Senior table – the final product

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Creating unconditional love on cardboard, as if that’s possible

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Creating a senior table for him was an act of love.

Wednesday night, on the eve of high school graduation, moms and dads filled the gymnasium for a shining gesture. With Herculean effort, we decorated senior tables for our offspring. I know because I was among those parents attempting, in some impossible way to contain love on a 30″ x 30″ plot of space. Talk about pressure!

For weeks I had been staging Aaron’s table at home. With two children graduating nine days apart in two different states, I had to start early to make sure it was good.

In 2008, Nate had a senior table and Aaron deserved for me to put in the same painstaking effort. In my practice sessions, sometimes I’d tape a picture in one place on the cardboard and then move it elsewhere. A few of my table prototypes were created actually in Aaron’s room so he would see them when he came home from school. I’d anticipate the moment when Aaron would enter.

Yes, I said to myself, hopefully he will not collapse upon seeing its beauty.

Truly, I speculated, he will notice how I angled the ukelele JUST so,

put the candle HERE,

Oh how I adored seeing a classmate write encouraging words to my boy, such loving messages filled these pages.

the coffee cup THERE

and the tiny bell from Ukraine on THIS spot.

And when Aaron would walk into his room, my ear would keen for the slightest gasp of wonder. If a second passed without a response, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Aaron, what do you think?” I’d beckon so desperate for his approval. Without exception Aaron showed his gratefulness. Whew. Other times, you know, just in case a friend stopped by and you never know when that just might happen, I would do the whole set-up in the dining room and dare I admit, I’d walk down the stairs several times just to get a glimpse afresh.

Senior pic taken by his aunt.

As the mama of three OS, for me with no other girl in my household, it was the equivalent of seeing a daughter in a wedding gown or a prom dress. Don’t laugh. I felt joy. The Hubs found other versions of the table in his office or in the hallway. Some family members were even blessed with text messages and pictures from me marking a new table development concept. A few were kind enough to acknowledge receipt of those pictures. Oh thank you if you indulged me! I sewed a swatch of remnant material from his books pants fabric. Aaron approved.

Then I stitched a coordinating rectangle of some extra fabric a friend had given me. Aaron liked the manly colors. He assisted my efforts by writing in gold a poem from his favorite author William Cowper and I trimmed the sides of the cardboard with pages from an old family Bible.

It wasn’t perfect but the time had come for the official unveiling. Insecure feelings never replaced the warm and wonderful sentiment I felt inside.

But I bet I wasn’t the only one who spent copious amounts of time on the child’s senior table project; based on what I saw, our collective souls were poured onto those hallowed folding tables.

We did not create altars for our children, I guess we just wanted our son or daughter and all who passed by to smile and either say, “Wow, I am loved” or “Awesome, someone thinks very highly of that kid.” If you think this post is stupid, then we probably couldn’t be friends. If you’ve read this far, you understand. Let’s have lunch.

Thursday arrived and tears flowed as we all beamed.

I had been crying throughout the day but vanity aside, I had to get a picture of me by Aaron’s table.

I gazed and cried stopping by many of Aaron’s friend’s tables. I noted with appreciation that none of these tables felt ostentatious as if they were trying to steal attention from someone else.

The body of Christ enveloped the mood. With our individual 7 1/2 square feet carefully crafted, the seniors marked the passage of time. I paused with gratitude over the families represented and prayed for their children’s future.

Have you ever done something like for a loved one? What special things would hallmark your “table”? I’d so enjoy hearing about it. May you all have opportunity for such a celebration of life.

After graduation, Aaron spent a long time reading the messages. What a thankful moment for all of us.

Questions: How do you handle the desire to be perfect with the reality that you’re not? What do you do when you feel competitive with other people and struggle with inadequacy?

To have an inchworm as a friend…

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Reading is a most cherished relaxing activity. While my brain can’t retain all the amazing things I learn when reading, my black leather bound book (courtesy of my writer friend Kristi, click here for her blog) serves as fertile ground for me to deposit interesting words and quotations from books I’ve read, sermons I’ve heard, etc.

