Dissimulation is a Big Word

"What arts of dissimulation are those tempted to use who govern themselves by fleshly wisdom! and how happy are those who have not known these depths of Satan, but have their conversation in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity!" -Matthew Henry's Commentary on 2 Samuel 16

-----Confession: I looked up dissimulation, because I don't know ALL the words. Maybe you already know what it means. Good job. For the rest of us, basically it means "concealment of one's thoughts, feelings, or character." Also known as "faking it." So basically it's something I generally suck at. I've never been good at hiding how I really feel. Ask anyone I know, they'll tell you. Even when I try to hid me feelings, my face always gives me away. And right now, after reading that Mr. Henry considers it to be "fleshly wisdom" in the "depths of Satan" (Yikes) I am ever so thankful for that fact that it's something I suck at!! Sheesh!

In 2 Samuel, dissimulation was what Hushai was doing to Absalom, after Absalom tried to overthrow King David. Basically Hushai was pretending to be on Absalom's side when he was really on King David's side. He was kind of a spy, which I guess makes his dissimulation more acceptable, considering the circumstances, but it got me thinking about how much it sounds like either an episode of Alias or Glee. I can't decide which one. It's a fine line, really. (In other news, anyone who says the Bible is boring never read the Old Testament... Holy Soap Opera, Batman!!)

So, after much thought, here's my philosophy on dissimulation. It is taken from the great scholar, Meg Ryan, in the movie French Kiss...

"Happy=Smile; Sad=Frown; Use the corresponding face for the corresponding emotion!!"

( I know, I'm super intellectual.)

...But then there's my Grandma Eloise who always told us to "Say what you mean and mean what you say." That always sticks with me. And Jesus Himself tells us in Matthew to let our "Yes be yes and our No be no." So there's that.

Not everyone does this "being real" thing by nature, apparently. Many people are really good at dissimulation. I mean really good. Some of us are experts at faking it. We filter our selfies on Instagram and Snapchat. We post cute pictures of our dogs and kids on Facebook, even though we've had a terrible day. We smile when we're dying inside. We laugh at jokes when we're deeply offended. How much of this is actually dissimulation? Are we concealing who we really are?

Why do we deceive one another so much? Why do we pretend to be someone we are not? Sometimes it's not really intentional deception but just a knee-jerk reaction of protection against a threatening person or environment. But then the question begs... why do we regularly put ourselves in an environment where this is a necessary thing??? Why do we remain in a place where we cannot be accepted as we truly are??

We might say to ourselves, "My boss/parent/friend/teacher/pastor/sibling/whatever can't be trusted with who I really am so I just pretend to be someone else so he/she doesn't reject me." I mean, there are always going to be spaces where we aren't fully known and accepted. We can't live in a bubble. But in general, the places that we are spending most of our energy should hopefully be places where we can be ourselves, right?

So here's a question: How much do you dissimulate? Can you be yourself most of the time??? I hope so! If not: Booooooo. I've been there. It's soul-crushing to constantly be in a place where you feel like you have to dissimulate to be accepted. The truth is you are awesome. You are enough. And I know it's cliche, but I'm gonna say it anyway because it's Truth: God does NOT make mistakes. Your own, REAL, loving personality is needed. Right where you are. Right now. And if you're not accepted as you truly are with the people you spend most of your time and energy around, can I encourage you to earnestly seek God and ask Him if maybe it's time to go be yourself somewhere else. Somewhere you can be loved and appreciated for the fantastic person you are!

Something to think about :)

Broken Together

Exodus 3:10-14; 4:1 "Now go, for I am sending you to Pharaoh. You must lead my people Israel out of Egypt.”  But Moses protested to God, “Who am I to appear before Pharaoh? Who am I to lead the people of Israel out of Egypt?”  God answered, “I will be with you. And this is your sign that I am the one who has sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God at this very mountain.”  But Moses protested, “If I go to the people of Israel and tell them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ they will ask me, ‘What is his name?’ Then what should I tell them?”  God replied to Moses, “I am who i am" ...But Moses protested again, “What if they won’t believe me or listen to me? What if they say, ‘The Lord never appeared to you’?”

