Oh what a beautiful day!

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I am always confused on October 8. Do I feel sad? Is it okay to feel happy? Am I a bad person if I forget? Am I not moving on if I want to cry? It’s 24 hours that I want to hurry up and get over with already.

October 8th is the day my dad died. It was 24 years ago.
But I don’t want to talk about the strangeness of the day. It is what it is and I muddle through it one way or the other. Rather, I want to share with you how the Lord smiled on this day, thanks to a magnificent day at Duke Gardens and two of my awesome OS.

Early this afternoon, Aaron, Ike and I journeyed to enjoy 55 acres of horticultural heaven. There wasn’t a place on the premises that wasn’t breathtaking and inspiring. With my guys home for Fall Break, I wanted to do something today but I wasn’t certain they would consider hanging out with me, in a garden no less, to be their version of fun. What a blessing when Aaron, my 15 year old OS enthusiastically announced that he wanted to go!

Ike brandished the camera and took most of the shots. We saw the coolest pond with remarkable water plants. I was walking to the pond when the OS motioned for me to pay attention. I hadn’t seen the blue heron directly ahead. It was perfectly motionless, as if it were just waiting for its picture to be taken. Then suddenly, it stealthily inched forward and nabbed a goldfish in its pointy beak. My orange haired, freckle-faced nearly 13 year old OS captured the moments as the heron gulped the goldfish down its skinny neck! What a sight to see! I also think we heard the heron burp!

We loved the bamboo plants, the American Beautyberry with its juicy purple berries, the ZigZag Bridge, really everything. And I just wished we had Smell-a -Vision because y’all, our noses were equally delighted with fragrances of apricot, roses and gardenia filling the air.

There are moments when being a mom is truly wonderful. If you have read some recent posts, you are aware that I have also recently experienced days when mothering has been grueling!
Throughout our two hour stroll, I had been saying that the Lord had truly blessed this day and to my delight, Aaron offered a heartfelt “Amen!” to my comments.

And I laughed when I started to complain that my rickety knee was annoying me and Aaron echoed that his hip was bothering him and Ike chimed in that his ankle was beginning to hurt! How splendid that we all made it through the afternoon nearly pain-free!

So I approached October 8 with some trepidation but saw that the Lord allowed me a joyous day far beyond what I could have expected. If you are like me, you probably have a day or two which you dread, may this post offer you a new perspective.

Rain on my soul

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Writing is often my healthy outlet for expressing my feelings. Tears stream from my face as I sit in the Critical Care Waiting Area at the hospital. My mom is having heart catherization in a matter of moments and for some reason, I am a wreck.

I feel like I’m going to lose it. My brain seems to be detached from the rest of my body. In the last four weeks, I have been to three different hospitals for three different people, one of them being myself. I drove to the hospital and missed the turn. When I came to the familiar intersection, I had to call my husband to ask him which way to turn.
 
I got into the parking lot and don’t ask me how, but I found myself driving against the arrows. When I finally pulled into a parking spot, I was completely confused. I tried to walk down a flight of stairs but they were blocked. It was as if the hospital had moved from the time I had entered the parking lot!
 
I walked into the hospital and began looking for my stepfather. The ladies at the front desk asked me if I was having any flu symptoms. I told them no and asked them if they are now having to inquire everyone about this. I didn’t ask this in a sassy way but perhaps, I sounded a little frazzled. It was interesting that they said no so I’m wondering if I was acting so weird they thought something must be wrong with me!
 
Praise the Lord a kindly volunteer escorted me to the Heart Catherization Area. I shutter to think of where I would be if he hadn’t shown me where to go.

Then I saw my mom and I don’t know why but I struggled to keep it together. The nurses were going to show her a video about the procedure and I knew I couldn’t handle it. So here I sit by myself, watching Judge Mathis, writing to you, whoever you are.
 
