I hate cleaning…

I do… I hate to clean.  This is nothing new; just ask my daddy.

I have no memory of cleaning up as a child, but somewhere along the time middle school rolled around I remember the fights starting.  You couldn’t tell which clothes in my room were clean and which were dirty (which became good practice for use of the smell test my freshman year of college…TMI?).
Dad would fuss at me all the time about my room.

I’m not exaggerating, either.  There was usually paths through the clutter in my room – one from the door to the bed, one from the bed to the closet/dresser, and one from the closet to the door.  Sometimes my best friend would come over and talk to me while I cleaned up (usually this occurred after knock-down fight with my dad that ended with me in tears calling her to complain and her volunteering to walk over and talk to me while I cleaned).

I think I clean better with someone to talk to.  Even after Jeff and I got married I had a girl friend who would come over and HELP me clean when I really needed to do it right.  She was an expert cleaner (one of the many things I miss about her now that she is no long in my life).

Today, my house needed cleaning.  I still have a lot to do, but at least my living room is clean (by my own standards… we’re not talking clean enough for my grandmother).  Today’s cleaning was more than just picking up Ella’s junk and running the vacuum.  It involved me moving furniture and laying on the ground to be sure I got everything from under the heavier furniture.  Ella even asked me who was coming to stay… (that reminds me of a story from childhood about mom setting the table and Warren asking who was coming to dinner, ha!)

As I said, I still have a ways to go.  Ella’s room needs a thorough cleaning – something impossible to do while she is home.  I did get rid of a lot of stuff while she was in NC (shh….), but I didn’t have time to clean-clean her room.  Jeff and my bedroom really needs cleaning – it is always the last place I get to because we are the only people who go in there.

And now I’m pooped and letting Ella watch a Barney while I sit down.  I thought I was tired last night, too.
I was so tired yesterday that I put Ella in her bed (after a major meltdown) and let her yell it out until she fell asleep.  Then, since she’d had a nap she couldn’t get to sleep last night so at 9:15 I went and laid down in her bed beside her.  I woke up at midnight.  Hmph…
Then I let myself sleep until she got up at 8:00 this morning.

And now, I’m wondering if I’ll make it through dinner without falling asleep at the table.

Cleaning the house is the worst part of being a stay-at-home-mom.  I know, I know – those of you that work also have a house to clean, but you will (hopefully) let your husband help you.  The way my mind works, I stay home so cleaning the house is exclusively my job.  When he does help I get my feelings hurt that I don’t do a good enough job so he feels the need to fix what I’ve done wrong.
PLEASE READ THAT CORRECTLY – this is MY attitude… not Jeff’s.

Someone posted on facebook today that if they won the over $600 million lottery, they would hire a maid. I’m right there with them.  Having my house cleaned every week (twice a week?  we do have three cats, a dog, and a 3-year-old) would be my first splurge as a millionaire.

I hate cleaning… so, so much.

Now I’m off to vacuum Ella’s room and maybe mine & Jeff’s if I don’t let myself lay down on the bed instead.

Neglecting the second child already…

Ella was a complete surprise. 

In March 2008, I had “puffed” up a little and Jeff had started jokingly talking to my belly.  BUT I was on birth control, so I wasn’t worried about his insinuations.  On Monday, March 17, 2008 we went to California Pizza Kitchen with friends for a not-crowded St. Patty’s Day dinner.  I had a couple margaritas (the only drink they serve that is green)… no worries.

On Wednesday, March 19, I knew something was up.  There are things that happen in a normal cycle that weren’t happening… I was WAY off so I knew something was shady.  That night we had a mission dinner at our church and I was the person designated to talk about the mission we were supporting.  Everyone was shocked to “see” that I was so nervous… I wasn’t socializing, I was visibly sweating, my voice was shaky…
HA!  They had no clue that I would be making a run to CVS following the dinner.

At CVS I picked up a two-test box of the digital tests (I ain’t into reading the lines) and a 6-pack of beer for Jeff… I figured that if the answer was what I thought it would be, he’d need at least one of those.

