Senior Pictures...and Mama Confessions

This is my senior boy. I know you've been hearing a bit about our first born lately around these blog-parts, and I promise I will post about something else soon. But truthfully, I'm a bit consumed by this fleeting time.

My sweet friend Dawn Marshall took his senior pictures last month and she let us share one here. They turned out great, don't you think?

She also emailed me a copy of a pic she snapped before the one above. When Timothy took his guitar out of his case, it was a bit dusty. So, without skipping a beat, I did what mamas do. I dusted it off with the bottom of my skirt. Dawn, being a mama herself, was amused by the gesture. (Please ignore the fact that it was not my best side!)

Speaking of not my best side, I've been doing some thinking on the stuff we mamas do...the schedules we juggle, the guilt we carry, the things we forget, the things we'll never forget, the things we wish we could forget, and the things we want to remember forever, the things we mess up, and the moments when God's grace shines through and we breathe a satisfied sigh.I've been pondering the passing of time...the way everyone says that it will go so fast. 

They are so right.

I returned to my job as a paraprofessional at a local elementary school last week, and Timothy is in the thick of his very last high school golf season ever. SGM is busy and growing. Tim started his own business. And, James started middle school. I can feel the pull of my heart's desire to be the "keeper of my home" and the reality of the everyday demands of life. While I need to work, and enjoy my job working with special needs students, there are days when I would love to focus solely on the needs of my family...and bake some cookies. I've never felt like one of those people who could do it all. I try, but I mess it up.

I forget things, miss appointments, and constantly feel like I'm juggling and about to drop all the balls hanging in the air. A co-worker and fellow mama was sharing at lunch about  her child's homework, and forgetting something.

I looked up and said, "I don't know how other working mothers do it. Some seem to have it all together. I stink at it!"

And, I was thinking maybe I'm not the only mom who feels that way sometimes...whether we work outside of the home, or not. Maybe we all have moments when we feel like we are messing it all up. 

But, then, I look at my boy...almost all grown up. I remember the prayers I've prayed for his life...and the answers I've seen so far. I think about God's faithfulness, reflecting on all He has already done. Surely He isn't finished yet. His promises are the same for both my boys.

And, let me tell you...God hears the prayers of a mother.

I love that God is always big enough for everything that weighs on my mama-heart. I love that it's about His faithfulness...not my inability to get it right. It's about His strength...made perfect through my weakness. Always and without fail.

I'm so grateful...and now if you'll excuse me...I think I'll go bake some cookies.

My Mother's Ring (Updated to add my new wedding ring and some better pics!)

Tim bought my first mother's ring for me the Christmas after we said goodbye to our only daughters, Faith and Grace. I wanted a piece of jewelry that signified all my children: Timothy and our girls...a January and two Novembers.

Less than two years later, I walked into the jewelry store beside my friend, Ginny. The lady behind the counter was a girl that we went to school with. She knew we had lost our baby girls, and responded with joy that I was there to add another stone to my ring. Assuming that our house was filled with joy, not grief. Assuming that a baby had come to fill my empty arms, she smiled and said,

"Congratulations."

I couldn't speak. I shook my head no, and turned as the tears spilled from my eyes, running from the store. Ginny stayed and told her about our Thomas, who was born in July and lived on this earth for six hours. We would need a ruby added to my ring. The girl's faced turned pale and she apologized profusely.
Now there were four.

I never thought there would be a fifth stone to add.

But, years later...

an unexpected miracle brought me back to the jewelry store.

It was time to add a May stone for the miracle that stayed and filled our house with his zest for life...sweet baby James.

This time, my friend no longer worked at the store and the people behind the counter said they couldn't add a stone to my ring. It was bent a little and thin from being worn. I began to tell them the story. I didn't expect tears that day, but the tears came when they said all they could do was offer me another ring...one that cost more than twice as much as the one I had.

So, for several years, there was no ring complete with the birthstones of my children.

Then, finally on a special occasion I can't remember, Tim and I replaced the ring on a shopping trip. Only, I lost it a few months later before a golf event.

More years passed...and I lamented over the ring that wasn't.

My mother went home to heaven, joining her grandbabies and leaving her mother's ring to her only daughter.

I have been considering for the past four years putting my babies' birthstones on my mom's mother's ring. But, there always seems to be another expense or more pressing need.

Recently, though, my engagement ring broke and I needed some other work done at the jeweler. So, I chose a local store called the Diamond and Gold Outlet. You can bring them your old, broken, used gold pieces you don't want and they will count the value toward your purchase. So, I had them put the stones representing my five children: (two on earth, three in heaven) on my mother's mother's ring, making it my own.

Not only does the ring represent my children, but also my mother.

I feel so blessed to have this precious, perfect gift on my finger representing those most dear to me.

And, an added blessing: The total cost with all the work I was getting done, including a new wedding ring,  was going to be $273.

With my gold jewelry trade-in, it only cost me: $18 !!!

I tried to take a picture, but my camera is not great and the flash lit up the ring too much. So, it's hard to see what it looks like. The important thing is that it's on my finger, complete with five precious stones, representing five precious lives. I love it...and I'm so grateful.

My Wedding Ring

O.K....so a couple people have asked me about my wedding ring. I had a small diamond solitaire on  a thin gold band that Tim gave me when he was just seventeen (the current age of our son...YIKES!). It was modest, but special because he gave it to me. I tend to wear more silver jewelry (or white gold), but I didn't give a lot of thought to ever changing the rings. They were the ones he gave me when we were married, and I don't require a lot of fanciness. Besides, a big old ring would just get in my way!

But when my engagement ring broke recently, I gave some thought to my mother's white gold engagement ring that she had left to me when she passed. I thought if I was going to have to invest in fixing my ring anyway, maybe I would just wear her ring, and get a white gold band to match. I'm a sentimental gal, so I wasn't sure how I felt about wearing a wedding set that wasn't from Tim. But, after talking to him, I felt better. It's just stuff, after all. A ring doesn't make a marriage...that's for sure! And, he was happy for me to have something pretty and new. I chose a white gold wedding band, and the jeweler put a finish on it to match mom's engagement ring.