Before I met Inchy, these words from Charles Kingsley in Nancy Pearcey’s book Saving Leonardo caught my attention. 
“The simplest forms of nature are strangely animated 
by the sense of Divine presence, 
the trees and flowers seem all, 
in a sort, children of God.”
Then my mom had surgery and complications resulting in my encounter with Inchy. Maybe I read Kingsley’s quote because Inchy and I would soon be friends. Yes, I realize that Inchy is/was an insect and human beings are God’s only children though He is the Creator of all things.

But still, Inchy was a good distraction. Laughing is my favorite and Inchy provided some needed jocularity. One afternoon, while on the way to my mom’s hospital room, I stopped to greet my chenille buddy. Just in case inchworms have ears, you know I wanted to offer a word of encouragement. My little looper friend, wherever you were, I hope you were having a good day! Don’t listen to Hubs in the background, he was just jealous of our unusual friendship!

The bunny in the window

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The most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in a hospital gift shop.

The ceramic bunny with powder blue overalls, paws tucked in the pockets, long- ingly looked at me each day from the glass display shelf.

No words were needed. We were just two innocent figures in an odd place sharing a kindred desire to escape the confines of the hospital.

Neither of us knew when and if that would happen.
Maybe he was jealous of me as he stood motionless among the other ceramic rabbits, after all I was in the lobby area and my feet moved swiftly.

To be fair though, I was envious of him also.

He was in a gift shop, he made people smile and he was among other pretty ceramic friends.

Last pic of the bunny and me

I felt uglier and older every time I walked into the hospital.

Only once did I venture into the gift shop to lift him up to see if I had the cash to get him sprung.

He was $38 and I gently set him back down to return to his post.

Each day for ten days prior to seeing my mom, I’d go and check on the ceramic bunny with the powder blue overalls.

And each time, an internal battle would loom within as I pondered taking him home with me.

Did I really want an emblem of my mom’s turmoil?
What if my mom died here?
And even if she didn’t, could I one day gaze at the ceramic bunny dwelling in my home and conjure up good sentiments about the whole experience?

And this is what I saw an hour later

Alas, the decision was taken from me. Here’s what happened.

I had briefly visited the ceramic bunny and gone to my mom’s room.

She was a disheveled mess and it was as if she had completely given up.

Honestly it ticked me off and left to my own druthers, I would have stormed out of the room leaving her to feel sorry for herself.

Yet I couldn’t do it.

Call it pride that I didn’t want people to think I was a bad daughter.

Call it love because I truly love the woman.

Call it Jesus because He alone gave me strength.

But I stayed and I got a stupid wheelchair and pushed my mom down the hallway. I told her we were going to go to the courtyard and I was going to introduce her to my friend at the gift shop. She was nonplussed.

While on the way, I reminded my mom to lift her head up, open her eyes and speak in full sentences. She needed to engage the world in order to get better. My words were met with limited compliance…I pushed her eagerly to the lobby right up to the glass window.

“Mom, I want to show you the ceramic bunny I’ve been visiting every day,” my voice and pace quickened in excitement as we pulled up to the display.

Nothing – and the other ceramic bunnies were mum about my special friend’s sudden disappearance.

photocopy3-3The cer- amic bunny with powder blue overalls was gone.

Someone had taken him.

How could that be? I had just seen him less than an hour ago!

Why did someone steal my joy?

Why was he getting to go home and I was still stuck here?

Did the ladies in the gift shop think I was such a creeper for taking so many pictures of him that they withdrew that bunny from the stock?

Where did he go?

Did someone get him for me?

Numb would best describe my feelings and I’m being totally honest even if it sounds weird. I am home now and the visits to the hospital have stopped.

My mom left the hospital a few days later to continue her recovery.

I tried attaching myself to another ceramic bunny in the gift shop, one that was more in my price range but it just didn’t feel right. I did, however, find another little friend in the hospital which I will soon share with you but there is something I need to learn from this experience.

Albeit wistfully, I now see that the ceramic bunny in powder blue overalls as a welcome, temporary diversion to strife.

He provided me a creative, silly outlet to express myself each day. We weren’t meant to be together but only for a short season of life.

The bunny, my mom and I all needed to go to our respective homes and leave this place behind. My mom is getting better and healing in a variety of ways.

Sister/friend, Army/Navy, trials/blessings

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My friend Kim and I hanging out in the hospital lobby.
I have pink highlights and though
Kim does not have olive green highlights in her hair, 

she’s still a really good person
as you will soon discover. 

