Feeling Mighty Tiny

I have decided that if I ever get to feeling too big for my britches, I should just go stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon.  It is impossible to explain to someone who has never seen it, just how big it is.  Carved out by a mighty river thousands of years ago it is a wonder to behold.  I first experienced it as a 12 year old girl.  I don't think at that age I truly appreciated it but I do know that I never forgot it.  Quiet simply, it is unforgettable.

Last week Gary and I had the pleasure of taking Lauren, Lindsay and Emily to see it.  Gary had never seen it either so it was an exciting experience for him as well.  We drove from the 100 plus degree heat of the airport in Phoenix up to Flagstaff, Arizona to spend the night.  It was pleasantly cooler there among the pines and the thunderstorms were refreshing.  The lobby of the hotel the next morning was full of bikers and hikers.  Everyone was dressed up in their trekking gear and ready to explore the beauty of this unique area.  We set out for the South Rim of the canyon in our Crown Victoria
 rent a car that we dubbed the "family truckster" in honor of the movie "Vacation".  

Emily, Donna, Lauren, Lindsay, Gary at the Grand Canyon

We decided as we neared the canyon that we would go all out and take a helicopter ride so that we could really experience the vastness of it all.  After reserving a spot we drove on up to the canyon first, and in true "Chevy Chase" style and staying true to the movie, we walked down to the edge, shot a few pictures, stared in awe and then headed back to the car, uh I mean truckster.  Unfortunately we had been greeted by some menacing bugs. Around here we call them noseeums.  (no-see-um)  If you have never experienced the unpleasant sting of hundreds of invisible bugs all over your body, you can't fully appreciate our desire to hurry and escape the little devils.  We piled back into the car and hurried off to catch our chopper.

The helicopter ride was incredible.  The girls had never been up in one before and Lauren was a bit apprehensive before we took off.  I think she was mostly worried about crashing 3 weeks before her wedding day.  Thankfully her worries were unfounded and she will still be able to wear that beautiful white wedding dress.  As we boarded and put on our earphones, we were greeted by the voice of Frank Sinatra singing "Come Fly with Me".  It took about 5 minutes to get to the edge of the canyon and the rush as we burst over the edge and the earth seemed to fall away was thrilling.   Emily road shotgun to the pilot while the rest of us were in the back.  Through the headsets we were given a narration about the Grand Canyon and some if its history.   As we flew over some brave river rafters that looked like yellow ants on a chocolate ribbon I couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like to live there as an indian.  It's a rugged terrain and life must have been very hard for them. The flight was too short but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  If you every get the chance to experience the Grand Canyon from a helicopter, I highly recommend it.

As you can see from the pictures below, in the GRAND scheme of things we are very small.  The canyon was a good reminder to me of that fact but I don't really have to go all the way to the Grand Canyon to feel tiny.  I can simply step outside any night and gaze up into the big ole West Texas sky and marvel at how REALLY tiny I am in the universe.  Big or small, God made it all.  What a joy it is to be even a small part of it.

Hard to imaging that this goes on for nearly 300 miles.  It was a bit hazy this morning. 

From the top of the rim the river looks even smaller.  We were down in the canyon a little ways and I was using a zoom lens which makes this photo a bit deceptive.  It is over a mile deep and 277 miles long.  On average it is 10 miles across and 18 miles across at its widest point.

The Grand Canyon is one of the seven natural wonders of the world and the only one of the seven that I have seen personally.  How many have you seen, what were they and would you recommend seeing them?   

Coming Fast and Passing Slow

Life sometimes takes us by storm.  It blows in on us like the West Texas sandstorm that barraged us this week with 60 mph winds that ripped off roofs, downed lines and trees and covered highways and houses (yes houses) with blowing tumbleweeds.  It often leaves behind a mess to deal with just like my garage that was full of leaves that blew in and sand that made its way into every window and door of our home.  I swept up the leaves, vacuumed up the dirt and washed the car.  While the dust is still settling from that storm I know that as we enter the month of March, there is a promise of more wind on the horizon.  Very soon I will need to once again, sweep up the leaves, wash the car and vacuum up the dust and dirt.  It's just what we do around here this time of year.  What takes nature minutes to do, takes us days to clean up.  I find that life is a lot like that lately.  It comes too fast and it passes too slow.

"Mom, I'm pregnant."  In the time it took to Melanie to breathe those words out, life as I knew it changed.  My thoughts raced ahead as I chased after them futilely trying to just be in the moment.  Sometimes the words "do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself", totally escape my mind.  I start trying to solve all the problems before they even take form.  The information of new life on the way came at me fast but the 9 months it actually takes that life to arrive is SO slow.

