Five minute Friday – song

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This boy when he sings, makes my heart smile.

This boy when he sings, makes my heart smile.

I know my family has found the sweet spot in the day when my orange-hair, freckle face 16-year-old starts to sing.

You will not hear him on an album. His ministry-minded middle is in the Moody Men’s Choir and he sings with wild abandon. He sings almost too much. I love it, don’t get me wrong but there’s a sharp contract between the two.

Isaac, though, most of his songs are silly and they are less frequent. These songs can be of the suburban white-boy rap quality busting bad rhymes about important things like how much he hates swiss chard

or cleaning the marble kitchen island

You know, deeply emotional things…NOT

Quite a few are about me being his mom.

Oh these make me giggle

But more importantly they tell me something very important.

He feels safe.

When I sing, it means I am allowing you to hear my voice. You have been permitted to hear my non-musical melodies. I have deemed you safe. When I am off-pitch or goof up a word, if you are hearing my song, you have been given a gift not necessarily in the form of sound but in the form of security.

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it! Click here for deets!

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it! Click here for deets!

When people sing in this family, it brings more than music to my ears. It brings healing.

Question: When someone in your family sings, what does that mean to your heart?

Colonel Kail is my friend, part two

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Eric and his family.

Eric and his family.

Lord willing, Colonel Kail will have a retirement ceremony on 31 May at West Point, then the packers will come three days later.

With the diagnosis of stage 4 transitional cell carcinoma, life began to drastically change for the Kail’s. The one thing that hasn’t wavered but remained steadfast is Eric’s optimism and faith.

Eric is an awesome dad and husband. He’s a Colonel in the United States Army and has also served for over 25 years as an Army Field Artillery Officer in both conventional and special operations units. He has several combat deployments, including Operations Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Enduring Freedom, and Iraqi Freedom. Eric also has a PhD in organizational psychology. His latest assignment was as the course director for military leadership at West Point.

Impressed? You should be!

Here’s where you come in. Would you be so kind as to pray for this man? Eric has a few medical procedures to complete prior to heading for Texas. A few new spots on the spine and sacrum causes weakness in his right leg and severe pain and stiffness in both legs.

Though he moves around like a 90-year-old man, Eric retains his wit and wisdom.

In return for your prayers, with Eric’s permission, I am sharing a recent experience he had at the airport.

Here’s the remarkable thing that happened to him at the airport.

I’m very prone to take matters into my own hands and to gut things out, get the mission done without complaining. I was beginning to feel like my ability to do certain things was dropping off and a book I was reading allowed me to spend time covering God’s instructions to Elijah.

Specifically, delivering bad news to Ahab then going to live in a cave during a drought.

God told Elijah that he would have birds bring him food; not the kind of delivery we think about for food these days. Now, I’m not by any means comparing myself to Elijah, but the lesson was clear.

God will provide every internal and external resource needed to do what He calls us to do.

Well, the day after I read this story I met a complete stranger in a crowded airport lounge.

He was an Indian man who is a missionary living in the U.S. and still tied to missions work in India aimed at reaching their remote tribal populations.

In fact, his son had died in his 20s while working as a missionary in a remote tribal village.

We began discussing what we did and he asked about what God has called me to do through my battle with cancer.

I shared with him that unless my health took a positive swing, that I may have to curtail my speaking engagements and such.

Then he asked me if I knew much about Elijah.

I laughed and shared with him about what I had read the day before.

As my son would say, "Colonel Kail is the man!"

As my son would say, “Colonel Kail is the man!”

So, we stopped what we were doing and he prayed for me right there in the middle of a very crowded airport lounge.

He prayed specifically that God would make clear his provisions for me and my family as we set out to do His work.

No way it was an accident that this man and I spent an hour together in a crowded public spot.

It gets better.

The next day, my devotional was from 1 Kings, specifically Elijah’s meeting the widow who had just enough flour and oil to make one last meal for her and her son before they died.

Elijah instructed her to make some bread for him too, and that God would provide for her until the drought was over. She did and her flour and oil never ran out.