Last year Kim went in the hospital for routine surgery. As part of our Bible Study, she lifted the situation up as a prayer concern and we promised to pray for her. No big deal, I thought to myself. I’ve had a hysterectomy. Not pleasant but she’ll be fine. I’ll make her a meal, be a nice friend and we’ll see her back in our group in no time at all.

But that’s not what happened. The routine surgery became life-threatening as deadly pockets of infection raged in her abdomen. Soon she was too sick to return text messages and too weak to speak. Her husband took over communication and his emails were long as he detailed the troubles and asked for more prayers. Three additional surgeries later, Kim still was in the hospital gravely ill. Another woman in our Bible Study, a pharmacist, told us later that Kim was near death. A vital, young wife and mother of four daughters never expected these complications. Our group was jarred and we cried out to the Lord to save our dear friend and sister in Christ. More meals, more cards, visits to the hospital, we all wondered why this was happening. Kim spent 11 days in the hospital and it took months for her to remain her strength. As she lay in the hospital bed, baseball cap on her head because she was too weak to even wash her hair, Kim had time to talk to God about the purpose for her suffering. She promised to use her illness to minister to others and to not waste this trial…

13 months later – it was past one in the morning when the Hubs and I finally returned home from the hospital. My mom was in the throws of withdrawal from pain meds and at times it was like seeing a demon coming out of her body. Nothing could console her and we were at our wits’ end as we left the hospital and to get some sleep.

While in the shower, in the wee hours of the mourning, I felt the Lord speak to me and remind me about Kim. “Ask her to come to the hospital,” that’s what God said to me…while in the shower…Later that day I called and without hesitation Kim heartily agreed.  On Saturday, a little over a year after her own ordeal, my friend walked back into the same hospital, this time not as a patient but as a woman victorious. 

The devotional Kim gave to my mom.

She brought my mom a beautiful devotional and recounted her days at the hospital. After Mom’s visit, as I escorted Kim back to the hospital entrance, she remembered being wheeled down that  hospital corridor. She recalled the blossoms on the trees that she rolled by for another CT scan…reflections of how in the midst of despair, she yearned for another day of life, unsure of when and if she would ever leave the hospital or see another spring. 

Kim and I just before the Army/Navy football game 
as we sparred just before Bible Study

Though she is a Navy wife and I’m an Army mom, and many of us are familiar with the friendly banter shared between these two military branches, moreover we are friends and sisters in Christ. We brush past the fact that her hubs is a Navy grad and my oldest OS will soon graduate from West Point 😉 Moreover, Kim has honored her promise to the Lord and actively searches opportunities to tell her story. God uses His people when we let Him. Some of the most shameful parts of my life, things Satan would say you can never discuss because people will judge you or hate you or call you names, the Lord told me to open my mouth and no longer let those chains shackle me. He has allowed me to share parts of my former life with thousands of people because those things point to His redemption, goodness and love. Kim has done the same although her content is different. She doesn’t say no to sharing be it a large audience or the hurting grandma in Room 370 (my mom). 

Encouragement

When I prayed for my friend to get better, it didn’t occur to me that I needed her, not just as my Bible Study buddy but as an encourager to someone I love. She is teaching me things because the Lord is her teacher. So how about you? Don’t discount how YOU can be a blessing. Consider the ways your own story and suffering are touchstones intended to draw you and others closer to the God of All Comfort. Being Kim’s friend has made me more sensitive to helping others and moving beyond myself. I pray the same for you, dear friends…more soon

We are West Point Moms!

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I could barely eek out a few words before bursting into tears. We had never met and yet there was a bond between us as soon as she answered the phone. We were West Point moms at opposite ends of the 48 month adventure. The warmth in her voice removed the little resolve I had left to keep it all together. I attempted to ask some factual questions but really all I wanted to know is that she survived. Since she was still able to speak in full sentences, I perceived that as a good sign. 

The Hubs made this graph when 
Nate was a new cadet, it’s so true!

Don’t we all want to find kindred spirits, people who can help us along life’s way? I sure do. In many aspects, the desire to be encouraged and embraced is central to feeling a sense of community. Connection is what I’ve found in being a West Point Mom.

WP moms come in all sizes!

