Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Ignorance is Hysterical

By Cassie Glubzinski



I love when my kids play well together. Don't you?

I have to actually state that I love this because it doesn't happen as frequently as I would like.

Yeah. That.

When there is silence, I'm a bit concerned. When there are tears, I'm on the move. When there are combined giggles, I'm beside myself with joy!

The other day the girls were in the midst of fits of giggles. They had taken some of their toy pots and pans from their play kitchen and were running around my house with them on their heads.

So. Cute.

I smiled at the girls and said to them, "You girls are sillier than a bag of monkeys! What are you two up to?"

Gemma, my five year, stopped right in front of me and said, "Mommy! Mommy! We're potheads!"

Ummm... no you're not.

My smile swiftly changed into an expression of shock, and then one of complete hysteria. I seriously laughed so hard I cried, and of course my kids thought it was because of their antics, so they began chanting "Potheads! Potheads! We are potheads!" at the top of their lungs, which just made me laugh even harder.

I set them straight after a bit, once I was actually able to catch my breath.

And then, as I got to thinking about it, I realized how much I miss that. I miss my naiveté at times. I miss not knowing the world so well, and just being able to make someone smile because of crazy antics or one silly comment. I miss my untainted life.

But of course, that made me realize that my life was never untainted.

You got that? NEVER.

The Bible says, "...all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23). We all missed the mark. And our lives were tainted with our first breaths.

My mom says it this way, "Isn't funny that you don't have to teach your child how to sin? Rather, you have to teach them how to obey God."

So. True.

And amidst this dismal outlook, we receive the greatest promise: Jesus Christ. Scripture says, "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." (2 Corinthians 5:21) [emphasis mine].

Christ himself, the only one without sin, became the sacrifice to wipe away our sins. When we accept Christ, and God looks at us, He no longer sees our sin, but Christ's sacrifice. He sees righteousness.

Mind = Blown.

So, even though we can never be 'untainted' we can live knowing our lives are His and for His use. We can choose to focus on the good that He brings, and we can be tools to bring about more good.

It's not about naiveté, it's about grace. It's about love. It's about His sacrifice.

I'll never look at potheads the same again.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Sharing is Caring... right?

By Cassie Glubzinski

I have a kid in kindergarten.
[deep breath]
My daughter is already in kindergarten...
[breathe again]
Seriously, where did the time go?

She came home from school the other day and was so very excited. She held out for my inspection her first check out from the school library.

Very. Big. Deal.

Smiling from ear to ear she showed me, with no small amount of pride, the book that she wanted me to read to her when we got inside.

Now, I had to cock my head to the side and ask her sweetly, "Honeybee, we have this book at home already. Was there a reason you wanted to check it out from the library?"

"Yeah, Mommy. I don't like sharing it with sister, so I got my own book to borrow."

Well, that in and of itself was funny, except for the fact that the book is called "Llama Llama, Time To Share".

Sorry, Llama, but your message has not been received by my five year old.

But even as I was thinking of this I was also reminded of how I hoard things I think are mine. That's my car. That's my book. That's my computer. That's my kitchen. That's my house. That's my church. That's my...fill in the blank. And then I began to contemplate the heavenly perspective God would want me to adopt...

That's God's house, and He's letting me live in it.
That's God's kitchen, and He's letting me cook in it.
That's God's car, and He's letting me drive it.
That's God's computer, and He's letting me use it.
That's God's book, and He's letting me read it.
That's God's church, and He's calling me to serve in it.

A heavenly perspective leaves no room for selfishness, and trying to communicate that concept to kids is difficult. But it's not impossible. It is simply a process. And God granted me an amazing opportunity to cultivate a heavenly perspective in my children's little minds.

You see, just like Gemma got to borrow a book from the library, one she would return the next week, we get to borrow things from God. It's our responsibility to take good care of them, and when He needs them for a different purpose, we need to return them gratefully.

Mitch Albom wrote in his famous book, "Have a Little Faith" about how when we are born our hands are in fists. We hold tight to anything and everything we can. But when we die our hands are open, because we realize nothing in this world was ever meant to be held onto so tightly. Our souls were meant for worship in Heaven someday, and all we need is to let go.

Sharing is caring, indeed. I am praying this week that God will show me when He wants to be share, even when it will be uncomfortable.

Friday, September 1, 2017

Diapers and Pull Ups and Panties... Oh my!

So... It's officially one of the least favorite times for any momma at my house.
Ready?
Brace yourself...

Potty. Training.

I hate it. The constant wonder of whether an accident is lurking, or if I am going to be able to make it to the grocery bathroom before a clean up is needed on aisle four, and every other part.

I try really hard to get my kiddo excited about the prospect of being a "big girl" and wearing "big girl panties". As such, I took my little one shopping at Burlington Coat Factory (because it's awesomely inexpensive) and I walked her right up to the toddler and little girl panty display. I quickly grab every package that is her size (all three of them) and kneel in front of her. And I'm excited, because she looks excited, and usually that's a good sign, right? That means she's processing the fact that she is close, so very close, to closing the pull up and diaper chapter of her life for good!

So, kneeling in front of my curly haired cutie I ask her which one she likes best. And then, with bated breath, I wait to see how she will respond. Her little face scrunched up, and her eyes turned more pensive. After a few brief moments she told me, "Mommy, I'm poopy-yucky."

Well, that went well.

My kid officially pooped in her pull up while shopping with me for big girl panties.

Best. Mom. Ever.

And after she told me I did what any sane mother of a two and a half year old would do. I cracked up. I'm talking full blown belly laugh right in the middle of Burlington Coat Factory.

Classic.

I also bought all three packages of panties for her since I figured she would probably need the back ups.

