Five Minute Friday – ordinary

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My boy is working on getting his Ranger tab.

My boy is working on getting his Ranger tab.

There is nothing ordinary about Ranger School. Some describe it as an intense 61-day combat leadership course. It has been called the “toughest combat course in the world” and “the most physically and mentally demanding leadership school the Army has to offer.” This is all true but for me it’s where a piece of my heart now dwells because my son is there.

On Wednesday night starting at about 9:00 pm, those who had made it through the first few days of grueling initial training, started a 12 mile ruck (Army slang for march) that ended at about midnight. From all accounts it is a brutal trek.

And I see the Lord’s hands upon my Soldier. When he was about eight years old, the Hubs and I were watching tv. Nate had his prayer journal nearby and was writing.

Not many eight year old boys even possess a prayer journal but my oldest olive shoot is extra-ordinary. He inquired, “How do you spell Hallelujah?”

This kid is well beyond ordinary and I praise the Lord for that!

This kid is well beyond ordinary and I praise the Lord for that!

The Hubs and I just looked at each other dumbfounded.

Who was this kid? How did he get to living in this house with us as his parents???

These moments became rather ordinary, Nate doing things in a remarkable and humble way.

Things most people can’t do or choose not to and there Nate is plodding away, his eyes on the prize.

Academically, athletically and most importantly spiritually, my olive shoot presses on, marches on.

Nate’s ordinary is everyone else’s incredible.

Bless him and all those who are joining him on the journey.

It's like getting a little word present every week. You should check it out!

It’s like getting a little word present every week. You should check it out!

Motherhood gets easier and more difficult, that’s my story and I guess I’m sticking to it

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“My prayer life has exponentially increased since you guys have gotten older.” 

This was my recent statement to my ministry minded middle many miles away. (Hope you enjoyed the alliteration)!

Foolishly I supposed that my olive shoots would be good to go when they got up and went. WRONG.

A text my Soldier sent me. He knows I love words and have experienced a great deal of shemozzle lately.

A text my Soldier sent me. He knows I love words and have experienced a great deal of shemozzle lately.

I have discovered that there is great shemozzle in the land outside the oasis of my home. Frankly, chaos can also stir within our own abode as well but WOW, I’m often shaking my head in disbelief at the trouble in the world. And I’m not talking about the country’s problems, either.

Ten days ago, I took the Hubs to the hospital because the urgent care facility thought he had a ruptured spleen (he didn’t but the Hubs has a broken rib and chest contusions following a very random fall). Hours later my oldest OS began Ranger School. That sounds like a very full day but there was more.

Write, pray, walk, read, draw, maybe clean the kitchen, cook, write, pray, walk, read, draw, maybe vacuum, repeat

Write, pray, walk, read, draw, maybe clean the kitchen, cook, write, pray, walk, read, draw, maybe vacuum, repeat

Later that afternoon my ministry minded middle called me with a very distressing situation. My head and heart were overwhelmed and utterly incredulous.

Then the orange hair, freckle face OS had a basketball game that night. All I wanted to do was enclose him in bubble wrap.

“Oh Father, I pray that nothing else happens today.”

Ike was fine but the Hubs was in so much pain, I considered calling an ambulance.

I used to pray for my olive shoots to be potty trained, to not hit their brothers. I lifted them up to the Lord for sportsmanship, purity, kindness, respect.

They are potty trained and refrain from random acts of violence. We have made progress. Now my job has changed. It struck me, if I did nothing else during the day, I should at least be praying for my olive shoots. If you see me walking, I am not talking to myself. I do not hear pretend voices, do not be afraid. I do not own a Blue Tooth either. I am simply praying to the Lord, probably for my kids. And the Hubs. And me. Maybe even for you which is not quite as random as it might seem.

These are the things which cheer my soul. Can you relate?

These are the things which cheer my soul. Can you relate?

This Scripture I have drawn, it was part of my weekly reading for a women’s Bible study? Coincidence? HA! I needed to read these and claim them!

Can you identify with any of the cares of my heart that I have listed? How about the consolations? Please share!

For the losers, 5 lessons learned in junior high about running for political office

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Don’t let this picture fool you, I was a serious candidate, btw.

