Category Archives: faith

Mementos from Prison

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I’m a very sentimental person. Look around my house and there’s probably a story related to just about anything you find there. The picture of daisies in the dining room? My husband took when we were in Neurenburg, Germany about 15 years ago. The photo of a man with tomatoes? That was my dad. The lithographs of two horses in the family room? They were purchased in Japan and given to us by Mark’s parents. I like to be surrounded by memories. It feels cozy, like a home should be. 

Last Sunday I returned to the States and I find myself missing El Salvador. I miss the strong breezes, the sweet people and the adventure of it all. A country I couldn’t have identified on a globe, has now found a place in my heart. I was only there for eight days but I want to remember the time and all that the Lord allowed me to experience. Being a sentimental person, I came back with very special souvenirs. 

Which is why before Thanksgiving I had Mark do some “husband training” which is my affectionate term for what my boys will one day refer to as a “Honey Do” list. Husband training is a way he can teach our OS a few ways to help around the house and become great husbands. They see it as a pain in the butt but one day, their wives will thank me (I hope!).  I thought I’d show you a few of the new treasures that are now in my home. 

This picture is of Garfield. The picture says, “I miss you.” 


This drawing says, “Thinking of you. I love you. I love you.”


Yeah, these pictures aren’t exactly going to be hanging in the Louvre anytime soon but I couldn’t stuff them in a drawer knowing who made them and gave them to me. 

Two girls at the El Salvadorian prison gave me these drawings. They even wrote something on the back of each of these pictures! We were not permitted to take pictures of the girls’ faces so we got creative. 

Each time I look at these drawings, I will remember to pray for these girls facing long sentences and difficult choices. I wept as each of these girls lovingly presented their humble gifts to me. 
Now I have remembrances of them in my home. 

My friend and fellow traveler, Beth Anne, was given a little washrag from one of the prisoners. It had a little cartoon on the cloth and might have been one of the girl’s favorite washrags, maybe even her only one, but this girl wanted to give BA something. BA has already threatened her husband saying, “I don’t care how cheesy this might look, we are going to hang this washrag up in our apartment!” I think she’s going to shadow box it which would be pretty cool. Until then, she will have a washrag hanging on her wall and that’s that. 

I also have a favorite wrist and that’s because since my return I’ve been wearing three bracelets I received from Salvador (as I often heard the natives say) which is probably like us saying “the States” as opposed to the United States of America. Our sweet, sweet translator Lulu gave me the red bracelet, a lady from a women’s conference gave me the leather bracelet which she took off her wrist and put on mine and the third, well that’s a bracelet of hope. I can’t wait to tell you about the bracelets of hope. It’s on my list of things to share but if I make this post too long, I’ll lose your attention. 

If you see my left wrist, ask me! If you see anything in my house, get ready for a story! Tell me yours too!

Spending time in prison

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P1010271When I thought about the things I wanted to do in my life, going to an El Salvadoran girls’ prison never made it to the list. Tahiti, yes. A really cool place in France where there are houses carved in the mountains, absolutely. Montana, very high on my list.

P1010263But seriously, an El Salvadoran girls’ prison, let’s face it, nowhere near the top thousand. But I have experienced two of the most emotional and tender days of my life and I would say every Christian mother needs to visit an El Salvadoran prison.

It’s almost an insult to even try to explain all that I have seen, heard and felt because all words are lacking.

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bookshelf at the prison

We entered the locked doors and teenage girls some as young as 13 began en- thusiastically greeting us. Beth Anne and I along with our wonderful translator Lulu went upstairs into the stark meeting room and the girls practically jumped for joy! It was a pretty cool to see girls so happy to see us.

About a week ago, I did something else rather unexpected. I put some blue highlights in my hair! Think the colors of a parakeet and you have a fairly good idea what it looks like. I did it on a whim and just decided to go for it.

Members of my own family, (AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) 😉 have not approved of this decision but I seriously have been wanting to do it for a while. I dyed just about 10% of my entire head…now I know why I did it. The girls in the El Salvadoran prison have LOVED it! We have definitely bonded over my stylish coif.