However, her son did die while Elijah was staying as guest in her home. She asked if this was a curse from God. Elijah took the boy up to his bed, laid on top of him, and prayed three times for God to restore the boy’s spirit to his body. God did just that.

So, I get the message pretty clearly.

Our natural default is to look for our own strength and resources to do even what God has called us to do, when He will supply all we need.

This is hard to do when coordinating things like a final move, buying a home, arranging travel, conducting a retirement ceremony, and oh yes, battling cancer.

Just like meeting Eric and Gigi at Sunday School many years ago in Apex, North Carolina, God arranged for Eric and this man to bond in a crowded airport lounge. What were the chances of that? I love seeing God move in his people.

Let’s move spiritual mountains for Colonel Kail. Share this with others too.

Eric and Gigi

Eric and Gigi

Please pray specifically for the following:

– That scheduling for moving would fall into place
– That the nerve pain and limited mobility would not get any worse between now and beginning treatment
– That the MRI of his brain would show success of the procedure and no other tumors
– That there wouldn’t be any flare ups while in transit from NY to TX
– That he can physically able to do his retirement ceremony on 31 May

In addition, he has promised to commission FIVE cadets at West Point next weekend. He swore our son in last year and it was such a meaningful honor.

Let us pray without ceasing for this man who so freely gives to others. Bless you, Colonel Kail!

Here is the background story if you missed it.

Doing laundry – Ranger School style

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photo copy 7With a bit of food in their tummies and new gear piled in the back of our SUV, reality began to set in.

Something smelled.

The guys had a slightly ripe odor slightly akin to a good camembert

But it was three heavy duffel bags which held the real aroma.

I found this in my son's duffel bag.

I found this in my son’s duffel bag.

The longer we were in the car, which now also included a trip to Wal-Mart, the greater stress weighed on me as a mother who had a giant task ahead of her.

We had been warned that the laundry stunk but oh my, as soon as I unzipped the first duffel bag, a tsunami of smell filled my nostrils.

Foolishly we had chosen to wash the clothes in the hotel laundry room. I do not recommend this as it is asking too much of a standard model washing machine. Alas, with no time to spare, I began pulling damp ACU items out of the bag chucking them onto the floor. Body odors, dirt, grime, silt stuck into every fiber.

In my 23 years of motherhood, nothing really had prepared me for this task.

No diaper,

no soccer game,

no previous Army training exercises involving stinky summer uniforms was adequate preparation.  Every type of laundry detergent I had available was summoned forth. With reckless abandon, I threw t-shirts, pants, filthy socks into the mouth of the machines. Time was of the essence and the clock pulled minutes away from our day.

photo copy 2Occasionally I opened the lid as if to apologize to the machine for the assault. Dirt, sand, duct tape began to cover the laundry room floor.

I even found a few rocks tucked into my boy’s pockets which made me wistful of those bygone years.

The Hubs came into the laundry room and we both stood amidst the sea of Army colors.

Truly I was making a mess and the thought of unzippering the next duffel bag was daunting.

photo

I chuckle seeing this picture and now realizing it is blurry. I felt so frantic trying to wash two filthy duffel bags full of stinky Soldier clothes.

The Hubs scrambled between two locations checking on our other Ranger School charge to make sure he was ok.

C. was holding his own quite well so the Hubs ran to the front desk, then back to the store, anywhere to load me up with more quarters. Tension was high…very high.

Neither one of us wanted to let our guys down yet it seemed hopeless that we could get all the clothes clean by the mandatory 6pm arrival.

And now let’s just talk for a moment about clean.

It’s all relative. There was not sufficient time for the clothes to be mama-clean. My standards were lowered, I had to be realistic.

No offense but the place reeked. When an employee happened by the laundry room, I flagged him for help. Open the windows! This didn’t provide much relief but it seemed the courteous thing to do for the other hotel guests. At times I was afraid to plunge my hand into the dark bag for another odoriferous bundle. Damp black trash bags knotted at the top forewarned me that I was approaching hazardous material. The deeper in the bag I got, the greater the risk. Seriously gross. Ridiculously smelly. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat! Do I want to? I’d rather make him a green smoothie.

The treasures found in Nate's backpack. The rocks I found in his pockets made me want to cry. Just like when he was a little boy.

