Josiah

It's hard to describe the joy that it has been to raise this little man.  We were talking today on our lunch date that just like my miscarriages since having him, I was almost certain that we would lose him with complications.  My pregnancy with Samuel was so simple and uneventful that it totally shocked me when I started bleeding in my first term with Jo.  He has known the sadness of babies that would have been his brothers and sisters that are in heaven now and I think it surprised him to realize that he also could have joined the ranks of my children that haven't had to struggle in this world but have slipped from womb right into Jesus' arms.

I told him how I sank down in the corner of my living room in Lafayette, in a heap of tears, begging my mom and dad to pray that I wouldn't lose him.  You cannot believe my shock and amazement when on the following day in Dr. Wickert's office, we heard that tiny heartbeat for the first time.  Our prayers had been answered.  In 8 months that little heartbeat would be outside of my body and have arms and legs and a mind of its own and the terror that is the love of a mother would be all too real yet again!

Since that first day 13 years ago, raising Josiah has been a breeze.  I have never known a quieter more contented child than my sweet JoJo.  He would play with a wrinkle in his pants in his carseat for two hours without a fuss.  He's only really been sick once.  He loves home and his room and while he may not be up for all of the crazy adventures out in the real world, I know for certain he has taken more than his fair share in his imagination.

Even today, he wasn't interested in a party or big affair for his golden birthday.  His requests were simple....

1.  Skip School
2.  Have Cocoa Wheats for breakfast (with toast for dipping)
3.  Visit Grandparents for love...and the cards with money in them!
4.  Finish the evening with carry-in Mexican food and a movie at home.

We did them all.

Unlike Samuel, who is chomping at the bit to get out of our house and venture as far away from Danville as he possibly can...Jo is already worried about having to move out.  When asked what his goals are, he unashamedly declared that he wanted to live in the house beside mine and that he was never going to put me in a nursing home...and I haven't once asked him to care for me when I'm older!  That is all his own.

I asked him today as we were riding around what he would change about himself if he could.  He admitted that he would get rid of his struggle with anger and lust.  Lust, specifically, for more things.  I asked if he would change anything about his appearance and he corrected me that the outward man was made up of God-given characteristics that were only his and he would never change that.  (Humbly, I must admit...in all of my years of wishing for a beautiful face or a perpetually thin body-Jo's philosophy never has truly occurred to me!)  He then went on to tell me that his cute face was his "bread and butter" and he would never touch it for difference!

After driving him around from one pawn shop to another, looking for a much desired xbox 360 that neither he nor I can afford, he stopped me and told me how thankful he was that I was taking him.  He knows that I don't much care for gaming stores.

So, we did breakfast and Meijers for a new hoodie, both grandparents got a visit, lunch at Benjamin's and then pawn shops and ended our day grabbing Sam up at the school.  I love my Sambo but I was sad to see Jo climb into the back seat of my mustang to make room for his older brother with much longer legs.  When I looked back at him in my rear view mirror, I thought...that just sums up Jo in our little family.  Just a quiet guy, that's willing to sit in the back seat.  He doesn't have much to say and doesn't need much to entertain him.  He's got his own bucket of wisdom but you may never know it unless you sit down at lunch, just the two of you, and pry it out.  He's loving and sweet and very compassionate.  He is very much his father which is why I think I enjoy his company so much.

My sweet JoJo...on your 13th birthday, this is what I hope for you:

That you always love home as much as you do now but that you become willing to go anywhere that Jesus sends you even if that is very far away from us.

 I hope you never feel the pressure to be like Sam.  You are your own person, with your own gifts and God is dreaming way bigger dreams for you than you can imagine.

 I hope you always draw and find that to be comfort to you.

 I hope you find the victory that you so long for to overcome the sins that beset and burden you.

 I hope that you always continue to make the bed even when you have a wife and family because you are so good and stinkin' faithful at doing it everyday to the rest of our shame!

 I'm fairly certain that you will always keep your legos and struggle with sharing them-even with your own kids, but I never want you to lose your young heart.

Most of all, though, I want you to be God dependant.  Trusting only in Him for everything you need or desire...loving Him more than you love me or your dad.  It is with Him alone that you will always feel truly at home.

We love you, Jo.  You have made our lives so wonderful.