"May I marry your daughter?"  That one question took Thomas mere seconds to ask but once again life as I knew it has changed.  Thomas and Lauren will be marrying in what we consider a relatively short amount of time to plan a wedding.  After the proposal we shifted into an unknown gear that I'm sure is only available on the space shuttle.  Securing the church, the reception venue, and the date became an urgent task.  The dress is ordered and as it turns out in the nick of time.  We've viewed wedding invitations and discussed music.  We've worked on menus, talked to photographers and discussed  flowers and decorations.  It's an exciting time but I know that once the initial flurry slows it will pass slow as we wait for the day.

Dad has cancer.  Oh no!  Not the "C" word again.  Our lives were rocked 14 years ago with my diagnosis.  Hearing those words sort of makes everything shift into slow motion.  If you've ever walked that path you know exactly what I mean.  You wait for the diagnosis, you wait for the next appointment, you wait for the next test, you wait for surgery, you wait for the sickness to subside, you wait to feel better, you wait, and wait and wait.  Your life changes in an instant.  Gary's dad's news came at us fast but the treatment and recovery will pass slow for us all.

Yes, life comes at us fast.  Sometimes it brings joy and excitement and sometimes it brings anxiety and fear of the unknown.  I am thankful that I walk by faith and not by sight.  I am thankful that God goes before us and will never leave us nor forsake us.  I am thankful for a God who sees me and loves me and will tend to my every need.  I'm thankful that I have the courage to face tomorrow because my savior lives!  Let the storm howl and the dust choke out the sunlight.  Let the moments that change my life flash with the speed of lightening and rage with untold fury.  Let each day tick by slowly as I seek His will and sweep away the doubt and fear.  Come at me fast and pass slow.  With dust pan in hand, I'm standing on the ROCK!

I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.  

                                                                                                                               Psalm 16:8

My inspiration and loves!

Lauren Elizabeth, Crystal, Lindsay, Emily, Melanie, Lauren Beth

Listen

Anyone with children can tell you that there are those moments that just completely exasperate you.
Questions like, "Did you pick up your room like I asked you to do?", "Did you brush your teeth?" and
"Where are your shoes that I asked you three times to put on?" are met with a roll of the eyes or an, "I forgot.", or the ever popular, "I didn't hear you.".   How about when they not only roll their eyes but also stomp off grumbling.  You stand there looking at them wondering why they can't just listen and obey.  What is it that makes them just tune you out?

When Melanie was young I was at my wits end.  She never listened to me.  She required numerous requests to get her to do even the smallest of tasks.  She was such a cute and happy little girl but she never paid attention to anything I said.  After her older sister Crystal was diagnosed with dyslexia, I worried that Melanie may also have it.  She was having some problems in PreK completing tasks.  Dreading what they would find, I courageously had Melanie tested.  I wasn't sure I was up to the extra stress and tears of another child with a learning disability.  She was diagnosed with "audio discrepancy".  This is a big name for what is the inability to focus on more than one task at a time.  She was unable to process more than one request and if she was watching TV or engaged in something else I could just forget about her hearing anything I said.  That's right moms and dads, there is actually a name for some of those annoyingly disobedient brats, uhmmm I mean precious little children who never seem to obey the first time.  So after some therapy to retrain her processing and for me to learn how to make my requests so they were heard and understood my wits were saved.

Now, snap forward with me to present day.  The tables have turned and now it's me driving someone close to their wits end.
"What do you mean we are going out of town this week?!"
"You have a meeting tonight?"
"We have dinner plans tomorrow?" I spout out my questions with astonished tone and disbelief.  My questions are met with the same answers once again from my oh so patient and loving husband.
"Honey, I told you that."
"Yes, we discussed it."
"You know you never listen to me."
I would like to claim that I have audio discrepancy myself but I'm not sure he would buy it.  Do you think you can get it when you are an adult?  No, I must sadly concede to the fact that I just do not pay attention sometimes when he is talking to me.  Yes, poor Gary is quiet witless now thanks to me.

It's not that I don't want to listen to him.  I do hear him but I just don't really listen to all that he has to say.  Frankly, he goes into WAY too much detail sometimes for me.  For instance, I ask, "How was your golf game today Babe?"  He answers eager to share ALL about it, "On hole one I shot a par.  On hole two I hit my driver a little left and out about 20 yards from the green.  Chipped that up with my wedge and then putted in for a birdie.  I was out of bounds on hole 6 but managed to save par." And so it goes for most of the 18 holes.  How does he remember all those details?  Good grief, I just wanted to know what his blooming score was.  Spare me all the intricate details please.  All I really "listen" to is the final score most of the time anyway.

