Family Tradition

This is my favorite time of year. I absolutely love Christmas. I love the lights, the decorations, and the celebrations. I love giving gifts and seeing people's faces (especially my kids!!) when they open the gift that they were hoping for. I love to see their excitement! I love to celebrate that Jesus came to this earth to live and die here to save us from our sins! For so many reasons (except for the temperature! I hate being cold!) I absolutely love this time of year!

But, anyone who knows me knows that there's another reason that I love this time of year. My mom and her sisters started a tradition in our family when I was a little girl that I'm sure they never saw it going as far as it has. They would all meet at my mom's house and go shopping. Not a big deal, everybody does that, right? Well, every year it grew. They decided they were going to start wearing Christmas shirts. then they decided (as my mom is known as "sparkle sister") that they needed to glitter up the shirts. I'm not sure of all the different things that happened at the beginning, because I was not allowed to go. There were no men and no kids allowed. Since everyone met at my house, I would have to get up and get ready to go to school while they were getting ready to go shopping... KILLER!! I remember I used to beg my mom, asking if at least she could call me off school and my cousin could just come hang out with me at our house. Nope, no kids allowed! At least, not back then...

In due time, my cousin and I grew up. We were the first "non-sisters" allowed to come. I was 18 my first year. By that time, what was now known as the "Sister Shopping Trip", has become a huge deal. Everyone wears sweat pants (because we do A LOT of eating, and I mean A LOT!!), our shirts all match (with the same theme, it's a new theme every year) and we all wear a fanny pack. Now, let me make this very clear. I never liked the fanny pack!! Always kinda thought they were for "old people" and I was only 18 years old!! But I wore that thing proudly once a year. Never even considered it any other time of year, it was still goofy, but it was a part of this tradition that I fought so hard to join. We decorate the room at my mom's house called "the shopping trip room" to go along with whatever the theme for the year is. We bring gifts and we make up games to play, with prizes, of course. We all make certain foods to keep at my mom's house while we're there. Especially my mom's chex mix and my Aunt Barbie's butter cookies!! A must-have every year!

The day we meet, we all stay at mom's and eat and laugh, then we eat and laugh some more, and then... you guessed it, we eat and laugh some more. Then, we finally pass out and go to sleep and prepare our bodies for the next day. Then, let the shopping begin! We get up early and hit the town! Shop all day until the stores close, and then we visit the stores that are open 24 hours. When we just can't take any more, we go back to my mom's house and go to the Shopping Trip Room and play more games and eat more snacks. Finally, we go to bed and get ready to do it all over again the next day. By the final day, we are beyond exhausted. As much as we hate to, it's time for the fun to end and we pack up and head home. Let the countdown begin for next year!

Through the years, many "newbies" (or as we affectionately refer to them as "babies") have joined us. It started with sisters, grew to nieces, and now includes great-nieces. I was very proud to have my daughter join us last year for her first year, even though she is not yet 18. The new age, I guess, is 13. Normally, I would complain, seeing how such a big deal was made that I had to be 18 to attend, but I love having the babies with us. Oh, and everyone's first two years of the shopping trip they are "in training" which means they have to carry everyone's bags and get picked on a little bit too, hee hee. We tell them in training means that they have to buy everyone's lunch, but we don't really make them do that. But they do have to have "shopper in training" written on their shirts. It was a very proud moment for me last year, when we found my very first Shopping Trip shirt and my daughter wore it. We scraped my name off and added hers to it, and it already had her "in training status written on it so she was good to go!

Obviously, the Shopping Trip is about so much more than shopping. We were once a very close family, but now we all live spread apart. We don't get to see each other very often. I miss my family and love them very much. I hold this tradition very dear. Some people say it's great and some people just don't get it and say we're nuts. But I feel very lucky to be able to take part in such a great tradition. I wish everyone could have such an awesome thing to look forward to!

The Sisters, Founders of this great tradition!

This is the whole gang that went in 2008. 

Help Needed

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23.

This is a verse that we all know. We all use it to help someone out when they are struggling with a problem within themselves. But, we never seem to remember it for ourselves. This means I have fallen short. I sin. I blow it. I need help! These are very hard words for some, myself included. We think that if we ask for help, we are admitting weakness. Well, in a way, that's right, but not in the way that we tend to think. It is humanly impossible to not be weak. We all have fallen short of the glory of God. We all sin. We all need help. The help that we need is in Jesus Christ alone.

