An Apology of Sorts

Sadly I have been very busy lately with family and travel and unable to blog.  I am hoping to get back to blogging more regularly in a few weeks.  I'm heading back to Guatemala with a mission team soon and have been working hard to prepare.  I'm sure I will have so much to tell when I return and lots of pictures to share.
Thanks for checking in on the blog site to see if I've posted and thanks for your patience.  So until then enjoy a picture of my newest grand baby, Jase and big brother Deuce.  Grace and Peace to you!

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

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! 

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?

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!

Missionation

Several years ago Gary and I decided it was time to take our girls on a mission trip. We were fortunate to have a good friend whose parents are missionaries in Guatemala and he put us in contact with them. After emailing back and forth we picked a date, got all the girls passports, made reservations, did some training, planning and packing and headed to a foreign country with 5 girls. Let me correct that last line. We headed to a foreign country with 5 VERY SPOILED girls. The oldest daughter was expecting and unable to go with us.

The first half of our trip was spent at a Christian school in Chimaltenango which is run by the Reynolds through their ministry called, His Appointed Time. We played, taught, praised and loved on the cutest group of kids you've ever seen. In the afternoons we did some painting at the school. We were privileged to get to see the site for the new restoration center that they were planning to build and get to pray for the future of the ministry there.

The second half of the trip was spent in in a little village named Atitlan. Three

volcanoes sit around the lake and the mountains are dotted with brightly colored buildings which are nestled in lush green foliage. Most of the people wear their native attire and the different weaves denote their particular tribe.

The girls and I had a blast shopping with all the local vendors. We picked out our treasures and Gary and Lindsay did the bartering and paying. Lindsay is not much of a shopper but her Spanish came in handy for wheeling and dealing.

After deciding to take a tour around the lake by boat, we all loaded the seaworthy craft and shoved off. Just as we were leaving another man jumped into the boat.

After a short drive we began pulling into a small village. Not being proficient with the language we were not really sure what was going on. Gary became a bit anxious but maintained a calm demeanor so as not to alarm us women who were totally oblivious to the situation as we took in all the beauty of the view. Our unexpected passenger simply jumped out of the boat and Gary made it clear that we were not wanting to visit the village and we were once again on our way. It never occurred to me that we could've been robbed or left for dead somewhere. I suppose it's sometimes a good thing not to have trust issues but in retrospect, maybe a third world country is not the best place to be a trusting soul.

Our next scary moment took place around dusk. We were sitting inside an open air restaurant feeding our starving shoppers when we heard what to us sounded like loud gunfire. The room went dark and we were all trying to figure out what was happening while we somewhat crouched down at the table. The waiters appeared with candles and explained that a transformer had blown and we would be dining by candle light. I'm of the mind now that it was a plot so that we would be unaware of what we were eating, as it was the worse meal we had on our trip. We are relatively certain this was where Lauren Beth contracted her stomach woes requiring her to start the antibiotics we packed. She was still running fever when we boarded the plane and I had to get a bit testy with the flight attendant who refused to find me a pillow and blanket for her. I tried not to cause a "Meet the Parents" scene but let's just say that she did indeed find her a blanket.

To sum it all up, it was a courageous adventure in the unknown but one that none of us will ever forget. I think of all my trips and travels this had to be one of my very favorites. It was filled with spiritual awakenings, adventure, fun, and lots of love and laughter.

In September I will be making my 4th trip to Guatemala as I lead a team there to do some mission work. I'm thrilled that 2 of our girls will be going with me this time. It will be an honor to get to serve alongside Lauren Beth and Melanie again in this beautiful country and among these humble and precious people.

I would like to report that as I type this 2 more of our girls are currently in Brazil doing ministry work. This is Emily's second trip to the Amazon and Lauren Elizabeth's first. Lindsay went 2 years ago but decided not to return this year.

From our first mission to Africa in 2003 I can tell you that each trip takes a certain amount of courage. Courage to step out of your comfort zone and step into an unknown culture. Each step is committed to being God's hands and feet and helping to fulfill the "Great Commission". "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matt. 28:19-20

You never know how much you are capable of until you feel incapable. The freeing moment comes when you admit you are unable to do it and allow God to supply you with all the strength, courage, and wisdom you will need for the journey knowing that He is true to His word and ..."with you always, to the very end of the age".

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.