Perhaps mothers with children in traditional universities have a bond. As my middle OS begins college at Moody Bible Institute this fall, it would be nice to meet mothers who have children pursuing ministry. Yet I must be honest, my expectations will be high because West Point moms spoil each other with kindness.

Here are just a few examples of what it’s like to be a WP mom.  

This is the cutest Girl Scout delivery 
boy in El Salvador!

Recently my oldest OS went to see his bonita in El Salvador. She likes Girl Scout cookies and Nate couldn’t possibly go there empty-handed! He had bought her tea and nail polish which truly threatened his “Man Card” but Girl Scout cookies was another must-have item. Well, one quick message on facebook and a WP mom, whom Nate has never met, shipped EIGHT, yes EIGHT boxes to my boy, free of charge.

Girl Scout cookies make girlfriends happy!

Nate was hoping to avoid parking fees at the airport while on vacation in El Sal. A simple message to my WP moms and a grandma of a cadet offered Nate to park his car at her home for the week.

A mom asks for prayers and a swarm of WP moms respond with concern. A mom posts a picture of her cadet on the page and we gush as if it were our own bairn.

There is no paucity of concern or compassion. The Scripture passage found in Romans 12:15 is fitting. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.” Though most of us haven’t met in person, we understand each other. We don’t all share the same political convictions or spiritual beliefs, some don’t even use soap nuts(!) but nonetheless we are a sisterhood. We realize our cadets will most likely travel in harm’s way. We get it in ways most don’t. Current events and conflicts in foreign lands impact our children’s future. As our cadets return from Spring Break, many weepy moms lamented about missing their cadet. We reassured them and gathered them into the fold cuz that’s how WP mamas roll. 

This is a common WP mom facial
expression. It’s hard to let go!

Now I’m at the other end of this experience. Nate graduates the end of May. I don’t want it to end but I know my cadet is ready to see where life leads him.  The current trajectory is Georgia, Colorado and then possibly Kuwait.  
  

Even if you’re not a WP mom, you will enjoy this video one of my friends created. One day soon your child will embark on new journeys and it will tug on your heart even if your baby isn’t heading to the United States Military Academy. I’ve watched this video many times and I can’t get through it without shedding a tear. A picture of Nate and I at Ring Weekend is found on 00.53 of this link. What a privilege to be part of this long grey line!

26-50 things I’m thankful for

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To continue with my 50 things I’m thankful for:


26. The hubs gave me a rough draft of a book he’s creating of all my blog posts from last year. This sweet man has poured hours preparing it and it is a family treasure.

from Charles

27. For the first time in my life, I got a birthday card from Charles. Charles is the quirky alter ego of my orange hair, freckle face OS. Charles spawned an alter ego in me named Charlene. Charles and Charlene speak their own language and have unique accents. No one else in the family really likes Charles and Charlene but we/they have fun together. Thanks Charles!

28. a birthday card announcement from 
my cadet in French and Spanish

29. For my birthday, I also received a beautiful letter from my oldest OS. And, just like Nate, he forgot to sign it! 
30. Thread – I have new thread. Thread makes things happen. Oh yeah.

bibimbap, I prefer mine without the egg

31. We entertained a Korean exchange student during my birthday weekend and she made us bibimbap and other tasty Korean foods. And I’ve now eaten bracken…you’re welcome. 

bracken, fiddleheads, they are edible

32. My soap nuts arrived. I’ve been using them for two weeks – love them, seriously!
33. I finished a guest blog post – taa daa!
34. At the end of my birthday night, my middle OS Aaron gave me a video of the past year. I cried through the whole thing but only had one big crying snort, it couldn’t be helped. 
35. No snow or ice storms on my birthday. For someone born January 27th in the States, those things usually go hand in hand.

a mama of oliveshoots needs olive fabric.
but now what do I do with it? 

36. My road trip to MaryJo’s Cloth Store with friends was joyful. Four women in an SUV talking about everything without gossip is a blessing.
37. I bought some 1 1/2 yards of olive fabric. Any suggestions on what a mama of oliveshoots can do with this? 
38. I have three pounds of dried black turtle beans. They are exquisite.