The treasures found in Nate’s backpack. The rocks I found in his pockets made me want to cry. Just like when he was a little boy.

With about an hour left before we had to take everyone back, I finished the laundry. Folding the t-shirts, sorting the socks, double-checking the pockets for any residue, I was content at the end of the day. What a sense of ac- complishment.

Yes, I wanted to do a better job but the clothes were much cleaner than they were eight hours previously.

The Hubs and I were exhausted but it was the least we could do for these hopeful Rangers. As the guys put on their freshly washed uniforms, it was a proud moment. We hugged goodbye, I tearfully kissed my sweet boy and they put their duffel bags on their shoulders, ready to return.

Looking better, smelling nicer, feeling like they were ready to do this. Rangers lead the way! Let's do this!

Looking better, smelling nicer, feeling like they were ready to do this. Rangers lead the way!

I will always ove this guy no matter how stinky he is or how gross his clothes are!

I will always love this guy no matter how stinky he is or how gross his clothes are!

Advice from a young bride about being a good mother-in-law

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Pretty, young and wise

Pretty, young and wise

Today’s post is from my friend, Hannah. I wrote a blog post about a time we recently spent together and when I learned she was a writer, an idea was born! She just celebrated her NINE MONTH wedding ann- iversary and I knew her fresh observations as a daughter-in-law would be useful to me. Lord willing, one day I will welcome three daughters-in-law into this family. Here’s her story and reflections.

I marry my best friend at the not-so-young age of 19. He’s been my best friend since I was 15 years old and my childhood fleets quickly. A ring finds its way on my finger, one on his too. We become one, and I become a Daniel.

August 4th, 2012 is birthed into this earth and the small church to the right of the one-road-town fills quickly.

Marrying Andrew is the best decision I ever made, besides my salvation. But can I share a not-so-secret? Not only did I hit the jackpot by marrying an incredible God-loving, handsome man, but I hit the Lotto when I got his family as mine, too.

Not that mine is bad but I enter his whole family coming from a broken one. There was yelling, stubbornness, and a divorce after 28 years of marriage for reasons I’ll never fully understand, yet my mum+dad love me, all the same.

For those reasons there is something almost magical about being a part of a family whole, untainted. Why? Because I’m now (treated like) part of a whole.

Especially by his Momma.

I know, right? She is much less Monster-in-Law’s (the movie with J-Lo) Jane Fonda and more like  an angel from heaven that you get to call mom, gives the best gifts and hugs and advice…and serves the best FOOD. Yes, always food. I TOLD you I hit the Lottery with this gem of a family! So bear with me while I brag, because if you wanna know why she is the best mom-in-law (MIL[s]) everrr and what you future or current MIL’s can do have an awesome relationship with your daughter-in-laws..weeeelll, I’ll let you in on her secrets.

549585_10151175544017033_28494589_nSincerity –  It’s all you need, really. Be a momma to your new daughter—You have raised a man that she loves, so find out why he loves her back! Be a spirit-bearer (Galatians 5:22-23), and invest into her life and get to know her. Personally, I know I felt home (yes, it’s a feeling!), when I felt like she wanted me to be there, a part of her family.

Get to know her, and want it – Especially as a new wife, it’s tempting to keep all the bad stuff about you hidden and only let the most spectacular things about you shine. Yet, somehow, this home feeling came for me when I knew she wanted to get to know me, not this fabricated version of who I’m not.  Ask her to help you fold laundry as a means for talking (yes, domesticity made me feel like family) and gain a level of friendship with her. Sincerely mean it when you say she’s family.

911412_455036954579193_497764209_n

What a great looking bunch!

Acceptance – From what I’ve observed, MILs see their daughter-in-laws (DILs) as a nuisance—someone invading and imposing on her family. I would hope DILs, just like MILs, are seen as a joy to be around.

Jesus teaches us to love our neighbor (DILs included!) as ourselves, and that can be a difficult burden or a wonderful blessing. Nevertheless, your call is still the same, “Love each other as I have loved you” (John 15:12). How? By letting facades fall: Be yourself and let her be herself (sins and all). You’ll become really appreciative of one another. (I know it’s true in my case).

