Raising sons with a spiritual heritage when you didn’t have any

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Posted on October 22, 2012

As I watched my orange hair, freckle face OS read Psalm 110 before the congregation today, I couldn’t help but wonder how a formerly agnostic, almost atheist, feminist, existentialist, abortion rights activist (yep) could find herself in a moment such as this.

This is one of my sons’ Bibles. I never owned one when I was his age. I’m amazed at the Lord’s kindness to give me children who seek God’s Word.

A few weeks ago, at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, sitting in Ernest Gray’s The Gospel of John class, the same thing happened. Another surreal experience as my middle guy Aaron casually pulled out his Bible and it was filled with notes in the margins. What am I doing here, I thought to myself.

A redeemed mama and a cherished olive shoot just before class. So proud of this olive shoot/sugar boy.

And then there’s Nate, the 2012 West Point guy who has Scripture engraved in his graduation ring. Sometimes when he calls and is struggling, without hesitation, I will just break out in prayer. Not because I’m an amazing mom (fail miserably) and not in a speaking tongues, snake handling way either for those who might have been totally creeped out imagining this. Just a real and honest exchange of a mother and son speaking to the Father and the Son. Kinda cool actually.

3 John 1:4
I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

You see I did not grow up in a Christian family. The only time I remember seeing the Bible was after my dad died. Oddly enough, we were looking for some verses to use at his funeral. We picked some fishing verses because my dad like fishing. Not because he was a fisher of men actually he was a fisher of fish(!), trout exactly, but I digress. From my recollection, the Bible was retrieved from underneath the bed. That was where it was kept for safekeeping as to not be scorned by my dad when he was on a spiritual tirade. His understanding of Christianity amounted to watching the Jim and Tammy Faye Baker show on tv or some other wild evangelist while waiting for the next episode of Soul Train. Not joking. To him, the Bible was a source of mockery and pity, something a strong man would never rely or depend upon. But I have to tell you, it’s still weird for me seeing my family so comfortable with God and Jesus. I’ve been a Christ follower for 15 years, a church attendee for over half my life but I remain awestruck to dwell in a home with men who earnestly live their faith.

For more than half my life, I thought the Bible was for sissies. You only pulled that thing out if times were REALLY bad and you needed a crutch. Maybe if you were dying or needed to slay someone verbally who called you out on sin but other than that, normal people didn’t read the Bible. It was only after I began dating the Hubs that I realized that real men can actually admit to believing every word contained in Scripture. The Lord had some work to do on the Hubs but he was a genuine Christian guy who actually OWNED a Bible and it even had his name on it! WOW!

While dating the Hubs, I sheepishly asked him what was up with the guy holding the John Three Colon 16 sign up during a football game. He’s always been a person I can trust with embarrassing spiritual questions since I do not have a rich Christian heritage. I never learned the Sunday School songs, the hymns or the Bible stories. At best, my religion was dogma and rules that did not match up with my sinful lifestyle.

Before my precious grandma died while she still lived by herself in Florida, I remember her proudly stating to me that her Bible had dust on it. She thought that was a good thing. It wasn’t. There was no way she was going to just randomly open it so she didn’t. This broke my heart as I pleaded with her to give God’s Word a read.

So seeing my children, sons, no less, actively pursuing a life of faith in Christ grabs a place in my heart like nothing else. Watching one of my bairn at ease with proclaiming God’s Word as truth is like a bowl of slightly warmed vanilla ice cream with caramel topping and multi-colored sprinkles served with a non-sticky spoon. I don’t deserve this. We fall short. I stumble. My olive shoots are not perfect. The Hubs snores. But yeah, today I saw my youngest reading Scripture with reverence and maturity.

This is my prayer and it’s for you, random reader or sweet friend too. May images like this emblazen hearts forevermore. May we never grow tired or bored with seeing our family seek God’s face. Lord, if it’s in your will, give us more of this. Glimpses of grace and faith. Rays of hope and redemption.