Sadly I often find my relationship with God to be the same.  I know His voice.  I want to listen.  I really, really do.  I want to know what He expects from me and what His next plan for me is.  Some days I find myself a bit too busy with my own agenda and what I am already doing than to really be still and listen to what He has planned for me.  Somedays I hear him but I'm not really listening to the details.  Thankfully, like Gary, God is very patient with me and my inattentive ways.  He loves me more than I can begin to imagine.  He keeps pressing in with the details of my life regardless of my need for a hearing aid.  He longs to lead me through every day if I will listen and obey. He longs to do for me more than I can ever hope or imagine.

So forgive me Father for our one-sided conversations and please help me to be a more attentive listener!
Oh, and if you would be so kind as to help me later today while I listen to Gary's details of today's golf game, well, that would be great!  Amen

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me."  John 10:27

Cousins

It's been over a year since we have wanted to do a cute picture of all 7 of the grandkids. This week we finally got the opportunity.  After celebrating my oldest daughter Crystal's birthday, we headed to the park.  Looking back now it might have been a better idea to wait and have the cake and ice cream after the photo shoot.  Fully loaded with sugar from the sweets we set out in 3 separate cars.  (It takes a lot of carseats to get all those kids everywhere.)  We arrived at our destination with smiles on our faces and thankful for overcast skies and a nice cool breeze.  This was going to be great!  


My photographer daughter Lauren gets everyone set with the help of her sister Crystal and the camera starts it's rapid fire of clicks trying to catch that just right moment.  I amused myself by taking pictures of my own of all the action.  That's right, I was of little help with the actual true photos.  When you are the grandmommy you get to do the fun stuff and leave all the fussing to the parents.

First pose baby Lauchlan decides to grab Annalee's hair.  Anna happens to be our most sensitive headed child but no tears since it was baby Lauchlan who dealt the injury.
We didn't last long here before it was time to move on.  Once released from the pose they all took off in separate
directions and immediately thought the photo session was over and it was time to play.  


After a few choice threats by the photographer, they regrouped and moved on to the next pose area.  Mckinlee whines because she has sand in her sandals but I quickly brushed it out and that crisis was over.  It took some compromise on who would hold the baby and who got to sit in the chair or on the ladder but we were still all smiling.  Yippee!

Deuce had a little trouble holding up his letter in this pose.  He likes to play and he loves his cousin Mikey.  It didn't take long for everyone to start complaining in this area.  Seemed that all that sugar made them very sweet and therefore extremely tasty to some bugs.  We are a little itchy at this point but we are still somewhat happy.  I think we might can get in a few more shots before the sun sets if everyone cooperates.  We gather up and head to a less buggy area.

All moved and reset and Miss McKinlee has had about all this picture taking stuff she wants.  Nothing will do, she is just not going to smile.  Mikey clasps his head in disbelief that we have to wait for someone to smile.  













Grandmommy decides maybe it's time for us  to make a silly face picture.  This gives us a little time to cheer up and possibly smile for just a few more shots.  Tanner is too cool to make a face for us of course and Kambri is just trying to hold a pose and a baby.










Looks as though one of those bugs flew up Deuce's nose and when Lauren counts heads she notices someone is missing in this pose.  Uncle Mike is having a good time playing with the baby.  Lauchlan is delivered and the photo taking proceeds.  












                                                          Crystal and Lauren think maybe we can get a quick shot of Grandmommy and all the kids so I hand off my camera to Mike and have a seat.  The wind kicks up a bit and by this time control is soon to be a thing of the past.  Check out Deuce in the bottom left corner of this picture.  The final blow is being dealt to Mikey's tummy as baby Lauchlan looks on!  Smiles turn to tears and it's unanimous, THAT'S A WRAP!  

So at the end of the day, Lauren did manage to get some good shots and we made a fun memory.  Now it looks like maybe we should go and work on our spelling!

Pick Me

Crystal 

When my oldest daughter Crystal was 6 years old she was selected to have the lead role in the annual dance recital at a studio where she took dance.  There was no audition for the part.  She happened to be the proper age, cute as a bug and a good little dancer.  She was always in class on time, with proper attire and worked hard to learn new steps.  As a mommy I can tell you that I was very excited for this opportunity for her to shine.  Or was it really about her at all?

