"All is Well"

Last Friday was a normal day.  I was meeting my husband and my son, who had just come home from college, at a new coffee shop to have some lunch. I was almost there when the guy on the radio announced that there had been a "school shooting" in Connecticut and few details were out but that reports said that three people had been hurt and were at the hospital.   It caught my attention because anytime there is a news report concerning a school I stop to listen.  I spent five years as a high school and middle school teacher so my ears are always alert to "school news."  After we finished lunch I got back in my car just in time to hear the updated news.  This time the report was 27 dead, 18 children.  I wanted to push a "rewind" on the radio and make sure I had heard what I thought I heard.   I drove down the road with my mouth open and saying all I knew to say out loud, "Oh God."  As I continued to listen to the report I started to cry, I texted my husband (yes, I did pull over), and then I prayed.   It's really all I know to do when such sad and shocking things occur.  The feeling in the pit of my stomach reminded me of that terrible feeling I had when seeing the space shuttle "Challenger" disintegrate in midair and when I watched the towers fall on September 11, 2001.

I have watched countless reports on TV trying to figure out, in my finite mind,  how something like this could occur in a small town, much like the one I live in.   I have listened to commentators and preachers and politicians struggle to bring words to something for which there are no words.  I look at the precious angelic faces of the children, some who have lost their two front teeth and some who haven't yet.  I think of the first responders and the unimaginable scene they walked in on when they rushed in to try and save the classrooms full of children who were already gone from this Earth.  A feeling of sadness settles in and for some reason it feels "right."  As a parent I grieve with those who grieve and it feels "right."  I feel what I hear these parents in Connecticut say.....that they want to remember their sweet children.  They don't want to give voice to the evil, they only want to honor their precious little boys and girls.  They don't want to talk about gun laws or mental illness or hate.  They don't want anger to settle in yet.   They want to hold their child and brush their hair and tell them it's only eleven more days until Santa Claus comes.  The rest will come but for now they just want to grieve.  That's how I feel.  I don't want to analyze semi-automatic weapons or various mental disorders.  Right now it just doesn't matter and to me it seems to dim the bright lights of these people who have died. 

My mind goes to the killer's mother, who lost her life at the hands of her own son.  She had devoted her entire life to taking care of her child.  She had a love for him that only a mother knows.  Sacrifices, tears, fears, that only she knew about.  Yet, love immeasurable.  My mind goes to the principal who was also a mother to a houseful of girls.  She tried to protect her school by implementing extra security and then she tried to protect all of her students by throwing herself in front of the gun......There are countless others........the mother of 27 year old Vicki Soto who shielded her students and saved the lives of many.........

The reality of living your life as a mother is this.........when you hear the firetrucks and ambulances on the road or see the Lifeflight helicopter fly, you immediately do a mental checklist of each of your children.  When you wake in the night and they aren't home yet, you immediately start calling and texting to find them.  There are days when you can tell from their voice or from the look on their face that it hasn't been a good day and you would move heaven and earth to fix it.  You do like Mary the mother of Jesus did, you watch and you "ponder everything in your heart."  You would do just as the principal and the teachers and the first responders did.......you would  take a bullet for your child without a second thought. 

We went to our church Christmas program a few nights ago and the choir did a song called "Christmas in Heaven" where the writer wonders what  Christmas in Heaven is like after losing someone especially close to him.  I know, through my faith, and through God's word in the Bible, that every moment in Heaven is better than our minds can imagine.  Sort of like the best Christmas we can ever remember.  Those of us who have had people that we love pass on to Heaven can trust that these people along with all of these precious children are singing "Silent Night" with the angels and feeling the warmest light of love ever created.  They are truly dancing and singing "Joy to the World, the Lord has come." 

My  sadness hasn't lifted yet, but in my Spirit I know that "All is Well" and that my friends and family who are already there are happy.  Merry Christmas and may Jesus' love touch anyone who reads this.

The Best Gifts are the Unexpected Ones!!!

My sister and I have a long standing tradition of going to Bible Study and then going to eat lunch to hash out what was discussed in Bible Study.   We even go to the same place everytime, and most of the time we order the same thing, including the 99 cent cookie from the bakery.  Started out as "just our little treat" when all of our kids finally started school.  The tradition has continued for almost ten years and has seen our sweet children go from kindergarden to graduation.  Time flies and it doesn't seem possible that our conversations have gone from what will be their Halloween costume, to where will they go to middle school, to where have they applied for college.  Believe me, many many MANY dreams have been discussed  at our "post Bible Study" lunches.

I remember one conversation very well, just as I remember most conversations, thanks to my healthy "auditory recall" which I was blessed with in lieu of my bad eyes.  My sister and I were eating lunch and she told me that she had an idea and proceeded to ask me what I thought about it.  Her family had moved to a new home and she was praying for God to help her use her home for His glory.  Her idea was to start a summer camp for young girls.  The focus would be to make sure that each young girl claim the verse found  in Psalm 139:13-14 stating that she is fearfully and wonderfully made.  The goal would be to build self esteem and help each girl find her specific gift that God had given her.  I remember listening as she went on about ideas and details.   My form of processing is to listen and process, listen and process, add a nod of the head, and process some more.  I'm also known for nodding and saying "uh huh, uh huh."  But after an hour or so of her telling me ideas and me processing,  my response was "you are definitely on to something."  Looking back, my response should have been "You don't know it yet, but God is up to A LOT and He is about to use you in a mighty way."  The two of us had NO IDEA how quickly "Camp Wonderfully Made" would take off and how great it would be.  We had no idea the challenges that would come and the blessings that would be lavished on it.  But God knew.  He was looking for a woman in Brentwood, Tennessee who would say "Here am I, send me."

Well, "Camp Wonderfully Made" has grown and prospered.  Many many girls have come to camp each summer and many teenage counselors and adult counselors have been touched by the lives sent their way.   God has grown "Camp Wonderfully Made" into "Wonderfully Made Ministries" and now girls from all walks of life get the benefit of not only coming to camp in the summer but also learning and gaining the blessings from the original mission that the camp was started on.  "Wonderfully Made Ministries" makes it possible for girls to go to ballet classes and take music lessons and do things that they wouldn't normally be able to do.  It enables them to dream their dreams so that one day they might "pay it forward" and help other little girls realize their gift of being "fearfully and wonderfully made."  

Shadow of the Cross, Close to the Heart of "Wonderfully Made Ministries."

There have been those who have been involved with "Camp Wonderfully Made" from the very beginning.  My sister has one daughter and she was "on board" from Day 1.   It is not a coincidence that my niece has been given the "gift" of a servant's heart.  She literally loves doing for others and has since she was a little girl.  She has been involved with virtually every aspect of "Camp Wonderfully Made" from administrative duties to lifeguarding to counseling.  But she truly shines when she is working"one on one" with a camper.  Often she can be found with the camper who is having a bad day or one who just needs a little extra attention.    They literally cling to her sweet spirit and kind smile.   My niece is now a senior in high school and is now contemplating her next step in her education.  She has worked very very hard to do well in school and get the scores needed to get into the college that she has always wanted to go to.......the University of Tennessee.  Her resume' is heads and tails above most others because, as I mentioned before, all she wants to  do is help others.  But she has done her due dilligence......hours and hours of tutoring, speech classes since she was three years old,  ACT Testing, and more testing, homework and more homework, and did I happen to mention more speech and more tutoring...........and did I mention that she always has a smile on her face and never a complaint in her beautiful heart?  So it was completely fitting,  that "Sweet C" got her early Christmas gift from the One who formed her and created her perfectly.  My sister was hosting a fundraiser for "Wonderfully Made Ministries" so that little girls could be given the chance to use their God given gifts for a higher purpose, when her own sweet girl pulled her aside to let her know that she had been admitted to the college she had worked so hard to get into.  When we heard the "ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!!" shout from the kitchen, my older sister and I knew instinctively what was going on.  We both dropped what we were doing and quickly  made our way to our sweet sissie and niece to join in this celebration.  How fitting that these two who have given so much time to helping other girls find their gifts were now getting a huge gift of their own, with a Big Orange Bow.  I think that our Heavenly Father must have had a wonderful time coming up with this surprise for his two daughters who had so willingly followed his call to help others.   I can picture Him thinking "wouldn't it be great to give them this gift when they least expect it.  I know, I'll do this when they are busy focusing on giving to others."  Then I can picture Him, as we all gather and celebrate  in the kitchen, looking around at the angels  and saying "Well folks, that's what it's all about."    What a great gift from God to let us be there when "Sweet C" and her mom got this exciting news.