As Jesus did for me, I pray for the Lord to speak into your life. I know for some of you all of this might sound awkward and feel uncomfortable, yeah, I’ve been there. God changes things. He transforms people. He heals. He redeems. He blesses. How do I know? I’m living, undeserving proof.

My Soldier wearing his new cav hat! He loves El Salvador (the home of his bonita) and Jesus, they both hold the key to his heart.

I realize not everyone owns a Bible, it was a big decision for me. I remember being scared when I bought my first one! Here’s what I’m wondering – if you have a Bible, do you ever read it? Did you grow up in a family where the Bible was read? Can you relate to my story in any way?

Five Minute Friday – Look

9 Comments

Posted on October 19, 2012

LOVE this, join us! http://lisajobaker.com

It’s a “flash mob” of writers. Every Friday at 12:01am a few hundred (or is it closer to thousand?) women pop on over to Lisa-Jo’s page to find out what the word of the next 5 minutes will be.

No over thinking.

No editing.

No extreme planning and linking and photographing.

Just FIVE minutes of writing to see what comes out.

Ok, here’s my FMF…

Who knew Ohio could be so scary? Long regarded in my mind as a place of beauty and Americana, nothing prepared me for the treacherous journey the orange hair, freckle face olive shoot and I would have both coming and going to Chicago.

Fog hung in the air like mucus and there was no relief from the patches of blindness. I couldn’t pull over because I couldn’t see any exits and I was terrified to stop my car off the side to the shoulder because I was certain a truck would plow through my vehicle. Only a rail would have possibly shielded Ike and I from driving off the deep ravines but I’m not even certain there was a rail. It was only after telling a friend of my harrowing travels that I learned there was something like this on the stretch of highway. I’ve been driving since I was 16 years old and never been more frightened behind the wheel in my life. (This experience was only matched by the drive back from Moody Bible Institute and I’m not prepared to write about it yet).

My nerves were frazzled and we stopped after the fog had cleared. Hungry and needing a potty break, Ike and I paused at a restaurant at a nearby exit. I had forgotten that we had entered Amish country but judging from the simply clad little boys in the front of the restaurant and the young lady working behind the counter, I soon realized seeing me with my pink highlights surely gave them reason to pray.

Praising God for THIS rainbow in the sky!

As we returned to our car, it was my sweet Ike who pointed in the sky…”Look, Mama! A rainbow!” Sure enough off in the distance that beautiful reassuring arch (not McDonalds!) blazed through the powder blue sky.

I had been seeing gray patches of nothingness that only held fear and pending death. My son had been in the car with me and I was gripped with anxiety. It was when I paused, physically and emotionally, that the Lord provided a symbol of His presence. God knew at just the right time when I needed to see a sign of His glory.

Thoughts from a former feminist about binders

4 Comments

Posted on October 18, 2012

Did you freak out when Mitt Romney said that horrible comment during this week’s presidential debate? You know, the one where he said he sought qualified women to work in his previous administration? As you watched the debate from the comfort of your family room, didn’t you feel as if every advancement made for women was suddenly, irretrievably erased???

Me either.

It didn’t bother me when I watched it live on Tuesday. Now, days later, I’ve heard about it on several radio stations (both conservative and liberal) and still, the “binder” comment does nothing to strike my ire in any way, shape or form.

But there was a time when that statement from WMR would have gotten my undies in a major wad.

Back in the 80’s, I took a broadcast journalism class in college. We had to regularly find and create news stories for our own mock 30 minute news segment. I had foam shoulder pads and plenty of sass to be sure, but I lacked both transportation and creativity to make a quality news package.

Then one day in Waukesha, Wisconsin, there was a bad snow storm. Correction, MANY days there were snow storms but this one happened to land on a day when I needed to do my broadcast journalism assignment. I contacted the local transportation folks on the phone because I heard that they were looking for people to shovel the snow.

As I spoke to the city worker and interviewed this person, I jotted down the statements to assure journalistic integrity. It was a fairly boring story, big whup, snow in the Midwest. But then she said something that set me on FIRE and I knew I was onto a REALLY big story.

The woman I interviewed said, (are you ready for this? I do hope you’re sitting), she said, that any men who were interested in shoveling snow should get in touch with the city to help with the efforts.