As a parent don't we always want our children to shine?  We want them to be the star.   To be the best at whatever sport they choose.  To be picked first on the red rover team.  Somehow this seems to make us look much cooler as their parent.  It is much the same as being picked ourselves.  We cheer loudly from the stands when they score the point or make the block or spell the word correctly.  We want everyone to know they belong to us.  "Yes, they are great because of the genes I contributed!" silently rolls around in our heads.

From the time we are young we have this inborn desire to not be left out. We want to be picked.  We want to be chosen to be on the team.  We want to be the one who scores the winning point.  We want the lead role.  We want to be the star.  Evidence of this desire seems to explains the YouTube explosion, the popularity of American Idol and also the hundreds of reality TV shows.  Don't we all secretly want to be a star, if only for a moment?

Do you ever wish that God would pick you to do something amazing like the saints from the bible?  Do you ever wish you were like Moses or Paul?  Or how about being chosen to be the mother of the Christ?  I must confess that sometimes when I'm reading the bible I wish I was picked to do something great.  Now my thoughts are of course based on my own selfish desire to "just be picked".  When I really stop to consider what that means I'm not so sure I'm quite as willing to raise my hand.

Those picked for what we consider the "big jobs", suffered!  They suffered in ways that my mind can not even begin to comprehend.  Moses was picked.  He wondered around in the desert for 40 years kicking sand with a group of ungrateful comrades.  Mary was picked but had to watch her son suffer being brutally beaten and then executed.  Or how about John the Baptist who was picked before birth and was later beheaded.  Then there were all the apostles who were picked but were also, drug by horses, stoned, clubbed, thrown off buildings, shot with arrows, boiled in oil, thrown into prisons, exiled and numerous other forms of torture and execution.  Being picked by God isn't quiet as glamourous as being picked to be the next American Idol.  Sometimes being picked means being worthy of suffering.

"All this is evidence that God's judgment is right, and as a result you will be counted worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are suffering."  2 Thessalonians 1:5


Like 6 year old Crystal, they did not audition for the part.  They were simply picked by God and were faithful to fulfill the role that He prepared for them even though it brought them hardship.  In reality we all have been picked by God.  We were born to serve God and to do good works.  No role is too small in His kingdom.  Whether we are the most notable saint is of little importance to God as long as we are faithful in the role He has chosen for us.

"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do."  Ephesians 2:10


So although I may never be remembered for what I consider the "big jobs",  may I be found faithful and courageous in fulfilling the works that God has picked me for and may I remember that in God's eyes I am great!

"Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist;  yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he."  Matthew 11:11

Conjuring Up Fear

I wish that as a child I had understood that God was always with me.  I was told that God was everywhere but all that meant to me was that he knew if I was being bad because he could see me no matter where I was or what I was doing.  Got to love that guilt placed on me and countless other children in catechism classes.  My big confession each week before communion was that I fought with my sister.  The priest finally got so tired of hearing the same thing week after week that he told my parents my sister and I could skip confessing that one so that other people could have a turn.  Seems the penance for that infraction was to spend some time on your knees in a corner.  I'm not so sure my time counted though since I vaguely remember the whole time I was on my knees I was praying for my sister to be nicer!

When I was little I was terrified of the dark.  I was afraid of vampires long before they were cool and werewolves before they had six pack abs.   I was afraid of ghosts, devils, dogs that barked at me, whatever might be under the bed waiting to attack me and the mean old lady that sat on her porch between me and my friend's house down the street.  I hated to be alone.  It was of no comfort to me that God was everywhere.  My experiences with fear helped me to be much more understanding when our girls faced childhood fears of their own.

When Melanie was little she was always afraid to go anywhere by herself.  She never wanted to ask the lady at the cash register for change or make a trip to the bathroom by herself.  Thankfully Melanie had her cousin Ellen, who was a bit more bold, to go most everywhere with her all the way into adulthood.  Her sisters got a little tired of her overactive imagination but Ellen was her rock and let her stand in her shadow all the way to countless bathrooms and to face down the scary people waiting to take her order at the ice cream counter.  Melanie is a bit more bold today but definitely not an extrovert.