I watched t.v. for a bit and then took a commercial break to pee on the stick.  It said “pregnant”.  I slowly went to where Jeff was lifting weights and waited for him to notice that I was there.  When I told him, he had NO REACTION AT ALL…  He just went back to lifting.
I took the phone to the computer and called my mama… here is how that conversation went:
Sandy: “Hello”
Evelyn: “Hi” the sobs start here
Sandy: “Evelyn?  What’s wrong?”
Evelyn: between sobs “I don’t think anything is wrong”
Sandy: “Then why are you crying?”
Evelyn: “Because I peed on a stick…”
Sandy: bursting out laughing “And it said?”
Evelyn: said in heaving sobs “That I’m pregnant”
Sandy: hysterical laughter

Yep – there you go folks, the most compassionate mother ever…

The next day I called a friend’s ob/gyn (I didn’t have one) and requested an appointment.  When the nurse told me that their next “new mom” orientation day was in three-four weeks I yelled at her, “BUT I’M PREGNANT NOW!!!”
They scheduled me to see a nurse practitioner the next day.
On March 21, 2008 it was confirmed that I was indeed pregnant…

From the doctors office I immediately went to Barnes & Noble and bought a pregnancy journal.  I wrote in it faithfully – every question I had, every insane thought in my head.  I saw the same nurse practitioner quite often and she informed me that I was the most hilarious mom-to-be she had ever worked with.  Not because I’m really all that funny, but because I KNOW when I’m being ridiculous and I often started my questions with, “I know I’m not supposed to believe everything I read online, but…”

I posted ultrasound photos and belly pictures on my blog and updated everyone I knew every time I spoke to them…  We still have her first ultrasound photo in a frame (thanks, Kris).  I was the ultimate mama – just look at my facebook photos.  I am up to EIGHT albums dedicated just to Ella!!!  I took so many pictures of her in our 10 days in California last year that she started saying, “No pictures, mama” and still shies away from the camera.

Now – THIS BABY?  The speck, as we’re calling “it”…
Well, I have some ultrasound photos.  They are tucked into my agenda and have yet to be scanned…
I went to price pregnancy journals last week.  The same one I used for Ella is actually the cheapest, but I deemed the $13 to be “too much” figuring that I’ll just find Ella’s and write in a different color ink.
Um… I’m almost 17 weeks and have yet to do that.

Back to that wonderfully compassionate mama…
When I was in high school we ran across a bunch of 110 film.  For those of you too young to know what that is:

Hannafords (a grocery store that used to exist in Richmond) was running a special on developing film – $3 a roll!  We took a huge bag in.  You’d be surprised to find out that there were BABY PICTURES OF WARREN in the developed pictures.  Poor second kid…

I’m having a feeling that I become like my wonderful mama every day.

Despite her laughing at my tears and never developing baby pictures of Warren, we knew we were the two most loved kids in the world.  We still know that.

Man, I hope I’m like my mama…

As for the speck… here’s the most recent ultrasound photo taken in the emergency room while they were supposed to be checking my kidneys (they did, but then they took pictures of the baby for me…)

January 31, 2012
I really do need to dig out my pregnancy journal from Ella and check somethings… for example, I *think* I felt the baby move yesterday and they were surprised at my 16 week check up that I hadn’t… but I can’t remember how far along I was when I felt Ella’s flutters.  Yesterday wasn’t flutters, it was like a tiny elbow or foot (so it very well might have been gas…).
Mark your calendars, people, April 2 we find out if Speck is a Joe or an ***** 
(not telling our girl name yet!).  
I am super excited about that!!!! 

All About Me…

So, my dear sister, Kristen, has been nagging lovingly encouraging me to start blogging again.
This got me thinking about why I don’t blog consistently.  Interestingly enough, the time of my life where I posted to a blog most often was while pregnant with Ella…(old blog here).

My usual excuse for not blogging is that I don’t find myself that interesting.  However, I find my kid interesting and I don’t blog about her either.
Really, if you read the last real blog entry on the old blog, you’ll see that I say to find me on facebook and that I update my status every couple of days.  Wow – how 3 years changes things.  Facebook became my outlet for keeping in tough with friends, sharing what I found cool, and sharing information about myself.

Ironically, I also spend some time each day reading at least one of 16 blogs that I have bookmarked.  My most visited blog is Kelle Hampton’s Enjoying The Small Things with visits to Kristen’s blog, Lifestone when she updates it (far more often than I do).  There are 14 more, but those are the two I visit most.

Today, I went to Holly Furtick’s blog, The Preacher’s Wife which I visit about once a month and catch up on.  On March 1 she made a list of things about herself.  There were ten items ranging from a change in taste after pregnancy to the fact that she only washes her hair twice a week.