It is a rainy day. My dad died 25 years ago on October 8th. Maybe that’s the reason I am having a rough time…

When strangers speak the truth

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Have you ever had someone who doesn’t really know you, say something very profound to you?

And have you noticed that when that happens, that person usually is clueless as to the depth of the statement s/he has just made?

If you answered yes to these questions, you will understand what happened to me today at the Apple Store.

I had scheduled a One-on-One appointment with a skilled Apple technician because as of Wednesday, I became the proud owner of a brand new aluminum 15″ MacBookPro. This computer purchase was necessitated because I was never the owner of the MacBookPro I have been using years with my job.

But when I lost my job in June, essentially I lost all rights to that computer. It wasn’t mine, was never mine and they deserved to get it back. It’s as simple as that. On this cloudy summer day, I brought both computers to the Apple Store to make sure I had transferred all the personal stuff from the old computer to my new “baby.”

Austin, the Apple guy, guided me through the process and everything was going quite well. I had been looking forward to the appointment and getting the job done. With great ease, Austin helped me and erased non-work items off the computer.

And then he said it…

“There won’t be any trace of you on this computer.”

And with a nod of my head, Austin clicked a few more things and 1,866 items began to disappear before my very eyes.

I choked back the tears. I thought to myself, “Don’t cry. Don’t. Cry. You’re at the Apple Store for Pete sake! Puh-lease!”

So I adjusted my emotional big girl panties and didn’t cry. Wow, that wasn’t easy! There were some quiet and awkward moments where neither Austin nor I spoke.

Photo flashback of my previous life. I was blessed to do this and relieved when it was all over. Eight years was enough.

Photo flashback of my previous life. I was blessed to do this and relieved when it was all over. Eight years was enough.

I composed myself and watched the computer transition from being something I used and personalized to being just another piece of work equipment ready for someone else. Austin was right. There isn’t any trace of me on the computer.

I hope I will be remembered for the work I did and the love I poured into it. But more importantly, as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, oh how I want to have lived a life that matters. I pray that the traces of me I leave behind are worthy of the life I was given.

Psalm 103:15-16 and verse 22
As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field;
the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place remembers it no more.
Praise the LORD, all his works everywhere in his dominion.
Praise the LORD, O my soul.

Nate and his shadow

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When my orange-haired, freckle face son Isaac was in fourth grade, he got to be a Kinder-Buddy. This tradition is intended to help the little kids transition to the rules and structure of school. Most people get just one Kinder-Buddy in their lifetime. Ike got three. Two got kicked out of school and the other he only had for a week. I’m not sure how much mentoring took place in that short time!

Now I have a son at West Point and in a way he’s got his own Kinder-Buddy. That’s because every yearling (also known as a yuk also known as a second year college student) gets a new cadet (soon to be known as a plebe also known as a freshman college student) to take under his/her wing. We’re hoping he will have more success than Isaac!

When Nate returned to WP on Sunday, he got to meet his new cadet. Josh (not his real name) and Nate will be spending a fair amount of time together.

I really like this about West Point; that the importance of strong leadership and mentoring is stressed. This allows my son to hone his skills as a compassionate and knowledgeable leader. Judging from how Nate takes being the oldest son very seriously, I’m sure he will rise to the challenge with Josh.

It’s also given me a chance to do my part in the process. On Saturday night my friend Carol posted something on facebook about getting some treats for her yuk to give to his new cadet. It sounded like a great idea but I wasn’t sure if my son would want to do that. I have to tread lightly on certain things. It was about 8pm when I asked Nate if I could bake something for his new cadet and was surprised when he said sure. Sometimes my OS isn’t too keen on my suggestions and offers for help, but he actually seemed happy when I made the offer.

So after dinner I made my OS’s mystery cadet some homemade chocolate chip cookies. Thank goodness for the internet because I didn’t have brown sugar and found a recipe which contained all the ingredients I had on hand. They tasted good and I was happy.


