Tag Archives: love

Spending time in prison

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

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

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

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bookshelf at the prison

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

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

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

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

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Open Letter to the Military

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To all those who served in the military,

I am sorry that I used to overlook Veteran’s Day.

I apologize for being annoyed when I didn’t get mail because November 11th is a federal holiday. It doesn’t bother me anymore. 

Or forgetting to fly our flag, it has been waving proudly on our porch since last night.
 
I wish I would have told more of you “thank you” a long time ago but I am now the mama of a Soldier and you deserved my appreciation before then. 
 
Now I see your Veteran’s hats and your license plates and my heart is beginning to understand.
 
I notice the bumper stickers of parents of military service people and I want to jump out of my mini-van and tell them I am learning what this means.
 
My life and this day will never be the same.
 
Thank you for your sacrifice to defend our freedom.
 
God bless you for being away from your family, friends and the comforts of  home.
 
For those birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, even just regular days when you are not surrounded by the people who love you, I am humbled whenever I consider what that must be like for you. 

Thank you for being able to serve our country whether you like the president or voted for him. I didn’t realize that until my own child put it into perspective. 
 
Thank you for going to places most of us would never want to live or visit. 
 
I confess that I might have still remained ignorant about all these things if my son hadn’t joined the Army.
 
You have done your job for your country and all the people in it. Including those completely support your endeavors and those who scoff at your service, those who would never have the courage to give everything up for a cause greater than themselves.
 
Until my own son made an oath to serve his country and I saw him in his uniform, 
 
I was naive.
But not anymore, and that is a good thing,
 
I just needed to tell you this from the bottom of my mama’s heart.
 
Thank you.

Three Little Words That Meant So Much

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Who’s that hot babe with the scooter? It’s me! HA! Who’s that hot guy next to her? That’s my son! GA!

Now that I’ve got that out of the way…

There are several sentences I have come to treasure as a mom.

1. I love you.
2. You look pretty.
 
and then this one, my oldest OS said this morning.
 
3. I need you.
 
Moms out there, you know what I mean. Now when my son said this it didn’t sound quite so mushy and the sentence was longer but the three words that resonated for me on Sunday morning were I need you. 
My mama brain processed the other words but those three words transported right into my mama’s heart. 

The reason my son made this statement is that apparently one morning at West Point, an upperclassman took one look at his robe and noticed that it was “jacked’ up. It isn’t good to be “jacked” up in general but especially at the United States Military Academy. When my boy came home this weekend, he asked me if I could make the necessary repairs. “Mom, could you sew my robe? I need you to fix it for me, please.” 
 
After he requested my assistance, I asked him, “What did you say?” My son seemed confused by my question, so I tried again. “Nate, what were those three words you used just a minute ago?”
 
He just stood there oblivious to my persistent interrogation but not willing to give up, I prompted him some more. “Nate, you asked me to do something. Why did you ask me to do something??? Work with me, Son!” 
Finally he got it. “I need you.” 
 
It’s different when you’re a mom of little ones who constantly demand every bit of your attention. That season of life is gone for me. But when your 18 year old son says something even remotely like “I need you” a smart mama jumps at the chance.
At West Point, I can’t be with him to do his push-ups. I can’t help him with Knowledge. I can’t tell the people who yell at my son to please use kind words instead (HA!) The truth is there is very little I can do but love my son, support his choices and every now and then, with dwindling regularity, do something no one else can do. In this case, it was to fix his robe.

I took out my brand new Brother sewing machine (ain’t she a beauty?) and got busy. I fixed the collar and reinforced the stitching. 
I took the front pocket 2/3 of the way off to sew on a patch. I mended a teeny part of the sleeve and then turned my stitching dial to 64 and added a little mama touch.
I sewed a very tiny row of hearts on one of the cuffs. No one else will see them but I couldn’t resist. I don’t have too many opportunities to sew hearts on things as a mother of three sons. I had to “carpe diem” as my OS would say. 

There might come a time at West Point when he needs to remember that little tiny row of hearts or maybe I just did it for me. I don’t know and it really doesn’t matter. Nathan boards a plane early Monday morning and I will surely miss feeling needed by my precious Soldier and loving son. Hopefully he will have more mending on his next visit!
 
I need you too, Nathan.
Thanks for making me feel significant with three simple words. 

Oh happy day – letters after R-Day

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

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

Our son wrote us!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aaron writes about the day’s happenings.

Ike shares that he has thrown up.

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

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

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

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

It’s tough when no news comes your way.

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

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

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

Head to toe prayers

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

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

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

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

a5ee1-p1040184What Nathan needs is prayer.

Specifically for his big toe.

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

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

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

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

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

Feeling better – mama of a soldier presses on…

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RDay 063

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, I’m going the other extreme by wearing  

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

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

– a West Point golf shirt

P1020552– an Army baseball cap and

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is God.

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

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

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

Go Army, Beat Navy!

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

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

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

R-Day, 60 seconds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Psalm 63:7- 8

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

Leaving civilian life behind, becoming military parents

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We just ate our last lunch as a civilian family in our home. In about an hour, we will head out for West Point, first stopping at a special family’s house along the way which is sure to be a bloggable event.

We are becoming a military family, I guess. In true W-H fashion, we did not have a Norman Rockwell dinner or lunch where we were all sitting around the table, laughing and smiling with every bite, singing Kum-Bi-Yah.

I guess we are a really human family and my expectations might have been too high. I am disappointed but trying to not dwell on things not ending perfectly like I wanted. :/

At this point, I’m averaging about 6-8 crying jags a day and think waterproof mascara is the order of the day for about the next week at least.

If you are reading this, please pray for us as we make this important journey. It is becoming a reality and I need to keep my eyes on Jesus.

I am the mama of a soldier…I am the mama of a soldier.

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26

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…

Awkward carrot

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My dad amidst his bountiful tomatoes.

My dad amidst his bountiful tomatoes.

My dad was an avid gardener and I guess I thought it might be in the “genes” as they say.

But I do not have a green thumb.

The Hubs and I are not great landscapers and do not have an eye for flora and fauna.

A while back, we decided we would try a garden.

I love fresh veggies and would take a fresh, warm tomato over a piece of chocolate any day.

Over the weekend, Mark was weeding the “garden” when he traipsed on into the house with this…probably the funniest looking vegetable I’ve ever seen!

According to the seed packet, we should have enjoyed this carrot and all its orange friends a LONG time ago. Our carrot has taken a major time to grow, to say the least

There is a spiritual connection to all this. The Bible speaks about bearing fruit, fruit that will last (John 15:16).

So let me ask you a personal question, what kind of fruit are you growing?

According to the seed packet, we should have enjoyed this carrot and all its orange friends a LONG time ago.

Our carrot has taken a major time to grow, to say the least.

How are you maturing in the Lord?

Can you see growth or development or are you in a weird kind of place, stuck in a rut for years, much like our carrot?

Do you know how long it took for this beauty to grow?

Three years.

That’s right, for three years we have been waiting for something to sprout from our pitiful little garden.

Take a look at the picture, I think it must be a boy carrot. How perfect that a mom of three SONS would receive such a treasure! We have had a lot of laughs with its most awkward shape and at the risk of impropriety, I had to share it.

But I pray you find yourself bearing fruit of a most abundant variety from your verdant figurative garden of faith and if you’re so inclined, from the literal garden the one you might be growing this season.