For those of you who wake up in the night praying for your child,  holding tight as ever to the faith that God loves that child more than you do and He will not disappoint......but then realizing that there are  certain things that  are out of your control...........Keep holding on........Keep praying.........Keep believing...........Keep following His call on your life.  That's my Story and I'm Stickin to It. 

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."  Psalms 139:13-14.

A Shout Out to "Second Tier" Blessings!!!

Hallelujah!!!!!  There is now a TV show that my entire family can enjoy together.  Not since "Friday Night Lights" have we had a show that we could all gather in the den and watch and genuinely enjoy together.  I have tried, on occasion, to get my 4 boys into one of  "my programs."  My husband does try to sit and watch "the girly" shows with me, just to be nice, but I can tell when he is about to throw in the towel.  Last week during "said girly show" he actually got up and went to iron his clothes for the following day.  Dead giveaway when he would rather iron than watch "my show." 

There are so many reasons to love "Duck Dynasty."  You have to actually sit and watch several episodes to really get the "Duck Dynasty fever."  But when you do, WATCH OUT, because you will find yourself watching and waiting for the next DD marathon.  It's one of those rare shows that is funny, pure, feels good, and sometimes, seems all too familiar, at our house.   These people all feel totally comfortable in their own skin and it shows.  They are thankful for their "redneck roots."  Things like family, religion, eating what you hunt, morals, forgiveness, and laughing are all in a day's work.  They don't apologize for their way of life, and it almost makes you yearn for the simpleness of it.........and then you realize that this is a "reality show" and some of it is staged and some is not.  Never the less, the concept is unbelievably inviting.  Seeing a grandfather take his grandchildren hunting and fishing and sortof weaving the wisdom of life into these times are what make this show special.  Phil isn't afraid to talk about the "birds and the bees" with his grandchildren, although he does it in a way  that is so appropriate and refreshing.  They respect nature, they respect guns and what they can do, they respect their wives and daughters, and they respect each other.  There's no bashing of either political party, there's no discussion of anyone's sexual preference, there's nobody sleeping around with someone else's wife,  or anything that gets one's feathers ruffled.   What it does focus on is hard work, family love and very funny stories.

When someone asks me what I am thankful for I immediately go to the biggies.   I try to never take my good health for granted.  Free country, family, all of the things that are the things we are most grateful for.  There are also things that don't really fit into the "first tier" of blessings, although they are huge in our everyday lives.  These are the things that almost on a daily basis you smile to yourself and think "I love that."  But it might not register on the list of biggies right here at Thanksgiving.  So today I'm gonna give the "Second Tier" of "Thankfuls" a "Shout Out"....... Those things that warm my heart and make me smile. 

I'm thankful for:  High School boys who "step up" to encourage the  younger guys.   I'm thankful for unexpected texts from my college student.  I'm thankful for brothers who aren't too cool to engage in an all out snuggle fest.    I'm thankful for the three women at Battle Page Insurance who make my husband's work day a little more bearable.  I'm thankful for Tuesday Bible studies with my parents and sister. I'm thankful that God invented music and the Brentwood Baptist Choir.  I'm thankful for the kids who totally make my day when they seem glad to see me and give me a hug.  I'm thankful for belly laughs with my sisters.  I'm thankful for much needed glasses of wine and dinners with my husband.  I'm thankful that I can talk politics with people who disagree with me and we still love each other.  I'm thankful for trips to the grocery store where you run into so many of your friends.  I'm thankful for melatonin to help me sleep better and good coffee to wake me up.    I could go on and on but suffice it to say, that when you get to this age it's the little things that totally brighten your day and make you sit back and take notice. 

So here's to "Second Tier" blessings and Duck Dynasty.......Happy Thanksgiving!!!!  That's my Story and I'm stickin to it.

Life's Disappointments

Life is full of disappointments.  It's literally always something.  Sometimes the disappointments are huge and other times it's just a momentary "shrug of the shoulders" disappointment.  This week  has just been a "losing" kind of week for me.  First, my candidate, Mitt, gets beat.  Then, several of "my teams" get beat and before you know it, heck, I've been on the "losing end" the entire week.  It should come as no surprise that the weekly Bible Study I go to on the Book of Daniel, was about the approaching tribulation and end of the world prophesies.   Just perfect to go with the kind of week I was in the middle of.......stinky, loser week.  As usual, I'm really trying to see the glass "half full."  I'm hopeful,  I'm praying,  I'm even listening to praise music to lighten my spirits.  I end the stressful week by making a full recipe of fudge tarts and enjoying every bite.  Nothing seems to help............

I think we can all agree that as "middle agers" we have dealt with our share of disappointments in life.  I'm talking about disappointments, not devestating events that are truly life changers.  The things like presidential elections, football games, failed tests, missed opportunities........those types of things.  By the time we reach 40-50 years of age we have learned to shrug our shoulders and probably mutter something under our breath like "Unbelievable," or, if you're a little more disappointed you might emaphatically say, "Man, that sucks."  (I know, I know..... Southern ladies should not say "sucks" but that sortof goes out the window when you're truly disappointed.)  Having said this, disappointment rises to an entirely,  I mean hugely, entirely, different level when our children suffer disappointments.  I have been known to literally turn red starting with my toes and ending with fire coming from my mouth and ears when I feel that my kid has been "wronged."    Whoever said that the "wrath of a woman is like none other" was a very very wise person.   The problem comes when you know deep down, as a parent, that your child must suffer disappointment in life in order to learn how to deal with life.   We would love nothing better than to go in "firing with both barrels" but we know deep down that is not the answer.  I think about how many times I have been disappointed and hurt through the years by friends, coaches, teachers, and sometimes, family.  I also think about organizations like schools, churches, teams, work places, politics, etc.... that I feel have treated me unfairly.   I have spent the past week going over some of these in my mind because I have truly had a "poor pitiful me" week and have, oddly enough, pondered through a lot of the disappointing moments in my life.   I can say that most, if not all, of those experiences had a pretty profound way of shaping who I am today.  I don't really remember if it was by nature that I dealt with these disappointments in a certain way or if my parents taught me how to deal with them.  It was probably a combination of the two.

What I know for sure and for certain, after having a pretty miserable time at my pity party this week, is that I don't want to be that person.  I don't want to be negative, and skeptical, and bitter and yuck.  I want to be joyful and happy.  Do I feel the need to have a "pity party" every so often?  Yes!!!  ...But I am thankful for friends and family who refuse to let me "park" there.  They encourage me to "move on."   I always said that I NEVER want to be the older person who is bitter and griping and complaining.  I want to be encouraging to younger folks and give them hope when the world disappoints them.  I'm finding that harder to do, the older I get, and the more I learn about how mean and unfair the world can be. 

This week as I was rounding the corner on my street I saw my precious neighbor, whose name I don't even know.  She gives me inspiration even though she has no idea who I am or that I am watching her.  It might be very cold or very rainy but she finds the strength to walk every day.  She "keeps on, keepin on." (And might I add that she had 4 Romney/Ryan signs in her yard.)    I also went to a college football game this weekend.  There I saw all kinds of people on walkers or in wheelchairs.  They had obviously struggled to get there.  Most were smiling and laughing and holding on to their mate.  They were loving life.  I see "Wounded Warriors" riding bikes while missing arms and legs,  I see posts on Facebook about parents who are taking care of premature babies and then I see posts about children who are fighting cancer, and winning.   I think that it's OK to vent every once in a while.  It's even OK to say that something "sucks" when it does.  It might even be OK to question God and why he allows certain things to happen in this world.  But it is never OK to lose our joy that comes through God's new mercies that he graciously gives to us every morning.   The joy that the creator of this universe loves us and has our backs, even when we don't realize it or even believe it.  He still does.  This, my friends is what I will ponder this week.  No more whining and griping..........I will ponder the amazing love that I never even earned or asked for.......I just received it.  Unbelievable.