I know something about running for political office. I ran for Treasurer back in junior high. This is my advice for all the losers in today’s elections. It’s the least I can do for democracy.

Please feel free to pass this blog post along to the losers of today’s elections. I sure do hope it helps them move forward.

1. Be gracious – When I was running for Treasurer back at Jefferson Junior High in the 1970s, I learned to hold my head high as I walked past those who did not vote for me. And I did so in bell bottom jeans no less. Yes, I wanted to burst into tears upon the news of my failure. Sure, in addition, I was dealing with hormonal issues, what 12-13 year old girl isn’t? Yes, I had body issues, poor posture and pimples but did I seek vengeance on my opponents? NO! It probably crossed my mind but I chose higher ground. Dear losers, be nice even when you lose.

2. Work on your public speaking – I found speaking into the intercom during school announcements absolutely terrifying. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I lost. Not sure. My fellow classmates probably detected the quiver in my voice when I spoke into the microphone. So what did I do about it? Did that stop me from ever speaking again? NO, my friends. After college, I had a career teaching executives public speaking across the country and in three countries. Later, I spoke to over 50,000 kids about super private stuff like waiting to have sex. If you work on your presentation skills, you can channel that skill set into other endeavors. If I can do it, so can you.

3. Stand for something – With nearly three decades to ponder the reason for my unsuccessful bid as junior high treasurer, I think my platform might have been weak. I should have outlined clearer goals and strategies.

4. Campaign ads don’t always work – Trust me. I spent HOURS working on stenciling my campaign slogan on poster board. I bought neon poster paper plus I used brand new, smelly magic markers. WIN with WINTER was my catchy phrase, how perfect but guess what? I lost, people! You can pour yourself into your campaign, develop the slickest designs out there and still not rock the vote. It’s going to be ok.

5. Pursue other dreams. Try other things. If you would have told me as junior high Cindy and that in just two short years, I would make history, I wouldn’t have believed you. But sitting in front of me as I type, I hold the title for being Gala West’s MOST IMPROVED BOWLER – 1974-1975. The trophy sits proudly in my office next to my computer. I’m looking at it right now. Dear losers, may my story inspire you. My dreams were not dashed only diverted.

The coveted Most Improved Bowler trophy, yeah, I got insurance on this.

My Soldier, myself and my trophy. Btw, You can order your own doll at http://stores.oliveshootinstitute.com/-strse-26/Guinea-Pig-Girl-Doll/Detail.bok

Interesting side note – two of my three olive shoots have also run for student body political offices. I’m the mother of two former class senators (Nate and Aaron) and the mother of the student body President (Aaron). Furthermore, as the mama of a West Point grad (Nate), a comparative politics major no less, my public service aspirations or that of my olive shoots will not be revealed but here’s a hint. We will not rule out a future run for office. Stay tuned and be encouraged all you winners and losers out there!

Do you have any suggestions for the losers based on your junior or high school government days? I’d love to hear them! Check out http://stores.oliveshootinstitute.com/-strse-26/Guinea-Pig-Girl-Doll/Detail.bok if you’d like a super cool homemade gift for the holidays!

One foot forward – update on Nate and then some

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img_20111025_111305Originally published Oct. 25, 2011 –

There’s nothing more annoying than someone stealing your spotlight.

Not to be outdone, my tibia decided it was sick and tired of Nate’s ACL getting all the attention. So yesterday my left leg became encapsulated in an orthopedic boot for the next three weeks and I’m only to walk a total of one-two hours A DAY. That’ll teach Nate and his so-called ACL repair…OY!

Seriously though, my oldest OS is doing so well.

The Hubs went to visit him during a business trip and they bravely went to New York City.

It’s scary enough walking around the Big Apple as an able-bodied person but as you will soon see in this video clip, my OS took on NYC like a BOSS.

I love how the lady by the curb doesn’t even step aside as Nate comes barreling through. Nice. Thank you Mobilegs for making such a great product, your crutches have made such a difference in my son’s recovery.

img_20111009_1132461That awkward Cinderella moment between brothers – the shoe fits!

When Aaron and I were at West Point, I observed brotherly love in a fresh way.