Matt giving Josiah a "blessing" as he enters manhood.

The new hoodie

Jo and Grammy

The good stuff

Giant Strawberry Muffins from Grammy

Jo and Paw-Paw

Grumpy Jo waiting for his cheeseburger

Yeah!

Gifts from Mom and Dad

Where did my baby go?

Guess who turns 13 tomorrow?

Another Day Begins...

I've found that if you are going to blog about a day's upcoming events...you should probably do so at the beginning of the day and not at 4pm when the day is in full swing.

Story of my life.

I SO want to be dedicated to the cause of my blog if for nothing else to keep my big sister from being disappointed in me, but our life is nuts.  Plain and simple.  Nuts.

Here is a day in the life....

5:00 am-Wake up and sense that something is coming and hope you are wrong.

5:30-Take emergency counseling call from a hurting woman and spend the hour attempting to encourage her and brainstorm a Biblical plan to unexpected trials.  (I was right-something was coming!)

6:30-Check Commercial News for the obituaries.  I'm telling you...I have a silent fear that one day I'll see my picture in there and not only will I be mad at the one that Matt picked because it makes me look fat, I WILL BE DEAD.

7:00-Kids up, dress for Spirit week, lunches, breakfast, dressing myself...PLEASE can someone get me a cup of coffee!?

8:00-Take kids to school and come home to put the finishing touches on my face and begin to think and pray about first counseling session.  Review last weeks notes.  Pray some more.  Try to convince God that I actually cannot do this again for another day and that I'm completely inadequate to the task.  He loudly agrees with me from the Bible but then reminds me of some good stuff....

8:45-First Session

9:30-Interrupt session to take call from Police officer to help me know what to do with 5am counseling call.

11:00-End Session and give counselee a ride home.

11:30-Answer texts and voicemails that have come through.  Check e-mails.

12:30-Eat lunch and wait for the daily call from Stephanie.

12:45-Not hearing from best friend so I decide that I'm going to take a short nap to catch up from morning and as soon as I drift off....

1:00-Stephanie call.  I love my best friend but this was another counselling session as her life is more crazy that mine right now.  Must admit...Counselling session for me, also!

2:00-Go get boys from school

2:30-Finally get that shower I needed this morning but didn't have time for.

3:30-Start to review notes for tonights session's....We have three different couples coming.

4:00-Get distracted and blog

And the rest remains to be seen....

I did not make my bed yet, do homework with Jo, call and check on my dad, call a very important counseling referral that has been waiting for two days, do any sort of school for myself, make dinner, finish laundry, type notes from last week's sessions OR take that nap.

(And don't even get me started on how I am doing logging into My Fitness Pal every day or getting those 8 glasses of water down!)

Oh shoot!  I need to clean the church also!  I totally forgot about that!

...and it all started this morning in my fluffy, leather chair with my cup of coffee and a calming candle.  I'll be honest that I have been waiting all day for this day to be done but God is continuing to surprise me with grace upon grace and some cool moments that can only be experienced by his power.

Until later-when I will hope to blog but will not because I will be snoring on the couch with Pinx!

Semper Memor

I am always remembering you, dear blog and never forgetting what a failure I am being with my commitment to write in you daily...that has now changed to writing in you "often".

One more crazy day and then I'm back in business!  Even though I haven't blogged in years...I have quickly resumed my expert ability of having an "I should blog this.." list constantly rolling around in my head!  I guess it really is just like riding a bike!

Tomorrow...

Unbreakable

Present

I love movies.  Matt would be hard pressed to find an evening in or out where I wouldn't rather pop in a movie or plop down at the theatre and get lost for a little bit in the drama.  I'm not sure how I would answer the question of what my favorite movie is but there are a few that have stuck with me for one reason or another.

One of those is the movie "Unbreakable" directed by M. Night Shyamalan and starring Bruce Willis.

It's not a life-changing plot by any measure and it presents with a very unlikely story of a man that has hidden superpowers which in fact, makes him "unbreakable".   The sequence of the events leads the audience to come to hope and eventually embrace that there is a real life possibility of a superhero (and villain) that live among us outside of your classic comic books.

The reviews were mixed back in 2000 but I walked out of the theatre with a sense that I understood myself a little better than I did before I went in.  I so deeply related to a scene in the movie and in a way, it reassured me that while I would never be a superhero, would very much "break" if presented with a strong enough opposition and am no were near as cool as Mr. Willis...