 "And HOPE, does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts, by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."  Romans 5:5 

Lamenting......and a little Preaching

Well, here we are, the morning after the 2012 Elections and sure enough, the sun came up,  I got my children off to school, and I am planning to go to work and pay bills.  I've read all of the positive upbeat comments from people about the sun still coming up and God still being in control.   I want to say that I agree whole heartedly with these sentiments, in fact, that's not only my "hope" but what I place my faith in every day of my life.....not just this day.  However, I believe that my job as a citizen and a parent is to learn valueable lessons through life and then try to use those lessons to help others.

One of the things that has continually "gnawed" at me during the past four years is the back and forth that has gone on regarding the different "classes."  There are certain "hot button" isues that don't hardly even get my attention and others that just really get "in my crawl."  The "class warfare" is probably THE ONE that really makes me angry.  It makes me angry because I thought we had moved past the whole rich vs. poor, black vs. white, man vs. woman, etc... etc....  I guess I mistakenly thought this, because in my world,  I had.  As I have said before on this blog, I was brought up being taught that "Joe Blow" down the street, "puts his pants on just like you do.....one leg at a time."  The thought process saying "I deserve this or that" just doesn't enter my mind.  The botttom line is that there will always be those who have more than me, financially speaking, and there will always be those who don't have as much as me, financially speaking.  I am "called" to love people and to me that means to genuinely love them.  To love their hearts, to talk to them, bring joy to their lives, tell them the Truth of God's word, to help lift their burdens, but ultimately point them to the only joy there is.......their eternal HOPE through Jesus Christ, God's son.  So hopefully everyone reading this blog understands where my heart is.......However, I do live on this Earth and God has given me a brain and a conscious, not to mention discernment to help me distinguish between right and wrong.  I believe  that at the young age of 48 I still have a lot to learn and will until the day I die, but I also believe that at the ripe old age of 48, I have enough life experience to preach a little and lament on things.

Allow me to lament a little.........I am sad that  half of our nation didn't choose to give a man with a proven record a chance to try to fix our economy.  I am sad that a wonderful, American made, family like the Romneys aren't going to be the famiily representing the United States of America.  I am sickened that half of our citizens still even give an ear to Bill Clinton, who doesn't know the difference between "having sex" and "having intercourse."  I am sad that our President sees the need to call his opponent a "BullShitter" to Rolling Stone magazine, just to achieve the cool factor.  I am sad that God was "booed" at the Democratic National Convention.  I am ticked that President Obama thinks that small business owners didn't "build their businesses."  I hate that 4 Americans were killed in Libya and that our leaders are flat out lying about the events that led to that.  I hate that Jay Z is cheered on like he is one who we should be inspired by.  It makes me sick that Joe Biden is our Vice President.  It is disturbing that President Obama is the most pro-abortion president in history and that women's issues focus on birth control and abortion.  All of this leading to  another bottom line........The leaders who were elected last night don't like me, they don't like anything that I stand for, and they don't like my family and most of my friends.  They don't even like our part of the country. Yet, I'm supposed to like and trust them?  Well, I don't.  

There are always, always,  always lessons to learn. My kids get so sick of this, but I'm forever saying, "what can we learn from this?"  Well, here goes that part.......and really this is to the next generation because they may not hear me now, but hopefully they will at some point.  Everyone has their most important lesson but here is mine.........NEVER let anyone else tell you what you should believe or how you should think.  Use your brain.  Research, study, ponder, talk to people you trust, and most importantly, pray, and then decide who you are and what you stand for.  Through your life, ask yourself this question every single day.  "What do I stand for?"    That's my most important lesson but I've got plenty of others:

2.  Do Not Lie.  Tell the truth.  If you will tell the truth you won't have to backtrack and "hem haw" and use the annoying filler word "Look" to get people's attention. Let people know that you will tell them the truth and then do it.

3.  You don't have to try to have the "cool factor."  You don't need swag or brag or bad language to be cool.  You are cool because you know who you are and what you stand for. 

4.  Do not give up on voting just because it's obvious that your vote doesn't count.  It might seem that way, but always vote.

5.  Quit blaming.  Are you kidding me that President Obama, and frankly half of the country, are still blaming the George W. Bush era for problems that have gotten worse over the past 4 years.  Take responsbility for your actions.  It's past time to figure out a way to fix problems. 

6.  There will be  those who look down on you because you are from the South.  They will make fun because you might be conservative, you might talk with an accent, and you might not drive a hybrid car.  NEVER EVER let these people make you feel like you are ignorant or narrow.  ALWAYS be proud of your Southern values. 

I will wrap it up today, but not in a tidy little package.  I'm mad, I'm disappointed, and I'm sick to my stomach.  I will pay my taxes and I will continue to influence my part of the world, but I will NEVER change my values.  I will never think it's right to abort babies, I will never think its right to lie and cover up,  and I will never look at how much money one has to determine what "class" they are in.  That's my story, and I'm stickin to it.

Honoring Mr. Benton......A teacher of Math and Life's Lessons

There are some days when its just a little harder to send your child out the door to school.  Today is one of those for me.  We are just finishing Fall Break and have enjoyed having friends over, sleeping late, making pancakes and just plain relaxing.  Back in the day, I didn't have Fall Break, but I can honestly say that our community has wholeheartedly embraced the idea of taking some time to time to  enjoy this beautiful season.  Lots of families take off for the mountains, some go to visit family, and some go to the beach.  Others, like us, just enjoy the beauty of being in Middle Tennessee.  It has also become a great time for college trips and school fieldtrips.  That's what some of our teachers and students did for Fall Break.  They took a wonderful trip to Williamsburg, Virginia.

My 8th grade son and I visited Williamsburg a few years ago when we went there for a baseball tournament so he decided to "pass" on this particular school trip.  But there were lots of kids and teachers who were excited to go.  Knowing 8th graders like I do, I'm sure the "educational value" was not their top reason for wanting to go.  The teachers, however, realized the huge educational value of actually visiting this piece of history and actually experiencing the sights and sounds "in person."  These teachers who choose to take their Fall Break to spend more time with their students also realize the importance of forming valueable relationships with their students.  They know that sometimes these kinds of memories can only be made through experiences out of the classroom.  These teachers see mostly every moment as a "teaching moment."   It gives teachers and students a chance to interact and learn about things other than "what's going to be on the test."  They get to learn about life. 

Every so often teachers come along that your child just "clicks with."  You know, from looking at their homework and their classwork, that your child is "getting it."   This is a very good thing when you have come to the realization that you can't begin to understand 8th grade math, much less explain how to do it.  It's been sortof a "flip" statement at our house that "none of our kids have math brains."  They have all struggled with math through the years.  What I knew deep down, because I experienced it in 9th grade, was that math can be understood, if taught right.  I had a 9th grade Algebra teacher,  Mrs. Martin, and she could flat out teach Algebra.  It all made sense, for whatever reason.  So I recognize a really good math teacher when I see one.  This year when I went to 8th grade Open House I was THRILLED to hear my son's math teacher talk about the methods he liked to use to teach math.  He had puzzles and games and a "hands on" approach to math.  I was so excited because, you know, our family doesn't really have "math brains."  Well guess what........my 8th grader does have a "math brain" and his teacher, Mr. Benton,  knew how to tap into it.  I have watched, daily I might add, the online assignments and grades and creative ways that Mr. Benton teaches math.  Such a change from the "traditional boring" way of teaching math.  So, without even knowing Mr. Benton, other than our brief Open House introduction,  I had grown to love the way he was making my son know that, yes, he does have a brain that can learn math........and understand it and have fun learning it.

Mr. Benton was one of those teachers who knew that experiences out of the classroom were every bit as important to a child's learning as the tedious experiences in the classroom.  He was on the Williamsburg trip this past weekend.  He had chosen to go and tour this historical place and enjoy sharing that learning experience with his students.  He had chosen to use his Fall Break to do this because he loved teaching and loved his students.  Because I didn't know him personally, I know all of this from FaceBook posts from previous students he had in California.  Students across the country and from a number of years ago were saying the same things about Mr. Benton that his currrent students were beginning to find out.  He was interested in his students' wellbeing.  He called them "kiddo" when they were talking.  He listened to them, which is sometimes difficult with Middle Schoolers.