That’s when I knew I had uncovered a MAJOR, sexist, misogynistic, systematic, subversive and pejorative scandal! The woman had said, “MEN!” What was she really trying to say? Was this woman actually going to turn away people to shovel snow simply based on their lady parts? My feminist heart skipped a beat. This was the story I had been looking for!

But I had a problem. Yes I needed to do my homework but no matter how I tried to puff up the story, a sense of perspective came over me. I recalled my own feelings about shoveling snow. I could see myself in my mind’s eye back in Illinois. I have loathed shoveling snow from the moment my father screamed at me on the wintery driveway in our home in suburban Chicago. Numerous times. Scooping frozen white junk off the driveway as a teenager was an artic anathema. As I began to formulate my story, the logical part of me melted the irrational. The big news story never existed. No Woodward and Bernstein moment ever existed here.

A rare moment, many years later, of my sister and I enjoying time in the snow! Thankfully in North Carolina, it doesn’t last long and I don’t shovel it!

Essentially that’s how I feel about this whole “binder of women” comment. It’s a non-story, something convoluted in an effort to create controversy. I tried a similar technique for my college course and thankfully had a moment of clarity. I don’t get it and in my opinion, people are really stretching Romney’s words to suit their own agenda. It’s like saying a snowflake is a blizzard. We can find other things to complain about, super duper huge things which I choose not to discuss here but as far as this is concerned, the “binder” comment, wow, seriously y’all it was not offensive in any way unless you are trying to fabricate a fake scandal to diminish an obvious one. I’m sorry, get a grip. Nothing here folks, just keep moving on.

Christmas ornaments for military moms – updated as of 12/16

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Posted on October 17, 2012

A group of West Point moms decided to do an ornament exchange this Christmas season. For a few months now, a special West Point moms facebook page has featured photos of ornaments received. Pangs of envy have pulsed through me as I observe the thought-fulness and creativity shared among friends. Mostly though, seeing pictures of the new foofaraw for the holidays is a blessing. When I consider that many of these moms haven’t met each other in person, I’m deeply moved. These women simply share an unbreakable bond of being a military mom, specifically of the West Point/Army variety.

My intention is to update this post regularly and include as many of the ornament ideas as possible. Feel free to share this with your family and friends as a subtle hint that YOU want some new pretties for your tree. If you are a military parent, YOU deserve it! WE gotta represent!

I’m very fond of this one featured above, I just would need to change the last name so it’s my 2LT.

If you are a military mom, here’s an example of what one West Point mom did for another.

A WP mom created a collage of the ornaments she received from her Secret Elf.

Then there’s this one a West Point mom ordered. The Guardian Angel of the Military is quite lovely!

Check out this one! Personalized Christmas Ornaments - American Flag Star - 11089

Another awesome one from Cafe Press, my cadet has worn that hat! Brings back a lot of memories…

This weekend, a group of West Point moms received a personalized ornament created by Megan at Pages. Here is the site. She has all kind of custom ones, but knows which ones made for the West Point moms. She also has custom military event paper that she will customize further for your Cadet and Year.

An adorable glass cadet ornament would look so pretty sparkling next to the lights on my tree. Here’s the link. (Update, crud, it’s sold out but you DIY folks might be able to replicate).

Although this one is made in Taiwan, it’s still lovely. Seriously, it won’t be the only non-US made ornament on your tree. For reals. Anyway, it’s embroidered which is different! Here’s the info.

Continuing on the glass ornament theme, you might like these especially because of the unique way they are designed. The main image is on the INSIDE! The image is put on a clear backing which is almost invisible at first glance. The image is then placed inside the ornament and the outside is decorated with polka dots or other images.This gives the ornament a multi-dimensional look that really pops! The finishing touch is the addition of multi layers of korker ribbon to coordinate with your ornament choices.Click here for the talented lady’s website on etsy.