 I did have a calling.

About halfway through the movie, David Dunn begins to accept what his little boy knew all along, that he had the ability to sense evil and go forth to correct it for good.  He dons a security cape, steps into a train station and simply stretches out his hands to allow people to bump up against him and reveal their personal depravities.

As one person and then another rush past him, he becomes suddenly aware of what they have done and is bombarded with the pain and concern of the actions of each offender.  Eventually, he decides to act on behalf of the victims of one particular perpetrator and after an altercation, saves the day.

So, what does this have to do with me?

For as long as I can remember, I have had a keen sense when someone is hurting or in pain.  Whether it is a good friend or stranger sitting alone at the cafe, it was almost like I could read faces and feel chemistry.  I never told anyone about this...(I wouldn't call it a gift)...."ability".  It's not something that I can help or ignore.  There have been times when I have been deeply entrenched in my own struggles and sorrows and yet, still, I am aware of the emotions of those around me.  I'm often nauseas after certain events like a funeral or a visit to an airport where everyone is saying good-bye and I'm completely drained and worn out after a full Sunday at church.  Raising my children has been challenging in this regard because I have learned them so well that it only takes a little red in the eyes or slump of the posture and I know that something is wrong.  When they are sick...almost unbearable.

If you've ever been hurting and shared that with a group and then gone home and thought to yourself, "I am so sad.  I know all of those people seemed concerned but now they are back in their houses with their own stuff and not even thinking about me."-you're wrong.  I would be the one in the group that is not only thinking about you that night but well into the rest of the week.

This is very handy for keeping me up-to-date on my "thinking of you" cards when someone is going through a trial!

Lest you read this and think that I am bragging, I can reassure you, I'm not.  There have been many, many days and events that I have wished that I would have tunnel vision.  That I could shake the dust of another's hardship off my boots and come back home in freedom to relax.  

The biggest irony, and I know it probably doesn't seem ironic to most, is that God has opened my life and my heart to Biblical Counseling.  I know...makes sense, right?  Person who is aware of pain and hurt should be helper to people in pain and hurting. 

 I don't know.  It seems-not fair, sometimes.  Shouldn't this blessed ministry go to someone stronger, with thick skin, who can balance their help and their home with much more wisdom?

I guess this is on my mind because I meet with several people a week, young and old, couples and singles and I'm coming off my last appointment.  I also lead a crisis accountability group on Tuesday nights for some dear women who have long since become sisters in the faith and share with a transparency and genuineness that would knock your socks off.

After my sessions, I take notes to keep myself updated on each case and this involves reliving the hours again.  

Tonight I got called on an emergency visit to a woman who has miscarried and is suicidal.

So many hurting people.

My memory sees all of their faces from this week, their tears and heartaches.  They fall and they get up again with God's amazing grace but their knees are still skinned.  They have unanswered questions that I have to encourage them to leave unanswered at the feet of Jesus.  They have been victimized, abused, abandoned, and betrayed.  They are stuck in habits that are terribly hard to break and a darkness that seems overwhelming.  All of this, and I haven't even gotten to church this Sunday!

I feel like David Dunn and I'm in the middle of a battlefield...I don't need a cape because I have the armor of God and as person after beloved person brushes up against me, I am intimately aware that life is hard, people are desperate and I am completely inadequate in the process.

At the end of Thursday, when I drop exhausted in my bed, I only have one hope...

There is a Messiah and it's not me.  

There is a real life Superhero and He came 2000 years ago and He is acquainted with our suffering.  His arms were outstretched for us and continue to reach toward us as we, second by second, depend upon His mercy and grace.  He is everything.  He is sufficient.  He is enough.  

I don't resent my special ability much anymore.  I'm pretty sure I will die much younger than my peers and have been known to pop a prozac or two on most days.  My emotions are frazzled but God's Spirit gives me the supernatural ability to rest in His sovereignty over the lives of those in my path and to be able to laugh and sing and dance for joy that I have such great hope.

And the memories of the faces that have surrounded me this week and every week are treasured.  They remind me that life is about something bigger than myself and my small problems.  They cause me to cry out to God in the middle of the night.  They make me love when I want to protect myself.  They urge me to keep going because the time is short and laborers are few.

