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    7/3/2007

    Happy Birthday,America

    How much do you love your country?  How much do you love being an American?  How many of you even stop and think about it?  I do.  A lot.  I look at our flag, and I get goose bumps.  So much history, passion, resolve and love went into the founding, the fighting, and the decisions that formed this country, and ultimately, who we are.  I am an AMERICAN!!! And, I am in awe that God would allow me to live in this time, in this place...now.  Who am I to deserve so much?  Who am I to live here, instead of somewhere else in the world?  I have 4 brother-in-laws that fought and served in the Vietnam War.  My younger brother served in The Gulf War, Operation Desert Storm.  My uncle served in Korea,as did a very dear friend.  I am proud to know them, to be a part of their lives, and especially, for what they did, for what they've gone through, and for who they are because of serving their country.  I am apalled that anyone would critize the current war, or our soldiers; to do so is to offend those who keep us safe.  I believe in this country.  To all of those who are critical of its' government and its' citizens...go live somewhere else if you're unhappy here.  More than likely, it won't be long 'til you're homesick.  So....it is with great pride and honor that I say, "Happy Birthday, America!"  God Bless the USA.
    10/31/2005

    Several Things

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    Good evening...Happy Boo-day to you all!  Hope no superstitious black cats have been lurking around...
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    The song, "Your Love", is sung by Michelle Wright, accompanied by Jim Brickman.  I love listening to Jim Brickman.  I remember the first time I heard this CD.  I was at work, at Lucent.  This song came on, and I called Kevin on the phone, and held my headphones up to the earpiece so he could hear the song...then I told him that this was how I felt about him.  Isn't it funny what memories a song will bring back???  Oh, by the way.  If a song ever annoys you, just hit the "Esc" key, and it'll stop.
     
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    It's been a while since I've written.  It's not that I haven't wanted to, you understand...it's just that.  I don't know.  I don't know WHAT it is.  There's so much I want to share, to express, but it's all locked away in that secret part of my heart that doesn't want to let it go, I guess.  Feelings.  Emotions.  Thoughts du jour. But, it's THERE, and I'm searching for a way to let go... 
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    One of the things that I've been pondering is that of what it truly MEANS to be a Christian in today's world.  Now, I've been saved since I was very young.  My belief in Jesus Christ is an integral part of my life.  Most of the time, though, I don't openly "flaunt" it...because there are many people that don't care to hear.  Does that mean I'm ashamed of my GOD?  NO!!!! Absolutely NOT.  But, I will NOT push him onto someone who could care less, who is not interested, nor ever will be interested.  Why?  (And yes, this goes against all of my Southern Baptist background).  Because I will not cheapen my Lord, my Christ, my God on those who will throw him away.  Does that mean I am unwilling to offend for the gospel?  Absolutely not.  Again.  But, I am inclined to following the prompting of the Holy Spirit about when and with whom I share this gift.  I am fully aware that as Christians, we are judged and gauged by the world on what we say and do.  It is my prayer that my life is my witness for my beloved.  Does that mean I don't fail?  Absolutely not, again.  I fail on a second by second basis.  I have to ask forgiveness from Christ a gazillion times a day, but it is always my fervent desire and hope that my life, if flashed upon the big screen of life, will be pleasing to God, and an impetus to man.  I don't go to church  Not that I don't want to.  But churchs are full of fallible humans who can be detrimental to a fragile soul.  Rejection is a hard, bitter pill to swallow, and we as a family have faced it too many times to want to try again so easily.  But, I know that eventually, we will get up the courage to try again.  I comfort myself with the knowledge that organized, corporal religion that is so prevelant today, so political today, and so politically correct today is NOT the worship that God had in mind.  My mother, on the other hand, believes that my lack of church attendance is the catalyst for many of my problems...Sigh.  I don't ever want to be accused of putting God in a box.  I remember one time, a voice in my spirit said, "You will always be so much harder on yourself than I can EVER be on you"...Yet, I KNOW that while this is the age of the dispensation of grace, that God is still a formidable, jealous God who turns away from sin.  I know that if his advances are continuously rejected, he will eventually turn away.  And, these thoughts trouble me for those who I know do not understand him, and need him in a way that they can't even recognize.  I miss the church of my childhood, and I regret that I haven't had the opportunity to give this to my children.  I pray that their foundation will deepen, will become firm, on the solid ground of Christ and his word...sometimes, it's hard for them to understand with everything that we've been through.  They've watched me cry out to God many, many times during the dark night of our collective soul.  I fear that their own hearts are hardened by this period in our life; that they don't fully understand God and his works based upon what they have experienced.  Their faith, I fear isn't as strong as it should be, and I don't know how to change that, but to continue on doing things the way that I do them.  These issues trouble my mother's heart.  Yet, I know, that in the end, it is their own faith they must lean on, not mine. 
     
