Accolade and Applause

Why does our flesh crave attention so much?  Why is pride such a stumbling block?  Why do we cry out to be seen and heard?  Haven't we all at some point in our lives been star struck?  Haven't we all wanted to be like someone else?  Haven't we all wanted to be known?  Why do we post all those pictures and videos of ourselves on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram?  Are we seeking notoriety of some sort?  What drives us to work hard at our craft or talent?  Why do we label those who don't crave the spotlight as odd, weird or eccentric?

I know that at some point in my life I have been guilty of all of the above.  I have had false hope in myself and my abilities on way too many occasions.  Too often I have taken the credit for something that I alone could never do.  Honestly,  though I would like to, I can't even take credit for anything good in my girls.  While 3 of them grew in my womb, I was not the one who formed them.  If I have ever offered them any good advice or have given them good instruction, even that came from God.  So while it's easy for me to rob God of His glory, in the end I must admit that there is nothing good in me unless by His will He put it there.

God makes us.  God gifts us.  All talent, wisdom and strength come from Him.  We are His creation for His pleasure.  We may work really hard to develop our talents, but in doing that, are we working for His glory or our own?  Are we using the talents He has supplied in us for His cause or our own?   "A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven." John 3:27.  Too many of us believe the lie that our lives belong to us to do with as we choose.  We live in the here and now and give no thought to our eternal purpose.  This does not just apply to the lost either.  There are many who are serving in the church all over the world who struggle with the same issue.

I don't have the answers to all the questions I've asked and probably never will in my time on earth.   I guess I don't really need to know all the answers as long as I know THE ONE who has all the answers.  Today I'm asking God to help me to serve with humility and grace and to cast out arrogance and pride.  I need Him to remind me at every moment to whom I belong.  I want Him to fill me with adoration of who He is in me and then let the "me" fade away so that all that is left to be seen is HIM!  Maybe it's time to sit courageously quiet on the back row and be the odd, weird or eccentric one.

"He must increase, but I must decrease."  John 3:30

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

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

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!
    

Some Fun and Some Not So Fun

It started out O.K. as weeks go.  Monday I got my hair colored and hung out with 2, two year olds and that was fun.  Monday evening we went to watch my oldest grandson play football and that was fun.  They lost.  That wasn't fun!

Tuesday I got to play most of the day with my granddaughter who doesn't live here and that was fun.  Went and did a little shopping with her mommy and that was fun.  That evening Lauren Beth took pictures of Gary and I.  That was fun.  McKinlee  went with us and after a long day she was a bit out of sorts and demanded attention by stripping down to her diaper in 10 seconds while crying and screaming, "Shoes Off!"  Not fun for her but funny for us.
Yeah, we are those people that laugh at our little ones when they are in distress and act totally irrational.   This was also a not fun evening for my daughter Crystal.  Someone broke into her car and stole her purse while she was at her dad's house.

Wednesday I worked.  Not fun.  Got a hot pink hair extension for breast cancer research.  That was way fun.  Took 4 grandkids to supper and that was fun.  We were celebrating birthdays and so we went for ice cream afterward.  Annalee got her face smashed by the door.  Not fun!  Ice cream makes it better though when you are 4 years old.



Thursday a red truck pulled out in front of me on my way to work.  No, I was not on my cell phone.  I slammed the brakes on with such force that my toes hurt afterward.  Now when faced with impending impact a million thoughts speed through your mind and everything else seems to be in slow motion.  A few of my thoughts were, "Are you kidding me?  You are seriously pulling out in front of me?  There is no way I'm going to miss them.  How do I cause the least amount of damage to my car?  Turn the wheel!!!!! "  I missed them by inches and they sped on their merry way as I sat sideways in the right lane shaking uncontrollably thanking God that no one was in the lane next to me and that I was safe.  Not fun!   Lunch and supper (that is dinner to those of you who aren't from the south) with some friends and that was fun.


Friday is today and the washer broke.  Wringing out wet jeans is not fun!  Being told that the warranty has run out, also not fun.  Learning that they can't come fix it for 8 days, not fun.  Cleaning house falls in the not fun category.  Taking a break and writing on my blog, that is fun!


Wait, isn't this suppose to have something to do with courage?  I'm thinking it was more of a week requiring self control.  I didn't say what I was thinking to the rude parents at the football game.  I didn't yell at the grandsons for slamming their sister in the door.  I didn't chase down the driver of the red truck who made me cry.  I didn't even let a foul word slip from my lips as my car was skidding  sideways down the street.  I continued to smile and talk calmly to my confused bloody patient who pulled his central line out and was swinging and yelling at me.  Yes, I would say it was more about self control.

Well that's the week so far and now it's time to scrub the tub and toilets!  NOT FUN!!!!!

Memorable Birthday Wishes

I recently had a birthday.  Recently as in last week.  As I was reflecting, I became increasingly amused by what the occasion had revealed about our 6 daughters.  Each of them unique yet somewhat predictable in their actions, they helped to make the event fun without even trying but just by being who they were created to be.