Now Lindsay was another story.  Lindsay is the middle child of the second set of three girls.  Lindsay was afraid to go to bed and her prayer each night for years was, "God bless everyone in the whole world except bad men and the devil. Amen."  She use to build a pillow and stuffed animal wall all around herself each night with precision.  I called it her fortress.  She would sleep snuggly in her little cushy cocoon while whoever slept with her complained that all her animals were taking up the whole bed.  The night light never seemed to be enough and she always wanted another light on.  This was also met with sibling complaints of having to sleep in the daylight.  I think that sometimes nights seemed eternal for Lindsay.  She was always the last to go to sleep and I truly did feel her pain.  Today she is still the last one to go to sleep.  Some habits are hard to break!

Today I try to deal with my fear in a more proactive way instead of cowering under the covers.  A popular Christian song has a phrase in it taken from Romans 8:31, "And if our God is for us, nothing can ever stop us and if our God is with us, nothing can stand against".  I love that line of the song.  What a powerful truth and freedom is in those few words.  Not even the worst fears we can conjure up can stand against God and that is comforting for me since I can conjure up some pretty scary stuff.  I've grown to realize that most of the battle is in my mind so it is important for me to fill my mind with the truth of God's word so that I can draw that double edged sword of His word whenever the need arises.

Here is a little something to sharpen your sword...
"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you;  he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid;  Do not be discouraged."  Deuteronomy 31:8

Oh Those Funny Phases

Melanie 1987

     When my youngest daughter Melanie was 3, she was captured by a photographer one evening and her picture ended up on the front page of the local newspaper.  Sounds cute and fun doesn't it?  Well, it just so happened that during this period of her life she had a thing for her cowboy boots.  She wore them with everything.  This day she was sporting them with her cute little shorts outfit and no they did not match!!  Not only that but they were on the wrong feet and her hair was a mess. (mostly due to a phase of cutting her own bangs to the scaIp)  I know, I know what could be worse!  Amazing how she still looked precious and no one seemed to think I was a terrible mother.
     Little did I know at the time that this was the first of several of Melanie's quirky fashion statements.  The next one came along when she was around 5 or 6 years old.  She would spend the day dressed in an old maroon nightgown that had been her grandmother's and some size 4 high heels that had been her great grandmother's.  Anytime we needed to go somewhere I would have to get her to change and as soon as we got home she was back in her "special" gown.  I'm not sure how long this lasted but it seemed like forever.
     Next came the roller blade stage.  The downstairs of our house had mexican tile and the stairs were carpeted.  She wore roller blades from dawn till dusk and she would run up and down the stairs in them and hit the tiles full speed ahead.  Those days it was sort of like living in a roller derby rink.  I know, I know, I should've banned them in the house but we choose our battles and after all she WAS the baby.
     If you ever saw the movie "Mr. Mom" you will remember the flannel shirt scene where Mrs. Mom tells Mr. Mom that his shirt needs to go into the dry cleaner hall of fame.  Well, our little Melanie had one of those shirts too.  Her sister Lauren was way into fashion at an early age and I think she still shudders when she thinks of that flannel shirt.  Melanie was more into comfort and she loved her flannel shirt.  I'm pretty sure she wore it 4 out of 7 days a week for close to a year.  I know, I know I could've just hid it but then who could bear to see the panic on her face if she couldn't find it.  Okay, I admit that in all these phases I guess I just didn't have the courage to make her unhappy over something that I was sure would pass with time.  Lucky for us that no permanent damage was done because today she seldom wears flannel and I haven't seen her in roller blades in years but she does still have some cowboy boots she wears on occasion.  

Looking for Lions

Deuce Jordan is ready for bed!

     
Speaking of present day... Guess who's little man wears his cowboy boots every day?  Guess who's little man insists on wearing his belt even with his pajamas?  Guess who's little man wears a dirty, beat up black felt cowboy hat everywhere they go?  I bet you   can guess who is sitting back and enjoying the show!     
    
 I love the way God loves us!  He can bring laughter to our lives from what seemed to be a bit of a struggle.  He lets us remember it with humor and not the frustration we felt at the time.  I'm sure He gets frustrated with our phases too but for some reason I kinda suspect that he looks back on some of it with laughter.  If it's all the same to Him though, I hope He never blogs about any of my phases.  We can laugh about those together someday in private, thank you very much! 