What did I do with the diamond Tim had given me when he asked me to marry him?

Well the same jeweler who gave me such a great deal is creating a necklace using a heart pendant from one of my mother's necklaces and putting my engagement diamond in the middle of it. That way, it will always be close to my heart. =) I'll show a picture when it's finished. And, I still have my little gold band that Tim placed on my finger seventeen years ago. I will wear it with my mom's set from time to time. I'm not much for following the rules. Mixing gold and silver...that's just how I roll! =)

Both pieces are very special to me...and they encompass all of the people on this earth (and some in heaven) that mean the most to me: Tim, my children, and my mother.

What precious, simple gifts. They are just right. Like my mother, I'd much rather have something that's precious to me than something fancy and expensive.

Treasures in heaven are the ones that matter most, but I'm sure grateful for these sweet reminders on earth as well.

Doing Our Best with the Shot We're Given and Other Musings from the Wee Hours of the Morning

I stood at the counter in the dentist's office this week, attempting to schedule our next appointment. I was thinking out loud about the best time for our oldest son, Timothy, to go for his check-up in August, since he would be back in the thick of golf season by then. I fumbled for a moment and stopped.

The receptionist said, "I know...isn't it a pain to schedule around all these things our kids are involved in?"

I replied, "It isn't that...it's just. This is the last time I will be scheduling a dentist appointment around his golf season. He will be a senior by then...and this will be his last golf season."

I won't lie. I did get a little teary in the middle of the checkout line at the dentist's office. And, the moms who have walked through this season of parenting nodded with understanding and a knowing compassion in their eyes. They get it. They know what it's like to walk around forever with your heart outside of your body...to pour your heart and soul into the loving and training of this person...to learn to love what they love and spend endless hours watching them do what they love, encouraging them to blossom into the person they were created to be....nurturing their gifts...praying endless prayers for them...listening to their dreams...dreaming your own dreams for their lives...and learning to let go of some of those dreams, trading them for new dreams.

Everyone says it goes by in a blink...to cherish the time and soak in every moment. Everyone says it because it is true. When our babies are tiny and filling our arms, we find it hard to believe that there will ever come a day when they will not need us. They spend their formative years under our wings, being shaped and molded, loved and protected. But, it is a fleeting season. And, the seasons that come next can be a surprise. At least they were for me. I wasn't prepared for all the letting go and trusting God that goes on in the parenting of a child.

I was talking to a friend recently about some things her child is struggling with. And, in recent years, I have reflected on this concept with my own children and the children I work with in elementary school.  She mentioned the idea that he is "broken". That is a hard one for us, isn't it? As mothers, we don't ever want something to be broken in our children. We don't want them to struggle, or suffer, or face obstacles to overcome. Life is hard enough.

But, as we talked, and as I've been reflecting in the wee hours of another day that is beginning at around 2:30am....the truth is...

We're all broken.

Everyone is broken in some way. We all face obstacles, struggle with weaknesses, have little quirks. I recently had a conversation with one of the students in our classroom making the comment, "That's not fair" about something with which he was disgruntled. I told him gently and lovingly that in my house, my children were not allowed to say that phrase. "We are all different in our own way. All of us are living our own lives.We are all created unique in our own way, with different abilities and needs, strengths and weaknesses. Life isn't about fair. We do the best we can with what we are given, and do not worry about what someone else is given." (Don't get me wrong. I am compassionate with my kids that life sometimes is a bummer and hard things happen. I just don't want them wallowing in whether or not something is fair...or spending time comparing their own lot in life with someone else. It is a fruitless endeavor.)

My son loves to golf, and he's pretty good at it. He often says that the best place to be mentally on the golf course is not hoping or expecting to hit the perfect shot every time. It's being able to do the best with the shot you're given. Instead of throwing in the towel when you get a bad lie or things don't go your way, or a shot veers off to the left or right, you ask yourself, "O.K., what's the best I can do right now....with this shot...from right where I am." You cannot dwell on the regret that the previous shot didn't work out...and you can't try and make up for it by overcompensating on your next shot. You can only play this shot...the one you are given right now.

In life, we can only do the best with what we are given. Dwelling on the "what-ifs" and "if onlys" does nothing to change our circumstances. And, neither does worrying about the future. What we have learned in our own lives about being broken, is that there is beauty in the brokenness. Some of the most precious gifts of this life come from the broken places. It's easier sometimes, to apply those lessons to ourselves, but not so easy when it comes to our children. We don't want them to have any broken places. But, without some of the brokenness in this life, we would miss some of the most precious beauty.

There are many prayers I've prayed for my children, but there are a few things that stand out as I look into this new season of parenting, feeling all reflective and sentimental. Of course, I pray for them to be godly young men, compassionate and soft hearted as well as strong and sure, and that they would marry godly women. I pray that they will use their gifts and abilities to serve the Lord. But, these three stand out.

Number One....I pray that my boys would love Jesus...that they would know Him intimately as their Savior and Lord. That they would live their lives for Him.

Number Two...I pray that they would honor God with their lives and that they would honor their family, as well.

Number three...I pray that they would be confident in the person each was created to be...comfortable in their own skin...unwavering in their convictions.

We can't make things perfect for our kids. We can't protect them from every injustice and ensure that their lives flow smoothly, free from any obstacles. In fact, quite the opposite. We must prepare our children for the bumps they will inevitably face along their journey through life in this imperfect and quite broken world. We must help them build a sure foundation that will not crumble when the storms of life come rushing in.

And, one more thing that seems important to mention in the wee hours of this morning, after wrestling with my own concerns for my children and my own imperfections as their mother, once more laying it all at the feet of Jesus: Know that you are covered in grace. I'm so grateful that, in the darkness of night, when all my failures seem so glaringly evident, I can simply pray that God would cover my family with His grace. That He would cover the areas where I have fallen short, the things I've neglected, the opportunities I missed, times when I was less than I could have been, or didn't know the best way to do it. He's big enough to cover it all...and more than able.

