Stuck in the Muck

I haven't written in two months. I know. Not good. Because I really love it. It's therapeutic. But I've had no desire or urge lately.

I'm stuck in the muck. 

Not stuck in a rut. That's too easy to get out of. You just lift your foot up and step out. It may take a little desire and gumption, but it's not impossible. But stuck in the muck, now that's a different story. When you think about muck, what comes to mind? I think of dark, gooey, sloppy mud. It's smelly. It's thick. Your feet literally sink into it - perhaps all the way to your ankles. You are actually stuck. Every attempt at lifting your feet out sucks you deeper and tighter. On your own, there is no way out. Pretty dismal. 

And that's where I am.

Jackson and I returned from JH Ranch different people: Conquering fears. A heart of gratitude. A soul of obedience. A mind of dependency. Godly parenting. Honoring our parents. Deepening our relationship with each other. We still talk about our experience daily and what it meant to us.

As I've mentioned before, I subscribe to Proverbs 31 daily devotions. You'd think that because they are readily available in my inbox every morning, I'd be so faithful. But to be perfectly honest, sometimes I look at them and think, "I'll read it later." Then I put it in an email folder where I save those I really find inspiring or timely. Anyway, that's where I found their "Stuck in the Muck" devotion.  You can read it here.

Boy, did that speak to me. You see, I am sooooooo stuck in the muck. And (as I journaled about this yesterday) it shows in almost every aspect of my life:

1. My weight is creeping back on. I lost 35 pounds (goal was 45) and have gained 7 back. No will-power. And that is so depressing. 

2. I am being sucked in by the unhappiness of someone close to me.

3. Teaching is stressful! And therefore, I come home emotionally exhausted every day. 

4. My solo time with God has gone down the tube - as well as Jackson's. We were so on track and held each other accountable for the two weeks following JH Ranch.   

It's funny how as I wrote this, I felt such comfort. It was a confession to God that I am stuck and can not get out alone. To quote the author of the devotion, "Does He, in His love, let us fall into a muddy puddle so we can feel the discomfort of life without Him? Isn’t it true that when we find ourselves stuck in the muck of life, we long more deeply for God’s loving arms to come and take our hands and lead us out? We cry out, "Daddy, I need You. Please pull me out of this mess!'"

So I prayed.

Lord, I need you.
Oh I need you.
Every hour I need you.
My one defense, my righteousness.
Oh God, how I need you.
I am not unhappy. Yet I am not fully joyful as I was a few short weeks ago. I know is is my own doing and my disobedience. You desire a full relationship with me, and I know that to be fully blessed, I need to be completely engaged in your word. I need your help. I thank you for the wise counsel of Godly friends. Thank you for a loving husband and sons. I also pray for them that they will continue to grow in their desire for you.

Amen

Countdown to JH Ranch

The countdown app says 10 days, 3 hours and 26 minutes. He's filled with excitement, anticipation - and a bit of the butterflies. We've known about this trip for months, been planning the travel logistics for weeks and are now finalizing our packing lists.

Jackson and I are flying across the country to northern California where we will be attending the Mother/Son Week at JH Ranch.

From their website:

The content of our programming at JH Ranch is taught primarily through the challenges of practical experiences in the great outdoors. With each purpose-driven program, our goal is to teach and model the Great Commandment: love God and love others. Through this, our guests leave JH Ranch with practical Christian principles for everyday life, not simply inspiration.

This week long gift from my parents to Jackson and me was one that grew from the intense prayer and discernment of my mother. It's been almost four years from the fatal wreck that killed my grandmother. Jackson was only nine at the time and was trapped in the car with her leg on his shoulder. The other sights and sounds he experienced those moments scarred him in ways that were not so evident to us at the time. This happy, funny thirteen-year-old has not spent a night away from his family since then. He can't do it. This athletic, cool kid can't bring himself to try new things that might challenge him or take him out of his comfort zone. It's taken this many years for him to finally admit that he might possibly have a form of PTSD. My mother was convicted by the Holy Spirit that she was to give us this week to help with his healing -  and that we were to receive it. (And how do you argue with the Holy Spirit? You don't! You are obedient!)