= yum

39. My birthday cake from Blue Moon Bakery – simply divine with raspberry frosting, chocolate mousse filling. And it matched my hair. It’s good when your hair matches your cake.

gorgeous made from scratch poundcake

40. But before we enjoyed the bakery cake on Saturday with my extended family on Friday night, a wonderful family friend surprised me with a homemade pound cake she made from scratch. 
41. Ike’s team won their game! My orange hair, freckle face OS blazed the court on my b-day!
42. My mom does not have cancer. 
43. Balloons.
44. A singing birthday greeting from my cousin’s family. Tis a sweet melody hearing four girls who love the Lord leave a message for me.

45. another birthday announcement from my cadet – in Arabic and English! I’m pretty sure his roommate helped him with the Arabic. 
pj pants for a book lover!

46. I made a pair of pajama pants for one of my two bibliophiles. He’s going to wear them during Spirit Week. 
47. Jesus who gave me a redemptive life. 

48. Zumba which is giving me a redemptive body (maybe)…
49. Lou Malnati’s pizza from my aunt and uncle shipped from Chicago which necessitates blessing #48!

50. And lastly, another birthday greeting from my Soldier. I know this was no small feat for my OS to do, thank you precious son! 




May the words of my mouth be pleasing to you

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MOPS blessed me so much
when my OS were younger!

On Tuesday, I will be speaking to a local MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers) group. The first time I was scheduled to speak, I had to cancel due to a delay in my oldest OS’s surgery. When the group asked me again, I debated about if it was really the right thing to do, not because of MOPS at all, (I love MOPS)! but because of me.


Have you ever tried to come up with an answer for not doing something? I have, I do, I’m sure I will do it again, unfortunately. Sometimes I’ve got good reasons and other times the reasons are really just excuses. They are petty and selfish, utterly lacking sound judgment. 

“Wow, I’ve got a lot going on
but I’m not going to let it stop me!”
 
David Brainerd, the man

The great and humble missionary to the North American Indians, David Brainerd was the man. Soon I must share the impact David Brainerd’s life and testimony have had on me though he lived in the 1700’s. He struggled with depression and suffered greatly. I highly recommend reading The Life and Diary of David Brainerd. 

“Who cares about a little consumption
and depression? I’ve got work to do!” 

Thanks to the trusty stylus harnessed to my Kindle Fire, I have highlighted many of his spiritual insights. Here’s one fitting of my upcoming message and bespeaks my heart “…when God enables me sensibly to find that I have done something for him, this refreshes and animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, undergo any labors, and nothing seems too much either to do…”. Yeah, I so get this. 

I’m so diggin’ this

Now I’m wondering, what have you been recently asked to you? Did you do it? What has recently refreshed and animated you? The message I prepared this week isn’t the one I originally intended but I sense a prompting to share it. Let me be your instrument O God, feeble as I am. 

A little life remembered

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It was just a month ago around 7pm when I was at Whole Foods with the Hubs. Our plans were to get a few things and do some Christmas shopping at the local mall.

We were talking with a friend whom we happened to meet coincidentally over by the deli counter and my mobile phone rang. It was my orange hair, freckle face OS calling. I was certain he needed help solving an argument between him and his brother or maybe it was just to remind us to pick him up a grocery item. But neither were the reason for his call. His voice was heavy and I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.

“Lilly died.”

What did he say?

I nearly dropped my phone.

I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly and I didn’t want to misunderstand. I had just checked her mother’s blog that afternoon and although this little baby was medically fragile, there was no evidence that in the span of a few hours, she would be gone.

We aren’t related to Lilly in a family sense but this little girl had won our collective hearts.

Now I’m standing at Whole Foods struggling to understand this news. Suddenly all the Hubs and I wanted to do was speed through the check-out line and return home. Our family needed to be together, the errands could wait.

We walked out of Whole Foods stunned, the winter air had a quiet chill as we placed our groceries in the car. I could feel a whole community of people grieving over this profound loss. A tiny hero had passed away.

So who was Lilly? Lilly was a beloved baby born with Trisomy 18. Trisomy 18 (Edwards Syndrome) is a chromosomal disorder. Only 5-10% of children born with T18 live to see their first birthday. Lilly, aka Miss Firecracker because she was born July 4th, belied the medical community. Although T18 is commonly known as being incompatible with life, Lilly wanted nothing to do with that nonsense. For 17 months, Miss Firecracker bore witness to the fact that every life is significant.