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    Things are so different now, than when I was a child.  Nothing is truly innocent anymore.  Everything has a connotation of good or evil...halloween, for example.  There are those that have taken this holiday, and made it totally evil, wicked.  All I remember about Halloween growing up is going out, dressed up in my costume, begging for candy.  Have I been evilly or negatively impacted for participating in this holiday tradition?  I would hope that I can honestly say "NO."  Yet, now, because of the small minority of the population, another tradition has fallen by the wayside.  Designated hours for going out begging for candy.  Designated days.  Not on Halloween, you see, because it's....evil.  There will always be that part of life that is evil, to my mind.  Just as there is always that part of life that is good.  Always.  That will never change.  But, it saddens me that what most people innocently took for granted has been taken away, to become horrifying and evil, and all things bad.  I ask my kids..."What do YOU remember about Halloween?  They all answer, "Why wearing that ridiculously expensive/silly/stupid/uncomfortable costume, taking our pillowcase (cuz it holds more) and begging for candy....
     
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    So, I rest in the comfort of the words of God, that I and my household shall be saved...and I'll go on trying to live my life for Christ in the only way that I know how, that I've known how forever. It's inherent, you know. It's instinctive.  Doing the "right" thing, the compassionate thing, without thinking about the outcome, calculating the consequences.  It's the only way that I know how to live. If he can use my life to influence another for his purpose, then I'm grateful.  If he chooses to bless the life of another, then maybe, just maybe...I'll get to hear those precious words someday..."Well done, good and faithful servant."  It's all I've ever wanted, really.
     
    Have a blessed evening, and a Happy Boo-day! And, if by chance, someone comes by beggin' for candy with a pillowcase, throw 'em a couple of pieces for me!
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    Always, April
    10/13/2005

    Before I was a MOM

     

    Before I was a Mom I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed.
    I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

    Before I was a Mom
    I cleaned my house each day.
    I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
    I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
    I never thought about immunizations.

    Before I was a Mom I had never been puked on.
    Pooped on. Spit on.
    Chewed on.
    Peed on.
    I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
    I slept all night.

    Before I was a Mom

    I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests.
    Or give shots.

    I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
    I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
    I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

    Before I was a Mom

    I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down.
    I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.
    I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.

    I never knew that I could love someone so much.
    I never knew I would love being a Mom.

     

    Before I was a Mom
    I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
    I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
    I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
    I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important and happy.

     

    Before I was a Mom

    I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
    I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
    I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom...

     

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    10/12/2005

    A Story for You

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    I hope you enjoy, even if you've heard it before!  I surely needed it!
    Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man
    was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain
    the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.
    The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for
    hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their
    jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on
    vacation.
    
    Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could situp, he
    would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could
    see outside the window.
    
    The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods
    where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and
    color of the world outside.
    
    The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans
    played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers
    walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city
    skyline could be seen in the distance.
    
    As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the
    man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the
    picturesque scene.
    
    One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing
    by.
    
    Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In
    his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive
    words.
    
    Days and weeks passed.
    
    One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only
    to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully
    in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to
    take the body away.
    
    As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be
    moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after
    making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
    
    Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his
    first look at the real world outside.
    
    He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.
    
    It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have
    compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things
    outside this window
    
    The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the
    wall.
    
    She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
    
    Epilogue:
    
    "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."
    