I was going through some old writings and found this that I wrote back in January of 2014.  It made my heart soften with remembrance and it amazed me that the Truth is still the Truth.  Even two years later.  I want to share it with you...

-----

1/11/14

Can I just say that I love worship practice.  I'll say it again: I. LOVE. Worship practice.  I love coming in when the sanctuary is quiet and dim, and I love the small talk as we set up, checking in with the worship crew.  Getting started by praying over the sanctuary.  Laughing when we totally screw up on a song and then trying again.  Then watching as the inevitable happens - we forget we are in "practice" and we enter the Presence.  I love these people.  I love this music.  I love my God.  So worship practice is pretty much as close to heaven as I will ever get here on earth.

In practice, the lie of perfection is so quickly squelched.  The masks are off.  We are loved and accepted for who we are - just a bunch of imperfect people doing our best to praise a Perfect God.  It's so beautiful.  And the grace... Oh, the grace!  The precious grace that is extended during these times.  We accept the face that the Mommy is late because her kiddos were misbehaving (that would be me, usually.)  That the guitar player is missing chord changes because he's had a really rough week at work.  That sometimes the leader's voice cracks because we've sung a high riff twenty time in a row so we can get it right and his poor vocal chords are spent.  

We can be ourselves.  We can be vulnerable.  We can be known.  Our offerings are broken and messy, but there is beauty because they are pure.

I wish it felt like this on Sunday morning...

Why is it that when the lights come up and the pews are filled that I all of a sudden feel so inadequate?  I mean, I know it's natural to be nervous in front of a crowd.  But I think it's more than that for me.  I've never minded speaking in front of a crowd.  I think it's something else.  Like I'm supposed to bring more to the mic than what I have within me.

Like I'm not enough.

A fellow worship buddy and I were talking today after practice about how he feels completely unqualified to fulfill the role he believes God has called him to.  He wonders if somehow wires got crossed and God got the wrong guy.  He even suggested another person to fulfill his role, sure that he was not enough for the task.  I just hugged him.  I wanted to remind him of Moses and his speech problem.  Of Sarah and her barren womb.  Of Rahab and her broken past.

...of Alyssa and her total lack of proper writing training... the fact that I feel like a fraud every time I sit down to write anything at all.

There are literally thousands of people out there, just in my lil' suburban community, who are way more qualified to do the thing that God is calling me to do.  So many experienced writers, published authors, skilled theologians, who do so much better at this than a goofy, quirky, messed up mommy of two, knee deep in school art projects, LEGOs and peanut butter.

So I'm discussing this matter with Jesus as I leave the sanctuary.  [Because I've been challenged. I've not just been to practice.  I've been to church.]  And it was one of those times when I could almost audibly hear the voice of Jesus in the room...

Lyssa... Your job is not to worry about the details or how everything will all fall together.

Your job is simple.

Trust and obey.

I thought about how I was going to try to tell my buddy that God's strength is made perfect in our weakness.  That Jesus' power held Peter up in a stormy sea.  All Peter had to do was take one step. Get out of the boat.  That's it.  That our job is to seek first the Kingdom and trust in the LORD with all our heart and lean not on our own understanding.

But the truth is... I needed to tell it to the mirror first.

The truth is, the longer I live the more I realize that nobody in the center of God's will feels equipped and worthy to do what God has called them to.  And I think that's the point.

-----

Yep.  Still there.  

The scenery may change, but the road is the same.  

Am I enough?  Can I do this?  The truth is no, I can't.  

But that's the beauty of the whole mess.  God take our crazy imperfections, our brokenness, our shame, our inadequacies, and makes amazing masterpieces.

And we look so much more beautiful when we are broken together.

Tomorrow is Sunday.

Can I challenge you?

Leave the mask in the parking lot.  Bring your honest, broken self to worship tomorrow.  Be real. Be you.  I promise, you are not the only mess.  

Because I'll be there, too.

If We're Honest

My Spirit Animal

I used to think my spirit animal was a wolf.  I'm fiercely loyal to my pack. Once you're in, you're in for life.  Mess with my tribe and you're gonna get my razor sharp teeth in your hind quarters.