Five years ago, almost to the day, Nate had his first ACL surgery.

Aaron and Ike attended to Nate in the manner fitting of a then 12 and 10-year-old.

One of the post-surgery highlights was when the two guys competed each day to see which brother could collect the most wee-wee from the urinal. Such a proud mommy moment.

Thankfully everyone has matured. My orange haired, freckle face almost 15-year-old stayed behind for driver’s ed but loaded up a box of treats for Nate replete with a funny card. He spoke to him regularly and showed sincere concern.

It was my middle OS that displayed such a servant’s heart, I found myself nearly thankful for Nate’s injury.

When Nate’s surgery was scheduled first thing in the morning, Aaron cheerfully awakened to join me at the hospital.

Anything Nate needed, Aaron offered to help.

Anything I needed, Aaron was equally joyful to do.

Fill Nate’s ice machine, get him fresh water, fluff his pillows, Aaron literally poured himself out to his brother and he was remarkably patient with me.

My boy sacrificed his own Fall break to help Nate and then only three days after getting home from New York, Aaron was the patient. He had wisdom teeth surgery!

It was my middle OS that displayed such a servant’s heart, I found myself nearly thankful for Nate’s injury.

When Nate’s surgery was scheduled first thing in the morning, Aaron cheerfully awakened to join me at the hospital.

Anything Nate needed, Aaron offered to help.

Anything I needed, Aaron was equally joyful to do.

Fill Nate’s ice machine, get him fresh water, fluff his pillows, Aaron literally poured himself out to his brother and he was remarkably patient with me.

My boy sacrificed his own Fall break to help Nate and then only three days after getting home from New York, Aaron was the patient. He had wisdom teeth surgery!

img_20111010_1011532It’s not the best quality picture but I captured a tender moment when it was time to say goodbye.

Of course, the lacrimal glands were activated as I hugged my boy’s neck.

We had such a treasured time together.

There was another WP mom picking up her son by Grant turn-around and she wiped tears from her eyes at the sight. Aaron carried his big brother’s laundry and stuff as Nate crutched back to life at West Point. Yes, I was crying.

But then I really lost it as Aaron accompanied Nate to the barracks.
Nate was limping along on his Mobilegs as Aaron carried Nate’s stuff back to his room.

Two beautiful, godly young men and brothers displaying love and gratitude.

They are there for each other.

They share joy and sorrow, struggles and success.

Neither distance, nor disability of any kind or length, nor differences will separate my three OS from each other. Ever.

Let it be so.

Colonel Kail is my friend

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I was so glad I asked Eric about all his decorations and medals. I wasn’t sure if that was appropriate to do but he explained each one and I was duly impressed.

Today I want to celebrate a military man who greatly influences my oldest OS, the Hubs and me.

Eric Kail and his family moved to North Carolina so he could pursue his PhD in organizational psychology at North Carolina State University. I first met his wife Gigi at a roller skating rink watching our kids go around the mindless oval.

At the time, I had no idea how much we would grow to love this couple. They were welcome additions to church and our Sunday School class. The Hubs and I enjoyed getting to know them and considered them funny, real and honest folks. I appreciated Eric’s service to our country but I underestimated his credentials.*

And when Gigi mentioned during lunch at Panera Bread that her dad had been the “Supe” at West Point, I’m pretty sure that didn’t faze me one way or the other. “Ok, so he was a ‘big wig’ at West Point, isn’t this salad delicious?” We just liked the Kail’s plain and simple.

Fast forward a few years and upon successful completion of his studies at NC State, the Kail’s got stationed in Seoul, Korea for two years.

We were sad and honestly didn’t think we would see them again this side of heaven.

But God has an interesting way of bringing people together again and in the fall of 2007, our oldest OS suddenly declared his desire to go to West Point. Although they were in Korea and we were still in North Carolina, our lives began syncing back together. The words “West Point” that I had taken for granted now had great meaning. Why did they have to live so far away when we needed to talk and figure this thing out?

Eric began to call us from Korea. He gave us insight and prepared us for the road ahead. The night he told us the brutal truth about Beast and R-Day, I distinctly remember collapsing on the carpet in our office. Nathan might be able to do West Point but I knew I couldn’t! Eric didn’t mince words about how hard it would be to say goodbye to our son but I also trusted his honesty and the confidence he had in all of us.