Floating American Flag Ornament - Personalized - Small

I thought Longaberger only made pretty baskets, I was wrong. I apologize! Check this out and note the special offer. Save $10! Veteran’s Day is Sunday, November 11th and these beautiful handcrafted ornaments are the perfect gift to honor our service men and women and you’ll receive them in time for Veteran’s Day! A perfect holiday gift at a perfect price — only $20 each! Available in Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard. Select a branch of service in the drop down menu to see each Ornament. A portion of the proceeds from each American Valor Ornament sold will go to the Longaberger Military Cares Program. You’ll also have the opportunity to make an additional donation to Military Cares at checkout. Longaberger’s Military Cares program combines the efforts of employees, sales field and customers to support America’s military troops and their families through numerous charitable programs and contributions. Click here for the deets.
Offer good from 12 Noon EDT through 11:50 p.m. EDT (9 a.m. – 8:59 p.m. PDT) Wednesday, October 17, 2012. Price valid with online order only. Price does not include tax or shipping and handling.

Another WP mom didn’t wait for a Christmas tree to find a place for this ornament. How many of us have proudly displayed something like this in our homes year-round. Awaiting order info from a Secret Elf.

And when West Point moms get to-gether, it’s going to be a good time! There is an end-less supply of pride (the good kind) and stories!

We usually have our tiaras dis-cretely hidden but every now and then we gotta flash the bling. Such a fun bunch of ladies!

Check out this site for ordering info for this ornament because it’s pretty wonderful! American Hero ornaments deserve a significant place on our trees.

Once a West Point mom, always a WP mom. I have great admiration for the women standing alongside their cadets and Soldiers. There is an immensely talented WP mom who makes her own miniature watercolor paintings as ornaments. The ornaments are $18 each which includes S&H; contact at jacruick@yahoo.com to order!

A little watercolor painting as an ornament, what a treasure!

Elegant and lovely!

As the West Point ornament exchange 2012 winds down, I still learned of some great ideas.

Beautiful colors and detail

This cross ornament can be found here.

My Soldier jumped out of airplane this week, maybe I need one of these?

If you have a military person in aviation, a West Point mom dis-covered this perfect gift for the tree! Click here for the link. Mine will be jumping out of helicopter soon so this might get on my shopping list.

And then there’s this one. I’m super excited to give this to my favorite Soldier and Scrabble buddy. This is a common Army exclamation. The creator of these ornaments appreciates the military and in an upcoming post I’m going to offer a give-away thanks to her generosity! You can find Lilly on facebook or on her etsy site. She can do any up to 9 letter word, btw.

If you are an Army person, you know what Hooah means! I can’t explain it, it’s a word and a feeling!

This is my ornament positioned right by a picture of the Hubs and I on our honeymoon in Spain.

Please send me your pictures and links and I’ll post them here. Go Army!

Five Minute Friday – Race

10 Comments

Posted on October 12, 2012

The view from our 10th story apartment

While watching the Chicago marathon from the 10th story of Jenkins Hall, I was inspired.

One of my favorite signs!

But when I went downstairs and came face to face with the thousands of runners, I was overwhelmed. Tears welling up in my eyes and throat, I know I’m an emotional person but it surprised me the wave of feelings that waft over me.

I just imagined being one of those runners and having legions of people cheering me on. Honestly I need that kind of encouragement in my daily walk of mortal life let alone a 27 mile run which will never happen this side of heaven. Hearing someone calling my name, seeing a sign with MY name on it, or a treasured friend or family member, I’ve never done a marathon but seeing the Chicago marathon up close and personal tugged my spirit. We all need a pep squad to help us run physically, emotionally, spiritually. When we’re downtrodden, discouraged, beaten up, don’t we all desperately want someone to say, “Hey, you matter! Go, you! You can doey it!”

It was so awesome how the announcers just randomly picked out names they spotted on the runners’ jerseys and encouraged them! Loved the Moody Mile!

On this blustery fall morning, as we were getting ready to meet Aaron and the other two OS going to Aaron’s new church in downtown Chicago, I witnessed these people, every hue, body type and outfit race past us. I heard praise music filling the streets, everyone was of one accord motivating the runners to keep going. Tears.