    
    9/11/2005

    Is It Noon in Nova Scotia Yet?

    mi mi mi mi mi....There, I'm warmed up.  About to sing my aria, as it were.  I had an "AHA" moment yesterday, an epiphany, if you will.  Kev & I decided to take the girls and attend a Family Fall Festival not far from here (which was a joke, but I digress).  But, here's where my AHA moment came in...I realized that this was the first time, and I mean the FIRST time that I can remember that we, as a family, did something recreational in I-don't-know-when.  It WAS enjoyable, walking down the streets, holding hubby's hand, watching the girls look at the hawker's wares.  It was....relaxing.  And, I had not relaxed in SUCH a long time.  What is the AHA moment, you ask?  It struck me at that moment that we were all doing penance for Mike.  For his bad choices.  For his mistakes.  For HIM.  And, right then and there, I decided, "NO MORE".  It's time.  It's time to begin living our lives again.  It's been over a year.  I think that's a long enough mourning period, don't you? 
     
    Yes, life has been...difficult for a while now.  In fact, several years.  I think I've blamed myself for that.  You know how YOU KNOW something is true, but your id, or whatever the heck it is, DOES NOT?  Perhaps this was my case.   So, today, it all stops.  I'm going to regain my life, regain ME.  Who I used to be.  Well, maybe slightly altered.  I'm sure that part of me got lost somewhere, BUT...for now, my grieiving is done.  I will allow myself to be happy, and enjoy my life, as it is right now.  (And, you are ALL free to remind me of this blog should I start to sink again). Today, for the first time in a long time, I've actually HEARD my wind chimes, and the sound is beautiful.  Even my precious animals are noticing a difference, I believe, as their whole bodies are wagging in pure ecstasy at being petted...by me.  My new home is WONDERFUL, and I'm giving myself permission to actually ENJOY it. I will enjoy the remaining time I have in working on my Master's (which is not long, by the way.  I'll be done in January.)  
     
    So....to all of you who have encouraged, exhorted, prayed, needled and prayed some more, THANK YOU.  Thank you for believing in me when I was unable to believe in myself.  I'm going to pull an imaginary tab now to celebrate.  It's only 10:30 here, but I'm sure that it's noon in Nova Scotia.  Here's to you, for being persistent.  Here's to ME....for coming alive again.  Cheers!
     
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    9/10/2005

    Mom's Pensive Musings

    I've been introspective lately.  I don't really know why.  Perhaps it's beccause I'm TRULY middle-aged, and I never thought I'd be.  Perhaps it's because of my son.  Perhaps it is because  we've had to completely "start over" when we should really be preparing for our twilight years. 
     
    Sometimes, I wonder why.  WHY did our lives fall apart?  Why have our lives been more difficult than those of our peers, friends, and to some extent, family?  WHY were we forced to go from being prosperous to destitute in the blink of an eye?  We did all the right things, planned, saved, 401K's, college funds, you name it, we did it.  But, all of our planning couldn't protect us from the powers that be...
     
    We're not stupid people, Kev & I.  In fact, both of us are highly intelligent, as are our children.  But if you peer into our lives, it doesn't seem that way.  And, again, I wonder, why?  What could we or should we have done differently?  And, if we DID do things differently, would the outcome still have been the same?  Rule #1 -- Spouses should be employed by different companies in the event that said company "gives up the ghost".  It's more than detrimental.  It's destructive.  Rule #2 -- Expect everyone you are close to to "bail" from you once you experience a life-altering event.  Believe me when I say that YOU only find out who your true friends are when there is a crisis...  Rule # 3 -- No matter HOW mature your children seem, they are not as mature as their parents, and can't always be trusted to make the right choices on their own.  Sigh.  Rule #4 -- There really is a thing called Tough Love, because, Love is just tough.  It's tough to be loving and giving.  It's TOUGH being a Christian.  It's very TOUGH to be like Christ, or, for that matter, deliberately WANT to be Christlike.
     