And when all else fails –

912048_455036951245860_333159125_nPray – Can anything good happen apart from the Lord? Pray for her personally as a woman, a sister in Christ. Pray for her marriage to your son, for them to have a thriving marriage, reflecting the parable that it is: Christ and the Church. Pray for your relationship with her (especially if loving her is difficult).

Love her, sincerely; Accept her, fully; Pray for her, continually.

And I bet you will be a mother-in-law who is cherished.

Questions – What advice do you have for mother-in-laws? Daughters-in-law, what have you learned from your MIL?

Check out Hannah’s blog at Common Thought. Such a sweet and gifted young woman.

Five minute Friday – brave

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photo copy 2Why just typing about the subject of bravery is well, brave.

My heartbeat is increasing with each.word.placed.

An idea has been swirling in my head for a while now and I’m afraid. I scarcely allow myself to ponder this and now I’m nearing the moment of revealing it to you.

A sample of the things I used this week. I feel happy in the kitchen.

A sample of the things I used this week. I feel happy in the kitchen.

What if my idea succeeds? What if it’s a total failure? What’s my motivation? Do I have the physical, financial, emotional resources needed to make it work?

Speaking to over 50,000 teenagers about saving sex for marriage was brave. Sharing incredibly personal stories about my past was something I asked the Lord to help me with every time I did it and that was for nearly eight years.

But now the Lord is placing, (I think) an idea which scares me as much as the first time I entered a high school classroom full of very skeptical kids.

My dining room

My dining room

I’m thinking about opening my home to encourage women with cooking and hospitality. Not as a money making idea, not to sell any kitchen gadgets or products, but just to encourage women in the art of domesticity. This is something so very close to my essence as a wife, mother and homemaker.

I think about this idea when I am chopping red cabbage or stirring up a homemade salad dressing in the kitchen. When I’m roasting poblano peppers or making a pretty table setting for my family, I feel this urge to open my home and show others how to do it. I’m so not an expert which is why I’m afraid to try.

When I think about going forward, I bravely ask God, “Is this what you want me to do?” It’s sad that I don’t know any of my neighbors, what if they reject me? So many questions and doubts but yet an eagerness and an unction to try.

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it!

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it!

Should I do it? What is the brave thing you are contemplating?

Check out this word party. This might be the brave thing you need to do!

The power of a praying proctologist

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"Thank you, Sir, may I have another?"

“Thank you, Sir, may I have another?”

All of the preparations for the colonoscopy went as expected; it was what occurred moments before the actual procedure that were a surprise. I planned on writing about my colonoscopy experience in an effort to help others but I KNEW I was going to write when my doctor surprised me.

As the medical team wheeled me into the area, we engaged in pleasant conversation. After all this time, things were finally ready. A sterile piece of equipment was soon headed where no man had trodden asunder.

But before the doctor began the colonoscopy, my doctor did the craziest thing.

He prayed for me.

And it wasn’t a haphazard, “I better do this because I’m a doctor in the Bible Belt” kind of supplication.

No, quite the contrary.

Um, yeah...

Um, yeah…

Instead, he gently leaned over me, the room grew still and he kindly placed his hands on me and prayed. As the words flowed out of his mouth, I remember distinctly feeling that this guy meant what he said.

Though there was a very embarrassing aspect of what was going to happen next, this man was caring for another part of me that was even more raw and I wouldn’t have thought that possible. It was my heart, the spiritual beating of my soul.

I didn’t feel like I was in a revival which is hilarious considering I was getting a colonoscopy and those things don’t usually go together. Nor did I sense that he was scared about what he was going to do so he had to ask Jesus for help. Instead I sensed humility, reverence and respect. He recognized that he was being entrusted with a special task. Our previous conversations have basically dealt with far more temporal matters, wink, wink. As I lay there on the table, I thought, “Thank you God. No matter what, this is going to be ok.”

And while I recognize that some people might find this whole praying notion super weird, for me, I wanted to sing with joy.

Before drifting into a fuzzy vapor, I declared, “You have no idea what a comfort your prayer was to me. Why didn’t I know this about you before? I’m going to tell all the ladies in my Bible Study about you!”