The most awesome writing gig on Fridays! Where a beautiful crowd spends five minutes all writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here. Join us!

What got me the most emotional was the encouragement. As the runners jogged by the Moody Mile, they were greeted with cheers, posters and horns. It felt like a New Year’s Eve celebration. The announcer randomly called out names of some of the runners, I saw signs in many languages, what must this have been like to among the crowd? I felt blessed, moved and stirred. Lord, help me run THIS race of life…

Here’s a snippet of the event…

An American mom wonders about voting

22 Comments

Posted on September 24, 2012

I have some sincere questions about voting. To me, voting is a privilege and a personal responsibility but I’m really struggling about something. Maybe you can help.

“Voting is a big decision,” Ike contemplates the significance of his choice.

Cue reverse time travel machine…Twelve years ago, I took my three OS with me to vote. Our county had a kids’ voting program which I loved. It was truly adorable to see each of them check off the candidates they wanted to be in public office. Of course at the time, I influenced their decisions. They wanted my opinion which I offered but I also reminded them that it was THEIR vote ultimately. They could check any boxes they liked but just one per political office. Nate, Aaron and Ike were 12, 6 and 4 respectively and it was a big deal. We celebrated the right we ALL had to vote.

Now I have two OS of voting age. As many of you know I have a 2012 West Point graduate who is an officer in the Army. He’s also a comparative politics major. For Nate, politics is the intellectual equivalent of a bowl of slightly melted vanilla ice cream with warmed caramel sauce and sprinkles on top or a massaged kale salad depending on how you roll. I roll both ways sometimes during the same day.

And it will be Aaron’s first time voting as an adult! Not that he is especially excited about either of the presidential candidates but we have long taught our OS that they must vote. It matters. I’ve been on both sides of the political aisle. The Hubs and I have cancelled each other’s votes in the past. (That doesn’t happen anymore, we are both in agreement on most political issues). I wear the “I Voted” sticker all day with pride and have even transferred the sticker to another shirt if I spilled something on the previous shirt just so everyone would know that I had declared my preferences. Dare I say, I have choked back a few tears as I have left polling places, I’m not exaggerating. My grandma worked at the polls for years and instilled in us the importance of voting. She was quite proud of herself and I loved that about her.

I’m just so confused about why we don’t have to show an ID when doing this. The first time I went to vote here in my hometown, I was ready to produce my ID. It took me aback when they told me there was no need. How could that be? Couldn’t someone pretend to be me and just show up and take my “voice” away? In this digital age, it seems easier than ever. If you have to show an ID to board a plane, pick up a prescription, heck, get a Sam’s Club card, why shouldn’t people wishing to vote be required to show a picture ID?

“One day I’m going to West Point and be a comparative politics major and have huge muscles!”

I understand that a homeless person might not be able to vote if s/he didn’t have an ID. That is unfortunate. I want people who have polar opposite opinions to be able to put their voice in the mix. Still though, a homeless person would have to have some kind of identification if s/he needed social services, right? What am I missing? I just don’t get it.

Everyone should be able to vote but it’s baffling how producing a reliable form of ID prohibits a person from doing so. Honestly I see it as the opposite. Using a form of identification allows MY voice to be MINE. Your voice to be yours.

Respectful thoughts most welcome…

Scrubbing Bubbles and the middle school maid

2 Comments

Posted on September 19, 2012

To make money for clothing and important things like makeup and Bonne Bell flavored lipgloss, I babysat and cleaned houses in middle school.

Stay away from me, Mr. Scrubbing Bubbles!

Scrubbing Bubbles was a new product and the commercials with cartooned, mustachioed scrubbing bubbles made me chuckle. Do you remember the birth of Scrubbing Bubbles or is that before your time?

Well one day, I was cleaning a shower stall. The shower door was closed and I began to coat the tile with a thick layer of Scrubbing Bubbles. As if I were attacking a blaze and holding a fire extinguisher, I doused that sucker. Every tile square received a foamy blast. I wanted to unlock all the cleaning power contained in the Scrubbing Bubbles. As an adolescent fashionista, I needed to keep my job; customer satisfaction, don’t you know.