At first I was worried that when I showed Jackson the website, he would say no. Because there are many challenges throughout the week - and times of quiet reflection from the Biblical teaching sessions. But he didn't. He was kind of interested. Going in a trip, just the two of us to a place his brother hasn't been? That's pretty neat. In the mountains? That's cool too. And as we continued to talk over the next months, then weeks and now days, the excitement grew. Tonight, we watched a video from a week earlier this summer. It painted quite a thorough picture of all we will experience. And he could hardly contain his excitement. He is so ready!

Afterwards, we were talking about what he would want to keep in the backpack he is using as his carry-on. I mentioned his iPhone and charger, Eno, GoPro, gum - all the things I though he would be interested in. Without skipping a beat, he said, "Oh yes. And also my Bible." (How big was my internal smile?!)

I admit it. I've been so concerned about his head being open and ready for this adventure. But I now know that his heart is too. And that is where God will work in Jackson's life - and mine too. In our heads, but mainly in our hearts. We are being obedient. Our hearts are open. And we are excited with the anticipation of what great things He will do in our lives!

The Memorial Service

We walked into the beautiful church. It was smaller than mine. Then again, most churches are smaller than mine. It was also older. And more traditional. A beautiful stained glass window depicting Jesus kneeling in prayer was over the pulpit. The organ played softly. A woman greeted me warmly, handed me a funeral home fan and guided me to an empty seat in the pew. My youngest son looked around expectantly. He had never been here before. Neither had I.

It was the first time either of us had set foot in Cumberland AME Church. And had it not been for the horrific event of Wednesday, June 17, 2015, we would still be strangers to the sanctuary.

But it did happen. And I read about tonight's memorial service on Facebook. I told Jackson that we were going (my oldest son is out of town), and another friend of mine was joining us. I told him that he might not get why it was important for us to be there, but he would later.

The sanctuary was full - almost equal black and white. But I still felt a little like an outsider. Not that any of the others there caused my apprehension. At all. It was all me - because I was not affected in the same way as they were. Of course, as a South Carolinian, I was deeply saddened, horrified and pained. I cried many times over the past few days. But never had anyone in my family been murdered in cold blood because of what they looked like. What did I know about any of their experiences?

But it was important that I be there.

It was lovely and somber and appropriate. The organizers and staff of the church had made it a beautiful memorial. And then people were invited to come forward to share. And what words. What strength. What hope. The faith of these men and women of God, young and old. As their words poured out, I furiously scribbled notes on an envelope I found in my purse:

~ "We must love this young man. We must pray for him that the evil will leave him."

~ "It's not easy to understand what God does or why He lets things happen. But I know this: God will make a miracle out of this mess."

~ "Do not hate. We are all brothers and sisters."

~ "We forgive. For God forgives us every day."

~ "It is not about skin color. It's not!  It is about the evil presence that is trying to take over. But God and His love will prevail!"

~ "Let us love one another for we serve the same God."

~ "Some of my friends want to start 'packing' (a gun) when they go to church. Not me! I am going to be packing something much stronger: the Word of God!"

And finally, a woman stood up and started singing "It is Well with My Soul". The entire congregation stood up, clasped hands and joined her.

It's one thing to hear people say all these things on news reports and interviews. It's an entirely different emotion to hear it in person a few feet away. And I left feeling not as an outsider. I left feeling as a true member of God's family, as a sister in His larger community. And although we know there is such evil out there in our sinful world, I left feeling hopeful - and in a sense, emboldened and empowered by my time with my brothers and sisters.

Good Kids

Yesterday was the Aiken Steeplechase. We decked ourselves in our brightest togs and hats and celebrated a beautiful day of horse racing. Under our tent, we sat sipping cocktails and eating delicious food. We bet on the horses and had a marvelous time. 

My husband and I 

Our teenage children checked in every once in a while and then went off to visit friends and "see and be seen". Sumter spent most of the day at the Young Life spot, so I was only able to catch Jackson for a picture.

We are lucky. Our kids don't drink.

I say this because social events such as Steeplechase are havens for pretty girls in Lilly dresses and boys in seersucker pants and Vineyard Vines ties to get completely fall down drunk. Most of these are college students, but you may see a high schooler as well. And it's never really bothered me as much as it did this year. I guess it's because we - and all our friends - have teenagers.