It made me think… what do people who follow my blog know about me?  So I decided to make a list too…

1. I’m 15 1/2 weeks pregnant with baby #2 (we find out boy/girl on April 2 so stay tuned!)
2. In my first pregnancy I couldn’t see or smell chicken – raw or cooked in any way.  Not so this time, though seafood (which I love) is very hit or miss.
3. In my first pregnancy I craved Chipotle and could eat it daily.  This time, I crave sushi and often pick up a California Roll from Martin’s to curb the craving.  (Honey, I could really use another Ichiban date night.)
 4. In my first pregnancy I took belly photos every week starting at week 10.

Here I am this past Saturday at week 15:
I did take a photo at 11 weeks, but it wasn’t very flattering so I didn’t publish it.

5. I eat Chef Boyardee at least once a week…  This is awful considering how many of my friends are really health conscious and would never let something that processed into their house.
6. I wash my hair about 3 times a week.  If I wash it more, it dries out.  I keep thinking of going with the No Poo movement and eliminating shampoo all together and using vinegar and (what goes with the vinegar, Kris?) instead.
7. I have Medullary Sponge Kidney and it is no fun while pregnant.  While most of my stones are teeny-tiny and pass at home with drugs, they’ve discovered a super stone with this pregnancy that may end up leading to some type of kidney surgery by the time everything is said and done.  If I can make it to 30 weeks without it moving into my ureter, they’ll be more comfortable going in since they could accidentally trigger labor.
I am am not a fan of drinking water, yet I’m supposed to drink 80-100 oz of water every DAY so if you see me and I’m not drinking water, feel free to hand me a bottle and tell me to chug.
8. I am not nearly as creative as I want to be.  I love finding cool craft ideas and buying craft supplies, but every time Ella gets glue (Elmers – it washes!) on the table I find myself freaking out… not AT her, but she can always tell that the mess of glitter and glue stresses me out.  I also have a tendency to “help” her with her art projects… you know, even something up here… space things out over there… not at all the way you are supposed to do art with a pre-schooler.
9.  I am 100% sure that I am married to the world’s best father.  The man painted our 3-year-old daughter’s bed pink.  Why?  Because she told him that princess beds are pink and that she needed a pink bed.  I spend days trying to sway her to white with pink bedding… he took her shopping at Home Depot to pick out her paint.  That man rocks.
10. I really, really want to be a better blogger.  I just need to find stuff that makes me passionate enough to write about it.  I have too many projects and ideas floating around in my head that I often just feel too overwhelmed to actually put any of it into words.

Anyway… it is a start, right?  Not brilliant by any stretch, but maybe I can get back on track.  Maybe if Ella would keep sleeping past 8:00, I could use that 7:30-8:00 stretch in the morning when Jeff has left for work and I’m able to sit for more than 30 seconds at a time.  See – I may update my facebook frequently, but rarely am I sitting at the computer for any length of time.  You try it with a 3-year-old and see how “alone” you’re left.

Oh, and I’m loving that warmer weather is here.  It can stay for as long as it likes.
I keep saying that I could live somewhere that never dips below 70 degrees and be perfectly happy.
I really mean that too…


My status on Facebook today:
November 30, 2011 – Today I am thankful that I have such an incredibly “comfortable” life. Leaving the gas station today, there was a woman (pretty young) with her very beautiful dog sitting at the corner with a cardboard scrap that said, “Trying to get home for Christmas”. I gave her $20. I know, I’m not supposed to give cash out of my window, but it was what I had and I had it to spare. We’ve also been able to donate a toy to Toys For Tots (Ella picked one she has and loves), money to the red kettle for the Salvation Army, and the donation for a meal at the Martin’s checkout. If my life weren’t so comfortable, these little things wouldn’t be possible. Thank you God for more blessings than 30 days worth of posts.
We are blessed beyond measure, aren’t we? 
I went back and read my post about being content.  I’m almost there and have an addendum to post next week… but today, I am fully focused on all that I have.  
Today was Ella’s 3-year-old check up.  While I may not have those five kids that I had once planned to have… I have one incredibly healthy little girl.

She amazes me (and frustrates me) with something new every day.  If I never have another child, I’ll consider myself beyond blessed to have this one.
I have a car that is nearly paid off…
I have a house that is “ours” and is as much room as we really need…
I have a family who loves me and supports me in anything and everything I do…
I have everything I need and most everything I could ever want.
Aren’t you blessed too?