Unbreakable, I am not.  

Abundantly pardoned and utterly dependant in my brokenness...definitely.

The Fight

Present

Every morning is the same thing.

I wake my 16 and 13 year old up at 7am for school.

I don't want to do this.  I, myself, would rather stay curled up in bed... No, I would even forfeit that and launch head on into a crazy day that I've had not much sleep for, at a neck-bracing pace if only I wasn't forced to daily participate in

 "The Fight"

Josiah hates school.  I could thesaurus that word and come up with several colorful, hostile terms to try to create for you his emotion but HATE covers it (and Josiah would not think describing school at any length would be at all worth it!).

Really, the kid does not like school.  It's a great school, good teachers, easy classes, lovely girls but all of these give little balm to my son who would prefer to never think and stay within his 4 walls with his 4 people and draw quietly.

Hate.

He does.

So, this morning was quite the same and I'm writing this in part so that  a year from now I can look back and, Oh please, Lord-let it be so-Josiah may have changed his ways.  Grown out of this special phase he is in.  Please.

He met me bedside to see why it was that I was looking at the Commercial News instead of up and suffering as he was.  I got up.  Then he wanted to tell me how much he'd like to skip and how I should let him do that every once in a while.  I said no.  Then he explained that if he didn't skip that he would have to come home this afternoon, do a bunch of homework, go to guitar lessons and then spend the rest of the night at Bible study and so there wouldn't really be an "evening" for him to enjoy.

I told him that I was looking at having the have the same busy day along with cleaning the house, teaching at said Bible study and cooking for the family.

He then, with great compassion, said that that was another good reason to skip because...(and don't miss this)...there was so much to be done around the house and he could help me.

Oh brother.

I left him to complete his morning rituals and as I was trying to get the stinking cowlick on the back of his head to lay down, I looked at him with the last shred of patience that I had and said, "Well, you are very handsome."

His retort....

"I've never seen a handsome prisoner before they locked him up in jail."

Ok.

You win.

(BTW...he's clearly not aware of what's "trending" or he would have seen the infamous picture of Jeremy Meeks and realized that in one, tear shaped tattoo, his whole theory was blown!)

Words

Present

Been up since 4 taking my dad to a doctor's appointment in Indianapolis.  Still no definite answers but I am clear on one point:  I don't do 4am well.

Nope.

So, in the interest of keeping this short and sweet but still fulfilling my commitment to write something every day, I will say that I have been impressed and amused by some of the words that people used in my life the last few hours.

Samuel said "inept" this evening.  Great word and while I wasn't sure he even knew what it meant he did use it in a proper sentence by describing himself as "socially inept".

This statement is only partially true and was used in reference to how little he addresses his Aunt Stephanie at school despite being in her classroom every day.  I feel this probably has something to do with the fact that she has actually changed his poopy diapers and kissed him a bagillion times on his giant, baby forehead but none-the-less...he must speak to his dear, old Auntie.

To say that he is inept in having face to face conversations with the opposite sex would in fact be an extreme understatement regarding eptness.  I blame that on texting.  I further blame that on the fact that I bought him his phone and pay for unlimited texting.

I'm learning to embrace parental failure.

The aforementioned Aunt Stephanie also used the word "tawdry" tonight to describe a past action of hers.  I have not heard this word in ages and it made me smile.

Just for the record, she has in fact never been tawdry in her entire life and if she has been in secret, behind my back, then I certainly am not responsible for teaching it to her!

Unless I did.

I'm furthermore embracing best friend failure.

Until tomorrow.....

Sitting next to her

Present

First...It's always nice when your husband comes into the bedroom early in the morning, quietly sits down beside you and then goes on to tell you that you actually almost killed the whole family as they slept last evening because you left the oven on all night from the batch of cookies you made at 7pm.

I've only been speculating but I'm pretty sure I can now consider it academic.

OCD. Cured.

Today was my day of the month to go see my girls at the Nursing home. I love them. Shirley and Mona are my pals there and I'm very concerned that Shirley is going to break a hip running to me when I get there and at the same time-LOVE IT so much.

Resolved

I will do this.

I will daily journal on my blog because handwriting in a journal makes my fingers hurt and I hate my penmanship.

