~When It's Time To Stop~

"The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps." Proverbs 16:9

I've always loved that verse. 

I remember being in my mid and latter teen years, when there were "big" decisions to be made, when the sky was the limit, when the world was mine, when the options were limitless…

I took such comfort in knowing that God was working in my every day human existence. 

Sort of takes the pressure off, in my mind. 

I no longer have to sound super spiritual and attribute every decision I make to the handwriting on the wall.

If my heart is, 

Lord give me wisdom

God, please open and close doors as you see fit

Jesus, help me want what you want

God, it's your way I want, not mine…then I can trust Him to direct as a walk.

See, He is weaving Himself in and out of the every day ordinary…the very fiber of our being.

Prayer happens all through the day...when I drive, when I'm in car line, when I breathe, when I'm going to sleep, when I'm in the shower…when something is on my heart, I "pray without ceasing".

I love the rest and peace that comes with total surrender. 

All that to say, while there are some decisions that require an extraordinary amount of prayer and council, the majority of them seem to be a matter of,

use your head, Stacey

what seems like the wise thing to do?

what does Brad think?

what do I feel the most peace in?

is this thing consistent with who we are as a family…does it line up with our overall general goals?...

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

…which brings me to this thing called gymnastics.

Our girls have all done it, but Reese in particular has done almost nothing but this.  

In my experience, it's a sport you can't really do halfway. Progressing means you learn new skills, new skills mean new levels, new levels mean more gym time…you get the point. 

Reese has had a measured amount of ability in it, 
has loved it 97% of the time, 
has had the same wonderful coaches for the 6 years that she's trained, 
and has learned invaluable life lessons in the midst of it. 

Without boring you with the details, it has become very clear over the last 6 months or so 
that it is time to stop.

God answered my prayer that my 12 year old would have the ability to be decisive in this, all on her own. (If you know her at all, you know she is so amiable, that she has to work hard to speak her mind if she thinks it will upset something or someone)

Seeing her make this decision with little to no parental steering, 
watching her bravely tell her gymnastics loving, internationally acclaimed, Russian coaches, who have loved and trained her for years, that, when the season was over, she was ready to "retire", has been nothing short of a miracle. 

Simply put,
she has grown tired of being gone from 5 to nearly 9 four nights a week. 
she wants to babysit 
...to eat supper with us instead of after us
to be on the cheer team at school
she wants to cook
"Mom, I just want to be home more to play outside in the afternoons"

since she made the decision final, she's been giddy in a way that she hasn't been in a while. 
bless her little 12 year old heart.

yep...when it's time to stop…you just know.



AND! ...as the CEO of Wall Household Activities Incorporated, I have made the command decision that while we are at it, 

all the Wall girls are hanging up their leotards.

Avery would just as soon do tumbling only and she and Reese are tight, so that was easy. 

Emma...well she is 6 so she can't possibly know what's best for her or really even what she wants.

we tried multiple times to start conversations about whether or not she should continue and somehow, we always ended up in RandomConversationville
"if I quit, I won't learn new skills"
"well, I don't know any kids in first grade"
or "Jake bossed me around today"
"well, I can't quit because the coaches will miss me" 

Bottom line? She is 6. She can't even deal with this decision.

she's an unusually perceptive kid and doesn't want to upset the apple cart.

...she also wants to do whatever is in front of her that looks like fun…because she's 6. 

and because she is 6, she's incredibly fickle.

gymnastics practice? no thank you, the neighbors asked me to play, so I'd rather stay home.

meets? yes please, because I get to perform and put glitter in my hair. all day every day please.

So! The CEO decided for her. Being the boss of them is a perk that comes with the job.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Last meet is tomorrow.

Regionals for Reese in Tennessee.

I cried writing letter to Coach Sasha and Coach Louiza.

I cried buying them a thank you gift.

I cried last night opening Reese's nasty, chalky, smelly box of grips and wrist guards that she brought 

home from her last…last practice. weird to type that.

I'm hoping I won't cry at the meet tomorrow…but I'm thinking I might. 

To not be a crier, this is a lot. I seriously need to get it together. 

I don't believe in dramatizing ordinary things…but I also know women are weird and beautiful and complex.

Of course, I'll miss watching my three little women compete in sparkly leotards and glittery, way over gelled hair.

I'll miss the way the bar squeaks.

I'll miss the coach/gymnast bond.

I may even miss the sour dirty sock smell the gym has. -well probably not that.

I'll always appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that helped shape my girls' character.


While a part of me feels a little like a prisoner getting out for the first time in years, I'm mostly very 

much at peace and excited at what we are gaining.

What on earth will we DO with the combined 22 hours every. single. week. that we used to have someone at gym?

how on earth are we going to function with sports and activities that are *gasp* …seasonal!!?!


Here's the plan:

We are going 

to breathe

to slow down a little

to have more suppers together at the table at the same time

to have a little more time to focus on fundamentals before these kids start getting driver's licenses and part time jobs

to have 6 or 8 free weekends in a year that were previously committed to meets 

to carve out a little more time for getting outside ourselves…to look beyond our own backyard.

did I mention we are going to just breathe? (there's no law against it, you know)


So, whatever decisions you face for yourselves or for your family, trust in the supernatural guidance of an incredible God who knows when a sparrow falls to the ground.

Take a minute to ask Him to direct your steps

don't loose sight of your long term goals

don't get caught up in the rat race

don't get pulled into the river against your will…it'll carry you away in a heart beat 

The answer is not always to stop. Sometimes, it is to power through, to keep on keepin' on.