But lately I feel more like a mama bear coming out of hibernation.
A post-hibernation mama bear.
Is that a spirit animal?

I always see this poor sweet thing on the Discovery Channel and feel such a deep sense of empathy for her...

-------

Mama Bear is coming out of her cave, baby cubs crawling all over her like a jungle gym,  She's been snuggling in her warm, dark, relatively quiet beds with her tiny cubs for months.  She's enjoyed peace and tranquility within the walls of her soft, safe family cave.  

Wasn't Advent, like, yesterday? Where's the Christmas tree?  Why is there not a fire in the fireplace?
Where's my fuzzy blanket and my hot cocoa?  Somebody sing "Silent Night" right now!!

And then... the birds start chirping.  The cubs are growing restless.  The cave feels less warm & snuggly and more hot and stinky.  And the sun!  Ugh! The sun is out so. Much.
The mama bear must face the truth.  Her Long Winter's Nap is now over.  It's time to -pause to brace one's bearself- go outside.

Don't the birds know that spring isn't officially here until March 20th?!  It's like they don't have an iCal app on their phones at all. Ugh. 

Spring.  BLERG.

Mama Bear stumbles into the bright sunlight.  "Ugh. I'm so fat!  Why am I so fat?!  AND hungry?!  Darn you, nature and your cruel irony!"  Her cubs sprawl and squeal all around her. "Annnnd they're hungry too.  Awesome.  I need a nap."

Seriously WHAT. THE. WHAT.  I'm a house.  I don't remember eating ALL THE FOOD IN THE WORLD.  Why is this happening?!?! I need a snack.

Mama Bear tries to get her four legs under her and start the search for food, but has to simultaneously keep the babies from getting stuck in trees and falling off cliffs.  And why oh WHY is the sun so bright?! 

Time to exercise.  In the actual outdoors.  Go for a walk or something.  But it's like I'm a newborn baby dear.  I trip over nothing and look around to make sure that my neighbors didn't see.  And as I'm looking around, protecting my dignity... I trip again.  Am I a toddler??? What is the deal?!?!  And walking WITH my little people... forget about it.  They are seven blocks ahead of me and some stranger is looking at them and thinking "what kind of mother would let those poor children walk down this street all alone?"  I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU JERK, I'M THE ONE FALLING OVER MY OWN SHOES BREATHING LIKE I'M IN A MARATHON, TRYING TO CATCH UP WITH HUMAN GAZELLES!! 
I hate everything.

Eventually Mama Bear captures food (some other poor soul who left their hibernation that didn't want to) and the cubs are full and for a few brief minutes... their full bellies make them rest.
Ahhhhh... Nap time.
Mama rests.  But not completely.  She must continue her vigilance over her cubs.  She keeps watch as she makes peace with the sun, the birds and the incessant noise of squirrels.  

Now I'm sweaty, tired and I must sit down.  But nope. It's 5:00. And I'm a mom.
Dinner.  Why oh why does everyone demand dinner EVERY. SINGLE. DAY!  
And hey, look at a calendar, you crazy animals and for the love of everything stop chirping and scampering all over my house at FREAKING FOUR THIRTY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!!

Cubs are up.  Joy.  Mama wants to growl at the world.  It's too cruel.  Then the babies start frolicking and discovering.  They play-fight with one another, they try to eat a flower, they attempt to chase squirrels ...and she remembers the joy.  Her strength starts to return and the Long Winter's Nap is slowly melting away and blooming into the energy of Spring.  

Breathe it in... Ahhhh. I have to admit, Spring smells so good.  It makes me sneeze a little, but it's totally worth it.  Hey! My forsythia bushes are blooming!  And my yard is not a shade of "deep depression brown" anymore, it's kind of ... green! And oh yeah!  Easter is coming!! Yay!  
And BASEBALL!!! WOOT!!!

-----

So yeah, I think Mama Bear is my new spirit animal.  Mixed with Salvador Perez.  And a little newborn baby dear  ... and some Michael Franti.

Oh, someone please draw this.

...but seriously, how did I get so fat?!?!

Dear Joe (Can I call you Joe?)

Dear Joe,

I feel like I can call you Joe, is that ok?  I know most people refer to you in your full name, but after pouring over your story I feel like we're BFFs, y'know?  Hopefully you're not offended by my informality, but anyway, moving on...