    Sometimes, BAD, and I mean BAD things happen to good people.  We've experienced more than our share of that.  Sometimes I question, "What do I have to do to prove to God that I won't bail on HIM?"  But he knows that already.  I have to be content (which I am NOT many times) that there either is a God, or there isn't.  And, if there IS a God, then He is either capable of being in control, or He's not.  And it is during those times, with great trepidation, that I put my tiny hand into His.  Trust, at the most intimate level, is not easy.  Faith, at the most intimate level, is NOT easy.  Do I pass the test?  Not always.  Many times, "NO".  But, I always find my way back, because it's what I do.  It's what I believe.  It's who I am. 
     
    Do I wish that life was easier?  Most certainly!  I would love for the "glitches of life" to go away.  But, they don't.  In my case, they never have.  Do I have regrets?  Yes, I do.  There are things that I wish I had a "do over" for.  But, I don't.  And, thankfully, God has forgiven me for the regrets I DO have. 
     
     I wish I were more like Paul.  I wish that I could honestly say that I am content in whatever state I am in, but I'm not.  I try, but I'm not.  I've known great comfort, and I've been in want, and I gotta tell you that I'll take great comfort any day.  I wish that I were stronger, and braver.  I wish that I were more confident in living my life.  The one thing that I AM certain of, though, is that someday, none of this will matter, and that I will finally be home, and introspective no more.
     
     
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    9/1/2005

    The Tears That We Cry

    It's early morning, and although I'm tired, I can't sleep. Emotions are running high...probably because of all that is new and unfamiliar in our lives.
     
    Ashley just got home from hanging out w/ new-found friends.  She had a frustrating, and most likely disappointing day.  She had an appointment with Kelly Services yesterday afternoon; I guess that I hadn't really explained things to her very well...she spent the mandatory 2.5 hours interviewing, testing...only to be told that they didn't have anything available "right now".  So...she cried out of frustration.  And, I did what any good mom does.  I cried, too.
     
    Elizabeth's (Liz to her friends) school's Open House was from 4-6 pm.  She was excited, apprehensive, all of the above.  She must have had an adrenalin rush, 'cuz halfway through our time there, she burst into tears.  And....I did what any good mom does, I cried right along with her.  (She insists that she's better now).  I, on the other hand, wonder if I will ever make it through my children's angst.  So, I hand them over to the Lord.  Again.  Reminding him of how precious they are to me.  He responds with how precious I am to Him, so He is perfectly capable of taking care of my precious cargo.  But still, I am reluctant, no, incapable of totally letting go of them.   
     
    I feel their anguish.  I deal with my own anguish, because I can't "kiss the boo-boo and make it better" anymore.  Bandaids don't work when you're a young lady, growing up.  So much is important.  EVERYTHING is important.  And again, God reminds me..."My child, you do not KNOW just how cherished you are.  See?  I hold you in the palm of my hand...." 
     
    And, on that note, I'll drift off to sleep, knowing that he who holds me will not sleep, neither will he allow me to stumble or fall (Even though sometimes I feel like I am falling...).  And, since I expect everyone to believe me, that I am an honest and trustworthy individual, I can do no less with God...
     
     
     
    8/31/2005

    Happy Birthday to Me

    Monday was my birthday.  Surprisingly, hubby & girls remembered it, amidst all of the skipping of stones in our lives right now.  I am officially 45.  Sigh.  And, for most of the day, I cried...not because I'm 45, (well, perhaps a little bit because I'm 45), but because ....well, what have I DONE with my life?  Have I impacted this world for Christ?  It doesn't seem like it.  Have I lived "life out loud" (if you visit, by the way, I loved your spot, but then....everything froze up, and I couldn't find you again...
     
    It seems to me that most of my life has been spent struggling just to exist...from the time I was very young (and no, you DON'T even need to hear those war stories...).  I've often wondered, "Where is God's glory in all of this?"  And, I've often been told that "Perhaps these are the answers you will only receive in heaven." 
     
    I WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!  I want to be like....Billy Graham, or Mother Teresa, or Elisabeth Eliot, or. Joyce Meyer or Beth Moore, or...anyone who has had the privelege  using their painful situations, (except for B. Graham, of course, but how many people are THAT annointed??!) of living their lives totally for Christ and making an impact on the world.  Why didn't I KNOW that I wanted this when I was young, before I made commitments that would get in the way??!!
     