This hasn't been the easiest summer for our family, but I had been praying that God would give me the courage and freedom to let go. And for me, laughing is a way of letting go.

So today, if you haven't already, ask God for the opportunity to let go a bit. I'm praying He will bring you something hilarious to share with all of us when we meet later this month!

Monday, August 14, 2017

Tombs and Temples

by Cassie Glubzinski

Summers are insane. Can I get an 'Amen'?

For some reason I spend the Spring looking forward to what I've idolized as a much needed 'summer break', and when it comes I find I've gotten whiplash from the sheer amount of things needing done: gutting the kids' toys and clothes now that the seasons have changed, packing the luggage for a car trip to go see family, planning outings and play dates almost every day in order to avoid my kids' boredom, contacting long lost college friends in hopes of reunions or at least long talks to catch up, and so much more. Life, at least at our house, tends to accelerate to alarming speeds as soon as 'breaks' appear on our calendar.

This summer was no different. The entire month of July saw us all home as a family for a whopping five days. Five days! and three of those five days my youngest daughter was sick with rotavirus (hooray for ER visits!). Yeah, we have a tendency to fill our schedule to the brim and then struggle to stay afloat...

But this summer brought a new joy to our family as well. My husband and I have been trying for eight months to have number three. Now, eight months isn't really all that long of a period of time, but for us it was unexpected. We've never had trouble conceiving before, so this was weighing on my heart heavily, and I was beginning to feel discouraged. I wanted so much to have another child, and I felt like a failure every month I didn't conceive.

But then I got home for one night before heading back out on the road, and God blessed me with a positive pregnancy test. I was beyond thrilled! As soon as my husband came home from work I shared the amazing news with him, and we found a fun way to tell our parents as well. I was only five weeks along, but I was already so deeply in love with this little child.

We made our way to New York for a wedding, and then to Pennsylvania to pick up our kiddos from my husband's parents. They, too, were excited for us, and our daughters vehemently insisted that they wanted only a baby brother (Newsflash: mommies and daddies don't get to pick the gender of their baby). It was a treasured moment.

We got home and began telling a few close friends and dearly loved ones, and our joy was great to share. I felt so amazingly content, excited, and simply full.

Then Wednesday I started to feel funny. I had some pains through the day in my abdomen, but didn't want to think the worst. When my husband was getting ready to board the Metro I had him meet me at Walter Reed. After a few hours in the ER our fears were confirmed: our baby was gone.

This was our second miscarriage. The first was in between our girls, and I was eight weeks along. This baby left us at only six weeks, yet the hurt seemed to linger on a far deeper level. All those feelings of failure resurfaced on a new level, and they made valiant attempts to consume me.

But God is so good. The morning after the news of the miscarriage I was reading my Bible. I happened to be in 1 Corinthians, and was reading the passage about sexual morality. Paul is exhorting the Corinthians to remain pure, because their bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (verse 19). The thought resonated with me. I had awoken to the feeling that my body was a tomb. And the Lord used that moment to remind me that my body is His temple.

My body was not designed to be a tomb. I was designed for worship. I was designed for a purpose. I may feel like a failure sometimes, but I am never a failure because God still resides in me. I am His temple.

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies." - 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

The Girl Needs Help

By Cassie Glubzinski


So my youngest has been sick this week.

Rotavirus.

So.
Not.
Fun.

She's been miserable and downright lethargic. Poor thing hasn't even really had much of an appetite either (which is HIGHLY unusual for her).

This morning I took her to the ER because she had been complaining that her tummy hurt while writhing in pain quite a bit yesterday and last night. Broke my heart.

After seeing the doc, getting some meds, and eating two grape popsicles we were on our way back home with strict instructions to quarantine her, disinfect everything, and call if anything changed for the worst.

As we gathered up our belongings to leave I set Evolet down on the hospital bed in order to pack everything away. She insisted on keeping her water cup and her snuggle blanket in her arms, and she had a death grip on her little cup of Cheerios. Her small arms weren't quite able to wrap around all of her treasures. She looked at me with the sweetest little expression and quietly stated, "Mommy, the girl needs help."

I kind of froze for a moment. Those five little words were so powerful to me in that situation. All night last night I was up with this little cutie trying to comfort her while praying we could both get some sleep, I kept thinking about my to do list. I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, we have a dear friend coming to town tomorrow and staying the night, my five year old has sports camp this week that's twenty minutes away (we are in the car quite a bit), we have a ceremony to attend on Friday, a concert Friday night, boating on Saturday as well as a surprise birthday party Saturday night. We have church on Sunday, and I have another meeting Sunday afternoon. And then the icing on the cake is that we are leaving for vacation on Monday, and I still need to pack.

This was what was running through my head all night last night. How was I going to make it all happen flawlessly? I'm the stay at home wife and mom, and it's my job, exclusively, to get all this done and taken care of [not to mention meals, the laundry, cleaning the house, and of course Mommy's Chauffeur Service].

But looking into this sweet little girl's eyes as she tried desperately to juggle her treasures I realized that even though she said she needed help, really I was the one who needed help.

This girl needs help.

I need help realizing it's NOT THE END OF THE WORLD when life doesn't go exactly as I think it should.

There is such beauty to be seen in the chaos. It's a colorful mosaic of life if we let it be.

God never intended for me to dwell on my to do list. I did that completely on my own, and I needed His help in that moment to simply be in the moment.

I needed to look at this time of comforting my little girl for what it was: the opportunity to snuggle my precious daughter, because she won't be that little to snuggle with for long. I needed to chuck the to do list because it was distracting me from my true job: being a godly wife and mother.

You can't make your faith a box you check. It's so much more than a task. It's an identity.

And if you are having trouble getting to that point pray the same prayer I did:
The girl needs help.