Then his assistant talked to me about Chicago cuisine.

Prayers!

Portillo’s!

Pizza!

Oh yes, what a glorious day! Bring on the colonoscopy!

And then poof, the procedure was done and I was awake. As if the experience couldn’t get more wonderful, I dreamt about Justin Bieber. Not even joking.

So here I sit praising God that I can sit.

I rejoice that my test results weren’t just good, y’all they were “EXCELLENT.” Every aspect of the tests were EXCELLENT! #shablam #eatgreenthings

As the medication wore off and the doctor spoke to my husband, over and over again, I said, “You have no idea what your prayer did for me. Thank you. This was the BEST COLONOSCOPY EVER!”

Me

Me

Pass this post onto someone you love who needs a colonoscopy. Tell them that yes, it’s awkward, unpleasant and a basically big giant poo-fest but s/he can do it. I did and I’m a wimp. I hope I kept it real but not real gross. God does show up in the strangest and most amazing places.

Five minute Friday – friend

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photo copy 11When someone chooses to call me her “friend,” I have to catch my breath. Did she just call me a friend? It blesses one of the most tender places in my heart.

It’s like a badge of honor to move from being someone a person just “knows” to being elevated to friendship status and I’m not talking about getting friended on facebook. If I am introduced to someone, I admit I pay close attention to how they refer to me.

I know someone who competes with others on the amount of facebook friends she has. It is massively annoying. That’s not friendship.

Recently in casual conversation, I discovered a new friend of mine was having a colonoscopy three days before I was going to have mine. We have shared some personal things in the short time we’ve gotten to know each other. It meant a lot that she shared intimate details with me about the procedure.

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it!

Writing for five minutes is a treasure. Do it!

To enter that private place with someone and feel safe, to laugh and be encouraged, I received a gift AND a colonoscopy. One (the person) was better than the other (the procedure) but they went well together in a weird sort of way.

I received a text from this woman at 6:30 in the morning the day of my procedure. She was checking on me. I would have assumed she was asleep but early in the morning, she reached out.

Do you have any idea what a sweet comfort it was to ask her the most indelicate questions and feel totally safe? I’m praising God for the many people who call me their friend.

Join us for a writing adventure, click here for the deets.

Colonoscopy, part two

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The colonoscopy prep continued yet I never lost my indomitable sense of humor. That’s not ever going to be flushable. Read on if you dare. I am keeping it real but not real gross.

photo copy 27Admittedly, there were many times I wanted to give up. I wanted to eat, relax, have a reprieve. I had already put it off for a year, why not postpone it a little longer? The only thing that stopped me from ruining the process was the strong desire to not have to do it again anytime in the near future!

7. Since I was restricted to a liquids only fast, I asked the Hubs if he and Ike could not eat in front of me. As picture #7 proves, this worked until I spotted him with a bowl of cereal. Since his colonoscopy is next Thursday. I might grill a steak the night before to give him a dose of his own medicine.

8. Ironically, though things were flying and that’s putting it mildly, at 7:47pm, my ability to leave the bathroom for more than 10 seconds was realized. Someone on Survivor ate a bite of pig brains and I contemplated the contestants’ bodily functions in between experiencing my own. “Wow, they must have a lot of diarrhea and other intestinal issues,” I mused in empathy.

9. Following a worthless night of sleep, I chugged another 16 oz. of the solution and swigged an additional 32 oz. of water.

10. Chills went up my spine and I braced for the next round of activity around 6:26 in the morning. A friend sent me a text telling me she was praying for me and we shared another bowel bonding moment.

"I'm not having a colonoscopy in the technical sense but I'm back in Ranger School so it's almost the same thing!"

“I’m not having a colonoscopy in the technical sense but I’m back in Ranger School so it’s almost the same thing!”

Weary and irritable. I pondered the fact that my Soldier had begun Ranger School that EXACT SAME morning. When I had informed Nate of my colonoscopy, we had chuckled a few days prior. “Mom, basically I’m going to be having the same thing done to me on that day!” Oh how I love that kid!