Joe.... brother, your story has just overcome me lately.  It keeps popping up in my life and honestly, I think it's providence.  I am just so amazed at how your life and all of its injustices played out for you. I guess it's because I'm kind of a wrestling, tossing & turning, hot mess over my own injustices right now.  I keep thinking about life not being fair and I cannot help but think about what you went through...

I mean, just look at your story, Joe; it's INSANE.  First of all, your bothers hated you. All seventy jillion of them. (or eleven, whatever, eleven is a LOT for us nowadays.)  I mean they legit wanted you to die.  That's some true hate.  Don't get me wrong, if my little sister bragged about being Daddy's favorite and pranced around in a fancy outfit like you did, I might have some issues with her. But I'd never want to end her life! Sheesh. Sanity has left the building.

And then your brothers thought they had done such a noble thing by choosing not to kill you and instead, oh I dunno... just to SELL YOU INTO SLAVERY.  Um.... wow.  How noble of them.  You're hated by your own flesh and blood. You're sold into slavery to serve people you've been taught are God's rejects.  And to top it off, they stole your cool coat!

Then life just spiraled right down to crazy town for you. (As if it hadn't already.)  Everything from slavery to false sexual harassment charges to prison.  What a freakin' disaster, Joe.  Honestly, I have no idea how you functioned.  Did you function? Didn't you just freak out?!  I think if it were me, I'd keep going back to the fact that none of this poo would've happened to me had my own family not treated me like garbage.  I mean, that's the crux of the matter.  All this terribleness because your own brothers were selfish, pretentious jerks that saw you as a threat to their prosperity.  You weren't a brother to be loved.  You were a pebble in their shoe.  Seriously, that would have crushed me.

Did it crush you, Joe?  I mean, I know that eventually you got up.  You fought on.  You climbed the ladder, slowly and steadily winning the race, ending up as City Manager of Cairo... but did you lay awake at night, watch the stars through prison bars and think about the life you lost?  The life that was stolen from you... by those you most loved and trusted?  Did you secretly hope they were suffering in Canaan from a plague or a famine? Wow... if you did, how crazy was it that then they show up at your door begging for help?!  Talk about poetic justice!! That's what I would've thought! I'd have been like,"Karma sucks, don't it, boys!!!" (Cue mic drop)

I guess because, if I'm honest... that's where I am in my process of experiencing injustice.  I feel like you can handle my honesty, right Joe?  I'm in that place where I fight toddler tantrums about twenty times a day.  So many thoughts and conversations that make me so angry and hurt and jaded that I wanna throw myself on the floor, kicking so hard my shoes fly off, and scream "NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR! NOT FAAAIIRRRR!!!" until everyone in the super market feels sorry for my mother.  I know that eventually I'm going to have to process all of my feelings like a grownup. (Blerg) But right now I am giving myself permission to scream in my pillow until my husband tells me I'm scaring the children.

Is that why you waited so long to tell them when they came to you, begging for help, who you really were?  Before my own little brush with injustice I always thought it was so weird the way your resolution came about. Now I'm thankful it wasn't clean cut and quick.  I'm thankful you weirded out a little! It makes me feel more normal.  You probably needed some time to process.  Talk about experiencing all the feelings all at once!  Joy at the sight of long lost family.  Anger at the sight of the poop heads who threw you in a pit and lied about you to your father.  Fear of what this meant in the scheme of your life.  Grief over their situation.  Compassion and love and the desire to take care of them.  Temptation to seek vengeance.  Bitterness and contempt at their total ignorance that it was you, their brother.  I mean, I'm just spit balling here! I bet there were many more emotions.

But you finally gathered your gumption by the grace of God, and you uttered these words to your homies that absolutely blow my mind every time I read them:

"What you intended for evil, God intended for good."

Dude.

Just... Dude.

I want to be in that place. Eventually. I am striving toward the day I can look injustice square in the face and say, 

"... God is bigger than you. He can make beautiful things out of poo. So on we go." 

Or something.  Not as poetic as your version, but still.  That's my goal. 