Man verses Malls

     Like much of the rest of the nation, we were hit pretty hard the past few weeks with frigid, icy, conditions.  Gary and I made a planned trip to the Dallas area and got to spend some time with two of our girls.  The roads were so bad that Emily didn't have school and Lauren was working from home so we were actually able to get to see them a bit more than usual.  We braved the roads with some other obviously not so timid drivers and headed to the only logical place to hang out.  THE MALL!  I'm sure Gary would've had some other suggestions for us but after dealing with 7 women for years now, he knows that he would be outnumbered and outvoted.
     Gary has become a master of the shopping malls, shopping centers and outlets around Texas.  He can get us to one pretty much anywhere in the state with expert precision and can even remember exactly where our favorite stores are located once we arrive.  He patiently paces around, stands outside, carries our bags, visits the massage chairs when available and texts us asking, "R u really still in the same store? Where r we eating?  Meet me in 10?".
     Now this has pretty much been our routine for years but I seemed to notice a slight change up this past trip.  Lauren and Emily's boyfriends came along.  Uh oh!  The teams were now even at 3 and 3.  The scene was set for a shakeup.  Normally our dinner conversations revolve around whatever the girls have been doing lately or which store we are visiting next, what items we need to still purchase, and whether we want to go back and get that really cute pair of shoes or keep looking.  Pretty much the only sports we discuss is our shopping game plan.  This night however, there was a ball loose on the fashion runway.  In the middle of a very animated discussion between Emily and Lauren about how the people on "The Bachelor" get to keep their entire wardrobe and how much they are allotted for shopping, Thomas throws a "Hail Mary" pass with, "So who do you think is going to win the Super Bowl?"  LOOKOUT!!!   Emily trips over the loose ball on the runway and loses control of the conversation.  Could this be the beginning of the end of our domineering reign over all things female?  Did someone just seriously mention something unrelated to fashion?  As if in slow motion I watched Blake block the girls as Gary caught Thomas's pass and I laughed on the sidelines and commented on Thomas's very well timed conversion tactic.  His grin said it all.
     Now Gary wasn't too crazy about the idea of the his girls starting to have men in their lives other than him, but my guess is that he is beginning to see that it might not be so bad after all.  I'm also guessing we are going to be carrying our own shopping bags more often in the future.  For the time being though, I'm thankful that I  have a great husband and they have a wonderful daddy who loves us enough to courageously battle the crowds of any mall, fight for the closest parking spots and bravely go where no man should go alone!
    

The Strange Change - A Mother Story

My mom went out last night with a friend.  Now you might be thinking, "Well isn't that nice."  Just let me say that her going out started an evening of head spinning emotions for my sister, my husband and I.
I'll begin by telling you a bit about my mom so you can understand the situation fully.  Mom is 84 years old and lives by herself in a tiny little town in New Mexico.  She drives to another town about 40 minutes away every Thursday to get her hair done and do her weekly shopping.  This has been her routine for many years.  Mom learned to drive as an adult and while not the greatest driver in the world she is a cautious driver and does very well, umm unless you count when she drove into the cement blockade in front of her local Town and Country one morning.  That's another story.

Mom gets up every morning around 4 AM and starts her daily routine of cleaning or working in her yard, maybe cooking or baking something for an ailing friend, and then going to the Senior Center to eat lunch with her friends.  In the afternoon she may go play games with her friends, take someone to the doctor or just piddle around her house and then catch the evening news.  She is usually ready for bed by 7 PM at the latest and always falls asleep watching one of her shows on TV.

On Thursdays I generally call her in the late afternoon or evening to see how her trip to the beauty shop went.  Now I do realize they are called "salons" nowadays but to Mom it is and always will be the "beauty shop".  Last night I went to my granddaughter's soccer game so I didn't call until around 7:30 PM to check in with her.  No answer.  Thinking she might be in the bath I wait 30 minutes and call again.  Still no answer so I leave a message stating that I'm wondering where she is and to call me when she gets in.  I hang up and call her cell phone which I have finally convinced her to leave on when she is away from the house.  I don't even bother to leave a message there because although I have showed her numerous times how to retrieve the messages, she still can't seem to do it.  I'm mildly worried at this point but not alarmed.  I call both phones every 30 minutes for the next 3 hours.  Around 9 PM I texted my sister to see if she spoke with her and knew something I didn't concerning her whereabouts.  She doesn't.  Now we are both worrying and I've involved my husband also who is a bit upset with her for making us all worry.   By 10:15 PM my sister and I are frantically searching for phone numbers of friends and neighbors.  She was on the internet and I was digging through drawers.  Finally she decides to get in the car and drive to New Mexico.  I'm still digging and my husband continues the internet search with any name  I can think of.  At last we locate a number and I phone her friend.   She of course hasn't spoke with her all day and knowing how my mom loves to go to bed early and hates the cold, she says she will make some calls and head over to her house and call me back.  I call my sister and tell her to wait a few minutes before she leaves town.   The friend calls back in 5 minutes and has located her.  Seems she and her neighbor are at the Senior Center listening to a country western band.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????  My mom is out on the town and has missed her curfew that I have self appointed her and she has not even had the courtesy to call me and ask my permission to be out late.
Furthermore, why did she not have that cell phone we bought her handy?  She should have at least let me know she made it home from the beauty shop.  Here I am pacing the floors thinking she could be lying in a ditch or unconscious somewhere and she's out partying with her friends.  Boy is she in trouble when she gets home!