But by the end of the afternoon, we saw a precious girl trip and fall down on the ground.  She just lay there for a few seconds until one of the boys she was with pulled her up.  We saw a young man with an almost empty handle of Jack Daniels just standing there, staring off in space. Later, another girl saw her date storm off and immediately burst into tears. She stumbled around with her girlfriends as if lost.

And this year also provided us with an event we have never experienced before. Towards the end of the day, our pastor and his family stopped by to visit us. It was not ten minutes later, and not fifty feet away, that we saw around ten uniformed police and sheriff deputies bust up a party and arrest seven people. It was quite a spectacle. Some of them were underage, some legal - but all were incredibly drunk and physically confrontational.

We all stood, watching and commenting among ourselves at the stupidity and blatantly belligerent behavior. And then, our pastor said something that - at the time - I thought was almost a little too saccarine and optimistic.  He said, "How sad. They're good kids." I looked at him next to me and smiled at his kind remark. But what I was really thinking was, "Really??? No, they're not. Our kids are good kids. Those guys are punks with no respect for themselves or anyone else."

It was not until today at church that I got a deeper understanding of what he meant. I don't know whether it was the songs we sang, his message, or God's voice. But I was drawn back to what our pastor had said the day before: "They're good kids." Maybe not to me. But they are to God. Because He created them. He brought them into life. He loves them. And we know that God loves what is good.

So it was then and there that I prayed for those who were loaded into those paddy wagons the day before. I prayed for His precious children who I don't even know. I prayed that if they didn't know God, that they would open their hearts to Him. I prayed that if they did know God, they would come to Him and listen to Him lovingly tell them to turn away from behavior that could destroy them.

Because just like you and me, they're good kids. They're God's kids.

Failure to Submit

Just this afternoon, I was reading Finding Hope in the Mess, a blog by Brooke McGlothlin. She began: "Do you struggle to control your emotions? Ever feel like they're doing a better job of controlling you?" As a mom of boys, she spoke of how she just loses it sometimes when the circumstances (in other words: her sons) overwhelm her (in other words: make her mad as hell). She also wisely pointed out that like her, "there are millions of moms who need help submitting their emotions to God.  They're in an unforgiving cycle, and need to get out."

I was actually reading this while waiting for my Starbucks Skinny Grande Whatever-it's-called. I had just finished my hour long expedition through the grocery store and needed a little treat. How insightful this Brooke was. How wise. And how true. We've all been there. Once... or more.

And then I arrived home. Drained. With about fifteen bags of groceries. To a son who had been playing basketball and/or his xbox for most of the day. And "did not hear" me when I called out for his help to unload the SUV. But proceeded to complain and argue why he had to carry most of the bags. Because he was too tired. And he had to make three trips. And these bags are horrible. And there are too many bags. And why wasn't I helping him?

And right then and there, I FAILED to submit my emotions to God. Instead, I owned them and exploited them. I yelled. I screamed. I said quite a few choice words. I got in my thirteen-year-old's face. And then made him go somewhere else in the house because I couldn't even be in the same room with him.

I thought I would have felt so empowered. So much better. So vindicated.

But I didn't. 

For although my anger was justified, I was disheartened by how I reacted. I had been consumed with unrighteous anger, not righteous. I was not using my anger to teach, train and reprimand my son. I was using it in a scathing, vindictive and sarcastic manner. 

My son came in about twenty minutes later. He apologized for what he said and did and talked about how he knows how much I do for the family. It was from the heart and of course I accepted it.

I wish I could say I also apologized. But I didn't. (I still had just enough pride and stubbornness to tell me that I had every right to have been angry.) I will - both to my son and God.  Because I have been given the gift and privilege of being a mother.  And moreover, I am called to be a Godly mother. One who submits those hurtful and caustic emotions to One who is bigger... so much bigger. And both my sons deserve that.