This is why I've decided to go to school for Biblical Counseling. I have struggled my whole entire life. I always told myself that I had to be strong. I didn't have time to cry. Couldn't allow myself to be weak. Then one day, I couldn't take it any longer. The person who never cried, was crying all the time. I couldn't handle life because I had pushed so many things down that there was no more room to push anything down. But this life is hard. Things kept coming and I had no where left to push them. Finally, I had to admit defeat. It was the most freeing thing ever! Someone was there for me to help me see that I needed God's help and nothing else was going to last. The only true healing has to come from Him. I still struggle. As I said, this life is hard. But He has healed the past hurts and when they return, I need to give them right back to Him and remind myself that He has already dealt with them and move on. Now I must move forward with this truth.

For we  know that God works all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28

 I love that I am able to take my hurts and use them for someone else's benefit! All by the grace of God, this verse truly comes to life. It almost makes it worth it to have gone through such pain if it can help someone else out of their pain.  I want to help show people that He is there and wants to heal our pain. To take away our sadness. So many people ask "Why God" but the answer is so that we will come to Him. I want to help people go to Him. To show them that while the hurt is always going to be there, we can deal with it and move on. We don't have to stuff it down and try to forget it. While we can forget things for a while, they always come back up and it just makes things worse.

When I told someone that I was going back to college, they asked what I was going for. When I answered Biblical Counseling, she said "oh, is there a lot of job openings for that?" Funny thing is, I hadn't even thought of that. I know worldly scholars will tell you that you should choose a field that has a bunch of job openings, but it just never crossed my mind. I know that this is what God has called me to do. I know that He has blessed this journey. I know that He will take care of it from here. That's all I need to know. He is in control.

Time to Pray

Along with half of America, (according to the vote count), woke up disappointed this morning. But, as I told my kids, it is what it is. We have had a chance. We voted, and the one we chose didn't win. Actually, for me, it's more that the one we didn't want, won. But the election is over and it is now time to move on. 

As far as the president goes, he has been elected into that office. Also, for whatever reason, God has allowed it. So we must pray. I have to say, I haven't done a lot of praying for President Obama in the last 4 years. I've done some, but mostly I've complained. That is wrong on my part. We're not just supposed to pray for the ones we like, but how much more should we pray for the ones that we don't agree with? So I will pray for him, and his family. 

As for my country, these great United States of America. Well, we are no longer "united". We are very much divided and it has been rightly said "United we stand, divided we fall." If we continue in this division, we will fall. It's happening already. But complaining will do us no good. It only makes things worse and we cannot afford for things to get any worse. So I will pray for my country. I ask my brothers and sisters in Christ to join me in praying for our great nation. We, as a country, have strayed away from God because we, as Christians, have strayed away from God. How can we ask our country to turn back from God if we will not?  The Christian life is not about going to church to "feel good", then living every other second of our lives however we want. We have made our own gods, whether it be sports, tv, movies, other people, shopping, or just plain making ourselves gods. We worship so many things other than God. We put so much before Him. It's our fault. We must turn back to Him. Humble ourselves, admit that we've done wrong and live for Him once more. Look it up. God gave us His word and its all right there. Only when we turn our hearts fully back to God, will our country see what they've been missing and want a relationship with Him as well. 

Now for the comfort. We know where it comes from. In the midst of any trial or heartache. Whatever our issue is or how big it may be, there's always one comfort. That is our Heavenly Father. He is ultimately in control no matter what happens here on earth. We can have peace and joy through it all. Because no matter who lives in the White House in Washington, DC, our awesome God sits on The Throne in Heaven! He trumps all else. Nothing has power over Him, nothing! Praise Him for all He has done and all He will do. Praise Him because HE IS! He was, He is, and He always will be. What more can we ask for? 

The verses that gave me such peace this morning... 

Isaiah 44:6-8 

This is what the Lord says—

    Israel’s King and Redeemer, the Lord Almighty:
I am the first and I am the last;
    apart from me there is no God.
⁷ Who then is like me? Let him proclaim it.
    Let him declare and lay out before me
what has happened since I established my ancient people,
    and what is yet to come—
    yes, let them foretell what will come.
⁸ Do not tremble, do not be afraid.
    Did I not proclaim this and foretell it long ago?
You are my witnesses. Is there any God besides me?
    No, there is no other Rock; I know not one.”