And because I always fail at the "diet resolution".

I will do this.

It's so much easier...

Past

My youngest memory as far as I can tell was of being picked up by my father from my crib. I specifically remember feeling completely safe as he carried me to the breakfast table for pancakes. Alright, I don't exactly know it was pancakes but it was morning and we were headed to the kitchen and pancakes make me feel happy...much like my father's embrace.

Present

First, I don't want to forget that Josiah told me the other day that (after having to be away for the night with my dad at the hospital) he hoped I was coming home that night because it was very boring the night before without me. Maybe one of the best mom compliments I've ever gotten.

Today, I talked to my dad on the phone. He is ill. We don't know why. He is unable to do the things he wants to do. I'm proud of my brothers and sisters. They are all picking up the slack and without complaint as each feels a great debt to my father for his years of support and love.

My dad hates it. He feels like less of a man. Like life is stealing his dignity.

I told him that I loved him and that at 40, I find myself reflecting more than anything else. Time is slipping through my fingers. I want to slow it down so I don't miss a thing. He may think I missed it but I didn't. All of the money and time and sacrifice and fears and patience that he has had with me....he's never once asked me to change. He's always loved me just as I was. I'll always remember.

And then I cried. Mostly because I'm a daddy's girl but even more because I'm not guaranteed how many of these "talks" I'll get with him. I feel blessed that it is so easy for me to tell him that there's nothing I wouldn't do for him, no distance I wouldn't go to be by his side if he needed me, no words I wouldn't say if I thought it would even remotely let him know how much he is treasured.

It was a good talk.

Future

I never want to forget to say the things to the people I care about while they are in this land of the living. All of those fleeting appreciations that pass through your head and are quickly repressed with more immediate tasks or conversations. I don't want to leave this earth with anyone I love wondering...

Sam and Mama..."Against the World!"

I can't believe it...I mean, I SERIOUSLY can't believe it.

My first baby boy is becoming a teenager this week.

I can remember living in Wisconsin when Sam was born. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Literally. Matt was working full-time and going to school full-time and we saw him for about an hour during the daylight. I was 24 and living far away from home for the first time...with a baby. Wisconsin is cold, It's bleak most of the year. I had fears and depression and loneliness and a screaming baby that I could not make nurse!


On the other hand...I had a screaming baby that I could not make nurse. I did. They said I wouldn't. They were wrong.

I can remember when they first put him in my arms that I thought...I don't have to choose to love him. It's so natural. I just...love him. It's that easy. Baby made= crazy,fanatical love. It was amazing.

On many occasions as I would face another long afternoon and evening alone, I would pack Sam up in the car and head to the Dollar Tree. I took along a hiking backpack (which is all I had at the time) and I'd stick him in it and say, "Here we go, Sam-Sam. It's Sam and Mama against the world!" He would squeal and kick me with his little baby-sized Reeboks and we'd be off.

Then I woke up.

Thirteen years later in what seemed like overnight.

I remember when I found out I was pregnant with Sam. Since being able to conceive was not on my radar, you will understand when I tell you that I nursed the WORST case of the "stomach flu" for like 2 weeks! Then a lady at work mentioned that I might be pregnant and I was like..."Wha-huh?". It's been said that "Life is what happens while you're busy making plans" and I understood that for the first time. I was making new plans and "life" happened.

The day I took the pregnancy test and got a positive, I was strangely freaking out! You'd think I'd be walking around on cloud nine from this miracle that had occurred and instead I just kept a mantra going of "How will we buy him coats, Matt? He'll need coats. It's the arctic here. How will we buy him coats?"

My panic turned to glee as I realized that I had beaten all my girlfriends in having a baby. I love to one-up them! I know..that sounds terrible but I just don't have a lot going for me. These are pretty amazing women! Sadly, that joy was short-changed for tears when they came to meet Sam for the first time and then left me to go party together at the dorms! (Hateful thing to do to someone in post-partum!) I believed I would never sleep again...

and then I wake up to quietness. Sam is on hour 9-something of uninterrupted slumber and I realize that sleeping is back. Sam doesn't need me to feed him or get him out of the crib. He may still come down with "sleepy-head hair" but he also comes with bad breath and the strangest smelly body that can only be described as "teen-aged boy" and I wish for former days again.