If I’d Only Known…

My beautiful sister-in-law Kristen suggested that I blog about Ella being two so that she’d know what to expect with J.J. (he turns 2 at the end of this month).  I’ve spent several days mulling this over…

Let me start with this… I worked in a Private Preschool for a couple of years about 10 years ago.  For about a year, I was the lead teacher in a classroom with kids ages 12 months – 24 months.  I loved that room.  I loved those kids.  Then, after we had two teachers leave for lunch one day and not return (shouldn’t the fact that they were carrying boxes out been a clue?), I got popped up into the 3-year-old classroom.  I worked in the 3’s class for about four months until an Assistant Director position came open at another location under the same company.  I interviewed and with amazing references from one of two bosses in my lifetime that I have adored, I got the job – meaning I left my boss I loved and went to work for the worst boss I have ever had.  Seriously.
In my six months as an Assistant Director I was consistently left “out of ratio” – however I always worked it out to be watching the school age kids in the front room while toting a baby from the nursery (keeping all the other rooms “in ratio”).  It was incredibly stressful.

That said… do you notice which age group I NEVER EVER worked with?

Yep – the two-year-olds…

I was completely unprepared to be the mother of a two-year-old.  C.o.m.p.l.e.t.e.l.y. U.n.p.r.e.p.a.r.e.d.
I’m just now finding my bearings for this year and we’re less than two months away from her 3rd birthday.

What do I wish I’d known… I’d heard that three is worse than two and from that time in the 3s class, I can tell you that (in my opinion) – it is true.  She has not nearly been as bad as several kids who still haunt me…

Things we’ve accomplished at two: 
That catching snowflakes is one of the best parts of winter

That it is fun to save money

That heartbreak comes at any age… (giving up Nuks will always be her first)

Learning how to walk the dog (though that job doesn’t last all they way through the neighborhood yet)
*can’t find the picture!

How to garden with her daddy…
How to walk on a balance beam
That road trips to visit family is worth the car ride
How to properly hold a guitar 
(can’t wait for her to be big enough to hold one that will play & take lessons)
 That vacations with family are the best!
To climb stairs without giving her mom a heart attack
That carousels are fun and not torture

How to “fall” into a pool, turn around and find the side without drowning 
(still with supervision, though)

A bit about the family tree – Mommy is mommy, Mac is mommy’s mommy, GG is Mac’s mommy
(and that EE counts as an extra grandmother)

That costumed creatures are still REALLY freaky- Cmor, Barney, Cat in the Hat, George…
all good from a distance and with Amy & Jackson in the middle

Being able to do crafts… with glue… and only make a minimal mess

Walking through the Zoo or Maymont without a stroller and without having to be carried 
(just did this).

That babies live in tummies first…
(though actually being pregnant is not required – Ella often has a baby in hers)
And that holding babies requires one to be very, very careful…

That we live in a neighborhood (and that we are in OUR neighborhood when we get here)

Learning how to take our diaper off in bed-with or without poop in it 
(she did this again last night – no poop)

Do you know what my Pre-school program did with the two year olds?
They potty trained them.
By the time those kids got to the 3’s room, they were already using the potty.

Things we have NOT accomplished at two:

I’m pretty sure that this will get accomplished at 3.

Kristen, I really wish I had known how cool it would be to watch my own child (not someone I’m paid to watch) learn new things.  There are days when I hand her to Jeff as he walks in the door and take time for me.  There are days when if someone touches me or pulls on me one more time, I’m going to scream.  
I wish I had known just how whiny a two-year-old can be.  
And that “whiny” is a tone… not just an action.

That said, every day that she says something incredibly smart or does something she has never done before (like putting her pants back on after she takes her diaper off in bed… pretty impressive) I am glad that she’s two and able to tell me what she wants and verbalize her thoughts.

I’m sure there is more to share… but it about time for her to get up from her (no longer every day) nap.  Two has been difficult, but I’m afraid of three.
Ask me again in a year and I’ll let you know…

Contemplation, Contentment, and Closure

Today is April 21, 2011. 
Tomorrow, April 22, 2011 would have been my friend Amanda’s 36th birthday.

Tuesday night, April 19, I spent three hours at Adrian’s house going through and sorting Amanda’s jewelry while Adrian attempted to catalog Amanda’s Alice In Wonderland collection.