They have found my blue (azule) hair VERY beautiful and maybe even glamorous! So take that everyone else who hasn’t found it especially “bonita,” y’all I’ve been workin’ it at the El Salvadoran girls’ prison!

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We shared our message about hope and purity. In the middle of the presentation, the mood in the room became so precious, so sweet. Beth Anne, Lulu the translator and I were talking about the infinite love of God. His grace. His mercy. His forgiveness.

If you could have seen these girls, some serving sentences for extortion and other crimes, wiping tears from their eyes, you would have been as emotional as we were. We told them that despite all the things that they have done, and quite honestly we have done, Jesus loves us and died for our sins. There was a hush in the prison walls.

Here we were, behind bars, in a prison, with young criminals and we had the humble privilege of telling these girls that THIS place could become a place of hope and freedom because of Jesus. Lulu had to stop translating for a moment, she was so overcome with God’s presence. Tears were streaming down our faces and there was love overflowing. Even the prison guards were touched by the message as we also told these ladies that Jesus loved them.

We couldn’t take pictures of the girls’ faces but in a moment of creativity, we found a way around it. We took pictures of feet! Our feet among their feet!

And we took pictures of our hands. Our hands embracing their hands. The white hands holding the little brown hands. The women who were free to leave this prison among the girls who were going to stay.

P1010277We took pictures of our shadows. Our shadows among theirs. We took pictures with our backs to the camera with all of our arms around each other. It will be among my most treasured photos. As soon as I come home I will post the photos. You’ve got to see them.

What am I doing here? I do not deserve to be in a place like this. It is too beautiful, too moving and yet the Lord has brought me to this place for such a time as this. I am deeply, profoundly, eternally humbled.

Every Christian mother needs to spend time in an El Salvadoran prison. Put it on your list.

Going to a Cat Party

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While our oldest OS was getting buzzed through the air by a B-52 bomber thanks to the Army/Air Force game last Saturday, the rest of us attended a cat party. Yes, you read correctly, cat party. 


Nathan was walking on post at West Point when all of the sudden, the autumn air was pierced with the sounds overhead as the B-52 tore through the sky.
 
And 800 miles away, we sat at out on our neighbor’s deck and “celebrated” the return of their beloved cat, “Taylor” (not his actual name).

Even though Army lost, I think Nate had a better time than we did. It was our first cat party and there were several rather awkward moments. The strangest thing was when our neighbor joyfully announced, “We have our son back!” He made this remark stroking his furry pet as his human son stood nearby. I think Taylor brings more happiness to this man than his own child. Priorities, anyone? 


This event has allowed us an opportunity to speak about God and His unfailing love. Upon first learning of Taylor’s sudden disappearance, I immediately called our neighbors and offered our thoughts. We knew they cared a lot about their cats and assumed this was a big shock to them. A bit of mystery still brews about exactly what happened to Taylor and his disappearance. They are convinced it was the result of their arch enemies aka, the neighbors across the street, but that doesn’t make much sense to me.

Anyway, the husband came over a little later and told me how deeply touched they were by our kind thoughts. I told him we were sincerely sorry to hear about Taylor and said that we were praying for them.

A couple days later, the neighbor dropped by again. As he was talking to my husband, I ushered him to our kitchen and pointed to our blackboard. On the blackboard, I had listed a variety of people we were praying for. I wanted him to see his family’s name prominently placed on the board. I had no idea he was coming over so I didn’t secretly write their name or anything like that. It had been there all along. I distinctly remember our neighbor being very moved by this and for a moment, I thought he was going to cry. 

I told him that God cared about everything, even things the world would deem trivial, He still cared. It blows me away when I think that there is a Lord who cares about about every aspect of us.

Which includes the owners of Taylor, the cat





And this country I’ll be in, Lord willing, this time next week

And an imperfect sinner like me.


All reasons to celebrate and rejoice this day! Remember this the next time you’re invited to a cat party or have a B-52 overhead, both of which I hope don’t happen to you anytime soon!

Happy Birthday!

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Here are some fun things we got Ike for his 12th birthday!

I found this simple awesome book, “You Gotta Be Kidding!51Z2k-utL8L” by Randy Horn.