When Nate met his new cadet on Sunday (they don’t become plebes until A-Day which is August 15), Nate

introduced himself and then gave the guy the cookies. Nate had also picked Josh up some candy and soda and those are treasured and coveted items when you’re a new cadet. In the days leading up to A-Day, it’s easy for new cadets to feel lower than pond scum.

Aside from going to the bathroom, basically Josh can’t go anywhere without Nate. Josh needs books, Nate’s got to go with him. Josh is hungry, Nate is with him at every meal. My OS says he feels like he has a child or a pet! HA!

Once you become a full-fledged plebe, it’s not a whole lot better. How nice that at the very least, Josh will have a person who treats him with respect and will help him become his best. According to Nate, the guy was gushing with thanks after receiving the snacks. “Corporal, that’s awesome! Thanks, Corporal!” (It makes me smile to think of someone calling my baby “Corporal.”)

When some people are in leadership positions, they use their authority to abuse and demean those below them. We’ve all had horrible bosses, terrible teachers; you know those people who were completely inept and woefully in charge. But I know personally that when people take interest in my life, I am definitely more apt to follow their direction and try my best. I’d like to think that I have unknowingly passed on some lessons on how to treat others and inspire. And if I have done that, NONE of the glory goes to me by the way, it’s only because of Jesus!

I also liked what I heard about Josh. According to my son, not only did Josh like my cookies but he shared them with his buddies.

Until school starts, Nate’s new cadet will tag along wherever Nate goes. This semester, Nate will serve as this young man’s encourager, motivator, mentor and if necessary, butt-kicker. My OS is well-suited for this position!

Being still

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Now that I’m back home after a great vacation, I face an empty nest. The guys started school today and Nate leaves for West Point on Sunday. It’s the first time in my life where my kids are at school, the hubs is at work and I’m home without babies or a job.


It reminds me of the time when my youngest OS was old enough to go to a gymnastics class by himself. I had longed for the day when Ike was old enough for me to not be there. When that day arrived; however, soon after dashing to the grocery store, I vividly recall pushing the empty cart along the aisles at Kroger and fighting back the tears. My orange-haired, freckle faced toddler was not squeezing me. Instead my stupid purse filled the place where Ike used to be. Oh, how I loved madly embracing that cherub mid-turn at the end of each grocery aisle and I didn’t care who saw us or what they thought! (Tears are falling from my eyes just thinking about this…)

But here I am now, a chapter of my life is unfolding. I am adrift and possess a blank canvas of opportunity. Oh, the possibilities!

The varied bass tones which fill my home will be making noise elsewhere. I feel the void and the quiet. Everyone is going forward. Where am I going? I am not going back to a familiar job that I loved and was pretty good at. It is weird, because about this time last year, I was busy scheduling speaking opportunities. Now that season of life is over. Poof. Just like that. I am relieved because the work was so draining and sad because I loved the kids and the message we shared. If I could color my feelings, they would be a dark mustard (for the sad feelings) and a streak of pink (representing excitement.) Yes, it is an awkward and ugly collection of hues.

So what is next? I’m taking a Wednesday morning Bible study and I’m going to lead a girls’ Bible on Monday night. That much I know. And honestly with this extra time I now have, my house can be cleaner, I could be leaner, that list of improvements, both personal and otherwise, is long.
Many Bible verses pop into my head but this one has echoed within me…from Psalm 46…

Be still and know that I am God

That’s where I am, keepin’ it real…

Sea glass is so lovely

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Taking a leisurely walk on the beach in the morning with the hubs, the ocean’s frothy waves roll onto my feet and I spot a little treasure. You don’t find too many intact seashells these days but you can still find wonders. Yesterday I began collecting something new…I now collect sea glass.

Sea glass is created when a piece of glass falls into the ocean. Stupid knuckleheads chuck beer and soda bottles into the ocean and the water and sand tumble and smooth the sharp edges. The result is pretty pieces of smooth, frosted glass in a variety of colors.
The more I searched for sea glass, the more I found!