Adrian messaged me on April 14 to ask me if I would be willing to assist him in this task.  I agreed without hesitation, hit send, and burst into tears.  March 25, 2011 was the two-year anniversary of Amanda’s death.  It is a day that I dread as it approaches as it fills me with regret that I hadn’t booked plane tickets to Houston the moment she asked me to come earlier that week.
I was with Amanda’s mother on March 25 this year.  I tried to avoid admitting the significance of the day, but we were among friends (ladies from our church) and when Leigh broke down, I had to leave the room.  So much for the supportive friend, right?

You see, I get to live in a world where I don’t live with losing Amanda in an every-day-tangible way.  I have moments where I completely lose it… moments where I desperately need her advice or to share some “mom” type of thing.  We had great plans for being moms together – if I would only get pregnant.
I think I’ve posted this previously, but the day I had my first ultrasound Amanda was in the hospital.  I took the little picture home, scanned it in, printed it as an 8×10, and headed to the hospital to tell her.  I knew it would lift her spirits.  Within 30 minutes of me letting her open the envelope to reveal the picture of Ella, the doctor came in to tell Amanda she had cancer.  Adrian wasn’t even there… I was wrecked.  I left the hospital at breakneck speed to get to their house and send Adrian to the hospital while I stayed with Alastair.
We still had hope for being moms together.  We still had plans.  She was going to beat that cancer and we were going to raise Alastair and Ella to be buddies.

The despair that I don’t have to feel every day flooded over me when I read Adrian’s message.
I cried big heaving sobs that shock me (because I don’t cry that way often).
I contacted a friend not remotely connected to the situation and asked her to pray for me.

As I pulled up to Adrian’s house Tuesday night I texted Amanda & my old youth minister, Scot, and asked him to pray right then if he could including my prayer request in less than 160 characters.  I got a text back within minutes telling me he’d prayed.  I was sick to my stomach walking up to the door of the house where I had spent hours with my friend…  I don’t go to the house very often.  I think I am scared of what emotions will grip me when I do… but sitting in the floor and sorting more jewelry than I could count, I felt such peace.

As I laughed at Adrian (the Alice collection was a bit more than either of us had bargained for… instead of finding empty boxes for items in Manda’s curio we found tubs full of boxes with Alice items STILL IN THEM), I separated the jewelry into types (rings, bracelets, earrings, etc) and showed anything to Adrian I thought might mean something to him or Alastair.  By the end, he had pared down what he was keeping for Alastair into a small pewter jewelry box and I had more jewelry than a jewelry store… all sorted and organized.  I was able to pick pieces that were meaningful to me to add to my own (very tiny by comparison) jewelry collection.  I wore one of her big flower rings out to dinner with girlfriends last night and it was quite a conversation piece.  It made me feel great to be carrying her with me.

I had some closure.  No matter what else (or someday, whom else) God brings into my life through Adrian & Alastair it will be okay.  I may even grow to adore that person.

Anyway… this all brought me back to a conversation I had with Neal Alligood at MACU‘s Gospel Rally.
I ran into Neal before the Gala on Friday night of the Rally.  Knowing he’d recently moved back to Elizabeth City from Atlanta (gosh I love Atlanta) I wanted to know what was going on with him; what he was getting involved in; and how he was feeling being back “home”.  He expressed with a chuckle that he hadn’t really expected to be living back in Elizabeth City at the current point in his life, but that he was happy and finding many ways to serve God.  So I posed this question to him: “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, serving, where would you be?”  It’s an innocent question, right?  In fact, it is a common question… We all dream about where we want to go. Point in fact, we consistently ask young people (children – college kids), “What do you want to be when you grow up?” 

Neal’s answer BLEW MY MIND… He said, “You know, I don’t really think that way. 
If I did, I would never be content where God currently has me.”

I’ve been contemplating that ever since.  Am I content where God has me?  If you read my blog post prior to this one your answer would be “NO!” (and you’d shout it at me just like that).
So now I’m thinking… Why am I not content?  What do I think I’m missing out on?
Aha!  I think I’m missing out on something… and therein lies the rub.

I do spend a lot of my time thinking about the “what ifs”.  I always have – as far back as I can remember, I’ve always loved the What If Game.  Ever played that with your friends?  I had a friend my freshman year of college who was dating a guy who had perfected that game.  “What if I had a compulsion to lick roadkill… would you still love me?”  (No lie – that is my favorite question he ever asked her in my presence.)