Until then, I pour over your story.  I keep the pillow-screamings to a dull roar.  And I take solace in the fact that I threw five less tantrums today than I did yesterday.

Long story short, Joe, I want to say thank you.  Thank you for walking out the crappy hand that life dealt you in a perfectly imperfect way that helps me remember that our God is huge.  And nothing we screw up is beyond His creative, redeeming hand.

And my goodness- if He can redeem your hot mess...

Well, maybe there's hope for mine.

Thank you, Joe.





Sincerely,

Lyss

The 7 Habits of World Series Champions

Hey, you guys...

THE ROYALS WON THE WORLD SERIES.

I'm still not over it. I know, it was last month.  The parade was a crazy circus of mayhem that I will never get over and neither will the seventy jillion other people that were there, but it was weeks ago. I need to move on.  I should be on to other important things like searching for ridiculously impossible Thanksgiving recipes on Pinterest that will make me wish I was never born, but I just cannot even.  My house still has a ridiculous amount of blue in it, considering it's almost December.  Blue pumpkins. Blue flags. Blue bobbleheads on the mantle (Love me some Salvy & LoCain!!)  Because Oh. My. WORD. Do we LOVE our Kansas City Royals up in here!!!  Now I know I tend to be a bit dramatic (GASP!) but I'm telling you these boys brought me to the verge of a nervous breakdown so many times this season, I was sure my neighbors were calling 9-1-1.  What a ride!  and they have so much fun doing it!! They're so genuine and down-to-earth we all feel like they are part of our family!  

I guess the main thing that keeps me from throwing out the blue pumpkins and putting the bobbleheads away is the fact that these dudes didn't just play baseball.  I mean, they did do that. They crushed it. But they have been the ultimate object lesson for my kids this fall.  And for me. 

You see, our kids attend an amazing elementary school that teaches the "7 Habits," based on the book by Steven Covey.  It's infused into every activity, every lesson, every assembly in the building.  It's plastered on every wall, stamped on every worksheet, it's basically right after the bible right now in the lives of my cherubs.  Which at first I thought was a little much. Until I actually read the book myself.  You guys. Stop reading my blog right now and go read this book. The end.  I love it. It's actually quite biblical. And the amazing thing is that there have been countless times over the past few years that we have, as a family, been able to sit down and watch a Royals game (or jump and scream and holler and roll all over the floor, because OH THE DRAMA) and we witness time and time again our Boys in Blue living out these 7 Habits.  On the field. In the clubhouse. In the locker room. On Instagram. All day er'day.  These guys are great role models for my kids!!

  
Here's a breakdown for you of things I got to say on a regular basis during a game:

Habit #1: Be Proactive - Left Fielder, Alex Gordon

"Look at Alex! He's so focused! So disciplined.  Way to be proactive, huh!" 

Well done, Gordo.  Also, stay in KC or I will die.  Thank you for exemplifying the act of taking charge of your own life. You're amazing!

Habit #2: Begin With the End in Mind - Manager, Ned Yost

"Guys, calm down, he knows what he's doing, he's got the end in mind. "

Way to take chances and see the big picture, Ned.  Thank you for teaching my kids to keep their eyes on the prize.

Habit #3: Put First Things First - Second Baseman, Ben Zobrist

"Aw, look you guys! He loves his family so much!  And he loves Jesus too, you can tell by how he loves others!"

Thank you, Ben, for reinforcing family values on and off the field.  Also... your new baby's middle name won't make sense if you leave.  Stay.  The end.

Habit #4: Think Win-Win - Catcher, Salvador Perez

"Aw, sweet Salvy, look how he's talking with Ventura and the batter, calming him down. He's making peace by finding win-win. See, that's why everybody listens to him, he cares about everyone!"

Salvy, you are my spirit animal. Never change.  Thank you for showing my kids what it looks like to love everyone. All the time. No exceptions.  Please come to our house and take selfies with us. 

Habit #5: Seek First to Understand, Then Be Understood - Third Baseman, Mike Moustakas

"Oh, wow, you guys.  See how Moose could have freaked out, but instead he's trying to see it from the ref's point of view.  They say he's out, so he's out, and he respects that.  Way to seek first, Moose."