"God, help me when I am so frustrated and overwhelmed with my emotions. Convict me to release and submit my UNRIGHTEOUS anger. Instead, fill me with Your Holy Spirit and place on my heart a calmness and gentleness that is only from You. Amen"

Being Brave and Saying "No"... It's OK

Sometimes the hardest and bravest thing you can do is say "no". Especially when it is something you feel will serve and honor God. Especially when you feel it is something you've been called to do. We all feel that when we are called to serve Him - we must not say no. 

I have dear friend in my "Prayer Ninjas" group. She is an absolute superwoman who not only has a husband and four children to manage, but a part-time job at her church as the Mother's Morning Out Director. Last week, she texted the other five of us the following:

"I need some ninja guidance. I have been offered a full time  job as Program Director for Children's Ministries at church -- Sunday school, baptisms, Nurturing Center, children's chapels, vacation bible school, some retreat coordination and who knows what else. I'd be working Sunday mornings, clearly and then four weekdays. I'm struggling. Idk if I can handle all that AND run my house. But it would be really helpful financially and I love working at the church. I worry about the Sunday gig interfering with visiting "oldest daughter" in college and other weekend stuff. I'd have to give up tennis (which is on its way out the door anyway from work this year). But it is an outlet for me. Anywho, too much for a text, but WWPND???"

Each one of us offered words of encouragement and prayed for discernment. We suggested she make lists of pros and cons. Was there a Godly woman she could talk with? Would she feel passion with this new position? A purpose? A peace?

Today she let us know that she has decided not to accept the position. She said "no". And I'm so proud of her. Some other extended family issues have arisen and she realizes that she is needed there. That being said, she still feels some guilt that she's not able to "do it all."

How hard that must have been. I had a similar situation last year where, after vacillating back and forth, I had to defer and not accept a call to serve. Although I had initially not felt a peace or surety about the position, I still felt that I let God down. I felt that I was not walking the Christian walk. I felt I was not glorifying God and His kingdom. I felt selfish. 

But I learned that there was a reason I was not even aware of at the time: my husband was going to be admitted to the hospital and then have a very long recuperation. In some ways, he's still not (and may never be) where he was before. There was no way I could have served God and His kingdom the way I should have. And like my friend, I still felt a little guilty.

But in the midst of my searching for what I felt I should do, I now realize God was saying, "Its ok. Trust me. Take care of yourself and those you love right now. Today, in those private, precious moments, that is where you can serve and glorify Me. Don't feel that you have to do everything for Me. I'll be fine. For I am sovereign. I am mighty. I am powerful. I am your Father who loves you and always will."

And it's ok to say no...

Golden

Thank you. Thank you and you and you. I've had comments here and on my Facebook page and in emails. And most of them have resonated the same theme. That YOU have felt the same way. That YOU could have written that particular post. Had I crawled inside YOUR heart or mind? 

I'm just writing what's on my heart. What inspires me, perplexes me - or what causes me to just curl up in a ball. As I've said before, I get most of my thinking and reflecting done in the early morning. It's when the house is quiet and I'm the only one awake. And... I'm in the shower.

It was there that I was thinking about my blog and its name: "It's a Golden Day". A dear friend remembers me in college walking up to all our friends and greeting them with those words. They still say it to me with affection. Should I change it?

Happy, favorable, promising, beautiful. These are words often associated with the word GOLDEN. But that's the finished product. That's when it's all shiny and polished and refined. What about before? Gold is mined from deep in the ground. It's hidden, and then chiseled out. It's covered with dirt and dust. It's rough. It's raw.

And that's where I feel I am sometimes: in the just mined stage. What I write is honest and real. Because I am honest and real. I don't have to be that final, shiny, buffed, perfect, photoshopped, perma-grinned, Pinterest-ified woman. I'm tired of that - aren't you? I want to celebrate the fact that my laundry room is not organized with chalk board labels on wicker baskets, but mountains of laundry. I want to not be ashamed that my family didn't eat organic, whole foods for supper tonight, but Zaxbys. I want shout it from the rooftops that the last few times I had to bring an appetizer, I didn't create something homemade, but brought blue chips and salsa. I want to own the fact that I had my "get though the day without punching something" meds prescription upped. And all these things are ok, damn it. 