In the shower stall with the Scrubbing Bubbles can, I prepared to remove all the goo and grime off the tile but then I began having trouble breathing. I didn’t collapse but I began to choke. Since I was a boy crazy, junior high girl, I doubt I had the wits to know to open the door. If Michael Jackson, Keith Partridge or Bobby Sherman would have come to rescue me that would have been a different story but that didn’t happen. I had an epiphany though, something in those Scrubbing Bubbles was rockin’ my world/body. With the door closed, I surely inhaled a fury of aerosol and chemicals.

Screen shot of Scrubbing Bubbles info on the Environmental Working Group

The more I read about chemicals and toxins in cleaning products, the more I wonder exactly what I breathed in that afternoon. When I use soap nuts, I don’t have anything to worry about. I use Extreme 18X (which is a super concentrated version of soap nuts that goes a long way) or make some soap nut “tea” and I don’t need rubber gloves. I’m never concerned about adaquate ventilation either. Did you know that according to the Environmental Working Group, many of the Scrubbing Bubbles products are rated D or F? In my extended family, we have asthma, COPD, migraines and allergies – my loved ones don’t need to be breathing toxins any more than I did as a middle school “maid.”

Obviously I don’t have the original bottle of Scrubbing Bubbles. But this is what the label says now CAUTION: EYE IRRITANT. READ BACK PANEL CAREFULLY. / CAUTION: EYE IRRITANT. Contains lactic acid, solvents and surfactants. Avoid contact with eyes, skin and clothing. Wash thoroughly after handling. May cause respiratory irritation if used with inadequate ventilation. FIRST AID: EYES AND SKIN: Immediately rinse eyes and skin with plenty of water. If irritation persists, seek medical advice. INHALATION: If breathing is affected, get fresh air. CHEMICAL HAZARD: Never use or mix with bleach-containing products or other household cleaners as hazardous fumes may be released. KEEP OUR OF REACH OF CHILDREN AND PETS.

“One day, gf, you’re gonna write about that weird time when Scrubbing Bubbles nearly jacked you up.”

Funny, isn’t it, the weird memories our minds retain? For me it was this strange encounter with a cleaning product. There are greener, safer alternatives for cleaning our bodies, homes and clothes. Soap nuts work. They are 100% organic, biodegradable and effective. Your family deserves someone to be an advocate and a savvy consumer and that’s probably you. Take a look at the products under your sink, read the labels. Look beyond what the brand name company websites tell you about the chemicals they are using. Let me know if you have any questions or thoughts. I welcome them, this is a journey. Here are two other independent reviews of soap nuts also. Check out spoonfulatatime and naturallifemom. I highly recommend these websites for their wealth of information in general.

Ponderings from a three year old about 9/11

11 Comments

Posted on September 11, 2012

At dinner last night (Sept. 10th), I read a story to my orange hair, freckle face almost 16-year-old OS. It was about how Ike processed 9/11 as a toddler. I was surprised back then that the horrors of that day had impacted him so intensely. I’m glad I have been writing for so long because I might have forgotten these moments. First published in the July 2002 issue of P31, a ministry of Proverbs 31 Ministries, I share this again with you on this very significant day.

A sweet little boy with very real questions

In the 12 years I have been a mother, I have learned parenting is not easy. I’ve learned that kids often like to discuss difficult subjects out in public or when I’m driving a car. I’ve learned that little minds think about tough subjects. This has become clearer to me since the events of the last year have given my youngest son, Isaac, much to ponder.

It all began on a seemingly innocent trip to Wal-Mart. As we approached the entrance someone caught Isaac’s attention. A dark-skinned man exited the store and walked near us when Isaac asked, “Is that Osama bin Laden?” So many times my children have surprised me with their spontaneous questions. Hoping that this man hadn’t heard the question, I varied between wanting to burst into laughter and erupt into tears. Isaac’s question jolted me like an electric shock.

Part of me wanted to quip, “Um, Isaac, I don’t think he shops at our local Wal-Mart and uh, Isaac, if he does, forget the crackers, let’s get out of here!” But instead I assured him that the mild man in slacks was not Osama bin Laden.

