The girl with the funky arms

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Karen and her hubs

Karen is packed and ready to go to Nepal today.

Tabitha, an “ambassador” for the Guinea Pig Girl doll collection, is with her which is super exciting.

But Tabs (as her friends like to call her), almost didn’t go and that’s because she has funky arms.

I was piecing Tabitha together and fishing her legs and arms out of the side of her fabric frame

When suddenly I see her funky arms

“CRUD!” I think to myself.

Tess the original Guinea Pig Girl doll and Tabitha spend cherished time together before Tabs goes off to live in Nepal.

She looks double-jointed

Seriously

They are so funky Tabitha could be at a state fair in one of those sideshows

or a performer in Cirque du Soleil

“Wow. Tabitha’s got funky arms,” I mutter to myself.

Sitting there on my couch, fairly disgusted at my lack of sewing prowess, crestfallen.

How can I give her to Karen?

But then I heard God’s whisper as He reminds me of a truth. Karen was just a regular wife and mom and now she’s also an anti-human trafficking agent. Through Tiny Hands International, (please, please click here to read about this incredible organization), my friend will encounter many broken people. Tabitha will fit right in.

And then the Lord assured me, I’m a broken girl too. So is Karen. But we are redeemed, precious in His sight. Blameless. Holy. Pure even. In God’s eyes we are saints in fact which is quite surprising considering I’m quite familiar with my flaws. At times they are more obvious than Tabitha’s two funky fabric arms. So it’s all good.

“Let her go,” God said.

But the Lord wasn’t done with me so I espy Tabitha again.

Karen kindly offers Tabitha a few nights in her house to help transition to life in Nepal. Since they will be traveling together, it might be nice to get to know one another. Good thinking, Karen!

“Daughter, look at her funky arms and remember me.”

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.

Psalm 103:11-13

Now I see this Guinea Pig Girl doll differently. Tabitha’s arms are open wide, really wide for a reason. She and Karen must to go to Nepal. Tabitha’s funky arms might bless a tiny hand. Their plane leaves in just a few hours.

Please pray for those I care about specifically Karen and JD as they are traveling to places far away this week. May their arms and hearts be stretched wide open to offer love and compassion. Let all who encounter these folks find ultimate freedom and redemption only Christ can give.

Thank you, Heavenly Father for teaching me something again today through sewing. I’m no longer embarrassed by Tabitha’s funky arms.

Ambien – setback, stepback, not giving up

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Wednesday around 3am, I felt like a puny junior high girl in PE class…

Good times posing in the Kmart photo booth

Circa 1974ish

My opponent this time wasn’t the rope that was hooked to the gym ceiling that I never could climb at Jefferson Junior HIgh

And it wasn’t the chin-up bar from which I couldn’t pull myself to save my life or my dignity

Wednesday morning, I wasn’t the last one picked for the volleyball match or the girl who lost the softball game

in my red PE  shorts, red and white thin-striped polyester PE shirt with red trim, a lithe and flat female frame devoid of all muscle tone either

No, in the wee hours of Wednesday, I was in bed, in my pajamas, a grown woman!

but I just as felt defeated that night (or should I say morning) sleep mask, pillows, fan going full blast

Tired

because I took the stupid Ambien

it was 3am and I told the Lord I was going to do it

There have been times when I have told Jesus I was going to do something and I knew He wasn’t going to like it

I bet you have too

but I was so tired

and having been up with my orange hair, freckle face OS for yet another night

feeling helpless about how to care for him and desperate for some rest

I swallowed that tiny pill and fell asleep with my sick boy nearby

I continue to trust in the Lord

Middle school Cindy

Blocking out the Enemy’s voices that remind me of my failings

My Holy One is teaching me things

I may falter and get distracted

Day and night

Ambien and life

But there is grace

My Heavenly Father presides over me

And through Him, I can do all things

Even sleep

The Lord loved that little wimpy middle school Cindy way back then and is compassionate towards me now. I’m on his team, He picked me many years ago and doesn’t laugh at my shortcomings but gives me the courage to press on

And so I will try again and claim this promise

Isaiah 40:31 (KJV)

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Thanks for listening….I welcome your thoughts and prayers

The bunny in the window

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last pic of the bunny and me

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

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

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

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

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

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

And this is what I saw an hour later

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

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

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

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

Yet I couldn’t do it.