Plus...He's faithful...even when I'm not.

Let's Hear it for the Boys

On this Veteran's Day, we are thankful to all the men and women who have served, are currently serving, and will someday serve this country...and to their families. Thank you for the sacrifices you make every day to protect our freedom and our beloved country. You have our prayers and our gratitude.

That being said, I would like to dedicate the rest of this post to boys and men and all the things that make them who they are.

I've been reflecting on the gift of the plethora of boys in my life, and the reasons God put them there. Why would he surround me with three brothers, three step brothers, a manly-man husband, and three sons (one in heaven)? You can imagine my initiation into wife/motherhood. I had been in a home where the woman was in charge, where tea sets and flowers had the free reign of the house. And, I married this man who hunted with guns and went to the woods willingly, and rode big horses that made me sneeze, and slurped his milk when he ate his cereal, and came home dirty and smelly after a hard day's work, and wrestled with our son to bond with him, and thought he should be in charge.

What was this foreign land...and how did I get here?

My posse of church ladies stepped in and taught me the importance of loving, honoring, and respecting my husband. I soon learned to look at having the husband as the head of the family as a gift. They also taught me the importance of shaping my son into a young man with all the characteristics he would need to lead his family one day. Courage, integrity, strength, a protector, a provider...perseverance, commitment, a standard of excellence, the heart of a warrior, a willingness to fight the good fight... to stand for truth...to place his trust in the God who created him.

I have been reflecting on the making of a warrior's heart. A boy just doesn't become a man over night. Seeds have to be planted in his heart along the way. He needs challenges to overcome, adventures to embark on, obstacles to conquer. He needs those things to become the strong man he was created to be. That involves the kind of love that doesn't hold on too tightly...the kind of mother who knows when she needs to let go and get out of the way. And, the kind of father who leads by example. That didn't always come easy for me, a woman who loves to be in control. And a woman who spent many years clinging tightly to the child that wasn't taken home to heaven too soon, while watching the others slip from my grasp. But, I learned...sometimes with the gentle leading of my quiet, but extremely wise husband...that sometimes, I need to step back and get out of the way. Children can't spread their wings and soar when we are holding on too tightly...and they can't learn how to make the right choices if they never have the opportunities to make any choices of their own.

Certainly the God who made the sun stand still and parted the Red Sea is capable of keeping my children in His care, guiding them on the right path, and growing them into the young men He has created them to be...right?

For a girlie girl, I find it interesting that God has, in His infinite wisdom, chosen to surround me with boys my entire life. Perhaps He desires that I learn how to love and honor men and the gift they are to us. Perhaps He meant for me to develop the abiding appreciation that has captured my heart for all things little boy...and big alike. For, I do so adore boy-world (well, most of it!) and all of it's rumbly, tumbly, noisy, burping, giggling, one-liner zinging, golf-swinging, dog rolling, tackling, pizza-eating, muddy, wrestling goodness.

And, it's a good thing. Because, these days my tiny house is full of boys! After school there are James' friends, the neighbor boy, Timothy, and sometimes several of his friends (which are all now man-sized). James played wiffle ball for hours after school yesterday with a few boys while Timothy squeezed a golf game out of one of the fleeting last days of this year's Indian summer with a car full of boys. After bible study, we turned the corner to find several boys playing football on our cul-de-sac in the street.

I said, "What on earth?"

And, then..."Wait a minute...I think these boys belong to me! Or at least one of them!"

Sure enough...it was Timothy and a group of guys playing some "street" ball. James joined in. And, I smiled...shaking my head as I went into the house. They came in all sweaty, red faced and out of breath a few minutes later and launched into a video game, with their raucous trash talking....all crammed into my tiny living room.

My cup runneth over...

My Loves...

I was going to write this post about how much I'm lovin' my new Lenovo laptop Sufficient Grace recently purchased from Ed at Solid Rock Computers.

I was even going to post a photo of my Lenovo. But, for some reason, I am having a terrible time downloading my pictures from my camera to my computer this evening. I guess I still need to figure out a few things before we will be at top form.

But, it sure beats contorting my body in impossible positions just so I can type my ramblings to all of blogland...

So, even though I can't access all of my photos and documents yet...

I am still lovin' my superfast Lenovo...

And I spent the weekend (and my life for that matter) lovin' these beautiful people, too...








What else have I been doing on this three day weekend? Working on some big blog changes coming soon...stay tuned! (I am sooooo excited!)

Sixteen

Sixteen years ago, I was just one year out of high school...Tim still had one year to go...



Sixteen years ago on this bitterly cold January night, we bounced along in my mother's blue minivan, on ice and snow covered roads. Mom drove frantically, as I moaned and breathed through each contraction. A nervous eighteen-year-old, Tim tried to remain strong in the backseat. He may have leaned up to talk to me every once in awhile, to whisper words of encouragement. He may have held my hand. He probably did. But, I don't remember. I just remember the snow and ice, the anxious excitement, that look in my mother's eyes...that fierce I-will-meet-the-challenge-brave-the-icy-roads-protect-my-daughter-determined-mother-look.

We were so young...

I had been contracting regularly for some time, and by the time we went to the hospital, the contractions were about five minutes apart. They were getting stronger. I breathed through them for hours as my labor progressed at an agonizing snail's pace. More than twenty-four hours of contractions, (finally) an epidural, and a complicated delivery later, on January 20th, our Timothy was born. I became a mama. And, Tim became a dad.



In one, amazing, miraculous, life-changing moment...we were parents. Oh, the gift this boy has been to our lives. We thank God for all the ways his life has blessed ours. What we have learned about love, grace, life, loss, and family as we have walked through this life and grown-up together, in many ways. He is more man than boy now, as he prepares to get his driver's license and sasses me with his man voice or rolls his eyes to exert his independence. But, when I look at him, I sometimes still see my sweet four-year-old boy, still hear his deep belly giggles, still feel his hand in mine.