But he wasn’t finished. About a week later I was putting on makeup and Isaac entered the bathroom. Without any warning or prompting, Isaac wanted to know what we would have done if we had been in “that” building. He wondered whether we would have been hurt. He recalled seeing an image of a woman with a bloody bandage on her head running from the big building. I gently reassured him that we would have been ok.

The grocery store was the most recent location for Isaac’s curious mind to activate. But before we even approached the door, out in the parking lot, Isaac asked me the most intense question I think anyone has ever asked me. “Does Osama bin Laden believe in God?” he inquired.

So how does a mother answer that question?

Just so you know, we don’t have the television on all day and I can’t remember the last time I talked about the war before bedtime. He’s your typical boy who likes horses and dinosaurs. He plays soccer and is building a fort in the backyard with his middle brother. We have “snuggle parties” in the middle of the night when he crawls into our bed. The best response that I could come up with in the milliseconds available was that Osama bin Laden might think he believed in God but he didn’t know Jesus. Isaac is a little young for a Christian apologetics class and I’m unsuited to be training him in the differences between Islam and Christianity. I felt fairly confident that Osama bin Laden had probably heard of Jesus but that he did not know Him personally.

Three sugar boys a long, long time ago

With each one of Isaac’s questions I feel so privileged to be his mother. If I weren’t there, who would hear the stirrings of his heart? If I were too busy or disinterested, what would Isaac do with the adult-sized musings occurring in his pre-K brain? Whose hand would he have been holding when he thought he saw one of the world’s most evil men? If I weren’t available for his questions, who would listen? What kind of answers would he receive?

With each question pouring from his soul, Isaac gives me the rock-solid response. One of the most important jobs I will ever have is raising my kids. The biggest assignment I’ll ever be given is to teach and show my sons the love of Christ and to instruct them in righteousness. In Proverbs 7:1-4 we are reminded to keep God’s words with us at all times.

We are urged to impress God’s commandments upon our children in Deuteronomy 6:7. Before our feet even hit the floor, our Heavenly Father desires to be on our minds and in our hearts. There are no provisions in the Bible as to when we get a break. When my orange-haired boy with soft cherry lips asks me about evil I must be ready to discuss the greatness of God. I need to look for open windows into his soul. God doesn’t mention the car or mall or store as being places where I can slack off as a mom.

I’ve got to show Isaac in my actions and words how to seek the face
of Almighty God, Creator and Sustainer in times of trouble
and tumult. To counter the attacks on my son’s spirit,
I’m required to instill in him the security of believing in
Jesus, the just and awesome One who triumphed over sin and death.

Deuteronomy 6:6-9 These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates.

I wish my son’s innocence had not been interrupted by the events of September 11th. The rubble that has cluttered my precious boy’s mind needs to be replaced with peace and beauty. The provocative questions asked by my son make my resolve to be a good mother even stronger. Crackers and cold cuts, makeup and mealtime, sunrise and sunset, Lord, please keep me ready.

Officers’ Christian Fellowship at West Point info

My new blogging home

2 Comments

Posted on July 11, 2012

Relocating a blog is like buying a house or having a baby. These things take time and never go as smoothly as expected. For a while now I have considered revamping my blog. The desire to do so reminds me of when I announced to the Hubs I wanted a baby and the day we picked our first house. I fondly remember wanting both things (independent of each other!) and petulantly only anticipating the tender moments when I would be nestled in my immaculate house and later gloating over my perfect child. Then both arrived in short order of each other and I soon discovered that a house gets dirty and a baby can drive a mama nuts. Oh yes, having a blog is similar. I have now switched my blog over to Word Press and it is a learning process. Please bear with me as I make adjustments in my blog’s appearance and construction. Thanks for stopping by, I look forward to hearing from you, I really do!

So today’s the day! I’ve waited weeks to get the proceeding blog post published and like a baby, with a hearty grunt and a push, I believe it is finally time to “give birth.”

My Awesome Olive Shoots

chronicling a contented life as the mama of three sons

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