What if I married so-and-so… how many kids would we really have? (We were saying 5 at the time we were dating – this was NOT Jeff)
What if la-dee-dah showed up today… would I still love la-dee-dah?
What if I had chosen option A over option B… would I be happier with the life I’d be living?
What if I had majored in English instead of Math… would I actually want to work? (Of course, I’d be paying off student loans since my scholarship was offered by a math grant and not one in English)
What if I had gotten pregnant younger… would it be easier?  would I still want 5 kids?

I watched a movie recently (The Bad Mother’s Handbook) in which the main character is playing the “What if” game.  She finds out she was adopted and ends up getting in touch with her birth mother as she is about to become a grandmother herself.  It was moving to see her receive the answer to her “What if” questions.

Have I learned a lesson somewhere along this path of contemplating contentment?  Not fully… yet.
I’m still playing the “What if” game every single day… but I’m trying to catch myself and remind myself of what Neal said.  I need to be content where God has me – even if I’m where I am because of decisions I made that may not have been what God wanted for me.  That is a thought I’ve really been praying over in the last five weeks since that conversation with Neal.  I shared what he said with my Bible Study groups the following week.  I was excited to have recognized a fault a failure in myself.  I wanted to embrace the recognition of this and pursue God in a new way.  But as mountain top experiences occur, so do the valleys between the mountains.  And the valleys get me down quicker than I can climb back up the mountain of God (see previous post).  But I’m determined to face my place in life with a new hope – a hope through which I look for what God is saying to me.  I want to be content where I am… and I want to serve God in my contentedness. 

I know this seems like a rambling post… it is certainly a long one.  But it all fits together for me.

While Amanda was at the Massey Cancer Center here in Richmond, she and I talked a lot about the straw she drew in this life.  I don’t think she realized that our conversations were going to scroll through my head for the rest of my life.  When she went to Houston for the trials that were being offered there, we started talking on the phone.  A lot.  In one of our conversations she said to me that she was at peace with death.  She did ask that I always stay involved with Alastair and that if Adrian ever met someone else that he wanted to be serious about that I better stand behind him & support him or she’d come back to haunt me.  She was content with what was coming even though I was not and cried throughout that whole conversation.  It was in that conversation that she asked if I would come to Houston and spend some time hanging out.  The “what ifs” surrounding my decision to wait to buy tickets until I could coordinate all of the minute details eat me up sometimes.

My point – I want to live a witness like Amanda’s. 
I want to live a witness like Neal’s.
I want to be content… and even more,
I want to be joyful serving God right where I am.

Please pray for me.  Pray that all the thoughts swirling around in my head since Gospel Rally will help lead me in the right direction.  Pray that I’ll be content and joyfully serving wherever God leads me.
And pray that if (and probably when) I try to take the lead from God, that He will use my imperfection to bring a perfect result (as He has always done with my stubborn self).

Thanks for reading…

Oh, my first two songs on my playlist are Jars of Clay songs, but not the ones I wanted.  Though “Love Song For A Savior” has been a crucial song in my life.  Their cd, The Shelter, is not available on Playlist yet.  If I could share the three songs impacting my worship right now they would be: (1) The Shelter (2) Small Rebellions and (3) Call My Name.
I rarely try to influence people to listen to or buy specific music, but this CD is GREAT!
The bridge of The Shelter says: If there is any peace, if there is any hope…We must all believe, our lives are not our own. We all belong.  God has given us each other And we will never walk alone
And the chorus says: In the shelter of each other, we will live, we will live.  In the shelter of each other, we will live, we will live.  Your arms are all around us.

We have to be God’s human form at this stage in the game.  If I am not content where He has me, how can He use me to be a shelter for anyone else.  How can I stage small rebellions of “senseless brutal acts of kindness” for those in need around me? *Small Rebellions also has the words, “We will never walk alone”.  Isn’t that powerful?

And Call My Name has become my theme song:
I’ll go when you call me
I’ll run when you tell me where to go
We are desert walkers under shaded clouds
Your fire shows there’s more of you to know
Let our idols fail
Vanity subside
We will see the beauty in our lives
When I hear you call my name
When I hear you call my name
Send me to the edge of the earth
Show me what a life is worth
When I hear you call my name
I will wait in the darkest hours
For you will be a light on this road
Lead me out to the ground I’ve never walked on
Only to rely on you alone
This is my Father’s world
And to my listening ear
My heart is still at home
When I hear you call my name

© 2010 Bridge Building / Pogostick Music (BMI). All rights for the world on behalf of Pogostick Music administered by Bridge Building.