Sometimes, I miss my boy...but, even though we don't always see eye-to-eye, I am also thankful for the young man he is growing to be...


Sixteen years ago, I received an amazing miraculous gift...I became a mom!




Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Tim!

Timothy's Golf Skills, Stuff That Makes Me Happy...and a Giveaway

Yes...I am a little proud of my oldest son's mad golf skills! How cool is this video he made in the backyard? I thought you might like it!

I don't have much to say that's earth-shattering here...but I thought I'd keep it simple and maybe do something fun and random if you're up for it. That's about as deep as I can get right now.

It's been on my heart lately to find joy in the little things. So, here's the deal: I'm going to list five things that "make me happy". They have to be in the simple, little things category. I'd love to hear what makes you happy, too. So, if you'd like to play along, list five things that make you happy in the comments below...and you will be entered to win a signed copy of Lynnette Kraft's wonderful book, In Faithfulness, He Afflicted Me. For a chance at a second entry, become a follower of this blog...or let me know in the comments if you already are a follower! I love a good giveaway! Giveaways make me happy!! =)

What Makes Me Happy (this week)?

1. Fresh tomatoes...mmmm, mmmm...good.
2. The smell of my kitchen after I've baked cookies all day (and the satisfied tummies of my family after they sink their teeth into the goodies!).
3. Cleveland Browns football (Even more so in the rare event that we win! And triple if we beat the Steelers...sorry September! Quadruple if Brady's playing!)
4. New school supplies (especially pink post its).
5. Laughing with friends.

O.K....your turn...What makes you happy?

The Most Willy Nilly Hodge Podge of a Post Ever

GoodSearch & GoodShop

YOU SEARCH OR SHOP...
WE GIVE!

Raise money for Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women  just by searching the web and shopping online!

Search the web now!

Free coupons at top stores!

Add to your site

I promise there will be a little Wednesday Walk stuff at the end of this post. But, there are a few other things I need to share first. Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women is now listed with www.GoodSearch.com along with 81,000 other non-profit organizations. You can help support our ministry by using Good Search as your search engine and listing Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women as the cause you support. It's actually quite easy to download the goodsearch toolbar right on to your computer. Then everytime you search, a donation is made. They will give a penny for every search done through Good Search. So the more people who participate, the better. They also donate a portion of the proceeds of products purchased through Good Shop at a variety of merchants, to the charity of your choice. The service is free to you and earns money for our organization. As you know, we do not charge bereaved parents for our products or services, so this helps us greatly. We have been so blessed by the support given by everyone recently. And, we are grateful for this opportunity, as well.

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A sweet blog friend, Stephanee, recently sent me a lovely gift I wanted to share with you. She has started an organization to support moms who have had a loss. Stephanee received a Dreams of You Memory Package, when her son Vayden was born. She sent us a beautiful picture of Vayden with the Comfort Bear we sent her...and she and Vayden's big brother, Vashon have taken comfort in cuddling the baby-sized bear. I am so blessed to know that this family was comforted by our gift. You can read about Vashon's Cuddle Brother, here.

Stephanee's organization is called My Very Own Angel. Her mission and hope is that mothers would not be ashamed of their precious babies who have gone to heaven or afraid to acknowledge them, but that they would be able to embrace the gift of being their mother. She also would like to share stories of encouragement from those who chose to carry their babies to term and found the time to be a precious gift.

You can contact her, here, to share your story: myveryownangel@gmail.com.

She will also be donating 345 teddy bears to hospitals in memory of her precious Vayden each year. To support her efforts and to support Sufficient Grace Ministries, Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and String of Pearls, her organization sells the t-shirt that I am modeling below in their Angel Shop. She will donate a portion of their proceeds to the three previously mentioned organizations. Thank you for this gift, Stephanee and for your heart to reach out to hurting families.



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And now...what we've been up to...

In between praying for Stellan...


And celebrating a successful end to the summer golf season and the beginning of the fall season for Timothy...


James and I took a trip to the beach at a local quarry. We had a blast enjoying the beauty of God's creation with some sand and water goodness!





Good old summertime fun! Lovin' it...
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And...to squeeze one more thing in...just a reminder that tomorrow on Walking With You, we will be sharing about the effect on our marriage after the loss of a baby. What has changed for better or worse? Struggles? Different grieving styles? Prayer needs? Advice and questions. Ways to support one another and grow as a couple. I look forward to walking with each of you.

Love to all...

The Gift of Right Now

Welcome to this week's Tuesdays Together in the Word and a combined Wednesdays Walk. Both seemed fitting. To join us, please click on the button below:







Therefore, be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain. You also be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. ~ James 5:7-8

When my oldest son, Timothy was young, I was quite confident in my own abilities as a mother. My ideas about parenting were very black and white. If you do x,y, and z you will achieve certain results. While far from perfect, I was consistent in discipline, abundant in love and nurturing, and taught him God's word as well as his A,B,C's. I also cared for several other children in my home day care. It was a joyous season of life. I was a young mom, and able to juggle my motherhood duties with ease. I potty-trained several boys at once without flinching, cooked lunch daily for a hungry brood, lassoed the little ones for story-time and naptime, sang to them, taught them to pray, laughed with them, survived the chicken pox plague of 1990-something, and counted it all joy. I thought that if I just did it all right, my child would turn out a certain way. He would be obedient, love the Lord, love America, love his mama, and just be a fine young man. While all of those things may very well come to pass (and in many ways have), I have learned a little since the days of my early motherhood. Some things that have turned my mommy-philosophies upside down and inside out.The path to getting to that point is not going to be as smooth as I once envisioned. It may not look anything like my plan, but it may bring forth fruit that I could never have imagined.

I was one of those moms who swelled with pride, thinking that my child's good behavior was a result of my successful parenting. I would sit at a restaurant with my well-behaved Timothy, looking at other wiggling children...thinking that those parents must not have taught their children to sit still in a restaurant. Tsk...tsk...