I tried to buy him footed pajamas this past Christmas.

Don't judge me.

I always buy him and Jo matching pj's for Christmas and I found the cutest large size at Target. I mean...THEY HAD SKULLS ON THEM!! What is the problem?

He did the obligatory wearing of them for Christmas Eve but shortly there after he threw them at me and said, "YOU wear them if you think they are so cute!" I tried. Those aren't very flattering for a shapely gal. (Just for the record.)

I'm lost. I don't know how to transition. He's so confusing. One day he wants a cellphone or a laptop and the next, he definitely wants Legos for his birthday. He said he wanted a sleep-over birthday party but then he invited girls!! Where are we at here? Are we little or big?

So, I blog this for Sam on his introduction to teen life.

My son...

You are about to experience the most fun, and exciting and horrendous years of your life.

You will get to do BIG things but you will always want to do BIGGER. You will have moods that you can't explain but will expect everyone else to understand. You will have love for girls and you will nurse painful broken hearts. You will make lots of friends and some will stay but more will go. There will be disappointments and let-downs and the inevitable failures but there will also be laughter and moments you won't forget and exhilaration for life that you will never get back.

You will drive...and seriously...that terrifies me.

You will probably not end up marrying one of my friend's daughters thereby legally binding them to me for life but that's ok cause' I want God's woman for you.

Hopefully, you will always have that feeling you get when you come back home. That it's safe. That you're loved. That you're wanted.

And most of all...Love Jesus. Love Him most. Follow Him. He really knows what He's talking about when it comes to life and love and contentment and joy. Listen to His voice...He can make your little life supernaturally purposeful. I know.

Here's the simple truth, Sambo. You've grown up...but I haven't. When I look at you, I still see the toddler that won his way into our hearts. I still feel the burden of you on my back...kicking me and squealing. It's still you and me, Sam.

Against the world!

(All-time favorite pic of Jo...giving a gentleman's bow to the bride to attempt to persuade her to dance with him. I love her reaction!)

Fun with Editing!

"Daddy"

To my eldest...

I really believe that it's my job to "learn" you. I have lots of things that I consider my jobs in life but that one definitely ranks high on the list.

For 12 years now, I've been doing my job.

Watching, listening, sneaking and peeking, reading and staring. Asking, asking and more asking.

Who is Sam? What makes him tick...what makes him ticked off?! What does he feel passionate about? What makes him cry? What are his gifts and weaknesses? What are his values, struggles, and ambitions? Will his blush today when I mention girls? Will he pull away when I grab his hand at the store? And so much more....

I'm learning you.

You're a hard thing to learn.

You're alive and growing and developing and changing.

Just about the time I think I've learned something-it's wrong now.

I learn you because I take it seriously that I am to train you. To direct you. To protect you. I can't really do any of those things - if I don't know you. It's critical. It's the biggest ball that so many moms drop.

I learn you for God. He made you. He knows you inside and out. He entrusted you-His own creation- to me for the raising. He wants your life to glorify Him. It's your purpose. I don't take that lightly. You came from my King.

Tonight we were practicing the readers theater for Sunday and I know the truth. I know you don't really want to do it. I know that you know that you have to do lots of things for church that you don't want to because of who you are.

I'm being careful, Sam. I know that with ministry it isn't suppose to be whether you can but rather if you should-If He wills.

You grimaced because you had to say a line that said "Daddy" and you were embarrassed that your friends would think that you say that at home and make fun of you.

(I also know that you still DO call him daddy at home!)

I know that you are walking into the years of the giant "fear of man". I have compassion for you. It's the worst! But, I know other things also...

I know if you give in to it now-You'll give in to it 20 years from now.

I know if I let you give in to it now-I will see it again 20 years from now in your marriage, your job, your ministry and in your Spiritual journey.

I'll regret even more then because I knew it now.

I love you, Sam. The simple truth for today is that God has given you to me for the knowing and the guiding.

Trust me with the knowledge...of you.

The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters,
but one who has insight draws them out. Proverbs 20:5

Pies and People-A Memory

My Prince of Danville-

I know I shared this with you on Thanksgiving but I want to officially get it on the record!

This is a fact.

"One day one of your children will ruin one of your wife's pies."