It is a crazy book of “would you” questions.

Would you rather
Turn into a fly
OR
turn into a cockroach?

Would you rather
Have no teeth and try to eat a big bowl of caramel popcorn
OR
try to eat four bagels?

Would you rather
Get poison ivy all over your rear end
OR
between all your fingers and toes?

Out of all the gifts we gave our youngest OS, so far this book seems to be the gift he likes the most.

Ike completely grossed me out as we drove to my nephew Jon’s 3rd birthday party. Anytime a 12 year old can repulse his mom is a good day. Although I can usually keep pace with my three OS in the gross department, I must say You Gotta Be Kidding pushed me to the limit. By the time we arrived, I had more than a day’s worth of disgusting questions about spit and pus. It was fun though, I think it will elicit some interesting dinnertime conversations!

974890_1_ftc_dpThen Ike got a new CD collection of Adventures in Odyssey stories.

You should listen to this wonderful series of radio programs by Focus on the Family. Ike learns Biblical truth in an entertaining and educational way and whenever I join him, I always find a fresh word from the Lord.

They aren’t preachy or lecturing, they are humorous and truly worthwhile. You can also listen to the series on the radio with this link. Ike does this all the time, too!

And I found this Flip-to-Win hangman travel game for Ike. It is a wooden game with an erasable whiteboard and self-storing dry-erase marker. It should be cool to use when we make longer car rides and I’m hoping Ike will let me borrow this for my trip to El Salvador on Nov. 1551i-YcC+PSL._SX342_.

Mark was out of town on Ike’s birthday but being the great daddy he is, he wrote on a card for his boy.

In the card, Mark included a handmade coupon entitling Isaac to his all-time favorite dinner.

Crab legs.

Isaac has been asking for crab legs since the last time he had them. I think if our growing boy actually paid for crab legs, he would ask less often!

So after eating pizza and birthday cake at Jon’s b-day, we went to Sam’s Club and I purchased $47 worth of giant Alaskan king crab legs. We gorged on the ocean’s delectable treasures.

Sounds like a fitting way to celebrate our sweet boy! Psalm 127:3 “Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.”

Monday

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I’m feeling old today. Old and dumb. 


I went to the doctor and got a steroid/lidocaine shot in my knee because of arthritis pain. 

Plus my face looks old and weary. I need to go back to the gym. 

And my poor son has been trying for TWO days to help me install AIM via cell phone conversations and we are having no luck! Praise the Lord, Nate has been patient with me but it has been a VERY frustrating experience with very little progress. 

It’s times like this that I feel pretty badly about myself.

So I’ll try and concentrate on my morning. After taking the guys to school, I went grocery shopping. This time my experience at the grocery store did not involve projectile salt or on a foot scooter! Thank goodness! While there I had an encounter with the lady at the deli counter which ended much better than it began. I don’t seem to have a lot of luck at the deli counter. At the risk of sounding very prejudice, I find that people who work with lunch meat to generally have very lousy attitudes. 

I fearfully approached the deli counter having noticed that its normal hours of operation are 9am-9pm. I was an hour early. The lady looked up and half-heartedly asked me if I needed something. Trepedaciously (ew, big word!), I asked her if she wouldn’t mind helping me even though I was an hour early. Her curt reply was, “what do you want?” Allrighty then, I said to myself and cautiously ordered a half pound of ham off the bone.

But something inside of me wasn’t content to leave our connection in such a miserable way and so I persisted in engaging her in conversation. It was risky but we pressed on discussing the chilly weather, the terrible economy, etc. 

As I placed another order, this time for a half-pound of provolone cheese, I offered her a word of encouragement. “Even though the economy is bad and it seems like a lot of scary things are happening, let me tell you what our pastor preached on yesterday. Our preacher told us that in spite of all this uncertainty, God is.”

Her whole attitude changed and as then I ordered a quarter pound of pancetta. Pancetta for minestrone tonight!  Two semi-thick slices. By the end of our conversation, I had invited her to our church and I asked for her name and she moved her apron to show me. Her name was Mary. She wanted to exchange phone numbers! Although we probably have a lot of differences on a host of issues, I was blessed to leave Mary with a smile on her face. Her entire attitude had changed.