Let's begin with the day before my birthday.  I received a text bright and early from Crystal, the oldest, explaining to me that she would be calling me later to wish me a Happy Birthday officially.  I laughed as I texted back to tell her that it wasn't until tomorrow.  Now Crystal is the mother of 4 with 2 playing soccer and one playing junior high football so it was easy to understand how she could get confused about which day my birthday actually fell on.  With 5 games to attend that week and everyone having practice and homework she was actually being quiet efficient by letting me know early that she hadn't forgotten.  So a big kiss and a hug for Crystal for being on top of things. 


Melanie arrived to pick me up to run a couple of errands later that same morning.  As I jumped in the car I told her that Crystal had texted to tell me happy birthday.  Before I could finish the story, Melanie began to apologize, "Oh, Mom I'm so sorry I haven't even wished you happy birthday yet."  I laughed and said, "It's not until tomorrow so you can tell me then."  She looked very puzzled trying to figure out in her mind what day it actually was on.  Now Melanie has always been a bit oblivious to what is going on, so it was not surprising at all that she might get the days confused.  I'm sure that when God passed out the post it notes for the brain, Melanie was not present.  She was however present to receive an extra portion of tenderness and for a moment her heart was sad when she thought she had forgotten to wish me a happy day.


Now let's fast forward to my real birthday.  My mom was first to call followed by my best friend Laura who calls each year without fail and sings the entire Happy Birthday song.  Next came a text from Lauren Beth who said she was at work and would call when she got off.  Around 11 a.m. Lauren Elizabeth called from college and wished me happy birthday right after her only class for the day.  I'm sure Gary texted her and her sisters to remind them and she took care of things right away.  She is very responsible and more of the get it done before I forget to do it type.  Both our Laurens are very thoughtful and are good about planning ahead.  She had already mailed me the sweetest card which arrived the next day. 


Emily, the youngest,  tried to call but missed me so she left me a text message.  Being a senior in high school keeps her social calendar pretty busy so I'm lucky she got me squeezed in.  I sent her a thank you text and we called it good.  I know she loves me whether I actually got to talk to her or not.  Emily loves big and lets you know how much you are loved all the time.


Lauren Beth true to her word, called as soon as she got off work and let McKinlee my 2 year old grand daughter wish me happy birthday.   It was so sweet and her mommy knew that it would make my day to hear that cute little voice telling me how much she loves me.  Now Lauren of course had already sent me a gift the previous week.  Like I said before, both Laurens are very thoughtful and good planners.


Birthday dinner was consumed at a local restaurant after we watched a riveting soccer match between a bunch of 4 and 5 year olds. The grand kids loved it when they came out banging pans, announcing to the entire restaurant that it was my birthday and making everyone wish me a Texas sized happy birthday by yelling Yee Haw or something like that.  Honestly, at that point I was too embarrassed to pay attention to what they were yelling.  Texans are into public humiliation on birthdays!  


Fast forward a few more hours as I was getting into bed.  Gary asked if everyone had called.  I laughed and said, "No and I'm sure you can guess who I haven't heard from.".   Within a few minutes my phone rang and we laughed again knowing full well who it was.  Our little procrastinator and other college student Lindsay was on the line.  She and I shared a good laugh as I told her she had gotten the call in just under the wire with almost an hour to spare.  She entertained me for a few minutes with her quick wit and then the day was done.

So for me, with 6 you get courage but you also get a lot of fun and amusement along the way.  I'm blessed beyond measure by these 6 beautiful women in my life and look forward to what this new year holds for each of us.  Somehow I'm thinking that next year's birthday wishes may play out about the same.  Absolutely perfect!

War of the Wills

When my 2nd baby girl was born she was a beauty. Still is I might add. She came into the world sucking her little thumb and was a sweet blessing during a difficult time. Her paternal grandmother was battling cancer and her arrival was a bright spot in an unusually snowy West Texas January.

By the age of two she was very independent and always trying to keep up with her big sister. She had extremely straight almost white hair and the darkest brown eyes you've ever seen, was potty trained at 17 months and at 2 and a half years we were all ready for the arrival of baby number 3. Well, I thought we were ready.

Whoever came up with term "middle child syndrome" must have been peering through our windows. My precious little, highly intelligent, super advanced 2 year old suddenly turned into what would be my greatest test of strength and courage for the next 3 years.

It all began so subtly. She loved to sit with me while I was feeding and rocking her baby sister. Somehow she would wedge her little feet between my tummy and the baby and then begin to straighten out her legs trying to shove baby sister out of my lap. Thankfully this behavior was short lived and mildly amusing.