    But, I don't, and I haven't.  Therefore, I grieve for mis-spent youth, for an ordinary life.  How can God take an ordinary, unimposing life like mine and use it to further his kingdom??? I grieve over poor choices, and selfish decisions.  I grieve over my own STUPIDITY at times.  I grieve for not knowing the desires of my heart, and now wondering, "Is it too late?" 
     
    I soooooo want to live a passionate life.  Most of the time, though, I'm just to tired to do more than try to live "right."  But, then, what IS RIGHT, really?  Am I even doing a good job at THAT???  I sooooo want others to catch a glimpse of the God that I know....most of the time, however, I'm too caught up in life's boomerang to be able to really share Him with others. 
     
    So....God, if you're reading this right now, and if you feel that I still have a life worth using, then I'm ready to do whatever it takes.  Even if it means doing nothing more than living an ordinary life. 
     
     
     
     
    8/12/2005

    Why was she born?

    Elizabeth is our youngest daughter.  She is 13, and very self-confident and sure of herself.  When she was a baby, she was my cuddlebug, our snuggler; she delighted in singing about Jesus, and would shout "Jesus Loves Me' to the heavens, showing how STRONG Jesus was by demonstrating her own muscles....
     
    Such a beautiful little girl, just like one of Sandra Kuck's depictions of an angel.  And she and I have a closer bond, because she is just like me in personality, character and appearance.  She always used to tell people that she was a Christian since before she was born...
     
    I remember when she was about 8 years old.  She had attended AWANA's at church, and for the first time, the Easter story really sunk in.  When she arrived home, she was in tears.  I asked her what had happened, and she began to explain to me how her precious Jesus had been treated...beaten, spit upon, clothes torn and shredded...when she got to the part about the crown of thorns, she collapsed, sobbing harder, into my arms.  WHY oh why did those bad men hurt her Jesus?  (My own eyes still fill with tears whenever I remember this episode.) 
     
    After the 9/11 terrorist attacks, I was so sorrowful at the  state of our world.  I remember thinking, "Why did we ever bring children into this world?  WHAT were we thinking?  Especially for Elizabeth.  What was she going to have to endure as an adult?"  God reached down, and spoke to my heart.  "If  Elizabeth had not been born, she would never get to experience my presence in heaven..." 
     
    And I, I then knew of entering into the rest of the Lord .  What a precious gift he chose to give me that day, with the assurance that once again, he was in control. 
     
    It is my hope that some day, I will be able to convey this simple message to my precious child.  Perhaps it will bring rest to her weary soul in the same way it brought rest to mine. 
     
    Have a blessed and restful evening,
     
    The Mom
     
     
    8/10/2005

    A Lesson Remembered, A Lesson Learned

    The Lord brought this to my mind tonight.  Thought I'd pass it on....
     
    I've been in this mode lately where I'm fondly recalling the "baby days" of my children.  This is one of the times that I recalled...
     
    When our oldest daughter Ashley was a toddler, we were out at the Riverwalk in Naperville, IL. We had stopped at a little icecream and candy shop on the corner.  When we came out, I reached down to take her hand in order to walk her safely across the street.  She pulled away from me, folding one hand into the other.  "I do it mysef, mommy, I do it mysef."  The Holy Spirit gently nudged my spirit at that moment with the image of God holding out his hand out to me, with me pulling away, saying, "I can do it myself..." 
     
    How many times had I caught myself  doing exactly that?  Pulling away from God, thinking I can handle things on my own?  Too many to count.  I'm grateful for such vivid imagery to remind me of my loving father's kindness (and lessons on parenting skills.) 
     
    Ashley will be 20 years old next month.  She isn't as sure of herself as she was at the age of 2, and Kev and I often have to gently push her towards the edge of the nest.  I have to remind myself that she MUST learn to do some things on her own, but also remind her (and me) that we will always be there for her, to catch her if she falls, just as God reaches out his hand and catches me....
     