11. Back to those Charmin Freshmates. Truly a Godsend. During my experience, I wondered if I might go through the entire box. When feelings of guilt or indulgence came my way, I told myself I deserved such extravagance. On this morning, Charmin Freshmates were the equivalent of me eating a bowl of slightly melted vanilla bean ice cream with salted caramel sauce enjoyed with an unsticky spoon and that’s saying quite a lot!

12. Then everything settled down at 8:40am. You don’t realize how full of it you are, until you aren’t. I had no more to give and I’ll spare you the biological details.

I’m proud of me for taking care of myself! Send this post to a loved one who needs a colonoscopy. They can do it!

7 things an honorable guy wants in a woman – what my sons say

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Two clueless people decide to get married. Engaged in France 1986

Two clueless people decide to get married. Engaged in France 1986

When I was single, I had my own list of husband qualities.

My future husband had to:

Be ambitious

Be a guy with low anger and rage issues

Love God

Own a set of pots and pans

Do his own laundry

Spontaneously give me flowers

I knew the Hubs was “the one” when I noticed he was a hard worker who didn’t fly off the handle when things didn’t go his way. He wanted to go to church with me and used spiritual words I had never understood despite some religious training. He competently washed his clothes and one day while getting me something to drink from the fridge, he handed me a bouquet of miniature roses. Sure, his pots and pans looked more like camping equipment and he gave me roses when I prefer wild flowers but yeah, close enough.

A giant gulp lodged in my throat when he nonchalantly gave me those flowers and a cold beer. About a year later, we were married. Tulips, delphinium and daffodils still arrive at home without reason from this guy. I’m a blessed woman.

Now my boys are entering relationships. We enjoy open conversation with our olive shoots about what makes a young lady worthy of their time and attention. My prayers were answered when I married their dad. Now I pray for them and their future spouses. Here are a few things on their collective lists:

Three great guys who have high standards.

Three great guys who have high standards.

They desire a woman who:

Loves Jesus – my boys have a personal relationship with Christ, this is a non-negotiable that she know the Lord.

Is attractive and in good shape – What guy do you know who doesn’t want his friends to say, “Dude, how did YOU end up with someone this fine???”

Has a sense of humor – Not a comedienne but a witty, clever girl, you know, like their mama and stuff.

Wants a family – These guys want kids, they talk about being dads, it’s an exciting thing to consider fatherhood and they have been given a wonderful role model. If she doesn’t want children, this isn’t going to work.

Desires to take care of a home – My sons pray for wives who have a joy in domesticity and believe in the art of homemaking. It’s a shame that our world trivializes this, they are admirable and natural things.

Is unashamedly intelligent – The ministry minded middle loves to discuss theological concerns, my Soldier is a huge bibliophile. My orange hair, freckle face OS finds it annoying when girls try to act dumb. Being a smart female is very desirable to my olive shoots. I am relieved to hear them say this is important.

Has a good relationship with her family and likes us too – If she can’t get along with her family, how is she going to get along with ours? She will soon discover we are a family with flaws. If we aren’t crazy about her, won’t that just be awkward and discouraging? They are independent young men but they realize you don’t marry just the girl but the whole family.

This is just a partial list and I’m pleased to say I have thus far approved of my sons’ selections of young women to pursue. If I get their permission, perhaps I’ll write more.

Questions: If you are the mother of sons, do you ask your boys what they desire in a wife? What are the qualities they mention? Don’t you wish this was a more common parent/child conversation?

A mom raising girls speaks to a mom raising boys

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A mom of three daughters is the voice behind today's post!

A mom of three daughters is the voice behind today’s post!

I recently asked a writer friend of mine for her perspective. As the mom of three girls, I wanted to hear what she had to say to me as the mama of three boys. It seems other-worldly to even posit what it would be like in a home loaded with estrogen instead of testosterone. It’s an intriguing and terrifying consideration.

Here are Marietta’s thoughts.  I just love her to bits…

About a year ago, the oldest of my three daughters was scheduled to meet a photographer at a local garden for her senior portraits. We had been waiting for the appointment for several months, and planned to have family pictures taken afterwards. The photographer felt that April would give us the prettiest weather and blooms, while still allowing a few weeks before graduation to have the photos processed.