Today was a hard day to send my 8th grader out the door to school because Mr. Benton won't be in his classroom.  While on the Fall Break trip to Williamsburg he suddenly fell ill and didn't survive.  Thirty three years old with a wife and little baby girl.  The other teachers who were on the trip had to make that long bus ride back knowing what they would be facing when they got back.  Meetings with parents, crying 8th grade students,  and their own questions of "how could this happen?"  Middle Schoolers are so resilient.  They will walk in the classroom and it will feel strange.....quiet and somber where there was so much learning and laughter.  They will be encouraged to "talk about their feelings" but we all know that's probably not going to happen, with the boys anyway.  Maybe with the girls.  What I hope is that the love of students and the love of learning that Mr. Benton portrayed will be carried on in the hearts of the students.  I hope that one day there will be some who become teachers because they knew how he was able to make math "come alive" for them.  I pray for the teachers and staff in our school as they not only continue to learn life's difficult lessons, but struggle to somehow try to answer the questions from the students.  I am so thankful for great teachers in the lives of our children.  They are fulfilling a calling that is so much bigger than a GPA or an ACT score.  These teachers are making "math brains" out of "non math brains."  When I sent my13 year old out the door today, I knew that he would be horrified to think that I would want to take him to school and walk through the day with him.  So I prayed for him and I prayed for our awesome teachers and staff who will face a difficult week ahead.  And I prayed for Mr. Benton's family, who I will never meet.  And I gently asked God to please send another talented caring math teacher to our school........because we honor Mr. Benton by realizing that we should finish what he so carefully and lovingly started. 

Saying "Goodbye" to Sylvan Park

One of my favorite things to do in life is "sit around and chat."  Friends and family have been known to get random calls or texts from me asking about going to lunch, playing cards, going to the beach, or coming over for a glass of wine on the screened in porch.  All of these are just "cover ups" for "Hey, let's get together and chat."   I would say that 99% of the time, it's just that.  Let's "chat" about whatever comes to mind.   Only 1% of the time is it to, let's say, "gripe."  I'm not a fan of high drama nor am I a fan of negative feelings.  Every so often I do feel the need, and so I will call and say, "I need to gripe."  I feel like I should warn my friends and family because most of the time this kind of talk "goes against the grain" for me.  Most of the time I will even ask for permission....."Can I gripe for just a minute?"  I am thankful for those who are willing to listen to me, for just a few minutes, and then move on.  These people know that I really don't want to dwell because I HATE negativity and prefer to look for the glass as "half full." 

I'm not sure when I discovered how much I loved "chatting sessions" but I think it might go back to having lunch with my Dad while I was in college.  He would call me when I was at Belmont and take me to lunch.  As a college student, I was always "up" for a free lunch, especially with my dad.  Back then the lunches were mostly about how my classes were going, how my money was holding out and he never let a lunch go by without asking about my friends and how each of them was doing.  Through the years these lunches have progressed to deeper conversations.  We have tackled the world's problems, we have discussed prophecy and truths from the Bible, we have talked about his upbringing and how it affected his life,  and countless other topics.  He still asks me about every one of my friends and now asks me about every one of my children.   These lunch dates have become FAR more than a free lunch and a "chat" with my dad.  They are now a time to hear more wisdom that money can buy and a time to reflect on life.  He so openly shares his thoughts and his life that it inspires me to do the same.

My dad started taking my boys and all of his grandchildren for lunch "chats" several years ago.  Sometimes he will take them "one on one" and other times he takes a group of two or three.  He realizes that the way to  their hearts, and their conversation, is through food.   Just like with me, he lets them pick the place and they can order whatever they want.  One very special place that they always pick is Sylvan Park Restaurant.   They can go there and get as many starches as they want and finish it off with chocolate pie and he never says a word.  In fact, it's expected.  Today, October 19th, 2012, is the last day for the orginal location of Sylvan Park to be opened.  The building is old and run down and they are closing it down for good.  A few weeks ago my sister, my Dad and I took three of the grandsons there for a final meal at this well loved part of our history.  While enjoying the delicious food there, the conversation quickly turned to my Dad telling all of us about growing up in Sylvan Park as a kid and how they used to go sledding on McCabe's Golf Course and then come to Sylvan Park for hot chocolate.  He recounted how the family who owned the restaurant lived in the house right behind the restaurant and how the gas station next door was owned by a "fishing buddy" of my grandfather's.  We heard about the "Blizzard of 51" and how people would go to Sylvan Park to eat because they couldn't drive anywhere, only walk.  I could have sat all day long and listened to these stories but the restaurant got so crowded that we felt compelled to give someone else our seats. 

These kinds of "chats" are worth more than silver or gold to me.  I commented to my dad that while it was special in the moment, I could see these four grandsons telling their kids about it one day and when they did,  it would mean a thousand times more.  That's just how it works.  I'm sure when my dad was getting hot chocolate there and sledding with his friends back in 1951 he had no idea what that would mean to him in 2012.  He had no idea that he would be eating with two of his daughters and three of his grandsons and recounting all of those precious memories.  I wouldn't trade the day that we had for anything.  I am thankful for these spontaneous moments that God gives us to recount what really matters in life and I am thankful for the older folks who take the time to convey their life's wisdom to us.  I am also thankful for my friends and family who love to "chat" with me.  May our lives be sweeter for the times we spent at Sylvan Park.

Why "Staying Quiet" isn't an option

Well, here we go.  I created this blogspot so that I could express my views, as a 48 year old female, and as someone who has experienced life and now has some things to say about it.  I've tried to be honest while reflecting on my experiences throughout my lifetime. I am also a Christian woman who is striving to love people well.  I have said over and over that I enjoy hearing everyone's side.  I love knowing where people are "coming from" even though I might have an entirely different perspective.  I could see myself sitting down daily with different groups from different backgrounds and discussing everything from politics to religion and enjoying every minute of it.  I rarely even get mad about other opinions because I enjoy the conversations and various talking points so much.  However, I do have my views and my opinions and freely express them.  I was watching "post debate commentary" with my 16 year old son last night and the commentator mentioned that "women would not look favorably at  all of the interrupting that the candidates were doing during the debate."  My son says to me, "I feel like you like the arguments and don't mind the interrupting."  To which I replied that I can't stand rude interruptions, but I do LOVE a good debate.    Southern women do not interrupt and we always say "Please and Thank you."

Now, here is my first thought.  Maybe others don't feel this way,  but I'm a little offended, no very offended,  at the way women are still being looked at in this election season.  The fact that we are a "voting block" rubs me the wrong way.  Because I live with 4 men in the house I do realize that women are from Venus and men are from Mars, or vice versa.  We most definitely have our differences.  But really.  Are all women really that concerned with how our birth control methods will be paid for?  When considering a person for President of the most powerful country in the world, that never even enters my mind.  I'm thinking back to my more "fertile" days when it might have mattered and honestly,  it still never ever entered my mind that my health insurance plan would or would not pay for my birth control.  If I remember correctly, a package of BC pills used to cost around $20/month which is a heck of a lot cheaper than having a baby and raising it to adulthood.  I think it's SHALLOW that so much emphasis is placed on this point.  If you want to talk about equality then lets talk equality.  Let's be honest about this.  Until young men are raised to respect what is on the inside of a woman and not just on the outside, we will have a big problem with inequality.  I am a white, educated, part time working mother of three teenage sons, and I'm from the South.  Believe me, I know inequality when I see it.    

Issues that I am interested in hearing about include educating our children, providing jobs for all kinds of people with all kinds of talents and gifts,  making healthcare more affordable to working people but giving them the freedom to choose through the free market, and tax equality for EVERYONE!!!!  I'm sick to death about hearing about the "middle class."  What exactly is that?  My 16 year old asked me if we are part of the middle class?  Who would know and who cares?  The world and specifically our country is made up of all kinds of "classes."  I don't know which one we fit into and don't care at all.  This, in my opinion, is simply a way of forcing people to ask themselves "which class am I in?"  Stupid?  Yes.  What we should be asking ourselves is "What are my God given gifts and how can I use them for His glory?"  Now, some people are given gifts and they use those gifts to make lots of money.  If they are using these gifts correctly then they are using this money to create jobs, give back to society and take care of their families.  The way I see it, Mitt Romney has used his gifts to do all of these.  To characterize this man as a liar and a cheater who is rich and doesn't pay his fair share just insults my intelligence and screams, SCREAMS,  of "class warfare."  The man gave away a HUGE percentage of his earnings to charity.  He created a HUGE number of jobs along the way, and he has no reason whatsoever to lie about anything.