The first time I would meet this precious child and her mother (I already know Lilly’s dad) was at the funeral home. Our entire family, including our OS who was home from West Point, loaded in the SUV to pay our respects.

I wasn’t the only one crying as we walked through the line and I will not tell you which OS also had tears in his eyes.

Dressed in a vintage christening gown with her favorite stuffed toy caterpillar near her side, Lilly looked like a tiny doll. It was necessary to share our condolences with Lilly’s family.

The line grew long as many waited to speak to her parents and offer sympathies and appreciation for loving her so well. Even though it was very emotional, the Hubs, Nate, Aaron, Ike and I had to meet this little girl who had inspired us with her fighting spirit. Lilly gave testimony to a life well lived.

The anticipation of a new baby breathes excitement into a family. But for some parents, joy is replaced with heartache when they learn that their much-loved preborn child may not survive. This book is a wonderful resource.

The anticipation of a new baby breathes excitement into a family. But for some parents, joy is replaced with heartache when they learn that their much-loved preborn child may not survive. This book is a wonderful resource.

As we reflected on the year 2011 and marked the many experiences we have shared as a family, Lilly’s life and her departure to heaven found its way into the threads of our significant moments. I am pleased to say that Lilly’s life mattered to many. Her extraordinary family remains in our prayers and continues to inspire.

Read more about Lilly and her legacy at Pray4Lilly. You will be blessed. Who has recently inspired you? I’d love to hear, please share.

And it makes me wonder…

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It’s true, mothering has allowed me 
to blossom as a woman.

I hesitated for a moment when my orange hair, freckle face OS asked me a question during dinner last night.


“Is it ever boring just staying home all day and being a mom?”


No sooner had the words parted from those teenage ruby lips when he profusely apologized for his frankness. Truly Ike has said nastier things to me without a hint of remorse (and been punished for it, thank you very much!) but it was obvious he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. 


I think it’s an honest question. But what is the correct answer? Here’s what I said.


“Sometimes it is boring but that’s usually because I’m not doing the things I need to be doing.”


It was seven and a half years before traded in my ambitious career goals and embraced the job that had been waiting for me – full-time motherhood.

The day I learned that we were going to be parents! 
Notice the EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) box 
the Hubs is holding! 

So resolute was I to stay in the business world, that upon learning that I was pregnant with my oldest OS, I ordered a TWO YEAR subscription to Working Mother magazine. I remember simultaneously nursing Nate and attempting to have a contract negotiation on the phone only ten days after his birth. But no one was going to change my opinion…not my husband, not my mom, not even my baby.


It took two more children before I figured out that the Lord had divinely appointed me to be a stay-at-home parent. I can be a bit stubborn but I was relentlessly targeted. The voice in my heart told me repeatedly that I was “perfect for the job” even if I couldn’t see my qualifications. My Heavenly Father was changing me from the inside out…

Three dudes in suits


I sincerely wrestled about what to do with my life. It wasn’t an easy decision as I recall sitting on our eggplant colored couch with the Hubs in the winter of 1998. Bless that man as he listened and encouraged me. I questioned, what if full-time motherhood was boring? What if I hated staying home with the guys? What if I was lonely? What if my brain turned to mush? The Hubs reassured me that it was going to be ok. And he was right. 

Now 13 years later, my youngest OS was lovingly challenging me to take stock at how it’s been going for me…this whole stay-at-home mom gig.

When this kid gives this mom flowers “just because”
you have to feel good about yourself! 😉

Although my boys are older, my role as their mom is still important. To have a 21 year old son who while home from West Point brings me a bouquet of flowers “just because” is evidence that I made the right decision. To be appreciated for a pantry filled with food, much of it I prepared, affirms my position in the household. When the world laments for me because I’m a mom of three sons, two of them teenage boys, I scoff at their pettiness for I am among the most blessed. 

Three legos and a football champ!

Yes, my sweet orange hair, freckle face OS, sometimes being a mother has lackluster moments but that happens with any job as you will one day discover. Jesus gave me this exalted opportunity to raise three men of honor and faith and I will forever give him praise. 

Oh and one more thing, I hope I haven’t offended anyone,
this is my personal story of transformation
and I realize other people have different mothering journeys. 

PS. I’d love to hear from you. What interesting questions have your children have posed and how you have answered them?