    Have a Blessed Evening,
     
    The Mom  
    8/7/2005

    The Mom's Musings

    They say that it takes 21 - 30 days to establish a pattern or set a habit.  Being a mother, I would argue  this point with whomever thought up these statistics.  This person DOES NOT have kids -- of an age.  My 3 are 19, 17 & 13.  Years in age. (Not days or weeks, although somedays, I wonder...)  Still, after their respective years on this earth, the cap still stays off the toothpaste tube.  Toothpaste spit and paste stays in the sink, as does head hair, which they never clean up.  The toliet sit is ALWAYS in an upright position when this mom needs to "go", and....they always leave "just a little bit" of anything in the fridge so that it doesn't look like they took the last of it. 
    ~~~~~~~~~~~
    Which brings me to another point.  I have a fourth child whose name is "NOT ME".  You would think after almost 20 years of raising children, that I would have caught a glimpse of this ghost child, but no, NOT ONE TIME!!! 
     
    ME:  "Who lef the water running in the bathroom sink?"
     
    Ashley:  "It wasn't me."
     
    Mike:  "I haven't been in the bathroom, must have been Elizabeth."
     
    Elizabeth :"Uh-huh, not me."
     
    ME:  "Who spilled the milk on the counter, and didn't clean it up?"
     
    All 3 kids:  (In Unison) Not me!"
     
    ME:  Which one of you didn't put the phones back on the charges, and now the batteries are dead? 
     
    A:  "Not me."
    M:  "Not me."
    E:  "Not me."
     
    I would like to see what Not me looks like.  Does he resemble his father or mother in physical appearance?  Does he or she have an appearance at all?  And...was I sleeping or drugged when Not Me was born?  I still scratch my head over that one...
    ~~~~~~~~~~
    One thing I have learned (according to my kids):  DO NOT EAT FRESH FRUIT OR DRINK FRUIT JUICE right after having brushed your teeth.  I've been told that it's really nasty...
    ~~~~~~~~~~
     
    My kids don't care about anything unless it's something that they don't like or want to do.  For instance, going to the grocery store...ME:  "I'm going to the store.  What do you guys want to eat?"  Everyone:  "I don't care."  OK, then...so, I go buy food.  When I come home, they are all like frenzied phiranas, circling the waters, tearing food out of the bags..."Uh, why'd you get THIS???!!! I can't stand the taste of THAT!!!", or "You KNOW I like XYZ brand instead of ABC brand!  Gosh, mom!  Don't you remember??"  Sigh.  I guess I should stick the title of mind-reader behind my list of mom-titles...
     
    ~~~~~~~~~~
    And, for all of this, I would still  destroy anybody who tried to hurt them...I guess that's the best mom-title of the all.  Momavenger!
     
     
     
    8/4/2005

    And, So it Goes

    It's a quiet evening.  Kind of... Elizabeth is out with all of her "groupies", Ashley is laying on the sofa watching TV (she has a severe kidney infection; I took her to the ER at 4:30 this morning thinking kidney stone or appendix) and Kevin was out on the front porch reading "The Six Sigma Way".  (Yes, I thought it sounded um, interesting, too).  Popples is down at my feet...snoring.  Such a big sound from such a little dog...I hear footsteps, and I glance up to see....my son, heading for the front door, with his pants hanging down past his butt, his boxers showing, and I'm thinking (again), I SO HATE THAT LOOK.  We've had so many discussions, disagreements, arguments and down-right fights about that.  Even when he wears a belt...his pants hang down past his butt.  WHY?  I snort at the possibility that this can be considered comfortable...and then I shake my head in resigned disbelief, and return to my task at hand....telling all of my secrets about today.
     
    The relationship with the boyfriend is apparently headed south (again), and I tell Ashley that maybe this move will be a gracious way of allowing her to break things off with him...They both have this fantasy of the way they think the relationship should be (both base this relationship on that of their respective set of parents) the boyfriends parents are never together, each always going their respective way, while Ashley sees Kev & I together constantly, best friends, never away from each other's side for long...and I once again hug her to me, stroke her hair, tell her how sorry I am, and pray that she'll make it through.(Especially since she really doesn't WANT to break it off with him again, but, the tears, and the hurt, and all of those sad, mad, bad feelings. Isn't she important enough to come see for an hour or so?  I mean, come on...it's a kidney infection, and she's feeling rotten.  No...playing basketball is much more important on a day like today.)  Oh GOD!!  WHY does being a mother have to be so....INTENSE???
     