Here is another thought that keeps just nagging.  There is cover up and lying going on in this entire Libya debacle.  So what if Mitt Romney "missed his chance" at nailing President Obama to the wall concerning when or what context the word "terror" was used re: these attacks.  To think that the administration was totally "in the dark" about the requests for more security at the embassy is a joke.  To think that they didn't know that the total lie that was told about the supposed protest over a muslim youtube was  because "information was still coming in?"  That is also an insult to me.  To think that they can try to make me, a woman, believe this and then passify me by telling me they will help me pay for my birth control is demeaning, to say the least.  Here is my response to the whole bunch, "You are lying.  You are covering up.  You did go to Las Vegas and The View while doing all of this.  I don't believe you, no matter how tough you might try to appear.  And thanks but no thanks, I can handle my own birth control."

Last point, for today, at least.  I know that God is in control.  I am FULLY aware of that.  My life shows me that every single day.  I also know that God allows kings and kingdoms to rise and fall and always has.  If you read your Bible you know that God allowed plenty of wicked kings to rule.  So, should the current administration be elected again, I'm still going to get up every morning and send my children to school.  My husband and I will still go to work and pay the enormous amount of taxes that we pay.  We will still use our gifts to benefit our community and our family.  We will still support our military and our country.  What I refuse to do is go down without a fight or give up my freedom of speech.  I think that there are people who don't feel comfortable speaking out for what is right, and that is fine.  But I feel uncomfortable in my Spirit letting things "slide."  There is a very obvious line between "sketchy" and "honorable."  It is not a fine line and it is not hard to see unless one simply refuses to see it.  I know I am a woman and maybe some only see me as a voting block, but history has shown that women are more than just a discussion about birth control and abortion.  I am proud to be in the Romney/Ryan camp.  That's my story and I'm stickin to it!!!!

Amazing Love.....How Can it Be?

My blog today is about my God who is faithful.  He is big enough to deal with my questions.  He is patient enough to let me rant and rave to Him.  He is present enough to be there to hear me when I wake several times in the night.  He is strong and wise enough to force me to depend on Him for answers.  He is sweet enough to surround me with friends and family who smile at me and offer encouraging words when they read my face and eyes and know that my forced smile is fake.  He is gracious enough to recognize my issue, which is HUGE in my mind, and make it His........even though He has lots of bigger problems to take care of.  He is strict enough to make me wait on Him.  To not give me answers immediately but to teach me patience, which is hard for me.  He is even good during these times.  He blesses me with texts, songs, and scriptures to get me through the waiting time. (Yes, I mean texts on the phone.)   Then when I question Him and His perfect plan, He listens.  I can feel Him listening.  I know that He is listening because He promises me that He is there even in the night when everyone else is sleeping.  "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalms 4:8

Another thing that my God and Father does is that He gives me discernment when I need it.  When I say to Him, "Tell me what to say......show me what to do."  Guess what.....He does.  When that sense of dread settles in and my stomach hurts He sends peace that says "Wait.....I'm still working."  I don't know why I ever doubt it.  Time and time again He has been faithful.  Health scares, financial hardship, always faithful.  I could write for hours and days about His faithfulness to me.   This is the wonderful thing about being a solid 48 years old.  I can look back over years of answered prayer and unanswered prayers and know that I know that I know, that He keeps His promises and that "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  Guess what else my Father does for me.  He gives me wisdom.....just because I asked.  I specifically remember asking Him for wisdom when I was in college just because the preacher said that if we asked, God promised He would give it.  So I thought, what the heck, I'll ask.  "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."  James 1:5   

I think that Satan is cunning and sly.  He looks for ways to trip us up.  He looks for ways to make us doubt the goodness of our Father.  He slams us when we least expect it.  He is like an abusive father who picks the times when we are happy and content and feeling full of blessings and he punches us.  He knocks us down and hits below the belt.  He causes people to throw the "Christian" arrows at us, causing us to question, even for a minute, "Is God really all that He says He is?  Does He care?  Is He present?"  Well I'm here to tell the "doubters" that He is all that He promised He would be.  He will never leave or forsake me.  I've got so many scriptures that I claim for myself and my family.  I continually remind God, "You promised so and so. You said in your word that you would so and so."  I'm sure at times He would like to say to me "You of little tiny faith."  But he doesn't......He continues to be faithful and good and patient and loving.   He is the Alpha and Omega my ever present Help.  So of all the scriptures that I will stand on for today here are my two........ 

"In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation." Psalms 5:3 

 "Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  Isaiah 40:30

Memories from 9/11/2001

It was eleven years ago that my generation experienced something that we had never experienced before.  September 11, 2001, was a day that I will never forget as long as I live.  We started our day just as most people did.......crawling out of bed, taking kids to school, and getting ready for work.  I was at home with Max and Battle had taken the other two to school.  He called, from the truck, to alert me to what was happening.  I hurried to change the channel from Teletubbies just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower.  To this day I can still feel the panic and shock in the voices of the news anchors as they were trying to grasp what they were seeing in their own city, right outisde their windows, and calmly explain it to the American public.  Even today I can still feel the disbelief as I watched the first tower disintigrate to ash and rubble right before everyone's eyes.  I remember feeling alone in my house with only my two year old playing in the next room.  I remember standing in my bedroom watching Tower 1 fall and saying out loud, "Oh God, Oh God."  (I had always been taught not to take God's name in vain and I remember wondering for a half a second if this is what it feels like to do that.)  It wasn't.  Just like everyone else in times of desperation I uttered the only words I knew to passify my Spirit.  "Oh God."  I called my Dad to look for answers and he offered me one word, "Pray."  I realized that I had already been doing that from the moment I saw the plane hit the second tower. 

We all have our stories of how we spent that day watching the news reports as they came  in explaining how the Pentagon had been attacked and how the terrorists had hijacked another airplane to fly into the White House.  I could personally tell my kids the story over and over and over because it seems so fresh to me.  I don't know how counselors and psychologists would advise on "moving on" or "healing from that day" but something in me wants to keep the story alive.  I don't want to move on.  I want the morning shows to open their programs with videos of the morning of 9/11/2001.  Then I want interviews with the families of the victims.  I want to see Todd Beamer's wife tell the story of "Let's Roll" and see how his child,  that he never got to meet, is now honoring his father.  I want to see stories of the firefighters who walked into the buildings knowing in their hearts that they would not come out.  Then I want to see stories about how we have rebuilt our Towers to reach higher than they were before just to show the terrorists that they won't ever bring us down.  I want my boys and all the people who are too young to grasp the effects it had to see these images over and over and over again.  I want  them to be mad at what happened to our country that day.  I want them to feel the anger that we all felt and the pride that came after the anger.  It was the one time that I can remember that God was invited to all platforms.  I hate it that it took a day like 9/11 to bring our country together and to it's knees.  I don't care who you were, what religion you had, what political party you were a member of........I bet most people uttered the same words I did, "Oh God."  Most, like me, realized in that moment that evil, Satan, was still prowling and roaring and to some it appeared that he was winning.

 I remember going to church the following Sunday and the congregation sang "A Mighty Fortress is our God."  We started to sing these words...."The Prince of Darkness grim, We tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo his doom is sure.  One little word shall fail him." As I sang those words I knew the song well enough to know what the next verse said.  I was ready because I knew what the "one little word was."  Then we sang the final verse, "Dost ask who this may be, Christ Jesus it is He......Lord Saboth, His name.  And age to age the same......and He has won the battle." It was then and there that I grew up in so many ways.  My faith grew stronger, my vision was clearer and I became bolder. Not only was I proud to be an American but I was proud to be a Christian American.  President Bush went on TV to talk about security and how we could feel "safe" as Americans.  We went to war, we closed down airports, we implemented Homeland Security, we did all kinds of things so everyone would feel safe.  Well on a day like today, when so many images continue flooding back, I have determined that none of these things make me feel safe.  I'm still afraid to fly, I think airport security is a pain in the behind,  and even though Osama Bin Laden is dead there are still other terrorists lurking.   My safety comes from the last verse of that hymn that we sung that Sunday morning eleven years ago..... the one little word that will always obliterate Satan.  "Christ Jesus it is He...........age to age the same.........He has won the battle."  And so today, eleven years later at 8:58 am, I am secure in my prayer, "Oh God, Oh God......THANK YOU, for coming for me Christ Jesus.  And THANK YOU for winning the battle." 