Next came the loss of all ability to make it to the potty. Now after a good 7 to 8 months of going to the potty we suddenly couldn't make it. As if cleaning up pee wasn't getting her enough attention she must have figured out it took me twice as long to clean up the other, which sometimes required a bath. I don't remember how long that all continued as I seemed to have block it from my mind, but I know it was well over 6 months. I feel quiet certain that a desperate mother of a middle child was the one who came up with the idea for Pull Ups!

Once we passed the 2nd round of potty training then came the stuttering stage. This was not severe and only lasted about a year praise the Lord. The final stage and by far the most stressful for us all was the separation anxiety stage. I wish I could say that I handled it with grace but then that would just be a bold faced lie.

I think on several occasions I was certifiable.

My worst meltdown from this stage of course took place in front of people I had to see every day. After months and I do mean MONTHS of the teachers dragging my anxiety ridden child from the car every morning kicking and screaming I hit my all time low. I had already removed her from all activities except kindergarten at the urging of her pediatrician. Each morning we would pull in the line and I would try to be cheerful in hopes of keeping her spirits up. Her older sister was always a big encourager but I think she even started dashing for the building to save herself from embarrassment. This one particular morning an impatient dad began honking at me to move out the way. Not just one little beep mind you but several blasts. Rude behavior for a christian private school attendee parent if you ask me but what followed was probably rude beyond all measure. After getting out the car to help pry 10 little fingers from anything within grasp and tearfully watching my screaming child once again be drug into the building, my frustration hit the boiling point. Poor unsuspecting dad with the honk happy hand probably wished he could escape when he saw me marching back to his window. My words were few but I'm sure they reached far and wide in the chilly morning air, "Buddy, if you think you can do a better job then you go try to get her in the building and I'll sit back here and honk the horn!!!!". There was no response other than a look of complete shock and bewilderment. I would like to say that time has made me rueful of that moment but I think it was a real turning point for me. After months of being held captive by a 5 year old's will, I affirmed to myself that I was doing the best I could do and was courageously battling on.

By the time she hit 1st grade you will be glad to know that she became a well adjusted and outgoing child. She re-enrolled in dance, took piano, went back to children's choir and Sunday school and marched into school voluntarily each morning. She has grown into a beautiful young woman and now has a little strong willed two year old of her own. When she calls me with a new "terrible two" story I admit that I probably have a twinge of satisfaction as I laugh. Oh, what joys await her on the other side.

Courage Isn't Without Heartache

This morning I was thinking about when my oldest daughter was just learning to read. We were out running errands and she was proudly showing off her new reading skills by reading all the signs along the way. When we pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store she read the name of the store and then read the other large words on the front of the building. "Food", "Drugs" she read aloud with confidence in her ability. She then innocently turned to me and asked, "Mom if they want people to stop taking drugs, why don't they just quit selling them?". It was obvious that they had been pushing the "Just Say No" campaign at school.

This is a bittersweet memory for me. If I had known on that day the intense battle that lay ahead of us, I would not have been laughing. I would have been face down on the floor begging God for mercy for this sweet child. Was this moment a foreshadowing of the future? I can't really say for sure. I only know that there were many days I wished she was still that sweet little brown eyed girl looking at me with her simple solution to one of life's dilemmas.

During her turbulent teenage years and into the early 20's of this precious child's life I learned what it meant to take courage to a whole new level. I did things I honestly didn't think I could do. Nothing heroic mind you, but it takes a great deal of courage to place your child in the care of others and walk away.

Day after day I prayed, "Please God, free her from this addiction. Please watch over her. Please, remove all the bad influences from her life. Please, Please, Please!". The prayer list was long and growing daily. I cried, begged and pleaded with God over and over. Then I realized one day it was time to just throw in the towel. Not to give up, but to give in. I admitted to God that I had a trust issue. I didn't trust God to take care of her, I didn't trust him to keep her from harm, I didn't trust him to find her a way out of this mess. I simply didn't trust God to love her more than I did.

God! You know, the one who created the universe, spun the world into existence and set the stars in space, well he just simply wasn't big enough to love her as much as me. For heavens sake I was her mom! No one could love her as much or as unconditionally as me. Right? Let me just say that I'm thankful that God is in the forgiving business because I was certainly standing in need of it. So after repenting of my unbelief, I timidly placed her in His hands.

Now when you place your child in God's hands and say, "They are your child God and I'm only part of their life because you chose me to be. Do with them what you will.", you don't stop worrying automatically. You gradually learn that with every worry you reach out to your source of strength and you ask Him to give you courage to face whatever the next minute, day, week, month or year holds. You ask Him to hold you as tightly as he is holding them. You submit to His will for their life as well as your own.

Today this beautiful young woman's life is a testament. God gives her courage each day to fight the good fight. He has restored what Satan tried to steal, kill and destroy. My life is richer and my courage and faith stronger because God allowed me to be her mom. The joy she has brought to my life far outweighs any pain that Satan, through addiction, caused.

She is a work of art designed by the Master's hands and I am the blessed Mom who get's to be a part of her life and His work.