Even when Army loses, if you’re with the Kail’s, it’s a good time!

The next thing you know Nate finishes his plebe year and the Kail’s get stationed at West Point! I never saw this coming! We stay with the Kail’s when we go to see our OS and our friendship is rekindled. Army football games, Ring Weekend, Nate has knee surgery in the fall of his firstie year and the Kail’s are to the rescue.

Nate comes to rely on Colonel Kail’s wisdom and advice and does an occasional load of laundry at their house. Their hospitality is unmatched and we always feel at home in their midst.

Most importantly so does Nate, it’s almost like they have a secret bond being Army men that we as civilian parents don’t and that’s perfectly fine.

I can’t tell you how many times my OS would say to me, “I really like Colonel Kail. I’m going to talk to him about something. He’s a good guy.”

Nate getting his butter bars

So when Nate was planning graduation from West Point, the choice was easy on whom he wanted to commission him as an officer. Colonel Kail of course.

But now there was a big problem…cancer.

In March, Eric was diagnosed with stage 4 transitional cell carcinoma.

Stage 4 simply means that the cancer had spread to other parts of his body from the original source.

Although nowhere near his vital organs, Eric started chemotherapy right away. Nate was crestfallen when I told him about Colonel Kail’s illness. I remember telling him the news while he was visiting his girlfriend in El Salvador, I felt Nate needed to know right away. My OS was incredulous and heartbroken, he took it very hard.

In April, the Hubs had a business trip and arranged to stay at the Kail’s and hang out with Nate simultaneously.

Fresh off of surgery, preparing for his chemo treatments, that’s when Nate asked his mentor if he would do him the honor of swearing him in as an officer in the Army.

Without hesitation Eric said yes though we have learned that he has turned others down in the past. We waited and hoped it would be.

Colonel Kail and Nate during the oath ceremony. Um, yes, I was a little choked up. I love seeing the Hubs’ hands on my back offering support. So emotional!

And it was.

On a sultry afternoon just before a torrential rainstorm blew into the Hudson River, right outside the Cadet Chapel, Nate lifted his right hand.

With the American flag in the background, our family, Gigi, Lu and her dad gathered around as Nate repeated the oath as instructed by the highly decorated Colonel Kail.

The person Nate most wanted to perform this ceremony was there.

Yes, I was crying.

Yes, as a result I had a horrible time trying to put Nate’s “butter bars” on his uniform.

Yes, I needed my glasses.

But God had arranged this day before the fullness of time. To see my OS being sworn in by his beloved mentor was a thing of beauty. When I think about how many  pieces had to fall in place for this moment to have arrived, it astonishes me. The Lord had planned every detail and even orchestrated an “off” week for chemo treatments thereby allowing Eric to  have the enough strength to do this. We serve a mighty God indeed.

I underestimated Eric’s credentials! Wow!

I’m not sure Eric has any idea what he means to my son and how much it meant to have him perform the oath ceremony.

That’s why I’m writing this today. He deserves to hear it. So let me declare to all reading this Eric Kail has richly blessed my son!

Let me further state Eric Kail has richly blessed my son not only as a man, but as a Soldier and a brother in Christ!

And if I may, since I have the floor, let me proclaim this to the end of time We consider the Kail’s to be a gift from our Heavenly Father and are humbled to call them lifelong friends! 

Here are a few of Eric’s credentials…not too shabby. And you can read more about Eric’s leadership reflections in the Washington Post by clicking here and here.

*In addition to being my friend, an awesome dad and husband to the smoking hot Gigi, Eric Kail is a Colonel in the United States Army. He has 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.

Check out this post for a incredible story about Colonel Kail.

And update as of July 25, 2013: Our West Point grad, Nate wrote this beautiful tribute about Colonel Kail after Eric went to be with the Lord. Reading it will bless your heart.

Sorting and savoring, two graduations, 10 days apart

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Stand up and take a bow. Curtain closes on another chapter.

It’s that let-down feeling you have after everything is said and done.