Not Quite the Same

November 12, 1969 A very special day for my family. A little boy was born to my parents. Robert Chester Bussa (though he'd kill me for ever saying his middle name!!).  I don't remember it, because I was 5 years away from being born, but what a precious day! Obviously, I don't know much about his early years but I know he was pretty happy. Who wouldn't be! Growing up in the beautiful rolling hills of western Scioto County, literally just down the road from the beautiful Ohio River! Then, of course, at the age of 5 becoming a big brother to such am adorable baby sister :) Ok, maybe I'm laying it on a little thick. But I guess I'll never be able to explain how, even though we didn't really have a lot, we felt like we had it all.
As it always does, living in a fallen world, things got tough eventually. But through it all, we had each other. I picked on him relentlessly! Man, I was tough on him! I can't even see a pop bottle opener without feeling a little twinge of guilt. Remembering the time I was picking on him, as usual, until he got mad and chased me, I went flying from our living room, thru the dining room, and into the kitchen. Somehow, he didn't quite clear the turn and his head went right into the bottle opener hanging on the wall. Gashed his head right open. Oh did he scream at me!  Or the million times I would give him a quick little slap on the arm, over and over until he finally got so mad he'd just haul off and get me good, then I'd cry to Momaw "Robb hit me!!" Of course, he'd get in trouble, and she never did ask him WHY he hit me lol. He never did tell, either, as far as I knew anyway. No one else would've gotten away with that, but I always did. Never really thought about how much he adored me. But I adored him just the same.
As we got older, my dad remarried and we moved to a different town. Robb loved living there. I hated it. Things weren't good  at all. But I knew he always had my back. My parents swore that they would never split us up, but I really wanted to go live my mom. He loved the town we lived in. With a passion! He had tons of friends, and played on the football team. It wasn't too awful far from our family and friends in our other town (what I still consider my home!! Friendship, Ohio!!). Mom lived 3 hours away. But Robb knew things were bad for me. He knew I couldn't take much more. He gave up what he wanted and moved so that I could be happy.
I could tell you our whole life story, but this really isn't about that. More about how awesome he was. Sure, he had his faults. What human doesn't? I didn't see it enough back then, but he sure did love me. He sure gave up a lot for me. And he sure was a great brother! Man, do I hate to type "was" Oh what I wouldn't do for 5 more minutes with him!
He didn't handle his health very well. Well, let's be honest, that's an understatement. I can still see him setting there on that bed taking all his pain meds and drinking Rum to wash it down. Being so sad about some things  that had happened in his past. I'd get so mad. "Just let it go!" I'd always  say. In my worst of times, he was always there for me, but now that he was in his worst of times, I was wrapped up in myself and not understanding why he couldn't move on.
Robb made a lot of bad choices in his final days. That just made me madder and madder. I knew that he was slowly killing himself (though not on purpose). I knew that if he didn't change the things he was doing, that he was going to die. I tried to tell him that and he wouldn't listen. I'd just get more mad. Not sure I will ever forgive myself for that.
The last time he left the hospital, somehow I knew. But I wouldn't allow myself to do anything but be mad. He refused treatment. He was taken there by ambulance, but by the time he got to the ER, he was awake and told them that he didn't need any help. He would be ok on his own. I yelled at him. Then I stopped talking to him. For about a week.
He called me one Thursday morning. Wanted to know if I could get ahold of the doctor for him. "Ok." I said. "I love you, Stef" he said. Told him I loved him too. Something in me goes back to that conversation. Like he knew. Honestly, I think he was afraid he was going to die. That was the last time I talked to him. My step dad came home later on that day and found him on his bed. He was gone. Forever. Gone.
I know that we are supposed to praise God for each and every day that we are given, and I do, but I hate that day. August 19, 2004. The day that the best brother ever died. Oh if I could go back to August 18, 2004, and every day before!
There has been many days since then. Over eight years worth of days. But none of them, nor any other from this point on, will ever be quite the same, as when he was here. I wasn't the best sister, but man he sure was the best brother!
Next week is his birthday. He'd be 43 if he was still here. We'd be celebrating with a Little Debbie cake and a pizza. I'm sure a Coke, too. I guess I'll have one for him. So here's to you big brother. I miss you. I love you. You may be gone, but will forever be in my heart!!