Moose, you are a hero. We love you! Thank you for being a perfect example of grace under fire.  Stay loose, Moose!

Habit #6: Synergize - Shortstop, Alcides Escobar

"Did you see how Esky hit that sacrifice fly ball so Hosmer could make it home?! What a great  way to score a run without being selfish! Synergy is so great!" 

"WOW!! Did you see that toss to Infante?! That's some synergy right there!!!"

Esky... in an entire team of syergizers, you are the ultimate team player. Thank you for teaching my kids about working together to achieve your goals!!

Habit #7: Sharpen the Saw - First Baseman, Eric Hosmer

"Isn't that great how Hoz makes sure he connects with our community.  He's not just about baseball.  He's got a great handle on balance!"

Hoz, you have touched the lives of so many kids. You truly lead a balanced life and have been a shining example of what it means to take care of yourself.  Also, you are dreamy, so thank you for that. 



Habit #8 that I made up and is not in the book but I did it anyway:
Persevere.

To ALL my Boys in Blue, you've taught my kids what it's like to play a game and live a life of balance, kindness, fun and tenacity.  But the most important thing you've taught this mama... When you're down and out and it's the bottom of the 9th, the game has just begun.  Never turn off the TV in the 8th inning. Never leave the stadium at the 7th inning stretch.  Don't count it a loss before it's over.  My win is just around the corner.  My life is No Fluke.  Nobody can hijack my destiny.  Or yours.

NEVER. GIVE. UP.  

...That'll preach, boys.  

Go Royals.  Now go have a Remy Martin and we'll see you in February!! 

There's Always Rice and Beans

I've decided to end my blogging hiatus with a little Johnson Family Storytime.  So sit back, relax and just for a moment enjoy a little glimpse into our summer and our totally normal life...


Once upon a time I made my family eat rice and beans for three days straight and the universe exploded.
The end.

(That's how I like to tell the story when my friends ask.)

But maybe I should elaborate...

Once upon a time, two of my dear friends recommended that I read the book "7: an Experimental Mutiny Against Excess." by Jen Hatmaker.  And my life changed. For. Ev. Verrrr.  Now I buy organic, local, fair trade everything and I never microwave anything in plastic and I drive my husband crazy with updates from International Justice Mission.  To put it in layman's terms, the scales fell from my eyes and I realized how materialistic and spoiled I am living in white, middle-class America.

So, one Sunday my children were complaining about the restaurant choice that Luke and I made after church. And the whining caused me to slightly lose it. I think I said, out loud, "That's it, Y'KNOW WHAT?!? 90% of the children in the world WON'T EAT AT ALL TODAY!!! You want THAT option instead" (yeah, that percentage is not true, but I was proving a point. This was no time for "accuracy" and "true facts"- please...)  Anyway I said something that I thought, at the time, was just part of a dramatic rant.  I declared that "starting tomorrow, we will be eating rice and beans.  For THREE DAYS! That's it.  Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.  Rice and beans.  The end."

And then Luke says, "Good idea!"
And I was like, um.....what?
And then he said I was absolutely right!
um.....I'm sorry, what?
Luke then decided that we should learn what it's like to eat like the rest of the world.  And "if we actually ate like most of the planet, we'd really only eat once a day, not three times."
This is what is feels like to be right! It's oddly unsettling...

So after much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth from the back seat people, I went to the store and bought like 70 jillion cans of black beans.  And 20 pounds of rice.  Because what the what is going on.

After thinking about it some more that evening, I was quite proud of us. Bring it, tough lessons!!! We got this!  This is gonna be great!  Our kids are never gonna complain about anything ever again!! We're going to be famous for being the best parents God ever made!!! WOOT!  I even made some batches of rice & beans ahead of time so that my usual "I hate everything" attitude in the morning didn't sabotage the greatness.

Monday morning... I like to refer to this part as the "poker face phase."  The littles were all prepared in their spirits before coming down the stairs for their first R&B breakfast. (Ha! R&B...) and they were like, "Oh, this is so yummy, Mom! I love doing this, I think we should do this for FIVE days, not three!!"

Nice try, people.

Monday Lunch...same thing

Monday Dinner....same song, less convincing verse...