But there are some other words that are also associated with GOLDEN, and those are the ones I want to claim. The first is wisdom. I love the fact that with age, comes wisdom. Hence, the term "the golden years". With forty-five years of experiences, from the truly wonderful to the deeply painful, I would hope that I am growing wiser!  The second is valuable. You may know this verse: "Lord, You are more precious than silver. Lord, You are more costly than gold. Lord, You are more beautiful than diamonds, And nothing I desire compares to You." No doubt I agree completely with this. But I also know that God feels the same way about me. He values me in all of my weakness. In the state I am in daily: dirty, rough, and raw. I AM valuable. I AM golden.

So I think I will keep the name. It fits. And I like what "It's a Golden Day" symbolizes to me right now.

He's Bigger than a Christmas Present

The stockings are hung, the tree is decorated (and quite stunning, if I do say so myself), and the nativity scene sits prominently on the wine chest. All the presents are wrapped. Well, almost all of them. Only one left to wrap. Only one. My son's BIG Christmas gift. And it is nowhere to be found.

Oh, I ordered it. Two months ago. And it arrived. One month ago. I took it off the front porch. I marveled at how heavy it was for such a small package. I noticed how much packing tape was wrapped around the box. I carried it into the study. I put it in the closet with the other gifts. At least I THINK I did.

And now it is gone. I have looked in every drawer. In every closet. On every shelf. But it's gone. Yesterday, I felt physically ill. I broke into a sweat. I even asked both boys if they had seen the package. My husband suggested I sleep on it and wake up fresh. And guess what? I dreamed about it.

This morning, I started over. Still missing. So I continued to look - and pray. Consumed with anxiety and worry, I even posted a plea on Facebook:

"Friends ~ I can't find on the of the boys' MAJOR Christmas present. I remember bringing in the package from the front porch and can tell you what it looked like (smaller than a shoebox) and the weight (like a brick). But now I am beside myself with worry... Any prayers are greatly appreciated."

And it was shortly after that it hit me. I can not handle this. For some unknown reason, it's just too big for me and I feel overpowered. I have to release it. I HAVE to release it. I just have to release it - and let God handle it. Because it's too big for me. But not too big for Him. He created the whole universe. He saved my husband's life when he was on the brink. He protects my children every day from the evils around us. He saved our lives from the darkness of sin. He is so much bigger than a lost Christmas present.

And so I am ok. I still don't know where Sumter's double bass drum pedal is. (Don't worry. He never reads my blog.) But I am ok, because I know that it is being handled. Because God is just that big. And I am trusting in His taking care of the situation.

Maybe not with the outcome I desire - but maybe!

Giving Thanks - Part 2

As I began and continued writing this blog three years ago, I only measured how much it was being read by the comments that were posted. And oh, how my self-worth as a blogger was dependent on those comments. I was much like the teenage girls who check to see how many "likes" or followers they have on Instagram. It was only a week ago (yes, I am slow) that I discovered the Blogger Stats page on my dashboard. Oh, there are the real numbers. Well then.

And it was on that stats page that I realized more and more people are reading my Giving Thanks - Part 1 post. That was my very last post in 2011 - with no Part 2! I had promised to tell of "...how God's hand was such a part of those few days from October 4th through the 7th. Days that could possibly only be described by someone as a nightmare. Yet there were so many glimpses of His presence, His Holy Spirit moving among us, His unexpected - and unexplained - gifts and blessing."

And I fell short and broke my promise. (Now this post is pretty graphic, but I feel it needs to be told so that you can understand the magnitude of how I feel the glimpses of God were so evident.)

After my father-in-law's funeral on October 7, 2011, my parents, grandmother and two sons left for my parents' home a little over an hour away. My husband and I waved goodbye and went back to his mother's to decompress. Around an hour later, we received a call from my brother-in-law that there had been a terrible one-car accident. A tire had blown and my parents' SUV had flipped three times.

Herein lies the first blessing.  My sister and brother-in-law had left the funeral before my parents. They stopped at a convenience store and, therefore, ended up behind them and drove up on the wreck site. They were the first on the scene. Somehow, Sumter was able to get out of his seatbelt and crawl out of one of the broken windows. They saw him standing on the side of the interstate beside the overturned SUV. My sister was immediately able to comfort Sumter as well as assess the situation. (She works as a physical therapist in the trauma unit.). Do I believe God had a hand in them being the first on the scene? Absolutely, I do.