Living with "Weak Eyes."

 If  you know me well, you are aware of the problems that I have had with my eyes since the day I was born.  I was born with crossed eyes.  I'm talking crossed to the extent of totally touching my nose.......both eyes.  Not just one eye, but both eyes.  Now there is a theory about why this might have happened.  When my mom was pregnant with me she was taking dinner to someone and fell while walking down a hill in this other lady's yard.  Supposedly, that might have caused my eyes to cross.  I don't believe this is how it happened.  I was looking though old family pictures one day and discovered that my great grandmother had severely crossed eyes.  I remember thinking how sad it must have been to have crossed eyes in the days before eye surgery or corrective glasses.  For most, the picture might look funny.  For me, it was sad.  But, it did provide the answer that I was looking for........my crossed eyes were not caused from my mom falling on a hill but were most likely genetic.

I have heard several stories thoughout my life but two specific stories are always told  about how people reacted to my eyes.  One has to do with the time my mom took my sister and me to the grocery store.  My sister loved me and had probably gotten used to the way I looked but she got a little defensive when two little boys pointed and laughed at her baby sister.  The story goes that she said to my mom, "We don't care about her eyes.......we love her anyway."  The other story has to do with the time my mom took me to have my baby picture made and the photographer went to drastic measures to rearrange me on the blanket so my eyes wouldn't show.  Ummmm.....that didn't go over too well with my mother.  She instructed him to take the picture with my entire face showing.....crossed eyes and all.  Thank goodness she did because I was a happy and beautiful baby, if I do say so myself.  When I was old enough to start looking at the songbook at church my mom noticed that I was turning my head and only using one eye to look at the page.  At this point in my young life I already wore glasses to straighten out my crossed eyes but now my mother noticed that I had a "lazy eye."  Diagnosed as ambliopia.  At this point I started wearing a patch over my strong eye which enabled my "lazy eye" to get stronger.  My mother also took me to eye therapy several times per week to work with a sweet lady to increase my eye strength.  We would go down to Baptist Hospital to the MidState Medical building and see Mrs. Peeples and then go walk around the drugstore in the lobby.  It was a big, I mean a HUGE deal, when I got to go to Milams Optical to get new glasses.  Major day for fashion.  When I was a little older I started to get a little paranoid about my eyes when we would go swimming.  My glasses helped straighten my eyes but when I took my glasses off, not only could I not see but my eyes would cross.  Not good at all for a young girl who wanted to look good at the swimming pool.  My first "muscle" surgery was when I was in the 3rd grade and my second was in the 8th grade.  By the time I got to college and my right eye was starting to get "tired" again.  I'd pass my roommates in the hallway of the dorm and they would immediately know if I didn't have my contact lens in because I would only recognize them by their voices.  Couldn't see two feet in front of my hand.  My friends would say "are you getting tired?" when my eye started to draw in.  The worst was when I started teaching school and I would ask a student a question and they would turn around to see who I was looking at.  I was definitely NOT focusing.  So, before my wedding in 1992, I had my 5th surgery on my eyes.  During college I was lucky enough to have the prelasik surgery called "radial keratodomy."  After this surgery I had 20-20 vision.  I'm telling you, it was a dream come true.  I'm not kidding.  One of the best days of my life.

"Oops, you shouldn't hide those pretty eyes."

"I'll smile prettier if you show my entire face."

There are so many lessons I have learned about myself because I have had "bad eyes" for most of my life.   I know that my ears are ultra-sensitive.  I can remember almost everything I hear.  Ask anyone, I remember trivial details, words from songs, entire conversations with no problem.  I can also decipher "mumbles under the breath" with great accuracy.  While I'm not "good at remembering faces" I am extraordinary at "remembering voices." This is probably because when I was very young I developed the ability to smile at you and then listen for your voice to determine who you were.  Back in the day, this was not considered "special needs" but it might be today.  At the time I didn't know I was learning this lesson, but I learned to depend greatly on people helping me to see what I needed to see.  My sister was constantly "watching out for me" when I was walking along usually stepping in holes, missing curbs, and of course, not knowing who certain people were.  This continues to today, only now my really good friends and my husband can read my expression which says, "Nope, not registering."  So I have a whole host of helpers now.  By the way, I take my turn at using my talent of remembering all things auditory to help them out on occasion.  One last lesson, which I feel is the most important, is that I learned a long time ago to laugh at myself.  To not take myself too seriously.  If I had gotten my feelings hurt everytime I tripped over something, ran into a sliding glass door, or mistook someone for someone else, I would be down and out all of the time.  It's so much easier to just laugh and go on, although my Dad and Husband stopped laughing long ago at my driving mishaps.  My "problem" isn't a new one.  I don't remember how old I was but for some reason I read this passage in Genesis 29:16-18.  It was just three little verses and very few words but I remember the smile I forced on my face while feeling the pit in my stomach, "Now Laban had two daughters, the name of the older was Leah and the name of the younger was Rachel.  Leah had weak eyes, but Rachel was lovely in form, and beautiful.  Jacob was in love with Rachel."  Well, I determined that day, above all days, that Leah was just as beautiful as Rachel and I would be too.  Thank God for parents, friends, sisters, and a husband who have validated that beauty since the day I was born with my weak eyes.  And by the way "YOU ROCK, LEAH!!!!"

I'll Wear a Few Labels

I don't know if it's all the recent changes in our household or middle age hormones but lately  I've had this wierd sense of defending motherhood and women in general.  It seems like everywhere I turn,  my ears are especially sensitive to issues with mothers, grandmothers, single women, married women with no children, women from all walks of life.  My senses are heightened when I'm listening to the radio, watching TV, shopping in Target, or talking to friends.  I wonder why?  I wonder if it's because I've just turned my first born loose on a large college campus and so with one less chick in the nest I am a little more introspective.  I wonder if it's because everywhere I go I run into other moms who are experiencing the same feelings.  Maybe it's because friends have mothers who are very ill and the roles of mom and child are reversed.  Possibly it's because both presidential candidates are going for the "women's votes" that I'm bombarded by "women's issues."

These feelings didn't just begin, let me assure you.  I've been protective of women and mothers for a very long time.  I have a house full of boys who love to eat, love to have clean clothes, love to have their sweet backs scratched, love fresh cookies out of the oven after school and love ESPN.  They are not so big on shopping, long conversations on the phone, or TV shows that I prefer.  This mom has learned to absolutely savor the rare Sunday lunch conversations, the quick trips to the mall, and the long awaited phone calls.  I have also learned to love football, cooking, and most of all, the lovely friends that they bring home.  There is one thing that I have learned to tolerate, even occasionally join in on, just because in my soul I know it's never going to change..........potty talk.  I feel that I'm especially qualified to protect and advocate for our special club of "boy moms."  In fact, as badly as I hate labels, there are two that I proudly wear......."Boy Mom" and "Middle Child." 

I love watching "The View" because as I've said before, I love hearing all kinds of opinions on things.  I love knowing where other people are "coming from."   Yesterday Dwayne Wade, the famous basketball player, was on with his mother, who is a recovering drug addict.  I was drawn in by her story and even more by her courage to tell her story.  She explained so clearly how she wanted so badly to be a good mother but because of the drugs felt like a failure, which in turn led her back to her best friend for comfort....the drugs.  She credited her 91 year old praying mother who never turned her away.  Her words, "my mother laid me on the alter every time she went to church and the Lord heard her prayers."  So even when Dwayne Wade's mother didn't have the strength to ask for help the Lord knew the desires of her heart.   He also honored her sweet mother for "standing in the gap" for her daughter.  What a great story.  I kept rewinding my DVR because it was such a testimony of the power of strong women and God's love of them.