Honestly, I love rice & beans.  I was kind of enjoying the fact that I didn't have to think about meal planning or extensive cooking!  Throw the rice in the rice cooker, throw the beans in the microwave.
BOOM. Done.

Then there was Tuesday...
The children came down the stairs, saw their R&B breakfast...
And they lost it.

"NOOOOOOO, Mom!  We get it, we won't complain anymore, just PLEEEEEASE!!!"
Honestly, it was hilarious.  I kind of wish I had videotaped it.
Omiword I'm a terrible mother.

Fast-forward... after refusing to eat breakfast, 10:30am came around and they were hungry.
All I said was, "There's rice and beans in the fridge!" and went back to whatever I was doing.
Thus began Freakout #2.  #2 of, like, 147 that day.
So, yyyyyeah, Tuesday sucked.
BUT, despite what their grandmother predicted, they did not die and they were learning a very important lesson.

Wednesday, I woke up early and sautéed last night's rice & beans in garlic and olive oil for breakfast. And you'd think it was Christmas morning, people.  The kids raced down the stairs exclaiming "that smells so good!! Oh, thank you, Mommy!!!"

Wow. What a difference three days made!!! We did it!!

And then they never complained about food ever again, the end.

Kidding! Please, people, we weren't eating rice and MAGIC beans!! We still have our moments like any other family.  We still have an occasional eye that rolls when leftover night is upon us.  But now we have a personal family story that we can always go back to that reminds us of the time when Mom & Dad went psycho and we learned a valuable lesson of thankfulness and counting our blessings.

I also learned a lesson, too... I was able to hold my ground when it was important.  I also re-learned that man, oh man, did I marry a stubborn dude.  (Which came in handy this particular week!)

So, if you're ever sharing a meal with Team Johnson and one of us complains about the food, you hereby have my permission to reply with this little magic phrase:

"Hey! There's always rice and beans!!"

What in the world are we doing?

I'm so done right now.
A series of events have unfolded in my faith-community that have me broken-hearted and absolutely livid at the same time.  What is our problem!!! I mean....URAUGH!!! Sometimes I think the Church is like those ants that march in a circle over and over and over until they die.  They just drop dead.  Because they were so focused on following the ant-butt in front of them and making pot-luck dishes and writing a note to the board about the pastor's tie and singing "Holiness Unto The Lord" that they forgot to look up and LIVE!

The other day Abby asked me what the Big Bang Theory was. Max of course said "It's Grampa's favorite TV show, duh!" And I laughed. A lot. And then Abby said, "No not the tv show the actual Big Bang Theory! What is it?" I told her that some scientists have a theory about how the universe came into existence. I explained it to her the best I could, because I'm a mom and a barista and an aspiring writer/speaker, the end. Not a scientist. But I didn't wreck the car while explaining it so I'm putting it in the win column.

And she said, "Oh.  Ok, well, could it be real?"

And y'know what I said, people....

"I dunno, babe... Maybe."

And then we all went straight to hell.

NOPE.  That's NOT what happened.

It opened a door for my babies to think it through on their own.  And they came to the conclusion that maybe God started it all out with a Big Bang- Or maybe He didn't!  Maybe He made us a different way.  But y'know what they didn't question: God made us & His love for us is real.  Because they knew that as FACT.

People, what are we so afraid of?  Why are we not willing to go there?
Not just in science but with all the tough stuff.
Why do we squelch the "Why?"  Why do we stifle anything "outside the hymnal?"
We're only hurting ourselves.
Oh. And our children.
And our church.
And all the people Jesus loves.
Which is, y'know... all the people IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.

I'm done doing the ant dance.  I'm through with the same-old blah.
I wanna sit at Jesus' feet and let Him teach me something new!
What say YOU?  Join me!

Ask the questions.
Dare to wonder.
Eat with sinners.
Paint outside the lines.
Have your fire pit in the driveway and invite the neighbors.
Give money to the man on the corner without asking him what he'll do with it.
Raise a hand in church.
Or BOTH (gasp!)
Our Jesus and His Word can handle all of it.
God's pretty big.
After all, He made you.... and He sure does love you to pieces.

(Luke 10:1-42)