So I need to concentrate on my encounter with Mary and NOT my wrinkles, my pain, my concerns and troubles. I need to keep my eyes on the Lord, He will fail me not. 

Oh happy day – letters after R-Day

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P1040208On July 9, 2007 while just exiting a restroom in Lima, Peru, I got mugged. My pricey camera was pulled off my shoulders and back and that was probably one of the most startling events of my life.

Fast forward a year, I’m back home and this July 9 is joyous. Yeah, we have a stomach virus wreaking havoc on our family but it’s all good.

Our son wrote us!

In our mailbox, I discovered not one, not two, not three but FOUR letters from our boy!

There are not enough exclamation points to describe how I feel to read his words and glean his personality. Here are just a few and I’ll try not to be obnoxious!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!P1040207

I count it a privilege that our NC (military word for New Cadet) took the precious time to write.

Some parents have yet to hear from their child and I feel for them deeply. I do not take it for granted we have these paper treasures from our soldier and will guard them close to my heart forever.

As we gathered around the family room to read his letters, I thought to myself that this is what it used to be like before email, AIM and facebook.

Writing letters is a forgotten art and in some way, I have enjoyed putting pen to paper. I’m a writer so it comes fairly naturally but my two remaining OS certainly aren’t but what sweet messages have poured from their fingers. Aaron sends funny drawings, Ike sends Scripture.

Aaron writes about the day’s happenings.

Ike shares that he has thrown up.

My DH dashed another letter out to Nathan as soon as he read Nate’s messages. They are so beautiful, I have no choice but to weep.

Without violating his privacy, I think some of you would enjoy knowing a few details but let me tell you the latest on the toe.

Although still purple, his big toe feels much better since he got it drained. Getting a toe drained doesn’t sound like fun but I’m relieved to know he’s ok. I wrote him that he had so many prayers that not only should that toe be healed in Jesus’ name but quite possibly he might have grown a third big toe as a spare!

p1040211Please keep praying not only for our family but for the other cadet families out there eagerly awaiting news from their NC.

It’s tough when no news comes your way.

In a few days, we anticipate phone calls and I can’t wait to hear his voice.  Major props to my homeslice Beth Anne who documented the first few moments when the letters arrived, love you, BA!

Getting letters from your son is better than getting mugged in South America, that’s a fact, Jack! HUAH big time!

Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.”

Head to toe prayers

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web-1The United States Military Academy requires its cadets to send a letter out to parents within the first few days of Beast (Cadet Basic Training).

Today we were overjoyed to get a coveted letter from our son.

We haven’t been able to talk to Nate since our farewells. Apparently next week we will get a 10 minute call from him. I will be sitting by the phone on the specified days and potential times until I get to hear his voice.

In the meantime, a one-page handwritten letter will suffice. In the letter, Nate indicated he had a tough day and received a lot of “personal attention.” One thing you don’t want at West Point is “personal attention.” The mom in me wants to make the 12 hour trek in my mini-van and just pick up my boy but that’s not what he wants or needs. He will prove it to himself that he can do all things through Christ who strengthens him.

a5ee1-p1040184What Nathan needs is prayer.

Specifically for his big toe.

He smashed it a few days ago and it has turned purple.  This might seem like a strange prayer request but for a new cadet going through Beast (Basic Cadet Training), it’s a huge deal.

I cut my big toe on my honeymoon in Portugal, and trust me, big toes are very useful.

For the remainder of my honeymoon in Portugal and Spain, I walked around with stitches on the bottom of my big toe. That’s when I learned the value of phalanges.

My son is learning the truth behind God’s Word found in Psalm 139:14 “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” He needs his big toes and probably will never take them for granted again.

If you read this post, please lift my boy, head to toe, inside and out, body and spirit up to the Lord along with all the other cadets.

Feeling better – mama of a soldier presses on…

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RDay 063

We are currently experiencing a drought in our part of the country and if I had collected my tears in some type of container, (an incredibly large container), I think I personally could have solved the problem two days ago.

Today is a better day although it was quite painful walking into the house and past my son’s room. 