But no such luck for Jackson. He was still trapped inside, eyes squeezed shut to block out the blood-soaked view of my mother, but not the sound of the moans of both my parents. My grandmother was halfway thrown from the vehicle and her leg was on his shoulder. His seatbelt was stuck and he couldn't get out.

But herein lies the second blessing.  Jackson tells us that he didn't get out by himself. He says an African-American man with dreadlocks and a Yankees baseball cap came up to the SUV and asked, "Hey, buddy. Can you get out?" (This was a man he says he saw just moments before the accident in a green car. He says the man smiled and waved to him as he drove by.) Jackson told him that he couldn't. The man got box cutters, cut the seatbelt and helped him climb out. Jackson swears this happened. He can describe the man and his voice. But no one else saw or talked to this man. We've asked my sister and brother-in-law. We've asked other witnesses. We've asked the highway patrol. We've even seen photos. There were no African-Americans in any of the photographs. No green car anywhere near the site. That's crazy, we thought. This was a wreck that made the AP news wire and was even on the evening news in other parts of the country. This was a wreck that held up traffic for many miles and hours. No one just leaves the scene of a wreck of that magnitude. No one... but an angel. And we hold on to that truth. Do I believe God had a hand in that deadlocked angel in a Yankees cap? Absolutely, I do.

Both of my parents were airlifted to the trauma center where my sister works. Sumter and Jackson were both banged up pretty badly and were taken to the same hospital, but they were ok. I found this out from my brother-in-law's phone call. But as many times I asked, he wouldn't say anything about my grandmother. I don't know whether it was because he didn't want to tell me on the phone or because he alone had just witnessed her last moments alive.

And herein lies the last blessing I will share. My sweet Muz was not wearing a seatbelt and was thrown halfway out of the SUV. I still don't know all of the details of how she was found by my brother-in-law in relation to the vehicle. I'm not sure I want to know. What I do know is that she was pinned. She was breathing. Her eyes were closed. Her body was in shock. But her last moments were with my brother-in-law holding her head and praying over her. And then she died.  How beautiful is that? After something so violent and sudden, to have your granddaughter's husband, a Godly, faithful man who loves you and you love back, usher you out of your life on here on earth to your eternal life in heaven. Do I believe God had a hand in that?  Absolutely, I do.

So there they are. The glimpses of God and His involvement in even the most tragic circumstances in our lives. The reminders that He is in control. The promises that He will bless even the most painfuland incomprehensible times. And for these I am grateful.

Be the Reason

Have you ever taken one of those quizzes on Facebook? Don't lie, you know you have. Well earlier today, I took "What Your Life Motto Should Be". So after taking the quiz and thinking my answer was so cliche, I took it again with my second choice answers. I then took it for the third time with some of the same answers as the first time and some of the answers from the second time. My (so-called) life motto was always the same: Be the reason someone smiles today. Vomit.

I saw the comments from other people with their results. Theirs were so much more real and authentic. I wanted theirs. Theirs were "If you can dream it, you can achieve it" and "When writing the story of your life, don't let anyone else hold the pen for you" and "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain".

Again, here is what my life motto should be according to the all-knowing creator of aforementioned Facebook quiz:

"Be the reason someone smiles today" - Don't forget to spread some of your happiness around. You are lucky, you have a lot of great things going on in your life to be thankful for, and a lot of light within you that you can share with others...

And again, vomit. Bleh, bleh, bleh. Whoever created this Pulitzer Prize winning quiz does not have a clue. Because we are going through some rough times right now. My husband is still not 100% since his "gall bladder explosion" back in February (if you have no idea what I am talking about, click here), and the closing of Tea Garden Gifts has certainly taken its toll. Life is not all golden. I worry a lot. And I grow weary. I get tired and anxious. I cry.

And then HE reminds me - again. (Because I forget over and over and over and over) HE whispers to me, "My precious, precious child. Times are rough right now. You do have a lot on your plate. It's does look dark. But you do have a light inside of you: ME. I am the Light that shines in your darkness. In your worry. In your anxiety. I am the Lion, who will mightily overcome, and the Lamb, who will gently guide you." Wow.