Whoa there Donna.  Take a deep breath and relax.  She is OK.  Did she not offer you grace on a few occasions when you wrecked your car, came in a bit late, forgot to call and tell her you were going to a friends after school?

The phone rings a little before 11 PM and a timid little voice starts making all the excuses she can think of.  She feels bad for worrying us and I agree that the loud music probably made it impossible to hear her phone that was stuffed inside her purse.  "No Mother, it's not broken it works fine you just didn't hear it."
I listen patiently as she tells me how her friend begged her to get dressed and go with her.  (Yeah that's a good one I've used before.)   Oh and the ever classic, "I was with her and didn't have a way home.  I told her I wanted to leave an hour ago."  (Whatever!)

My daughter Crystal with her Nannie Retta

Wait a minute.  At what point in my life did I stop being the child and become the parent of my mom.  Was all that child raising just practice for this time of life.  Watching your parents age is a difficult thing.    I'm sure it is strange for my mom to watch me begin to age also.  She is convinced that I have more wrinkles than her and that she is healthier than I ever thought about being.  She could be right on both counts.  I'm blessed to still have her in my life and if she worries me sometime then I will count that a blessing too.  I didn't have the heart to scold her when it came down to it last night but I'm thinking she won't be doing that again.  I could be wrong.  I seem to remember thinking my daughters wouldn't do stuff again either.  LORD give me courage!!!

Maintaining Regrets

Regrets.  We all have them.   We regret not spending more time with a loved one who has died.  We regret yelling at our spouse or our children.  We regret telling that lie or maybe we just regret not buying that cute pair of shoes the other day that would've matched the pants we are wearing today.  Life is full of regrets.  Some are a learning experience.  Some are sad and some are just downright annoying when they keep reminding us of our shortcomings.  So what do you do with all those regrets?  

Although maybe not so humorous at the time, I have one regret that makes me smile and sometimes laugh.  I regret not checking on Crystal and her cousin a little sooner the Sunday afternoon they completely covered themselves and the entire bathroom with powder.  Two little ghostly white 4 year olds stood in a cloud of powder surrounded by powdery tiles, tub, toilet, carpet and sink, peering at me with the only things not white in the room, two little brown eyes and two little blue eyes.  This regret was short lived but one that helped me to remember to check on them a little more frequently.  This one definitely falls in the learning experience category.  I also regret not snapping a picture of the scene which I would've scanned and included here for your amusement.


When is comes right down to it, I think many regrets are born out of sin.  Things we did that we wish we hadn't done or things that we didn't do out of selfishness that we wish we had done.  Things we have long ago repented of and asked forgiveness for but we can't quiet rid ourselves from the memory of them.  This thought hit home for me while listening to the song, "How He Loves" by David Crowder.  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCunuL58odQ
A line from the song says, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves us.  Oh how He loves us. How He loves us oh."  Is that what I've been doing?  Do I carefully maintain my regrets?  Do I allow them to distract me from the fact that I'm a forgiven child of God.  Do I hold on to them instead of living in freedom from them?  


With 6 girls you can bet that they all have things that they wish they had said or not said and done or not done.  As their mom/stepmom, I would never consider reminding them of those things.  I would never want them to continue to hang on to anything that might cause them pain.  I love them all too much to want them to hurt.  Doesn't the same thing apply to all of us.  God our Father would never want us to maintain our regrets and continue to hang on to them.  He loves us too much for that!  


It's hard to let them go.  It's hard to forget them but maybe the point isn't to forget them but just to learn from them.  I've found that it takes courage to trust someone enough to believe that they will not hold your regrets against you but sometimes it takes more courage to not hold them against yourself.  Love each other deeply because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8  


Maybe I should live in grace and maintain my sanity instead of my regrets!

