zach n kali

Worship is a wonderful thing.  To live your whole life as such is something to strive for. I heard a story about a man who would set his alarm throughout the day to remind himself to stop and pray, with the goal being that he would train himself to always be in the Spirit.  But some days worship is the last thing on our minds.  Sometimes your environment - sometimes the very thing that makes you want to worship - tries to keep you from doing just that.  The nature that usually brings you closer to the Lord is suddenly hailing giant pellets on you as you run across the parking lot or blowing your lawn chairs across the pool.  The music that usually transports you to another place screeches in your ears as the microphones give off nasty feedback.  And sometimes "Mama!" is the last thing you want to be called.  The sound of your name being called for the umpteenth time as you are trying to have a conversation with another adult is grating to your ears.  The little body that usua

Over the past few months I've been in somewhat of a drought. A dark night of my soul, if you will. I haven't felt fulfilled. I haven't felt productive. I haven't felt like myself. I've wondered whether or not I should re-enter the workforce, whether we should take another foster placement, whether I can get away with spending the day in bed because I just feel so blah.   When I went to the dentist the other day, she asked how in the world I could possibly stay home with two little ones. She never would have the patience. Considering what I look like at the end of most days, I don't really have an answer.  Trust me, I do not have super-natural patience.  I've tried reading self-help books with campy titles such as The Stay At Home Mom Survival Guide and Stay Home, Stay Happy, hoping to find some validation, some joy, some peace.  And yet I still feel like I'm paying $300 a month to wipe bottoms (thanks, student loans!).   I've been struggling late