This picture is of the two OS and me while still at West Point featuring four items of USMA gear along with the jade necklace my friend whose husband is serving in Korea.

The last thing I want to be is maudlin so I’m concentrating on good things. 

I don’t even like the the word maudlin, therefore I’m trying my best to not be characterized as such. 

Instead, I’m going the other extreme by wearing  

– my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt with
– my West Point Class of 2012 matching canvas bag
– while driving my mini-van with the Proud Parent of West Point Class of 2012 bumper sticker
and reading Absolutely American (an amazing West Point book, highly recommend) and sporting my West Point Class of 2012 baseball cap.

My husband has – 
– a West Point Parent license plate holder
– a West Point Dad Class of 2012 t-shirt

– a West Point golf shirt

P1020552– an Army baseball cap and

– a Proud Parent to be a West Point Cadet’s Parent bumper sticker
along with an Army lapel pin.

Can you notice a theme here? Does it seem just a little over the top? Who cares! 

In some way, it connects us. I might wash my West Point Mom shirt in a couple of days if it starts to stink but I will stay in the laundry room and put it on as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Do you think I’m kidding!? I’m not! 

Despite hundreds of miles that separate us, I am tethered to my child by these small efforts.
Since I like to sew, earlier this spring, I made Isaac a pair of camo-boxer shorts and a camo-pillow case.

My nephew Josiah now has a camo-bib. I also sewed a camo-apron.

Suddenly my favorite colors are either red, white and blue or black, grey and gold. I can’t be there with him while he is learning “knowledge” or doing push-ups or making his bed with incredible speed and execution so in spirit, this is my mama’s way of showing support. 

He doesn’t know it but I do and it makes me feel better = less tears.

I cried so much on Monday that I had salt deposits under my eyes.

My two OS said, “Mom you have this white stuff under your eyes.” I went to the restroom at West Point and it wasn’t Kleenex, it wasn’t makeup, it was dried up tears. Yeah, it was that bad. 

While at the Panera Bread line today, wearing my West Point Mom Class of 2012 t-shirt, a man approached me and said that he used to attend the Sunday night concerts up there by the tip of the Hudson River. I saw that place just a few days ago and it brought me a measure of joy. I felt connected and held back the floodgates.

During this time of transition though I have to share this with you.

I haven’t been able to collect my tears and find a useful purpose for them but someone has.

It is God.

Scripture says in Psalm 56:8 “You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle–are they not in Your book?”  

I can’t tell you how many times I have clung to that truth. If you know people who are hurting, sad or lonely, share that timeless message with them. God is recording their tears in His bottle, on His scroll.

They matter to Him. And if you see me, for goodness sake, please compliment me on my new USMA fashions, it will help this mama of a soldier!

Go Army, Beat Navy!

Check out how things are going as we now await “the phone call” and a silly way we included our NC into a little family fun!

Link to a newscast about R-Day at West Point, I wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes!

Btw, I love all your comments and stories and want to put them in a future post. They are inspiring even to non-military folks! Keep ’em coming!

R-Day, 60 seconds

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“You have 60 seconds to say your farewells,” a member of the cadre announced as we all stood and prepared for our goodbyes.

A petite framed cadet whom I really wanted to hate was just doing her job. I don’t envy her of having the task of separating parent and family from child.

It was like every sentence she was saying felt like a Peanuts cartoon where Snoopy just hears, “blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Of course all of us knew it was coming, the mood was solemn as we all filed in and took our seats. I wasn’t the only weepy mom in the bunch so I felt a kindred spirit among us.

Oh I held him so tight. Be strong, be strong, I tried to remind myself.

Oh I held him so tight. Be strong, be strong, I tried to remind myself.

There was such a feeling of love and pride, but we all entered into some private, intimate place in our hearts and hugged our babies for the final time for a long while like we were the only ones in the place. Nate grabbed his meager belongings and confidently strode to the front of the auditorium and never looked back.

That was a good thing because if I had seen his face one more time, I would have taken it as a sign to rush forward to get him. I know he is divinely placed where the Lord wants him to be and this is perhaps the most unselfish thing I have ever done as a mother. We prayed and prayed for the Lord to put him where he was supposed to go. I cannot second guess my Heavenly Father. Saying goodbye and letting my beloved child set forth into a new life, I am filled with tears and pride, both never ending.