The Wicked Stepmom

Lauren and Katie

When I was a little girl, "Cinderella" was one of my all time favorite children's stories.  I watched the Rodgers and Hammerstein version of it on TV and danced around singing the songs and imagining myself wearing the beautiful dress with all the dazzling sparkles.   Oh how grand it would be to be a princess!  ("In my own little corner, in my own little room, I can be whatever I want to be.") I'm rather amazed at this moment that I still remember the words to that song!  Go figure!  Childhood dreams seemed to disappear as I reached adolescence and were replace by more realistic aspirations. Maybe I'd just be a teacher.  After all, there isn't much of a demand for a princess in Texas anymore.  In all my dreaming and aspiring I am absolutely certain that I never once wanted to be the wicked stepmother in the story.  As fate would have it, all the princess jobs were taken and it was my lot in life to become, you guessed it, the stepmother.  


Now I've never considered myself wicked, but I use to worry about what my reaction would be when I heard the dreaded words, "You're not my mother!". If they ever thought it, they never said it and I'm eternally thankful to 3 step daughters that I never had to find out.  There are some things in life that we don't need reminded of as a step parent.  


When my step daughters were young I use to pray all the time that I would be a good step mom and that I would love them like they deserved to be loved.  For some people this may come naturally.  For me, it was a source of anxiety and self doubt.  Was I being fair?  Would I make the same decision if this was my own child?  Am I showing them enough love?  Did I spend enough time with them when they were here?  Could I ever possibly love them as much as I love my own daughters?  The list was long.  It's so much easier to fuss at your own children and then forget about it.  When you fuss at your step children you tend to keep thinking about it and trying to justify your position.  

A couple of Jokers!

My oldest step daughter Lauren Elizabeth turned 21 this year.  For her birthday Gary and I took her and her friend, Katie, to Las Vegas.  We had a great time and they loved the shopping, eating, site seeing, shows and yes, even a few slots.  It was a fun trip and we all had a blast.  


The girls flight left earlier than ours so I told them goodbye the night before and Gary got up and made sure they were headed to the airport on time.  We caught our flight a few hours later and they called to let us know they had landed.  They had a 2 hour drive from the airport back to college.  We got home and unpacked and then we got the call that no parent wants to ever get.  The girls were involved in an accident on the highway and were being transported by ambulance to a hospital in Austin.


A million questions racing through my mind all at once.  Some things too horrible to even verbalize.  Lauren's mom was already on the way to Austin.  We were debating what to do.
No flights out until morning and the drive would take us 6 hours.  The details were sketchy at best and we were unsure of their injuries.  I suggested calling the hospital and seeing if we could talk to someone in the emergency room.  When we got hold of the E.R. nurse the girls were still being evaluated and they said we could talk with Lauren if we called back in 15-20 minutes.  I retreated to my room and prayed.  When we finally got to talk to Lauren it was evident that she was very medicated.  She had no memory of what happened and still doesn't to this day.  We were told that she had non life threatening injuries and would be moved to a room when one was available.  Since we weren't Katie's parents we couldn't be told about her condition.  


11 o'clock at night with no hopes of seeing your child until the next morning is not when you want to hear that they are moving her to CCU because she has a possible brain injury.
I couldn't quit crying.  I wanted to be there to hold her and tell her it was all going to be OK.  Was she scared?  How much pain was she in?  Did she wonder where we were?  Did I kiss her goodbye the night before she left?  Suddenly the last haunting question that had plagued me for years was answered.  I do love her as much as I love my own girls.  It hurt just as bad as if she were my own flesh and blood.  I couldn't have been any more upset or any more worried.  She is a part of me even if I didn't give birth to her.


Lauren had a bruised liver brain and lungs, a cut on the back of her head, a broken pelvis and numerous other bruises and scrapes.  Katie required surgery to repair her broken arm and she also had a cut on the back of her head and numerous bruises and scrapes.  From the looks of the car it was nothing short of a miracle they survived.  Their seats appeared to be a cocoon where angels kept watch as the rest of the car smashed in around them.  The contents of their luggage exploded all around the countryside and Lauren's bible was found beside the passenger side door.  It was retrieved by the tow truck driver who did his best to gather all the belongings for the families of the victims.  He was surprised to learn that the occupants of the car were alive.  When Katie's dad asked him if he believed in God, he handed over the bible and said, "I do now."  


Being a stepmom takes courage.  Courage to love when you think you can't and courage to believe that God will supply what you lack.  Courage to let their mom be their mom and to find your place in their lives.  I'm thankful for a God who loves me enough to show me in the midst of such turmoil that He answered my prayer somewhere along the way and has now removed my doubt.  Isn't that just like HIM?