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

Call it love because I truly love the woman.

Call it Jesus because He alone gave me strength.

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

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

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

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

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

Someone had taken him.

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

Why did someone steal my joy?

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

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

Where did he go?

Did someone get him for me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Bracelets of hope in an El Salvadoran prison

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The plans had been for us to speak at a university while in San Salvador. We had made a nice slide presentation about purity and were looking forward to the opportunity to share our message with college students.

But as I should have learned by now, things don’t always go according to plans and we learned Thursday night that we wouldn’t be speaking there after all. I was a little disappointed but assumed that God had other plans for us. We were given the choice between staying at home while the rest of the team did the medical clinic at the girls’ prison or joining them and finding something to do. That was an easy choice.  We decided to go back to prison.

I can honestly say I was looking forward to going back to prison. Wow, that is a strange sentence I never expected to write!

Beth Anne and I scrambled Thursday night brainstorming about what we could do with the girls in prison. We had enjoyed such a precious time with them the day before, what else we do with these girls given the restrictions and the limited time and resources we had available? The Lord, always faithful, gave me an idea, something I had seen American girls do and with a quick google search, our plans were underway.

At the prison, while everyone else on our team organized the medical aspect of our visit, BA and I got permission to meet with another group of girls, those serving much longer sentences than the ones we had seen the day before.

As we gathered around a table, with prison guards patrolling the grounds right outside the gated windows and a steady breeze wafting through the open air walls, we were blessed to share our message with them.

I even saw a few guards peeking in to hear our presentation. These girls were a little tougher and wilder than the last batch but seemed genuinely interested in hearing about “pureza” (purity) and having a fresh start through Christ.

After we were finished we asked the girls, “Do you want to do a little project?” “Si!” they all shouted.

At first I was going to just tell the girls that we were going to make some little bracelets but then I got an inspiration and with a quick nudge to BA, I said, “Would you like to make bracelets of esperanza?”

Esperanza means hope and I think it’s such a beautiful word, in Spanish. Even more excitedly the girls said, “Si!” I was encouraged already!

So this is what we did.

First we dipped little strips of cotton material in water. Once wet, we placed the strips on the table and began rolling the strips diagonally.

It was great how the Lord supplied all our needs because in addition to having plenty of fabric around the house the night before, we also found a bunch of beads and brought them along with us to the prison.

After the girls had rolled their fabric all up, they began adding beads to their bracelets of hope. I told these El Salvadorian girls that I saw a lot of American girls wearing these in the States.

They intently worked on their bracelets and even Font sizecame up with a few cool variations. I loved seeing their individuality expressed in their bracelets and they even made bracelets of hope for their friends and some family. They worked nicely together and were very kind and respectful to us. Even the toughest and hardest of people still deserve a fresh start.

When we finished, we asked if we could take their pictures. We were forbidden to take pictures of the girls’ faces but this was not a problem, we simply took pictures of their hands.

If you look at this picture below, you will see an old, white hand with a thin, silver wedding band on one finger.

It’s the hand without a watch and um, that hand belongs to me ;).

The reason I placed my hands there is one of the girls was embarrassed about her hands. I’m not sure what had happened to them but she had dark blue markings or burnings on her knuckles. It would have scared me in the real world!

I didn’t want her excluded from the picture and so desperately wanted a picture with her, I offered her a solution. I put my hands over hers so no one would see them. All of our hands are over a piece of paper where I wrote:

Esperanza = Hope

It was one of many bittersweet moments I experienced in the prison. Check out the lemon in the picture. Apparently the girls like to eat lemons!

One by one, the girls placed the bracelets of esperanza on each other.

They made them for all the members of our team.

I have many new pieces of jewelry at home that I rarely wear but since returning home from El Salvador, with a few minor exceptions, I haven’t taken my bracelet of esperanza off my wrist.

A meager bracelet made only of a small swatch of fabric and a few cheap plastic beads is among my most treasured possessions.

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…