Then, it happened. Two things that have turned my mommy-world upside down.

1. My oldest son entered adolescence, and formed his own strong opinions, some of which are not of those that I so carefully taught him. He is trying to find his own way in this world, deciding what he thinks of this or that. I remember being shocked when we entered this season...shocked with the possibility that he would not necessarily choose to follow what we had always taught. (which actually for the most part, he has chosen well, so far. It's just the possibility that vexes me.) Shocked by the sudden lack of control. Shocked that my ideas of parenting a certain way to achieve a certain result were not fool-proof.

2. God gave us James. James has never fit exactly into a rigid mold with all my iron-clad ideas of mothering. He has always marched to the beat of his own drummer, requiring creative, purposeful parenting. James was the little boy wiggling in the restaurant...no matter how many times I would take him out to eat and encourage him in the art of sitting still. (As a matter of fact, an appalled mother sitting near us, once leaned over the booth and said, "Could you please make him stop being so obnoxious?" Granted, her disdain in my opinion was not warranted. James (maybe 2 at the time) was walking back and forth on the booth and smiling when he got to me, putting his arms around me and giving me a bear hug. The woman was in the booth behind us. And she was afraid he might bump her when he reached to hug me. He likes to live life large...and loud. He ran up the church aisle at the bible school program screaming like a wild, crazed native, having somehow escaped my grasp and removed his shirt in one fell swoop. I stood horrified as everyone else laughed. Poison control knew my voice by the time he reached his first birthday. He's had a cheerio up his nose, swallowed a lego, been stuck in a swing, and choked on dryer lint (don't ask). He has always had his quirks. Some of them easy to adjust to, and others that are more challenging. Parenting him has been a stretching experience... incredibly joyful and requiring a great deal of focus and energy.

And...to all of this, I say...what a gift. What a freeing gift these boys have been to my life. Yes, my mothering-ideas have been turned upside-down. I have learned that I truly need to trust the Lord for their lives as well as my own. I am going to mess up and so are they. (By the way, I don't judge other parents anymore...especially when their children are wiggling in the restaurant.) They are individuals, created by God...not little mini-me's meant to fit a mold of my choosing. (By the way...about the mini-me thing. It's really not that appealing. What our children often magnify are the qualities in ourselves we would rather not have revealed let alone magnified!) While it is important and necessary to keep planting seeds of God's word, wisdom, and truth...they may not grow exactly the way I have in mind. And, the growing takes time. There is a shaping and molding in the hands of our loving God. We can plant and water the seeds, but it is God who gives the increase. Like a farmer waiting for his crop to yield it's fruit, we must wait patiently for the seeds to grow.

God is teaching me about grace with my children...and grace for me as their mother. Every time their behavior was less than perfect, I used to wonder what I was doing wrong. (Incidentally, this attitude was never fruitful for any of us.) I would get focused on their performance and mine, forgetting the more important thing. Forgetting the importance of love and relationship. I am still learning. But, His grace is sufficient...for me and for them. Most of the battles are better fought on our knees in prayer.

I leave you with this...a lesson that even as I was teaching, it was I who was being taught. James and I were on a bike ride a couple days ago. He was so caught up in what we were going to do after the bike ride...so anxious about whether we would go swimming or not, that he was missing the joy of the bike ride. The sky was blue with big, fluffy clouds. The birds were singing. There was a slight breeze, and it was the perfect temperature. All around us was beauty, and the world seemed to sing praises to the Creator. But James was missing it. He was grumbling and complaining...missing the opportunity for joy. I could have simply scolded him, given a lecture and let my own joy slip away in the process. (Something I have probably done many times.) Instead, I smiled.

"James, stop your bike and sit under this tree with me, " I said as I pulled off the road and into the grass at the park.

"Why? What are we doing," he half-heartedly grumbled with an anxious sigh.

"Sit down, honey. You are so worried about what is going to happen next, you are missing the gift of what's happening right now."

As the words left my mouth, I knew that they were as much for me as they were for him. God was speaking to my own heart, teaching me the very thing that was being spoken to James with my own lips.

"Look at the sky. See how blue it is. See the different shapes the clouds make. Now, close your eyes. What do you hear?"

At first he said stubbornly frowning, "I hear kids swimming at the pool. And I'm not."

I smiled again, "What else do you hear?"

"The wind moving the trees."

"Birds."

"Children laughing."

"The motor of a car driving."

We opened our eyes, and talked about how we can see the wind blowing the trees but we can't see the wind. Kind of like we can't see God, but we can see the what He does in our lives. We can see the world that He made. Peace settled on James' face and mine.

"God gave us the gift of this beautiful day. Right now, we are on a bike ride. We have the opportunity to enjoy it, or miss out worrying about something else."

"Can we get back to the ride, now?" James asked.

So, off we went...riding our bikes...surrounded by the beauty of the world God made...living in the moment, relishing the gift of right now. I think He was smiling with us, don't you?

We'll Be Swimmin'....Swimmin'

O.K....don't ask me why but when I wrote the title just now, the really old school country song, "Swingin'" (from the late 70's or early 80's??) just popped in my head...only with the word swimmin' instead. I had it on an old 45 record when I was little if that tells you anything. When I went on a road trip to somewhere in the south (maybe Georgia?) with my Grandma and Grandpa T., they were playing some old school country (and it was even old school for back then!) and I was hooked on that swinging song. Another thing I remember from hanging out with my grandparents at Lake Erie was a lot of fishing and Doritos and Red Pop! Good times. Can you tell this is going to be a really random Wednesdays Walk? That's sort of where my brain is right now...a little melted from the heat, a little water-logged from the swimming, and a little random from the living of life.

Anyway...that's what we've been doing the past few days in the midst of the sweltering heat...a whole lot of swimming...at my stepdad's pool and Tim's mom's pool! And...it has been grand fun. Swimming, fun, and Doritos (without the Red Pop). I just realized that the Doritos are sort of a theme. They kind of go with anything, don't they? Ahem...