And then I remember HIS promise to me:
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5

And I guess as long as I can remember that, I can be the reason someone smiles today.

Please, I Need You, Sweet Friends...

This is not the post I was planning on writing. Thursday was the boy's last day of school; mine was Friday. I had found all these cute photos from pinterest and tumbler. I was going to write about the excitement of SUMMERTIME. However, this is how we are feeling right now.We are reaching and pleading for your prayers.

Yesterday, a mass was found on my father-in-law's brain. It's on the left frontal lobe. For the past few weeks, he has had a continuous headache, some days pretty unbearable. However, he never complained. We didn't know. We all - even the boys - began noticing that he was not himself: very quiet, a bit depressed, slow to tasks, etc. But again, we had no idea of the pain. On Tuesday, my mother-in-law took him to the doctor where the ugly truth began to reveal itself. And as the location of the tumor affects the personality and all the other symptoms we noticed, it all started to make sense.

He was admitted to the hospital on Thursday. The surgery is on Monday. Only then will we know if the tumor is benign or cancerous.

Please pray... We know God is completely in control, but we still covet your prayers. My sweet friend, Aundrea, sent me this:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
Romans 12:12
Thank you, sweet friends...

Godly Mothering... A Few Thoughts

Some of you read my my lamentations from Saturday, and some you left sweet messages.  Thank you!  Writing the word "lamentations" takes me straight to the Book where that title can be found.

I keep scraps of paper and notes from sermons and teachings in the drawer beside my bed where I also keep my Bible.  This morning I was cleaning out the junk that accumulates and came upon an envelope covered with notes about being a Godly Mother.  (Perhaps it was from a Mother's Day sermon???)  Ok God... I'm listening.  And what I read completely made sense given the day I had.

Saturday evening, Mike and I held a "family meeting" with the boys (remember those???).   I told them how disappointed I had been by their behavior.  I scolded.  I corrected.  Earlier that day, I spanked the younger one and embarrassed the older one in front of his friend.  All in all, I had been an ogre of a mother... not that they didn't deserve it!

But the amazing thing is that after that... and after all the other times we as mothers chastise, scold, correct, and punish, my children came back to me.  Our children always come back to us.  They bury their sweet faces in our laps.  They hug our legs.  They beg us to tuck them in and tell them that we love them.

And I ask WHY?  

I try to be a Godly mother.  I pray for my children.  I pray for Godly friends. I pray for their physical, emotional, and spiritual protection.

But the role of a Godly mother is more.  She is protective.  She is supportive.  She is devoted.  She is instructive.  And most of all, she is there to prepare her children for their own Godliness.  God knows (no pun intended) it's hard.  He knows sometimes we just want to give it all up.  But I think that is why He puts that sweet desire and passionate love a child has for his or her mom.  Our children want us back and are saying in so many words that they crave the Godly mother.  God put that desire as part of His plan.  His plan for all of His children:  moms and kids alike.

... vs. What We Were Led to Believe

It's been a pretty hard week at Chez Bevy and I have not been really in the mood at all for blogging.  The only thing I have even been able to think about is how J was cut from his football team.  I am so mad and have quietly cried (without him knowing it) for the past few days.  Because J's birthday was three days before the cut off date, he was not able to play on the team with his peers.  He had to tryout for the older division with boys both older (some by two years), bigger, and more skilled than he is.  This "pee wee" football division has not had tryouts before and decided to this year.  (Tears are even forming in my eyes as I write this - I am so upset.)

I get competition. I get it.  I really do.  But I also get the fact that sportsmanship, team/player loyalty, and concern for the whole child was the primary vision for the organization - last year.  At least that is what we were led to believe.  I see now that winning is the primary vision.  I just sent the administrator a respectful and polite email telling him how my husband and I feel.  We are not trying to get J back on the team.  Right now I would rather have my eyeballs plucked out really don't want him to be a part of it.

Earlier last week and at his request, J and I prayed about the tryouts and asked for God's direction and what HE wanted.  My wonderful husband pointed this out after we got the devastating news:  maybe it was a blessing, and that playing football is not in God's plan for J this year.  I have to keep that in mind...