Ask the Lord to show you when it's time for what. There's freedom when you know the difference.

Good decisions aren't always perfect…but peace is so much better than perfect. 

~stacey

~TheFewTheProud~

My heart is so full tonight.

Not every long weekend is wonderful but this one was.

With that in mind, please indulge my oozing joy and satisfaction while I jot down a few details from the last few days…details I don't want to forget.

My nephew, fresh out of high school, left in November for Parris Island, South Carolina.

You know the place?

As far as I know, they only make one thing on Parris Island.

At a bright and early, well actually, it was a dark and early, 5:55 a.m. Thursday morning, we, with a bunch of other  families, were lining the street at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, posters in hand, freezing our rears off, ready to cheer on our new Marine at the much anticipated Motivational Run. (aka the moto run)

It was pitch black dark.

I saw a Drill Instructor with some poor recruit outside a barracks. 

The DI was making him run about 10 yards, touch the ground only to turn around and run the same 10 yards back. It was the shortest, most obnoxious distance.

"Go back!" the DI yelled.

"Now back!"

This went on as long as I watched. 

There were multiple groups of recruits everywhere you turned in formation marching, running, sweating, getting yelled at long before the sun was up.

All these soldiers or soldiers in training were up way before I was, 

working, learning, drilling, training, and sacrificing...

preparing themselves to, when needed, protect you and me and the country we call home.

I looked to my right, where I saw the huge 

"WE MAKE MARINES" sign high overhead that spanned the width of the road.

I looked to my left where I saw my parents, bundled up, signs in hand, anxiously waiting to catch a glimpse of their grandson, the new marine. 

You could see the pride all over my Dad's face. 

He is a former Marine himself and was trained on the very ground on which we were standing back quite a few years ago. 

That was it for me.

I started crying like a baby. 

It was a bit much to absorb…in the best sort of way.

Then we heard them.

We heard them way before we could see them.

It was an excited rumble of feet pounding the ground, of cadences and synchronized yelling.

All their blood, sweat, and bruises over the last 13 weeks had brought them to these two days of celebration and graduation. 

Finally.

Wish you could have been there to hear it and see it.

It was awesome…sights and sounds not easily forgotten.

Hangin' On Every Word

Touring the barracks.

Looking at his squared away rack and foot locker.

Get on the footprints, and bang on the wall handprint if you have anything to say or ask the Drill Instructor. 

This routine hasn't changed in 40+ years.

 The infamous yellow footprints at receiving.

The first time you put your recruit feet on the island,

it's on these. I think one time on those was enough for

Jonathan. He had no intentions of stepping on them again!

To quote him, "I don't think I should stand on those again,

but I'll stand between them for a picture." 

Graduation Day~February 12, 2016

The shorter, shaggy haired one thinks the taller, shaved one pretty much hung the moon.

Brad, true to form, had just said, as he squatted down close to Jonathan's really shiny shoe,

"Hold up, Jonathan, I think I have something in my teeth….let me use your shoe to look"

All in all, the best couple days I've had in a while. 

My heart could have exploded several times.

My kids, right down to my 6 year old, didn't complain about

the late nights, early mornings, standing in line, waiting, 

watching, cheering, freezing, or endless walking. 

I was an extra proud Mama. 

Kids being selfless is a sweet sight to behold.

Oh and I realize this post is a slight picture overload.

If you feel like you've seen enough Marines for the day, 

don't worry. 

You're not likely to see one again right away.

There aren't many of them.

They are the few, the proud. 

~stacey

~2015,ACountryChristmas~

When you consider

The ENORMOUS amount of rain we received,

Which kept us in doors way more than a person ought to be,

Which in turn gave us a terrible bout of Cabin Fever

And rendered us stir crazy and a little out of our minds,

It makes perfect sense that I have dubbed this Christmas

"2015, A Redneck Christmas"

In the interest of discretion, I suppose I could say

"2015, A Country Christmas"

PoTAEto PoTOTo…..whatever.

We spent the week tucked away in our mountain spot with family.

Inside, during the almost constant downpours,

We (and by we, I mean Brad, Cameron, and kids) jumped rope to the point of delirium.

Grandpa organized his second installment of his clever "DiveThroughThe HoopAndHopefullyRollOutOnTheSofaCushionsThatAreOnTheFloor" game.

He also sent us all on a MadHuntGame to find the piece of paper with your name on it…victors received $5.

We had handstand contests and played "CatchTheOrangeSliceInYourMouth"

Grandpa is the orange slice tosser, as he has been for 30+ years.

We cooked a LOT and ate even more.

We cut up with crazy sisters.

Some of us wore glittery, laced, sparkly princess outfits paired with cat socks EVERY DAY.

During any letup from the rain,

We sent volunteering brother in law down an overflowing, too narrow creek in a too long kayak.

We shot lots of guns.

We hung out in Enos.

We surveyed flooded roads.

All in all, inside or out, it was an easy Christmas full of laughter.

The kind I do NOT take for granted.

We are back home

Brad is on call all week :-/

It's raining….again….but I don't mind a bit right now

Kids are upstairs content with sticker books, Beanie Boos, and other randomness.

Channel 801 is playing "Holidays and Happenings"

Chicken and Rice is about to come out of the oven

Gabbie is on the sofa beside me, sleeping.

Definitely shaping up to be one of my favorite December nights, when measured on the Cozy Scale.

~stacey