Sometimes I’d find sea glass in a mass of shells and sand. I’d see slivers of shells made of tans and soft oranges and suddenly, a piece of sea glass in a minty green or a gentle turquoise would emerge. Or a beautiful piece of amber sea glass would peek in sand, the result of a wave. My heart skipped a beat when that would happen.


Later in the day, two of my OS joined me and soon we began a new collection…of shark’s teeth. And then I began another new collection, I began searching for shells to spell my name. I thought it would be impossible to find a “Y” and no sooner had I said that, when I gazed at a shell in my hand and realized that a “Y” was carved right on the shell! Talk about fun!


But sea glass and I have a few things in common. I confess that there are some jagged places in my past and plenty of broken pieces. Life has tumbled me about and I have been tossed by the waves of the world. As I reflect on my life, the good and the bad, the things I did to myself and others and the things that have happened to me, I have seen how the Lord has used those pieces formerly tossed aside to ultimately make something of worth. He has smoothed out the rough places, (ok, some of the rough places as I’m an ongoing project!) and the things I assumed were junk and created a person of greater value. Like sea glass, I have experienced a transformation. I am a new creation. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old is gone, the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17


We have one more day to go before going home. I can’t wait to comb the sand for more sea glass to serve as a memory of what God can do for even a wretch like me.

We did it! Thanks Pistol Pete!

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I’ve never been a big fan of 11 year old kids reading the f-bomb. I don’t know, I guess I’m weird like that.

And so you can only imagine my horror 18 months ago when my orange-haired, freckle faced, youngest OS announces one day that the book his daddy got him had that lovely word printed ON THE VERY FIRST PAGE! I nearly fell out of my chair.

It was a basketball book entitled Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich and the reason the hubs bought it for our OS is because Isaac loves basketball. Our OS needed to work on his reading and boy, was I glad our OS said something about the curse word! Faced with a dilemma, do I throw the book in the trash or take it back to Borders, I took immediate action. I chose to do neither but I did do something with that book I never expected.

I read it out loud to my son. The G-rated, completely edited and censored version, of course.

And guess what?

I loved every minute of it. We finished the book on Friday. 323 pages, 18 months, we did it!

If you know me at all, you know I am not a sports person. Much to my OS’s chagrin, I still can’t remember the positions they play in their respective sports. It drives them nuts! And for the last year and a half, Ike and I have been reading a book about the great basketball legend, Pete Maravich.

When we finished I seriously wanted to cry. It was an accomplishment and a blessing. We didn’t merely read the book; we took it deeper. We talked extensively about the book. Pistol Pete Maravich was a complex man with a difficult life. He had many excesses and demons, he had a complicated childhood ~ there were many dimensions to this man. This book touched both of our hearts.

And we did even more than that. We did A LOT of vocabulary. Always by our side was the trusty Webster’s. At times, my OS loathed that dictionary with a passion but together we learned words such as:
mollify, triumvirate, augur, majordomo, chaw, vestigial, bonanza, vituperative, excoriate, progency, ignominy, assiduous, junto, bifurcated ~ nearly 200 words my OS searched. It turns out I don’t think Ike could have read this book without me. It was an advanced read for both of us but so worth it.

We learned so much ~ about Pete Maravich (he came to know Jesus and died of a heart condition while playing basketball with Dr. James Dobson) and we learned things about each other too. Sometimes, while I read to Ike, he would draw and despite countless emotional outbursts “I hate this stupid book!” “I don’t want to read!” (read this in your loudest, most emotional 12 year old boy voice!), we didn’t give up. The time we had with each other makes me feel that this “fait accompli” has blessed us with an “inexorable” experience which has left me feeling “ebullient” inside. How’s that for using my new words?


I must share with you another book we read together which was delightful which was very different than Pistol. I’ll do that soon, it’s just the best.

