lusk love you!

Dream big,

Christina Not Nearly As Arrogant As I Probably Sound Lusk

P.S.  This is the one other human I was referring to.  Thank you Dr. T.L. for your inspiration. We love you dearly.

For the Mums.

Happy Mother's Day!


This post is unique because I am giving you the opportunity to choose happy or heavy; kind of like an alternate ending.  Writers of "Ladder 49" please take note.  (I did not like balling on a bus in front of all those strangers.)


    If you're in a jovial type mood, the author of this blog recommends clicking here, where you will be re-directed to a previous post involving a brilliantly clever, dimpled darling, and her wise mother.


However, if you think you can hack it, I encourage you to click the link below.  But remember to come back to this page so you can email (click the envelope icon) it to share it with someone else.  I love you, especially you Mom.  You had all the "right reasons" to end my life before I independently breathed my first breath.  I'm just as grateful you didn't end it "after" I was born either. LOL.  Thank you for the opportunity of life. Have a wonderful Mother's Day everyone.


                    


                       CLICK HERE

She did it for my own darn good.

    When I was five I received some jewelry making supplies. (Sorry, whoever gave them to me - back then I only checked the cards for money and never got to the bottom part where your names were. I look for names now, but I still shake the envelope to see if I missed something important.) I loved creating my own jewelry.  I remember making one necklace-bracelet combo I was particularly proud of.  It was stunning and I wanted to wear it on school picture day.  I picked out my dress I was going to wear days in advance and informed my mother that I would also be modeling my trendy bling.  Her reaction was not what a brilliantly gifted-in-beadwork kindergartener wanted to hear.  "You are NOT wearing that to school on picture day young lady."  Ouch.  I had hoped my mom had more style sense than that. We went around quite a bit about it.  I eventually came to the conclusion that being in her eight month of pregnancy had affected her fashion judgment as much as it did her judgement on how many times a person really needed to use the bathroom in a day.
        I decided to give it one more shot.  Picture day morning had arrived and maybe, just maybe, if she actually saw how nice it all looked ON me she would change her mind.  (Unfortunately my mother is as stubborn a person as I am.)  "Christina Middle name Last name I told you that you CANNOT wear those to school."  I thought about her words as I went to my bedroom and removed my beaded treasures.  Then I slipped them into my back pack, zipped it, and skipped myself to the bus stop.  After all, she said I couldn't WEAR them to school, right?
      Right before our class had our pictures taken, we were given a moment to fix ourselves up a bit in the bathroom to make sure we looked nice enough to be displayed on the fireplace mantel the following month.  I looked decent I guess, until I slipped that beautious artwork over my head.  Then I was sharp enough to cut diamonds.  Fortunately for me, I remembered to remove the jewelry before getting off the bus.  Not sure why it never crossed my mind that Mom would actually see what I had done.  Hindsight is 20-20.  (She gave birth right about the time pictures came back. She was too distracted with the new baby to woodshed me.  God's mercy was evident in my life at a very young age.)
       Several years later as we stumbled upon my kindergarten photo, I immediately recognized her good judgment.  It turns out the beads really were hideous. "You were right, Mom. Those things are goofy looking.  You were right to tell me not to take them."  Her reply stunned me.  "I liked your beads because they were so important to you.  I didn't want you taking them because you lost everything you touched, and I knew you would cry when your necklace was gone." Whoa.  Revelation.
        I thought with all her "Do this", and "Don't do thats" she was just being stern for the heck of it.  Turns out she did that stuff out of love for me.  You know where I'm going with this. (I stole that from your blog, M.H.)
       The Bible is a big book of dos and don'ts.  God the father put them there because He loves us - not because He thinks we deserve to be beaten with a stick.  His commandments are there to keep us from harm.  He tells us plainly what will happen if we don't heed them, and He tells us plainly what will happen if we do.  He delights in our pleasure. The choice is ours.  Check out all the good he offered to the Isrealites (fancy word for Jews).  There are even bigger and better benefits available after Jesus was made alive again.  I hope you embrace His rules for your own darn good.  Because I, like God, delight in your pleasure.

As always,

I LOVE YOU

Christina Middle Name Last Name

P.S.  I DID lose the jewelry.

P.P.S.  I did something techie that I'm kinda proud of.  See that envelope icon down there?  If you click on that you can email this post to, well, whoever you want to.  May I recommend your mother?