I must say swimming, especially at my mother's (stepdad's) reminds me of being young and full of life. Although, I can tell that I'm not as young as I used to be because I had to wait until the water was a little warmer before jumping in. Even just a couple years ago, I was ready in late May to jump right in with the kids. Sigh...

So, without further adieu...a little swimming and a little golf extravaganza to go with the random theme!








O.K....I'm off to golf with my husband in our couples league (and it's about 100 degrees!). I'll be back tomorrow to announce the winner of our Thirty-One Giveaway...click here to enter. And don't forget, Walking With You is also tomorrow. Hope you can join us...and, even if you are not a grieving mom, if you are willing to visit the sites of the courageous moms who share their stories and offer words of encouragement and prayer for them, that would be so appreciated.

Happy Wednesday Walking!!!!

A Not Me! Monday - Lest Anyone Have the Illusion That I Have it All Together...

In the glorious spirit of Not Me Monday, I bring you this post that will hopefully make every mom out there struggling to keep it all together feel just a little less alone!

On the last week of school, my brain did NOT shut down and turn to jello when overwhelmed with the vast amounts of activities, field trips, end-of-the-year celebrations, teacher thank-yous, etc. One rainy morning, we were NOT frantically running around to get to school/work. We are NEVER frantic, always peace filled and organized. James and I were NOT having a heated discussion about his math homework, because that would absolutely NOT EVER happen. I am ALWAYS patient, calm, cool and collected.

So, it was NOT raining and James' shoes DID NOT have dirt chunks on them from the night before when he was playing outside at bible study. I was NOT running around trying to remember everything we need and get us out the door on time, while still discussing the math paper, when I grabbed the shoes to take them outside and clump off the dirt. I did NOT sit them on the freezer so that I could run back in for something that we forgot. James did NOT get into the car through our attached garage. I did not then pull out of the driveway, while still discussing said math paper. We did NOT pull into the parking lot at the school (where I also work as a one-on-one with a special needs student) with seconds to spare before my student arrived.

When I said, "Hurry up..we have to get in the building!" While I stood in the rain in the wet parking lot...Oh, no...He did not look at me and say, "Mom, what about my shoes?"

I did NOT exclaim, "What do you mean, what about my shoes?! Why wouldn't you tell me that you don't have your shoes?!!!!"

It all came back to me, and I remembered the shoes sitting on the freezer. I did NOT feel panic rising as I saw the buses coming...the bus which carried the student I work with. I had to get him off the bus. I did NOT look at my son and tell him that he would have to walk into the school in his socks...through the wet parking lot.

When we arrived at school, I did NOT then have to explain to our classroom teacher that I would have to go home after I got my student off the bus and get my son his shoes! When I returned with the shoes, James' (actually very sweet and always encouraging - really) teacher did NOT proclaim that "Never in her 33 years of teaching has a student ever come to school without shoes!" I did NOT hang my head and say that I was so glad we could be the first!

For those out there wondering if this story traumatized my son...he wasn't without his shoes for long. I actually did run home and get them as soon as my student was off the bus, and I did bring him dry socks, too! Also, God in His infinite wisdom has blessed my sweet James with one of those personalities that takes things like this in stride. He is very good at making light of things and laughing it off. He is also very well-liked by his peers...so to them this was just another funny thing James did! Boy, oh boy was it a memory!
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MORE WAYS TO HELP SUFFICIENT GRACE

Just wanted to let everyone know that my blog-friend, Holly, is having an awesome Raffle/Fundraiser over at her blog, Caring for Carleigh. For $2, you can be entered into the raffle for a beautiful opal necklace. You can enter as many times as you want through the chip-in widget on her blog. All proceeds will be donated to Sufficient Grace Ministries. Please help us spread the word about this fun way that you can get involved. Every little bit adds up! So click on over there and enter Holly's raffle for Sufficient Grace. Raffle ends June 22nd. Thanks so much Holly...you are such a beautiful, sweet mama with a beautiful amazing heart...and a dear encouraging friend.

And...don't forget about the Thirty One Fundraiser/Giveaway that Tammy is having. Click here to read more about it, and don't forget to leave a comment to be entered into our Thirty One Giveaway to win an adorable bow purse from Thirty One. Contest ends June 25th.

Why I Love Golf...And Some Random Spring Pics

O.K. you caught me...this post was originally written "in the beginning" of my blog days. But, I feel confident most of you have not read it: a. because no one was reading my blog back then and b. because most of you probably are not drawn to a post entitled "Why I Love Golf...". So I think it's safe to re-post as a Wednesday's Walk! If you are among those who do not love golf, I encourage you to read anyway. There may still be something for you! To share your sweet memories, please visit Lynette by clicking below:





The love affair began with the first ping....the beautiful sound of the club connecting with the sweet spot of the round dimpled ball. And it happened...the glorious white sphere flew up into the air and soared against the blue sky just like it was meant to do. Never mind that it took so many agonizing chunks and duffs and whiffs that resulted in the ball rolling a few feet in front of me before it happened. Never mind that I had only made the beautiful connection once out of fifty swings. Never mind that sweat was dripping down the side of my face and my arms were aching. It was too late...I was forever bound with this exhilarating, exasperating, humbling, enticing, equalizing game they call golf. That night, I stayed at the ladies' golf clinic (the one Tim had encouraged me to attend) long after everyone else left...long after blisters formed on my hands and they started bleeding. I asked for a band-aid and kept swinging.

I know what you girly-girls are thinking...ewww sweat....ewww blood! Let me tell you something...I am the queen of girly-girls. I was the girl in gym class that made the athletic boys groan with impatience when it was my turn at bat in wiffle ball. I am not one who regularly works out. I am not very coordinated and no one would ever mistake me for being athletic. The thing is, most of my life, I have avoided making attempts at sports or anything that I knew I wouldn't be particularly good at. And here's the reason...I can't stand to not master something. It's fine for me to say I wouldn't be very good at something I've never tried before...but it's another thing altogether for me to try and fail. It drives me crazy to not "be good" at something once I've tried it. I'm not competitive with others so much as myself...I want to do my best.