I remember child birth being very painful but this is really rough. I was in labor for four hours, and it hurt like crud and this process is much longer. West Point is such an austere and noble place, I am humbled to have a son who is in the class of 2012 and have the hat, t-shirt and matching handbag to prove it. I shall be wearing black, gold and gray for a really long time. There is a dignity and a respect I don’t recall seeing at other college campuses we visited. This is the right place for my son and I am thankful to have met a lot of nice guys Nathan will soon be calling friends. Take a look and click here at this link to see what his first day was like. OY!

We are all entering a new phase in our lives. After saying our farewells, there were two floors of vendors and organizations to greet us. Nearly ever booth had a box of Kleenex. It was reassuring to see that in the midst of all this decorum and granite, they had chiseled out a lot of compassion and concern.

We arrive home tomorrow and I do laundry which will include some of Nathan’s dirty clothes. It will be the saddest load of laundry I have ever done in my life thus far. I found the toe nail clippers he used before we dropped him off at West Point. They were in the hotel bathroom and yep, I cried.

The Hubs and I weren't the only ones struggling.

The Hubs and I weren’t the only ones struggling.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart. I am the mama of a soldier. I am the PROUD mama of a soldier. Go Army, Beat Navy, Huah!

Psalm 63:7- 8

For you have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.
My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me.

Little buddy Monday and Tuesday

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An absolutely adorable work in progress

An absolutely adorable work in progress

Well, two of my three children are in trouble.

I hate the term “grounded,” as it conjures up bad memories of my own rebellious adolescence so I will refrain from the terminology.

It could be a long and lonely summer at our house because unfortunately our guys are proving there is great truth in James 3:6

“The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body.”

So instead of being able to use their tongue in conversation with their friends, their punishment is to spend time with me.

It’s funny to consider that I am a form of punishment but it’s true.

Aaron, my middle OS had his iPod, book and electric guitar removed from his possession and it has been replaced with laundry, a vacuum and his Bible.

Everything is fine right now, he has apologized and we’re moving forward, thank goodness but restrictions are a consequence of his actions!

We have work to do and I’m not backing down on raising three godly young men of honor.

That’s my job and I can’t give up, can’t back down, wimp out, no way, ain’t gonna happen, nuh-uh, no way Jose.

With one son preparing to leave our nest and go off to West Point, my prayer is to see the two remaining guys ready to do amazing things in their lives. They don’t have to be cookie cutter fellas but my heart’s cry is for them to glorify the Lord in all they do.

So yesterday Isaac was my companion and today, well, both Aaron and Isaac are by my side. We could be spending a lot of time together if they don’t watch out.

Ike and I did errands and such and despite it being a punishment, I think he had some fun. I called it Little Buddy Monday and it looks like it’s Middle Buddy Tuesday also.

Instead of strumming the guitar or hanging out with friends, the guys went with me to Nate’s final pediatrician visit.

Nate got three shots, a TB test and three vials of blood drawn.

And to his chagrin, I documented a vast majority of it because I knew you would want to see.

Yes, we all looked like goobers but times like this are ending as my oldest OS begins his journey at West Point in a matter of weeks.

I only get one more shot (pardon the pun). I took this picture of the door when the guys and I were politely asked to leave for the more “personal” parts of the exam.

I ended up feeling a little wistful as I realized that my 18-year-old son is grown. He can see the pediatrician up to 21 years of age but who does that? I can so easily remember the days when these doctors were measuring his head circumference, checking for ear infections, etc.

Today Nate didn’t need nor want my hand to hold although when he had a woozy moment, I was able to stroke his peaked head (I think I needed it more than he did).

Now he is venturing off to grown up places and I entered the pediatrician’s office feeling like we were turning another page. I think it was a blessing it was Little Buddy Tuesday after all.

So our summer begins and parts of our life kind of end. Will there be a Little Buddy Wednesday? Probably! Who knows! Stay tuned!

This was Nate enjoying a little Motts Totts juice box to help him not pass out.

Sigh…