Last week I loved hearing Ann Romney speak at the Republican National Convention.  I was so proud of my fellow "boy mom" and how she so eloquently showed how women from all walks of life have very tough jobs.  Whether you are single, married,  stay at home mom, career woman, grandmother, whatever.  You know the heart of a woman.  We don't need to be labeled because we know that no matter what label we wear on a specific day, we ALWAYS wear the label of being a "woman."  Soft place to land, quiet strength when called for,  wisdom in the middle of a storm, balance between being passive or aggressive. Well,  I was happily reflecting on how beautifully and honestly Ann Romney spoke about these things when it happened.........Some news analyst says, "I think she sounded like what she is, a corporate wife."  WHAT??????  Did I hear that right?  This guy is TOAST.   As I'm rewinding the DVR to listen again, all I can hear from the kitchen is "Uh Oh."  My poor husband was bracing for my rant.  What exactly is a "corporate wife?"  Are you kidding?  All I could think of was how many loads of stinky laundry has Ann Romney done?  How many nights has she stayed awake with sick children?    How many nights has she stayed up late doing projects and homework with those beautiful boys she has? How many early mornings has she had getting them to school?   How many conversations has she had with her successful husband about his day at work or his next step in life?  I wonder how many times they remembered to tell her "thanks you" and when they didn't, she didn't care.   Quiet Strength?  It wasn't very quiet that night.

Just this morning I was reading Robin Roberts tribute to her wonderful Godly mother.  I loved Michelle Obama's  title of "Mom-in Chief."  I thought of Dwayne Wade's "Born Again" mother and his praying grandmother  and  I was calm in my Spirit.  I will always be protective of women and mothers because I think that's how God is.  I think it is obvious that He knows our hearts and how difficult it is for us to strike a balance between soft and strong.   I don't think that God sees his special creation of women as rich, poor or "middle class."   Proverbs 31:10-31 say it best but my favorite part for today is "Her children arise and call her blessed.  her husband also, and he praises her.  Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." 

Sermons in the Car

When I think back on some of the "tapes" that play in my head.....you know, the mantras that you heard throughout your childhood, there are a few that come to mind.  Now that I'm older it's fun and revealing to think about which ones of those actually "stuck."  Admittedly, some were the proverbial "in one ear and right out the other."  Others not only stuck but legitimately shaped the way I viewed myself and others.  Believe me, there were MANY lessons to be learned.  Sermons, we used to call them.  I am positive that in the not too distant future, my kids will either be writing about or reminiscing  on all of the sermons they were forced to listen to from me.  It always happens at the dinner table or in the car.  Somewhere where it's impossible to escape.  I love it......History repeating itself.  One of the things I never ever liked.......getting a sermon from my mom in the car........and now I'm doing it.  Of course, we moms don't consider it a sermon.  We prefer to think of it as a "lesson" or "quality conversation."

Back to the "tapes" in my head.  If I've heard it once, I've heard it a hundred times....."Nobody is better or worse than anyone else.  We all put our pants on one leg at a time.  That's what Granddaddy Jenkins used to say."  See, there ya go.  Childhood lessons passed down from generation to generation.  I grew up hearing it and now that I'm grown I believe it and live it.  Never thought I'd say it but that is one sermon that I am so thankful for.  It "stuck." It's nice not carrying an extra chip on my shoulder or worrying about what someone from the other side of the track is doing or not doing.  It would get so old to try and keep up or look down, whichever way you might want to look at it.

Last week I got the chance to have "quality conversation" in the car with my son.  Not sure he knew he was about to get the sermon but hey, he led me right into it.  He happened to ask me about why everyone was bent out of shape over Vice-President Biden saying to a group "they gonna put ya'll back in chains."  He truly didn't understand what all the fuss was about.  My mind went to all kinds of answers.  I obviously wanted to start with slavery and come forward but since I only had about five more minutes in the car I had to make it a mini sermon.  So I resorted to my "tape."  "We all put our pants on one leg at a time.  No human is better or worse than the next. God created us all and loves us all."  That answer wasn't good enough.  "I know that, Mom, but what do the chains have to do with it?"  New lesson.  Hmmmm.  Thinking cap on.....Lightbulb moment!!   My child didn't understand or fathom the whole "class warfare" concept.  He didn't "get" the joke.  He thought it was mean.  My point is not a political one really.  My point is that each generation in our country has evolved into something different than the one before them.   It made me wonder about how much his generation will get "caught up" in skin color, social status, educational hierarchy, etc......  I was looking at my 13 year old who hasn't been exposed to "class warfare" and I thought about how I wanted to protect him from this kind of thinking that goes completely against what Granddaddy Jenkins had been preaching 75 years ago.  "Don't think of yourself as better or worse than anyone else."  In the span of about three minutes that I had left I told him that I was "offended" by the comments because it implied that the "white man" conservative was going to put the "black man" liberal back in "chains," figuratively speaking.  I told him that it had nothing to do with politics but everything to do with going backwards socially from where we had worked so hard to get to.  I made sure to close my 3 Point Sermon with the fact that we are ALL created equal and if you are my son then you should know that "everyone puts their pants on the same, one leg at at time."  It's freeing to be satisfied and content with the "track" that God has placed you on.  It's nice to be happy for those on the other side of  "the track" from you.  I think I will continue to rewind the tape of this lesson for my kids.   I think Granddaddy Jenkins would be proud.

Looking Back

The first part of the morning has come and gone and I'm taking time to sit and reflect on the morning.  Since today is only a "half day," the second part of the morning is still to come.  The first day of school comes with such anticipation.  New school supplies, new teachers, new clothes, new experiences.  But the old fears, memories, familiar stomach aches, are still present for many students, not to mention their moms and dads.  I've heard it described as the "smell" in the halls.  The "smell" of school.  To some it's exciting and fun, to others scary and boring.  It doesn't matter how healthy your breakfast was, how much sleep you got the night before or how many smiling teachers are there to welcome you at the door.  The jitters still remain. 

There are certain traditions that families have on the first day of school.  It's my rule that I drive you to school, walk in to meet your teacher and take a picture.  Well, this year I only got to drive one and would have been left by myself to wander the halls if I had tried to walk in to meet teachers.  I love the way my 8th grader tried to soften the blow of this.....Me: "Do you want me to walk in with you and meet your homeroom teacher?"  Him: "NO!!!"   Well, then.

As I drove my 8th grader to school, we had the greatest conversation.  After talking about the basics like how he needed to focus and begin strong,  we then got down to the nitty gritty.  It's very important to pack your backpack the night before and put your shoes by the door so you're not scrambling to get out the door.  We also talked about other things that 8th grade boys should remember but moms can't mention on blogsites or they get in trouble.  I mentioned to him that there would be some students who came to school with nervous stomachs and butterflies just because that's what school does to some.  We talked about how a smie and "how's your first day going?" might help.  So,  there he went.  Waved goodbye and into 8th grade.  Never looked back.  I, on the other hand, couldn't help but look back.  I looked back to all of the "first days of school" in my life.  How my mom ALWAYS had us ready for the first day of school.  We had hit up the JP Brown Drugstore for our supplies and we had gone to Castner Knott for new clothes.  We lived right by our school so we always walked to school.  She didn't have to get in the never ending traffic but she always "watched" until we made it to the corner.  As I was leaving the parking lot, sitting in traffic, I looked back to the years I had spent at the elementary school and middle school.  I looked back to taking all three boys in, to three different hallways, and lingering on the last one because, well I knew it was the last.  I saw in my my mind all of the incredible teachers who would patiently smile as I took the dreaded pictures of the kids at their desks.   I looked back in my mind and saw my friend who never failed to have her children ready and organized for the first day of school, and who would not be here this year.  I thought of the mom dropping her 8th grader off for school this morning, but missing her high school son who would not start school today.   Snapshots.....some you wouldn't trade for anything and others that hurt to look at.   So to the special teachers who have worked SO hard to make this day special, "THANK YOU!"   To the moms and dads who have shopped, fretted and filled out countless forms, "BLESS YOUR HEART."   And most of all to our families who are doing this in a new and far from normal way this year........."We love you and you are always in our hearts." 

Life is challenging sometimes.  The ups and downs, good days and bad,  dreams achieved and dreams shattered.  With my deep faith and my "glass half full" personality, I have been able to teach myself how to cope with the lights and darks of life.  You know, the "big things".