I know...prideful and petty though it may seem...God is using this pathetic trait of mine for good in my life. And learning to step out and try things that are not in my comfort zone is part of His plan for me. After all, our determination and perseverance comes from having high standards of excellence. And, while the Lord is often allowing me to be humbled and reminded of my imperfections and incompetencies despite my strong bent toward perfectionism...I press on.

Like so many who have fallen into the captivating clutches of the seductive game of golf, I decided to work at this game so that I could get better (or at least not completely embarrass my family on the course). And in the process, I have become utterly and completely smitten with golf.

Our entire family golfs. Tim...who incidentally is good at everything he does... a natural athlete with high standards of his own. The difference is that he is almost always able to achieve the standards with his grace and quiet, strong confidence. Timothy...who shares many of his father's athletic traits (except that he golfs and plays baseball left-handed)...he eats, sleeps and breathes golf...his attention to detail and mental focus ...his swing is beautiful, smooth and graceful and he has learned so many lessons that are applicable to life as he grows on his journey toward manhood. James...who at age seven hits the ball about the same distance as his mama...he has a natural swing, and a sweet serious, focused look in his eyes as he approaches the ball. He has learned so much on the course about patience, selflessness, waiting your turn, respecting others, self-control and being quiet (which doesn't happen anywhere else in his life...the quiet part, I mean!)



And me...sometimes I can really hit it, and most times I really CAN'T! When I can't, I'll be in the back yard until after dark trying to do it right. Does that mean I do it well? No...but I won't give up. The other important note: all of my clubs, bag, hat and accessories are pink, cute and girly...even my golf balls. Girl-style is encouraged in golf. The best part of my golf swing is my follow-through. Whatever happens in the beginning and the middle, it all seems to fall together in the end. I guess that's kind of indicative of our walk with the Lord...lots of stuff happens in between the beginning of our lives and the end. He uses all of it...the good, the bad, and the ugly...he shapes and molds, comforts and heals, forgives and cleanses, grows and strengthens us...gently making us into a new creation in Him. And because of Jesus, when the Father sees us ...we look just like we were created to be...and everything just falls into place. We are beauty from ashes to Him...we were the joy set before Jesus...His reason for enduring the cross, despite the shame. And because of Him...for those of us who have placed our trust in Jesus, our follow through...our ending is perfect and secure.

More reasons why I love golf...

1. The golf course is like land-scaping art work. It's a display of God's creation that truly, majestically honors the Creator. The different shades of green contrasting against the blue skies. The trees gently blowing in the breeze. The fluffy clouds...the rolling hills. It's breath-taking. It fills me with peace.

2.Because it's something my family loves. We can enjoy being together...learning patience, humility, integrity, and grace at the hands of this marvelous sport.

3. Golf is revealing. If you golf with someone, you can peek into the windows of that person's heart and soul. What kind of personality do they have? Do they have a temper? Are they honest? How honest? Are they thoughtful? Detail oriented? Focused or easily distracted?

4. Golf is humbling...even those who are very good at it can have a bad shot, a bad round. Behind every joyous, victorious success there are several moments of discouragement and defeat.

5. Golf is a test of will, mental strength, and perseverance. How much are you willing to endure? Can you shake off the bad shots? Can you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and try again?

6. Just when you are about to give up...just when you think your love for this game could turn to hate...it happens...that perfect ping and soaring ball. And your hope and determination are renewed. And you vow to press on in your quest, not to master but to relish the game.

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And now...some springtime fun, including a light saber battle. And James taking pictures of mommy standing beside our tree which bloomed in full this weekend.






Happy Wednesday Walking and Happy Spring!

Sweet Perfection

Well, I thought I'd just slap up some pictures on this post from last week and call it a Wednesday's Walk. And...if you have nothing better to do, and you need a good laugh...feel free to visit my 100 post as inspired by Lynette! Love to all...Have a great Wednesday!



This day was sweet perfection. It was 75 degrees and sunny without a cloud in the sky. There was the slightest breeze. And, friends, let me tell you...joy filled my heart. It has been a long, cold, gray winter. Sometimes the winter is so long, I forget that spring is coming. Then, just when I have given up all hope of seeing anything green again... Just when I sigh in surrender to the dormant state of my dreary surroundings, it happens. The miracle of spring. The renewal of life. And, hope rises from beneath the dead ashes of winter. Green leaves sprout from the earth. Tiny buds of hope speckle the trees. And like Dorothy taking her first timid steps out of the farmhouse and into the land of Oz, I marvel at the colors of life filling my senses with their glory. The red breast of the robin. The purple majesty of my tiny flowers. The fiery orange of the tiger lilies. Glorious yellow daffodils standing proudly to welcome the day. The shades of green, the lovely white spring blossoms on my trees. Oh, spring wash over me. The songs of the birds singing a melody that matches the peace in my soul...the song of spring. It has returned with the promise of new life. Joy restored. A new day. A new season. Hope rises and swells. For sweet spring has come.




After a good hour of playing and giggling in the school yard in all his boyhood glory with his second grade buddies, James and I went home, and then to run some errands. After a delightful dinner at Pizza Hut, we went home to wallow in the waning glory of this beautiful day. We enjoyed a visit from cousin Addison...a visit which included more giggling, running, and rolling in the green grass while glowing (and still giggling) with glee. Sweet goodness. Could life get any better than this?

We followed up the giggling and grass rolling with a bike ride through our small town to the airplane park where the memories intoxicated my senses. We explored the old caboose and tried to soar with the birds on the swings. I closed my eyes and remembered swinging beside my own mother. Trying to keep up. Wondering if someday my legs could stretch as far and my swing could go as high. There was more giggling and climbing, sliding and joking with the boys at the park. I looked over at the creek and remembered sitting on the bank telling stories with my childhood friend Mary while drifting through endless, carefree summers days. I was little more than eight years old myself back then. All of life was still ahead of me and filled with possiblility. It was a sweet time...a time before I knew that sometimes babies die and mothers get cancer. A time of innocence. I reminded myself that life is still full of possibilities, and not just for my children.