Your busy plans are complete,

bags are emptied,

things are sort of back in place

and despite a moment of rest,

you are still utterly exhausted and drained.

Your company has left and life is back to normal – that is until your husband has meniscus surgery this Wednesday.

And looking at you and your sassy pink-haired self, no one would know all that’s been going on because you appear to be coping.

But the fact is you are struggling and you (in this case me) wrestle with conflicting emotions.

Clear as mud, huh?

Without getting too personal because blogs like that make me uncomfortable, this is how I’m feeling.

In some strange way, it seems as if nothing happened because so much happened and it’s just too hard to process. It’s postpartum depression minus the baby. I scarce can take it all in.

Two graduations in nine days in two different states is not for the faint of heart.

Of all the stressful things I have done in my life, having those two events so close to each other is wayyyy high up there on the things I wouldn’t choose to repeat.

Both moments were so significant and emotional, there wasn’t time to absorb one without quickly being distracted by the other.

As a result, I’m stunned.

What did we just do?

Where did we just go and come back from (and I don’t even care about the questionable grammar)?

How much money did we spend?

Why am I both full of emotion yet in empty despair?

The denouement of Aaron’s high school graduation and Nate’s graduation from the United States Military Academy needed their own proper time. Kind of like my arthritic right knee, there wasn’t and isn’t any cushion.

After a graduation celebration with some of Nate’s friends and their families, the Hubs and I were driving on Bear Mountain Bridge.

Nate and I after the graduation parade. I really loved that shining brass buckle. Very shiny.

Our tummies were full of delicious food from Foodies and it was early evening.

The United States Military Academy, an outline of the stately concrete structures were off in the distance.

The view called out to my mama’s heart.

Amber lights sparkled from the windows, the Hudson River sat tranquil and tears streamed from my eyes.

Tears are currently streaming from my eyes as I type this, thank you very much.

Cadets are still in these rooms, I thought to myself.

They are busy doing things, I mused, but strangely, my boy is no longer there.

How could that be???  His (and thusly my) 47 month journey had ended just hours before and everyone had seemingly moved on.

Ring Weekend was such a beautiful night! Now it’s all done!

Nate was ready.

I guess I was not.

As the Hubs kept his eyes on the road, I couldn’t help but reach out and grab that little West Point with my fingers.

Between my thumb and my pointer finger, I held West Point there as long as I could before we passed it by.

I can never grasp what this place has meant to my OS or to me.

I can find reasons to return to West Point but none will be for my boy as a plebe, yuk, cow or firstie.

The pangs of this reality sting and confuse.

He loved that place.

He hated it.

It was so far away.

I loved coming there.

What tumult of spirit!

No sooner had Nate graduated from USMA, then he bolted from Michie Stadium along with nearly 1000 other newly commissioned officers and finished turning in all their stuff.

There wasn’t any sentiment in the departure and it reminded me of the 90 second goodbye we had been issued on R-Day, that never to be forgotten day.

No built-in cushion there that’s for sure.

Pride, humility, loss, gain, and so much more jumble inside.

I expect to be working through these experiences and emotions for quite some time because that’s what a mama does, right?

My boy, that uniform, what memories

I’d love to hear from you if you can relate. West Point mom or not, you might empathize. Thanks for listening…

My boy, that uniform, what memories

West Point graduation touchstone moments

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Pictured here are the freckle face, orange hair ginger, the Hubs, the Officer just after we pinned the bars on his uniform, the weepy proud mama, the grandpa and the ministry-bound middle brother.

This is not a glamour shot.

We are an imperfect bunch.
But we love each other.
And when not focusing on our own personal comforts which is often difficult for most people including myself and those in my clan.
We reach deep down inside and demonstrate support and care.

And this is what my oldest OS deserved on HIS day.
Not telling Nate how exhausted and hot we were (because I do not believe there are sufficient words and he was surely tired and sweaty!)
But rather standing next to our Soldier physically, emotionally and spiritually.
As he graduated from the United States Military Academy.

It was a privilege and an honor.
And if someone would have handed me a mirror,
And lipstick,
And some haircare products,
Or offered me a shower to freshen up,

It was only after taking the picture, I realized that we were all touching each other.