On the up side, J has taken up golf this summer and wants a new golf bag for his birthday next month... I think God must be a golf fan!

Sterling Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

No, I do not have a sterling silver teapot in my kitchen.  However, I came across The Lady in the Stone House by Tami when I was reading and leaving comments on sweet Eloise's blog.  Please lift Eloise's precious daughter, Vivian, in prayer.  She is extremely ill and in the PICU in their local hospital.

I do not know Tami.  However, what she wrote spoke volumes to me.  I hope you will take to heart this story.  Eloise is in the fire. And as I write this, I have many other friends who are in the fire. As Tami wrote, "Everyone has something, sometime when they have been in the fire. It's how you come out of the fire that matters."


Malachi 3:3 says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver"


This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God.

One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver.

As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were the hottest as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined.

The man answered yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?"

He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy - when I see my image in it."

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has his eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.

An Email Worth Forwarding... and Reading

OK... so I am not a big fan of email forwards:  sappy, smarmy, or political.  Normally I delete without even looking at them.  But for some reason I didn't today.  It was from my dear friend from college, Elizabeth.  I read it.  I thought of my children (and husband)... and I wept.  Even though it's a bit long, I wanted to share it with you...

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?'"

The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."

Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?"

The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university."
 

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son.. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.... "Would you like a lock of his hair?" the nurse asked.. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally..

The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for study. He said it might help somebody else. I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.' " She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could." 

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them.. She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke… Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

Dear Mom,
I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.

Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool.. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures.. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him... Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important.. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything.. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for r me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him: "Where was He when I needed him?"  God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children...

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone... I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore, and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

Golden Day Blessings...

Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

I have this to the right of my cooktop on my island in my kitchen. (I'll show you the one I have on the other side another day...)  As I make pancakes every morning for the boys, I am blessed by this message from Lamentations.  It reminds me that every single day, God grants us grace and mercy over and over... and over and over.  What an amazing promise to start the day with!

Two Pictures, One Message

This past Monday, I had the opportunity to visit my mother for a fun lunch and an afternoon of shopping - just the two of us.  She lives around an hour away, so this was a quite a treat!  After a yummy lunch at Travinia's we hit the shops.  One store we visited was a favorite kitchen shop, Mary and Martha's.  There, I was able to make some wonderful purchases, including this beautiful and inspirational canvas I have hung over the double doors to the pantry that holds our food and other kitchen necessities.

That was going to be the end of my blog were it not for another piece of art I saw today:  a photograph that conveyed yet another message of God's greatness and goodness.  Kiki was pulled out alive from the rubble in Haiti after almost eight days.  Reaching out for him is his mother.

For God IS Great and God IS Good!

Everyone Needs a Little Happiness Handbook

HAPPINESS HANDBOOK for 2010

Health:
1.       Drink plenty of water.
2.       Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and 

           dinner like a beggar.
3.       Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and 

           eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
4.       Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy.
5.       Make time to pray.
6.       Play more games.
7.       Read more books than you did in 2009 .
8.       Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.
9.       Sleep for 7 hours.
10.    Take a 10-30 minutes walk daily. And while you walk, smile.

Personality:
11.    Don't compare your life to others. 

          You have no idea what their journey is all about.
12.    Don't have negative thoughts on things you cannot control. 

          Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
13.    Don't over do. Keep your limits.
14.    Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
15.    Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.
16.    Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need..
17.    Forget issues of the past. 

           Don't remind your husband with his mistakes of the past. 

           That will ruin your present happiness.
18.    Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. 
          Don't hate others.
19.    Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
20.    No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
21.    Smile and laugh more.
22.    You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree...

Society:
23.    Call your family often.
24.    Each day give something good to others.
25.    Forgive everyone for everything.
26.    Spend time w/ people over the age of 70 and
           under the age of  6.
27.    Try to make at least three people smile each day.
28.    What other people think of you is none of your business.
29.    Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. 

           Your friends will. Stay in touch.

Life:
30.    Do the right thing!
31.    Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
32.    However good or bad a situation is, it will change..
33.    No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
34.    When you awake alive in the morning, thank GOD for it.
35.    Remember that GOD heals EVERYTHING.