I still serve the same God...the One who can make anything possible. The God who parted the Red Sea and gave David victory over the giant cares for me, orders my steps, holds my next breath. Anything is possible with Him. On this day of sweet perfection, joy fills my heart. After all, spring has come. Hope abounds, and I have awakened from my winter sleep. The possiblilies are endless!

Easter Bonnets and Light Sabers

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Oh, the Easter Bonnets. The spring dresses in all shades of exquisite pastel glory. The ribbons...the lace...the pink. The accessories. The little matching purses and hairbows. The delicate patent leather shoes over ruffled tights. They are everywhere in all their Eastery-goodness. The baby girls...sigh.

Today, I put new batteries in the light saber. All boy...all the time. No bonnets and lace here. Which probably explains my desperate need to hoard all things pink. Pink golf clubs, pink skorts, pink golf balls, pink carpet - (O.K., it's "burgundy" and it was the nineties), pink nail polish, pink lip gloss, pink flip flops. But no pink Easter Bonnets.

Light Sabers and baseballs, grass stains on the jeans, and band-aids on the wounds. Golf clubs and football cards. But no Easter bonnets.

We will color the eggs and decorate them with Easter symbols. There will be more than one Easter egg hunt. We will get out the Redemption Eggs and tell the story of Jesus' death and ressurrection with tangible symbols that make it easy for children (and adults) to grasp the meaning. We will watch a cartoon video telling the Easter story on Good Friday, and will read the bible. And, I may watch The Passion, again. To remember...to reflect...on the gift of His sacrifice...the gift I could never grasp with my human mind. The gift that sets me free, redeems my sin, makes me a new creation, promises eternal life.

On Easter morning...

For James, a suit and tie because he loves a good reason to put on his suit. Such a romantic little lover boy that one. And, for Timothy...whatever he grabs...my guess, jeans and a polo. He's fifteen. We pick our battles. Some years I would buy a new Easter dress because you really can't beat a new Easter dress. But this year, in the spirit of simplification and living wisely, I'll pull out my favorite spring floral dress. And, yes...it has pink in it! Tim will probably wear a polo or button up shirt.

And, after eating candy for breakfast,(washed down with one of the overabundant hard boiled eggs taking over the refrigerator) we will leave the sweet-smelling ham covered in my brown sugar- honey mustard marinade, the cheesy potatoes, the corn casserole waiting on warm in the oven and head to church. As we tear ourselves away from the enticing smells of the Easter feast, we'll try not to trip over a putter, a light saber or a lego creation. (Or our dog Rex who always seems to stand up at the wrong time...but that's another story.)

The church will be filled with baby girls dressed in Easter dresses and bonnets (or adorable stylish little matching hats and purses). I will smile and straighten James' little clip-on tie and smooth his hair, with a contented sigh. My gaze will wander to Tim's hands folded in prayer, and Timothy's head of thick, curly hair. A head that sits taller than me. With a satisfied nod, I will allow the blessings to wash over me. And, I will thank God for the legos and the light sabers.

And we will worship together because He is Risen. Our Jesus came. He died on a cross, in our place, for the forgiveness of our sins. He rose on the third day. And He lives. He reigns.

We will rejoice...He is Risen indeed!

Bless you and yours this Easter Season...May we all make time to remember the gift of our Savior's sacrifice with a grateful heart.

Warriors and Giants

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Giants are big and scary and most of all...really loud. Lately, I have been looking at the giants in my life...watching with dread as they approach, noticing their size, hearing their loud threats. Last year, I read Max Lucado's amazing book, Facing Your Giants. It was filled with truth, encouraging, empowering, inspiring biblical truth...just like everything Max Lucado writes. He is one of my favorite authors. His gift for painting word pictures that relate to the struggles we face in this life as we seek a closer walk with Jesus, is unmatched. Last year, his words encouraged me to remember not to look at the size of the giant before me, but to look instead to size of my God, who is able and mighty...and bigger than all the giants.

But, for a moment, my eyes shifted back to the size of the giant.

My son, James, like all of us, has been facing some giants of his own lately. On a particularly difficult day of battling the looming giants, we were both feeling a little defeated. We sat down to do our nightly bible devotion. James was all snuggled in his bed, and I opened his God's Mighty Warrior Devotional Bible (by Sheila Walsh...love her).

And, I was reminded about the size of my God.

Little David, refusing to cover himself in the king's armor, went out to confront the giant who had been threatening God's people. While bigger men than he cowered in fear and the giant basically laughed him off, David says to the giant (with complete confidence!),

"You come to me using a sword, a large spear and a small spear. But I come to you in the name of the Lord of heaven's armies. He's the God of the armies of Israel! You have spoken out against him."

And do you know what happens next? Do you know???

As the giant, Goliath, came near to attack him, David ran quickly to meet him.
You know the story...David kills the giant...God gets the glory.

And me...as I read that familiar story, I melted in the arms of my Savior and smiled through tears, at the truth and peace that washed over us. We talked about the "giants" in our lives...the things that seem big or scary or difficult. And the truth that no giant standing before us will ever be as big as the God who loves us. We prayed together, and I walked away with renewed confidence. David ran to meet the giant, armed with only a stone, a slingshot, and confidence in the Lord. He didn't cower or wait, watching in dread as the giant approached. He was prepared. He trusted in the Lord, His God...and he ran out to meet the giant. Bold courage. Bold faith. Bold victory. He kept his eyes fixed on the size of his God, which incidentally made the giant look pretty small. And he was a victorious warrior.

I love all the ways God uses to speak to our hearts. There is no where we could go, where He is not able (and willing) to meet us. He will find us, and lift us to the higher Rock. Not only did God whisper His truth to my heart that night, but He planted the seeds of His truth into the heart of my little warrior. Oh...He is good.