You know, because an important picture was going to be taken,

I would have said no

And continued to hold my son’s hand.
Unconcerned about appearance,
Shedding tears of pride.

No other place could I have been
Then next to Nate and surrounded by those who love him most.

Making memories for a lifetime,
This perspiring, imperfect collection of people
Honored a man of integrity
Whom the Lord gave me for such a time as this
And I am richly, profoundly blessed to call him (and all those in this picture) my own.

Senior table – the final product

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Creating unconditional love on cardboard, as if that’s possible

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Creating a senior table for him was an act of love.

Wednesday night, on the eve of high school graduation, moms and dads filled the gymnasium for a shining gesture. With Herculean effort, we decorated senior tables for our offspring. I know because I was among those parents attempting, in some impossible way to contain love on a 30″ x 30″ plot of space. Talk about pressure!

For weeks I had been staging Aaron’s table at home. With two children graduating nine days apart in two different states, I had to start early to make sure it was good.

In 2008, Nate had a senior table and Aaron deserved for me to put in the same painstaking effort. In my practice sessions, sometimes I’d tape a picture in one place on the cardboard and then move it elsewhere. A few of my table prototypes were created actually in Aaron’s room so he would see them when he came home from school. I’d anticipate the moment when Aaron would enter.

Yes, I said to myself, hopefully he will not collapse upon seeing its beauty.

Truly, I speculated, he will notice how I angled the ukelele JUST so,

put the candle HERE,

Oh how I adored seeing a classmate write encouraging words to my boy, such loving messages filled these pages.

the coffee cup THERE

and the tiny bell from Ukraine on THIS spot.

And when Aaron would walk into his room, my ear would keen for the slightest gasp of wonder. If a second passed without a response, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Aaron, what do you think?” I’d beckon so desperate for his approval. Without exception Aaron showed his gratefulness. Whew. Other times, you know, just in case a friend stopped by and you never know when that just might happen, I would do the whole set-up in the dining room and dare I admit, I’d walk down the stairs several times just to get a glimpse afresh.

Senior pic taken by his aunt.

As the mama of three OS, for me with no other girl in my household, it was the equivalent of seeing a daughter in a wedding gown or a prom dress. Don’t laugh. I felt joy. The Hubs found other versions of the table in his office or in the hallway. Some family members were even blessed with text messages and pictures from me marking a new table development concept. A few were kind enough to acknowledge receipt of those pictures. Oh thank you if you indulged me! I sewed a swatch of remnant material from his books pants fabric. Aaron approved.

Then I stitched a coordinating rectangle of some extra fabric a friend had given me. Aaron liked the manly colors. He assisted my efforts by writing in gold a poem from his favorite author William Cowper and I trimmed the sides of the cardboard with pages from an old family Bible.

It wasn’t perfect but the time had come for the official unveiling. Insecure feelings never replaced the warm and wonderful sentiment I felt inside.

But I bet I wasn’t the only one who spent copious amounts of time on the child’s senior table project; based on what I saw, our collective souls were poured onto those hallowed folding tables.

We did not create altars for our children, I guess we just wanted our son or daughter and all who passed by to smile and either say, “Wow, I am loved” or “Awesome, someone thinks very highly of that kid.” If you think this post is stupid, then we probably couldn’t be friends. If you’ve read this far, you understand. Let’s have lunch.

Thursday arrived and tears flowed as we all beamed.

I had been crying throughout the day but vanity aside, I had to get a picture of me by Aaron’s table.

I gazed and cried stopping by many of Aaron’s friend’s tables. I noted with appreciation that none of these tables felt ostentatious as if they were trying to steal attention from someone else.

The body of Christ enveloped the mood. With our individual 7 1/2 square feet carefully crafted, the seniors marked the passage of time. I paused with gratitude over the families represented and prayed for their children’s future.

Have you ever done something like for a loved one? What special things would hallmark your “table”? I’d so enjoy hearing about it. May you all have opportunity for such a celebration of life.

After graduation, Aaron spent a long time reading the messages. What a thankful moment for all of us.

Questions: How do you handle the desire to be perfect with the reality that you’re not? What do you do when you feel competitive with other people and struggle with inadequacy?