Any ideas as to what to read next are welcome. I’m really proud of us. Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t read to older kids. You’re missing out on a treat, seize those special moments.

Thanks to a curiously placed cuss word, I got treasured time with my OS which beats sitting in front of the stupid box (TV) any day.

PS. Don’t tell Ike that I’m working on a comprehension test next. 😉 Spelling and grammar will count!

On the mission field, part two ~ new creation

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It occurred to me that this young mother didn’t want just anyone to cut her two year old’s hair…she wanted ME! WHAT??? Didn’t she know that I had never cut anyone’s hair, including my own three OS? Didn’t she know I farmed out that service to qualified hands? Where’s a Sports Clips or a Great Clips when you need one?

The mom returned, scissors in hand and I ridiculously asked her what kind of haircut she wanted her daughter to have. This is funny because it wasn’t like I had a variety of coifs from which to choose. That’s when she blew my mind and informed me that the child in front of me with a long, thick ponytail wasn’t a girl ~ this little person was a boy! Huh? And his name was Richard, not Ricardo. Dumbfounded I stood by a dusty boulder in this forsaken village. The pressure was on. My heart pounded faster.

I prayed to Jesus and put the scissors in my hand and began the job. Richard was the best client a stylist as new and inexperienced as I could ever want. So still, so patient, if he only knew who was about to give him his first haircut! At first I just simply cut the long ponytail but as I looked at the precious face before me, something came over me. I felt empowered to do more. The scissors began trimming around Richard’s ears, giving him bangs, the whole works. There was some styling going on! Richard’s mom gathered some of his locks into a plastic bag I as many American moms have done in the past. I don’t believe I cut Richard’s hair. I believe God did.


Then she asked me my name and told me that the first person who cuts a baby’s hair became that child’s godmother. Oh my goodness.

I stood there, astonished and handed the young mama the bottle of shampoo. At long last, the Bumble and Bumble had found its rightful owner. She gave a heartfelt thank you and scooped up Richard. Just before it was time to board the bus and say farewell, this Peruvian mama returned and paraded Richard in front of me. She must have taken him into her simple abode and used the shampoo immediately. There in front of me stood Richard, his hair was freshly washed, wearing a collared shirt looking cute as can be. This child looked like a little boy!

I wonder what my OS is learning and where he is in Guatemala. What are his stories? I can’t wait to know! I’ve learned this and I’m sure he is as well. The Lord can use our simple gifts, our imperfect efforts (which I have in abundance.) This is the power of transformation.

I have another story about shampoo, this time in El Salvador. Do you want to hear it? Tell me your story about transformation, I’d love to hear it!

Being on the mission field, part one

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Prior to going to Guatemala, I gave my middle OS a project. A crafting project. Most 14 year old boys don’t really like doing crafts. My 14 year old boy is no exception but with constant prodding on behalf of his mom, my son made these…

Aren’t they pretty? So simple and cheap but I just know that God is going to use that boy and these necklaces in a powerful way. How do I know? Because two years ago I had a similar experience. Not with a craft item but with a simple bottle of shampoo.

In July 2007, I went to Lima, Peru on a mission trip. Prior to leaving my hairstylist, (the one who puts pink highlights in my hair), gave me a big bottle of Bumble and Bumble shampoo to use there. Not for my head, there would be no vanity on this trip, but because we were going to be washing children’s hair. In certain areas of Peru, people can’t even afford shampoo, it is a luxury they often do without. I packed it eagerly curious as to what the Lord had in store.

Weeks later, to my astonishment, I found myself washing children’s hair on a filthy, dirt-covered street. The kids would just line up and with nary a peep, we would pour cold water from a hose on their head. With plastic gloves, I would squirt a dollop of shampoo on their little charcoal black heads and proceed to wash their thick Peruvian hair. We used buckets to rinse the water and their attentive mothers would just look on and act so grateful. It was rather amusing because there were even adult men lining up for our hair washing services but we had to decline and concentrate just on the kids.