 I was never one to cry when dropping my child off for his first day of kindergarten.  I think I was the only one who came out of the theater after seeing "The Passion of the Christ" with dry eyes.  My feeling is that when people say, "Oh you are going to ball your eyes out," I immediately think to myself, "that's what you think." .......and I start to build what I call "the wall."  If someone has told me that I am supposed to cry, then by golly, I'll show them that they are wrong.  If you are a "40 something" woman, then you know that once the waterworks start, there ain't no stopping it.  I'm talking about red nose, red eyes, snotty face..... pile of mess.  If "the wall" isn't up and the tears start, you might as well get out a box of kleenex and 2-3 advil and plan for a nap afterwards.  I have become very very good at "building the wall."  Even pride myself on being bluntly realistic.  Can state the facts with no problem.......if I know the facts.  It's when those "facts" are blurry or you are caught off guard that the wall becomes impossible to construct, much less stand.

The past few weeks and months have been like that.  Close friends, family with terrible terminal illnesses.  My son's "senior year" and leaving the nest.   Moving from the home we lived in for ten years where wonderful memories were made with my children and our neighbors.  The kinds of events that I can "handle" because I know what is going to happen and what to expect.  Wall built.......stating reality as it is..........moving on with glass half full.  That's me.   It's when the unexpected happens......you get the call that a wonderful friend has died.  You get a picture on your phone of a man you hardly recognize because chemo has been so cruel to his body.  You hear about families splitting apart and you wish you  could just rewind time and put them back together.

Right when I have the wall built and everything under control, God once again reminds me that I don't and I will NEVER have everything in a nice neat box.   Mothers have a special unique way of doing just like Mary,  the mother of Jesus did........."but his mother treasured all these things in her heart." (Luke 2:51)  I can think back over the years and have glimpses of times that I am positive only a mother can have.  Glimpses of dropping a screaming son off in the cradle roll class at church, only to open my eyes and realize that we are attending our last Sunday service before he leaves for college.  Glimpses of making a crying son get out of the car to go to a much dreaded football practice, only to open my eyes and realize that God had a plan going on even then.  Glimpses of pictures and notes written to "Jesus" in HUGE writing  by another son, only to look around at him backing out of the driveway in the car.    These are the unexpected times when there is no "wall" big enough or strong enough. You don't really mind the kleenex and the Advil because you ponder these moments.  They hit you when you aren't quite ready.  But you close your eyes and treasure these moments because that's what Moms do and they always will. 




   

"My Pleasure"

Well, here goes.  I'm going to address the whole Chick fil A debate and be as brutally honest as I can be.  Afterall, that's why I created my blog.  Not for everyone to agree with me but to have a way of putting my feelings down and generating a mature conversation.  Who knows, in five years I might look back at all of these postings and kick myself for things said or left unsaid.  But for now, "It's My Story and I'm Stickin To It." 

Let me begin by saying that Chick- fil-A has become one of the only "fast food" restaurants I will go to because once you are over 40, well, McDonalds and Krystal don't always "agree" with you.  So, I love Chick-fil-A because their food, especially their chicken salad on whole wheat, is really pretty good.   I have always loved how the servers are clean cut, no droopy pants, no hair in their eyes, and clearly speaking, in English, "My Pleasure."  Call me "outdated" but all of these things mean a lot to and old Southern gal like me.  To be honest, the reasons I keep returning to Chick-fil-A are all because of good food and clean, wholesome service.  The fact that they are closed on Sunday is something to be admired but really, a few times that has totally  messed our family up.   In fact, I have been known to pull into their empty parking lot on a Sunday and shout, "who closes on SUNDAY???!!!"   I have been known to check out every Chick-fil-A bathroom between Franklin and Destin, because I've always heard that if the bathrooms are clean, the kitchen is clean.   I've been known to send many emails to the Chick-fil-A headquarters bragging about their service and food.  (Those of you who know me realize that I'm doing this primarily so they will send me coupons.)    Clearly, I am a Chick-fil-A gal and proud of it.

I have gone back and read and re-read the statements made by the CEO of Chick-fil-A re: gay marriage, traditional values, arrogant generation, etc.....  I would like to say that I have mixed feelings or that I am torn by the whole debacle.  But I am not.  It has LONG been a pet peeve of mine that anyone thinks they should tell me how to think.  I believe that I am entitled to my own opinions, whether you agree with me or not.  

My feeling is that the man is a citizen of the United States where he has freedom of speech.  He has the right to say whatever the heck he wants to say. However,  like everyone else, including me, he also will suffer consequences for using that right.  Whatever "side" you are on when it comes to any issue....... be it political, spiritual, liberal or conservative, you take a risk when you open yourself up and proclaim your beliefs.  Who remembers what the Dixie Chicks went through when Natalie Maines spoke up about President Bush?   Who remembers what Charlton Heston went through when he spoke up about gun rights?  Whether we agree or disagree, these people have the right to speak their opinions.  The fact that the Chick-fil-A CEO is being slammed should come as no surprise.  Next thing you know, he will get death threats on Twitter and the National Guard will be called out to  Chick-Fil-A stores, all disguised in cow suits.   I know that the people for and the people against gay marriage see this as a way to "make their point."  And I respect that.  I respect the fact that everyone has a right to their view.  In fact, I have mine......I love going to Chick-fil-A............I love my friends, both gay and not gay...........I love my freedom of speech........in fact, I love the freedom to have this conversation.  I love the fact that Dan Cathy, the CEO, has his views on traditional marriage and was obviously willing to take the consequences of stating his views.  But no......I won't be protesting Chick-fil-A.  In fact, if I ever go back to Boston I will miss not having one there in which to eat.......Oh, and by the way, I never protested the Dixie Chicks, either.  Love their music.  And it is a  WELL KNOWN fact  how I feel about "W."

So go eat at Chick-fil-A if you feel like it......heck, crank up some Dixie Chicks on the way there.......Lighten up and look at some bigger issues going on in the world.  Be thankful that you can have the choice of sweet or unsweet.......and don't forget  you can trade the toy in for soft serve icecream.  Enjoy the little things........when someone says "thank you" to you today. simply say,  "My Pleasure."

"NOT GUILTY"

This past week I have seen images on TV that I will stick with me for a long time.  Images of a disturbed young man who calls himself "the joker."  Another image of a bronze statue of a football icon being taken down.......that reputation, shattered.  Images of innocence lost.......evil prevailing.  Yet there was one image that kept nagging at me.  I hate to say it, but while my heart was pondering the sadness and despair of the world's events, my brain was starting to become desensitized to the images.  For whatever reason my brain wouldn't let go of the brief image I saw one day, amidst all of the sad ones. 

When I think of the word "free" all kinds of images come to my mind.  Freedom is sometimes a political word.  A word to get me all stirred up and patriotic.  On the other hand, the word "guilty" puts me on the defense.  "It wasn't my fault.....Not going to take the blame for that one.......Not guilty."  How would you feel if you were wrongly accused of not just any crime, but murder.  Would you rant and rave and declare your innocence to anyone who would listen?  Of course you would.  We all would.  You would want to "clear your name."  Afterall, what do we tell our children....."At the end of the day, all you have is your good name."  William Dillon was sent to prison when he was 21 years old.  Convicted of killing another person.  He spent 27 years in prison before being declared NOT GUILTY with the help of the Innocence Project.  It's a long long story but basically he was convicted on DNA evidence and it wasn't his DNA.  He was an aspiring baseball player when he was convicted at age 21, so when he was freed from prison one of his requests was that he be allowed to sing the National Anthem at a a Major League Baseball game.

The image that keeps nagging at me is what he proudly displayed on his shirt.  Two words right across his heart proudly declaring "NOT GUILTY."  The man has spent over half of his life behind bars convicted of a crime that he was innocent of.  It doesn't go unnoticed that he didn't lose faith in his country......only in the justice system that failed him.  So I have been asking myself all week why this short little "blip" that I saw on the news keeps popping up in my mind.  It's the "NOT GUILTY" that he so proudly wore across his heart for the world to see and witness.  His name is clear, his concious is clear, his reputation is clear, his record is clear.  And he wants everyone to know it.

 I want to wear that mantra across my heart every day.  I want to display it with pride just like William Dillon did when he sang of the "land of the free and the home of the brave."  What if we all boldly stated and lived  the fact that as Christians "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me FREE from the law of sin and death.  For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offereing." Romans 8:1-3 

Because my sin was paid for by an innocent man I want a t-shirt like that to wear every single day.

"NOT GUILTY"