It was a beautiful day, but the afternoon forecast held a chance of thunderstorms, and at home, our own storm was brewing. Family tension turned into a full-blown discussion with angry, hurtful words. Twenty minutes before it was time to leave, we were still sitting at the kitchen table trying to untangle ourselves from the argument.

Meanwhile, dark clouds rolled in and it began to rain. The photographer called, expressing concern, but I refused to be deterred. We would be there, by golly, and unless a downpour prevented it, this mother was going to have a senior picture of her daughter. This wouldn’t be the first time we smiled through our hypocrisy.

Later that evening, as we drove home from the photo shoot, and a concert we had attended afterwards, we reflected on the craziness of the day. “’It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,’” I quoted, and everyone agreed. Strangely, that has become a recurring theme over the past year and a half. Family tensions remain. At the same time, we have created many happy memories.

The result of this topsy-turvy lifestyle has been that I often feel inadequate and threatened, both in my role as a mother and as a wife. My relationships with my daughters and with my husband are being redefined daily as we experience the first leaving of the nest. I have been shaken.

In the context of all of this, dear Cindy entered, asking me to be a guest writer on her blog. I was pleased to say “yes,” and eager to write something worthy. Later, when she gave me the topic, I was a little less enthused: “advice for moms raising boys from a mom raising girls.” Hmmm. I’m not sure people really like advice. I really don’t know anything about boys. Come to think of it, I’m not feeling like I know very much about girls. So the thinking went.

Point your children to Christ in all things – Whether we’re raising boys or girls, it’s the same goal. Admittedly, this can be tedious work. It’s easy to feel that we should be doing something bigger or more important with our time. Maybe it doesn’t really matter who left toothpaste in the sink again, or whose turn it is to do the dishes, whether the chores get done on Saturday, or whether you’re really listening to me at the dinner table.

Marietta and her girls back in the day!

Marietta and her girls back in the day!

Continue to diligently follow Jesus and help your family follow Him – I love the way Tedd Tripp puts it in his DVD series The Case for Kids. He says, “We think these little moments don’t make any difference. Those are the moments you have with your children.  And ten thousand little moments makes the character of a life. God is the God of little moments.” Yes, life is so many moments, so many snapshots. Sometimes we’re at our best, sometimes we’re at our worst. But God is always for us, in all things.

Now before you cry foul, let me say that I have also mulled over thoroughly the notion of boy-girl differences, and I acknowledge that there are some. I tried to picture myself with boys, and I pictured the house looking a lot more dirty and banged-up than it already is. I pictured myself going to pour a glass of orange juice and wondering who drank straight from the bottle and deciding to have coffee instead. It’s true that when my girls were little, they didn’t struggle with potty talk, turn everyday objects into guns, or leap from the furniture. On the other hand, they didn’t come out of the womb crocheting doilies either.

Boys become men, and some of them are better at it than others – By the time I was nineteen (the age of my oldest daughter, and the age of my husband when we first met), even as a new Christian, I had formed some definite opinions about what made a godly man marriage material. I had a checklist of requirements for my future mate, and if a young man didn’t measure up, there was no need for a first date.

So I decided to ask my daughters if they had ever made a list of the qualities they were looking for in a potential husband. I was pleased to find that they each had a list, and that they were very open and willing to share many of the qualities with me. Here are some of the things they said:

He is a strong Christian, able to lead and encourage spiritually.
-He is responsible, hard-working, and able to support himself financially.
-He values his own purity as well as mine.
-He treats his mother and sisters (if any) well.
-He is kind.
-He has a sense of humor.
-He is willing to serve others.
-He is a good communicator.
-He is emotionally mature.
-He loves children.
-He shares some of my interests.

Thank you, dear daughters, for your many gifts to me. I treasure you each more than you could know. May you find the man of your dreams, the man of God’s choosing. And may God bless you, mother of this young man, with wisdom and strength as you parent him in the little moments of daily life, and as you keep an eye to the future. I have been praying for you.

Questions: What part of Marietta’s list of qualities speaks the most to you? What would you add to the list? I’d love to hear your thoughts, I’m listening!