It was our last day on the mission field. The big bottle of shampoo I was given had been too cumbersome to lug around for our hair washing projects so I still had it in my possession. I certainly wasn’t going to be taking it back home with me. I trusted it was meant for someone else so I placed big bottle in my backpack determined to give it to someone deserving.

We arrived at an impoverished village. The ramshackle homes spoke of a hard life bereft of most creature comforts. I helped prepare chicken foot (yes, chicken FOOT) soup and served hot chocolate to the scads of children milling about.
Another group washed hair and when we were nearly all done, a mother approached me. Through the help of a translator, she asked me if we cut hair. I knew I didn’t cut hair so I went the easy route and said we didn’t have any scissors. Then she told me, not to worry, she had scissors.

Because I’m so quick on my feet (HA!), I presumed someone could do it and I told this mama we could probably do that. I went inside the bus and asked if anyone cut hair. No one listened to me and then it occurred to me that she wanted ME to cut her child’s hair…something I have never done before, not in my own country and certainly not in South America…


I’ll write another post and tell you what happened next…

June 29th is a curious day

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What is up with these kids of mine? They are all gone as of Monday. And what is up with June 29th? This is the second year in the row that I have bid farewell to one of my OS on that blemished day. When I told my boys that I wanted them to be confident, independent people, I wasn’t thinking they were going to take me seriously! When I told them to go where the Lord wanted them, I still hadn’t finished praying specifically that it was just going to be up the street not far away as in West Point or Guatemala! Zheesh!

How come they listen to me about developing into their own person and following the Lord’s leading but these guys can’t seem to remember to pick their clothes up off the floor?? Kids these days…

The house is now empty. Nate has been gone for two weeks at Camp Buckner until 15 July (I wrote it the Army way ~ huah.) He is doing fun things like shooting stuff, sleeping on rocks and other assorted merriment. Ike, my not so little orange-haired, freckle-faced 12 year old left for Crossroads, a Christian summer camp complete with a tummy ache just prior to leaving. Miss me!

And then there’s my middle OS whose journey-bound to Guatemala. Wasn’t I the one who prodded this kid in the fall? “Aaron, you really should go. Aaron, this trip is made for you ~ you’re gonna love it and it will mess with you (in a good way.) Aaron, I’m tellin‘ ya, you really should pray about doing this…” He listened and now look at me. Waa.

This will be Aaron’s first trip overseas and it’s without us! What was I thinking? I truly believe this is where the Lord wants my boy and I am excited to hear about all that he experiences along the way. I know my OS will have a blast as he uses the talents the Lord has given him to minister to the people he encounters but I am admittedly human and already miss him.


We took the OS to the airport yesterday and I think if it had been possible he could have flapped his wings and flown to Miami all by himself. “I’m pumped!” was the frequently heard sentence for the last two days. I hung onto my OS’s neck and once outside my grasp, Aaron strode confidently to the security gates.


Just like his brother on R-Day, Aaron never turned around and ran back into my arms – my open arms that desperately wanted to hold him back but didn’t because it would have been way wrong.

Here is Aaron – June 29th, 2009

This is Nate – June 29th, 2008 ~ This is a picture I can barely look at, oh the anguish and the pride of that day!

Instead, just like his brother last June 29th on R-Day, Aaron moved forward to his destination and never looked back. I guess those are indications that just like his brother, Aaron was ready to leave. Not because he hates his parents or his life but because it is time. That is a good thing, right??? Somebody tell me “Cindy, this is a good thing!”

Three girls going on the same mission trip were flying out on the same flight. It was delayed by four hours and I distinctly recall talking to Aaron and he said he was having fun with his “friends.” They even all sat together on the plane! We spoke to him later that night and he was giggling and having trouble finishing our conversation. Why? He was having fun with his “buddies” already cracking jokes with the fellas on the trip.


The fourth of July is this week but I think June 29th is fast becoming our family’s Independence Day.