    The kids all have different emotions and responses about moving AGAIN.  Michael is more than relieved.  Ashley is...well, torn.  She wants to stay with us, yet she doesn't want to leave the boyfriend.  He tells her that she can move in with him, which we don't necessarily agree with, but she is going to be 20 next month, so...what does one do?  We just let her know that of course, she is more than welcome to come with us, that we'd prefer it to be so, but...Elizabeth cried a lot last night.  She told us that she'd get over it.  Apparently she has, at least for the time being.  Today she was like a nervous poodle peeing all over herself with excitement...when are we going to look for a new place to live, when are we moving?  when are we packing, when, when, when.  And, YES, this mom's nerves are really jangled up tonight.  So...this mom is gonna clean out the bathtub, 'cuz her youngest child is a pig and dirties up everything she touches....  and then I'm gonna run a bath, add some bubbles, turn on Jim Brickman, and do the Calgon, take me away...thing.  And, with that thought, I bid all of you a warm goodnight!
     
    PS.  Why is it when the mom wants to do something for herself...like TAKE A BATH....
     
    the dogs scratch on the door and whine incessantly?
    the cat sticks his paw under the door? (They miss me so much)
    the phone rings
    the kids stand outside of the door..."Mom?"
     
    Sigh.
    8/1/2005

    Pity Party Sadness

    I want so much to pour out what is in my heart...but it is too painful.
     
    I want so much to be told that things will be ok...but I feel that it would be a half-truth and unbelievable.  I hate triteness and the "there, theres" that go along with it. (It's called a cliche'...) 
    I want to turn back time to when my son was younger so that I can protect him from the demons that take over his mind.  His agonies are my agonies, his pain, mine.
     
    I want life to be boring...for one day.  I want to be able to catch my breath before the next wave of problems and crisises hit. 
     
    I long for true rest that never comes my way. My body, soul and mind are so weary, that I don't know if I am capable of continuing on.
     
    Where is the joy in the morning that has been promised?  Where is the peace that is to be supplied?
    Where is Jesus in my hour of need?
     
    Sometimes, I feel like life is a big chess game.  God is definitely not sitting at my table today.
     
    I want to cry, but the tears won't come.  I want to swallow the lump in my throat, because then, maybe the ache in my heart will disappear. 
     
    I want...
     
     
    7/28/2005

    God's Flowergarden Arrangement

    Several years ago, I was leading a women's bible study.  During one of the sessions, I stopped by the supermarket and picked up a large arrangement of mixed flowers. 
     
    After our lesson that evening, I  took the flower arrangement, and as I started talking, I began handing out the different flowers, one by one, to the women in my group.  What I told them was this:
     
    I've been doing a lot of thinking lately
    about how God perceives us
    I know that he gives each of us different gifts,
    and even those that have perhaps the same gift
    it is still uniquely our own, performed in our own way.
    Then it struck me....
    God created such vivid, vibrant and unique flowers
    many varieties, many shapes & sizes.
    Perhaps this is how he perceives us, as well.  He views
    each of us as beautiful and as individual and as
    unique as each of these flowers in this arrangement.
    Each one of you here is beautiful, with your own
    distinct personality, your own unique individualness.
    I believe that we are God's own special flower garden, and that when we  come together we form a beautiful
    bouquet!
     
    I will never ever forget the looks on the faces of those precious women.  Later, each and every one told me how much they cherished my words, and cherished the flower I handed them to represent their individual beauty.
     
    I still believe this to be true.  For all of you reading this blog today, whether you choose to be a rose, a tulip, a daisy or a lily...you are  beautifully unique in the eyes of God, and together, we all form the most amazing bouquet...
     
     
     
    7/26/2005

    Longing For Home

    Ok....I admit it.  I'm homesick.  Not for Oklahoma, you understand, but someplace far better.  Perfect.  Heaven. 
     
    Do you ever get a lump in your throat that you can't swallow, or experience a longing for something so deep that it brings tears to your eyes, but you really don't know why?  David said in the Psalms, "as a deer pants for water, Lord, so I thirst (long) for you."
     