I remember it so clearly. We were rushing out the door to be able to make it to GG's for a party and my job was to carry a pie to the car. My mom had worked all day on the pies. She made them lattice-top. Mine was Cherry. That was my favorite.

I can't remember to tell you what happened as I approached the two stairs that led to the car but the end result was a lattice-top, cherry pie...

upside down. On the ground.

Memaw was so mad and especially now, I don't judge her for that. She had worked hard and money was scarce.

We were Lathrop's. An upside-down, grounded cherry pie was a deep loss.

She yelled at me and scolded me good and that's were the memory ends. Some may count that as a parenting failure but I think the beauty is in the fact that that memory stays with me. In fact, it was immediate in my mind Thanksgiving Day, 2010....

When you stepped in my Pumpkin pie.

Daddy was furious. We were late and you had been warned to be careful. We are Harmlesses. A half-squished Pumpkin pie is deep loss. Even WE don't like to eat pie that somebody has stepped in.

He yelled at you. Scolded you good! Some would count that as a parenting failure except for....

Upside-down, grounded, cherry pie.

With your head down and a broken spirit, I remembered my own pie catastrophe. I couldn't let you be alone in your shame.

"Sambo...Mommy isn't mad. When I was your age, I dropped my mom's lattice-top cherry pie and so I know how you feel. I forgive you. I love you."

The Simple Truth....

Forgiveness is contagious.

and

People are more important than pie.

Luke 7:44- "Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

He's listening

My sweetie boys....

Today I was listening to a sermon which led me to the story of Zechariah. (Luke 1). Andy Stanley pointed out verse 13..." But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard."

For years Zechariah and Elizabeth had been praying for a child. Years. Years and years and years. While the angel's message was wonderful-bringing the answer that they had longed for, the real stopping point for me today was verse 13. Their prayer had been heard.

There will be times, my boys, when you will doubt that your prayers have reached heaven. God will be silent and you will question everything that you know about Him.

Run to this verse. Hold onto it with great faith.

God hears us.

He may not answer for a long time. He may not answer the way we want.

He will always answer perfectly. Perfectly timed. Perfectly best.

This is the simple truth for today. Even though God may be silent-He is listening.

A post to upload my new signature

Voice Doctor- Round Two

SO, tomorrow I'm visiting a voice doctor.

I saw a voice doctor a few years ago and this led to a very painful experience. Tonsil...gone. Sinuses...re-constructed. All with the hope that I would re-gain a strong singing voice and better capacity to breathe.

It's been three years since I put all my singing eggs into that torturess surgery basket and sadly, I'm worse. I can't sing alone in front of people at all and even when leading the congregation at our church, must bail on them after the first song because I lose my voice.

Most concerning is the choking. I've come to choke close to every meal. Sometimes, I wake up in the night chocking. I hate not being able to sing but to take away my ability to eat in peace...this is no good!

So, I'm heading to a specialist tomorrow and I'm realistic. I'm hopeful that the chords are clear with no growths and that I come away without the prospect of any further surgery. Frankly, I'll just be happy if the guy doesn't gag me with that wooden vomit stick!

I want to sing again. It's therapeutic. I remember all of the hours that I rehearsed back in the corner of my mom's hair salon by the stereo on her days off. I would belt out songs for hours and emerge a new woman! Some people run...some dance...some talk....I sang.

Where to begin?

In a crowded room full of women the other day, it was quickly mentioned that my talent was writing.

I wasn't sure what to think about that.  It is evident to me that on some level this just can't be correct because I can BARELY teach my 5th grader grammar without having to fake my way through it.  

But, it's true.  I used to love to write.  It was a sweet spot for me.  A release when my voice would no longer cooperate and sing.

Have I been sucked in by Facebook and how lazy you can be with your limited one-liners and your quick feedback?  Am I too tired to dedicate to this cause?  Am I too private now?

Neglect

My poor, sad blog has suffered severe neglect to the hands of Facebook....I said I would never do this but sadly, I'm lazy and FB is much easier.

My life is busy with everything that a mom and wife has on her plate and I'm renovating a house with my dad and brother.

Life is always changing and you'd think by my age, I would be prepared for that. Some easy, some hard...some good, some sad...some expected and unexpected....it reminds me to hold loosely to things that are temporal and hold fast to my One, True Love- Christ.