    Life is hard.  This month has had so many ups & downs...and I'm dizzy from being on this rollercoaster called LIFE.  I'm ready to get off, and I'm ready to go home.  And I wonder...does God ever miss my presence in heaven?  Yes, I KNOW that He's right here with me, all the time.  But, somehow, I sense that things are different in his throneroom.  Yes, I know that prayer can take us there, but I WANT to BE there, to see the glory that causes me to do the only thing possible...bow down before Him.  Is that selfish?  Probably.  I know that there are many who will never get to experience the homecoming that I long for so desperately on days like today. Does that make me sad?  Most certainly.   Do I do things to try to change this for others?  When I can.  I hope & pray that my life is an example, but, I don't know.  If I were an outsider looking in at me, and I saw the trials that I go through (and had been  through ), I don't know if I'd want to be a Christian, either.  It's a difficult call.
     
    So, I'll run to my heavenly daddy, and ask him to wrap his quilt of love and caring around me and those I care about.  I'll ask him for courage to make it through just one more day.  I'll ask him to forgive me for being selfish, to give me the strength to continue to stay...so that perhaps others will be able to hold my hand when we finally arrive, and hear with me the words I so long to hear..."Well done, good and faithful servant"...
     
    And before I close my eyes, I'll pray:
     
    My Daddy, whose home is heaven,
    Holy is your precious name.
    Your kingdom, and your will both come, and be done
    here on earth, as it is done and as it is in your heavenly home.
    Meet my needs for today, daddy,
    And...
    forgive me for sinning
    Help me to forgive others who have hurt me
    Don't lead me towards temptation, and keep me away from all evil.
    Because  everything is yours:  the kingdom, the power & the glory. 
    Always and forever.
     
    So be it.
     
    Good night, and God Bless!
     
     
     
    7/21/2005

    Teenage Angst

    I've been spending a lot of time  browsing other MSM spaces of late.  A lot of them have been teen sites, and I am amazed an intrigued by the "code" they use when "speak-writing", as well as the despair and angst that seems to grip each teen soul.  Why is this?  Is it the times that we live in? 
     
    Each site seems so intense...filled with so much  melodrama, anger and pain.  So much pain in the world...and the language they use !  They throw the "fi" word around like it's everyday language...and this mom's heart is broken for all of these kids trying to find their way.
     
    Do their parents know that they share their deepest, innermost feelings & thoughts for the whole world to see?  Would they care if they DID know?  Sometimes, I believe that an apathetic spirit has overtaken us as American parents (well, not ME, necessarily, but many). 
     
    And...I want to grab these kids by the shoulders and give them a hard shake.  Tell them to "wake up".  Look around at the world you live in.  Some, I know, live in horrible dysfunction, not knowing the love of family or friends.  Some, I am certain, deal with every type of abuse possible...so perhaps their angst is justified.  But many (sometimes including my own children) are just so....selfish and self-involved.  Broken hearts have run amuck (a major theme).  Another major theme is that of BOREDOM.  You see it on almost every space, in more than one post.  What happened to entertaining ones'self by reading, writing, taking walks...all the things that were available when I was a teen (and it truly wasn't that long ago...) and are STILL available now?  Kev & I love to read, do so all the time; we still have yet to see our own children follow in our footsteps down that path.  It's not "Kewl", you see.  The most reading that seems to be done is text-messaging on their cell phones.  Sigh.
     
    This saddens and angers me.  These kids are our future.  What have we done?  As a collective society, what HAVE we done?
     
     
    7/19/2005

    Antique Photograph

         Sad Woman
     
     
         I found this photo in an antique store several years ago.  I don't know who she is, but can't you just see the pain on her face?  I figure that this was taken during the 1930's, perhaps during the depression.  We lived in Oklahoma City at the time, so I'm assuming that the photograph was taken somewhere in Oklahoma. 
     
         What do YOU see when you look into her face?  Any stories that comes to mind for you would be greatly appreciated!!
     
    Thanks~
     
    MomApril
    7/17/2005

    On the Matrix Trilogy

    What if it's all TRUE????