Something NOT to debate about…updated

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I’ve been driving for two days to get to Chicago. I’m exhausted and crabby. Spending two days in an SUV, I can say with great authority, everyone is talking about the debates. I can’t take it anymore. Who’s going to win? What does BHO have to say to the American public? How about WMR, what strategies must he employ to garner the country’s confidence? Blah, blah, blah.

1LT Samuel Van Kopp

As you are listening to the debates tonight (or not), I have a challenge for you. Pray for this guy. According to all sources, including my oldest OS, 1LT Samuel Van Kopp was a gifted orator.

But now this West Point ’10 grad, has been critically wounded. On September 26th, during his tour of duty in Afghanistan, a suicide bomber detonated an explosive-ladened vest. Shrapnel hit Van Kopp in the head.

Frankly, I don’t care what your personal opinions are about the war. Not today. I’m tired and don’t have the patience to argue. We probably agree on many salient points anyway. Considering I have a son who is in the Army and a cousin, an Army Chaplain who just returned from Afghanistan, I’d say my family has a lot of skin in the game. Each time I hear of another casualty or serious injury of someone serving in harm’s way, I sink literally. Part of being a West Point mom is the tragic realization that these things hit very close to home and heart and will get even closer as my 2LT and his buddies set to deploy in the near future.

When I hear of a West Point grad being killed or injured, I always ask Nate, “Do/did you know this person?” His voice is heavy and somber as he replies and sometimes sadly I must offer yet another condolence to my young olive shoot. This time when I asked about Sam, Nate said, “he was a really good debater.”

Lord, please sustain and restore this young man to full function for your glory and honor.

As I listened endlessly to BOTH sides speak about the debates, Sam came to my mind. I sprinkled in a sermon, an audio book, a few songs and a smattering of bickers with my orange hair, freckle face OS too for good measure. But I kept thinking of Sam each time I heard the word “debate.” How about if we all prayed for Sam and his family each time we hear the word “debate” in the coming days? Pray for Sam and his family. His mom is like me. She has three sons! Surgery is planned for Friday at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Md., to remove pieces of Van Kopp’s skull from his brain.

God bless you and heal you, Sam. May you feel Jesus’ presence with you at this very moment and be reminded that the God of All Comfort is your Rock, the Great Physician and your ever present help in times of trouble. Amen

For more information about 1LT Van Kopp, click here. Here’s a more current update. Praise the Lord 1LT Van Kopp is improving.

Also, if you are so inclined and have words of encouragement for Sam and his family, send them here…

Get-well cards, starbucks cards (for mom) and letters to for 1 Lt Sam Van Kopp, USMA 2010.
Walter Reed Army Medical Center
8901 Wisconsin Ave
Bethesda, MD 20889 under the address put:
1 Lt Sam Van Kopp, Building 10, Ward 4 East

When writers are moms – two fancy girls

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Check it out at momsguidetosurviving.com!

People with vision and dreams have my great admiration. I have many aspirations but feel that I miss many opportunities. I will now pause to feel badly about myself…just a sec….

Ok, all better! (sorta). When I align myself with the focussed and driven, that’s when I get inspired. Lisa Browne Joiner is someone whom I enjoy very much. She became a published author this year when she and her West Point buddy Deborah L.W. Roszel did something extraordinary in my book. They wrote a book! It’s called The Mom’s Guide to Surviving West Point.

Pretty awesome, Lisa and Debbie had a book signing at West Point!

I recently asked Lisa some questions to glean wisdom should I ever make this dream happen personally. In some very small measure, I was able to be a part of this book because I was a guest author for Chapter 26 “More than a Boo-Boo – when cadets need more than a sick call.” I shall now pause again to give you time to reflect upon my greatness…Ahem, allow me now also a moment to thank my son, Nate for tearing his ACL while at West Point for the second time in five years. Without you, Nate, it wouldn’t be possible, thanks so much Sugar Boy. Mama loves you. ❤

The only thing I wish is that Lisa and Debbie would have published this book when Nate was a new cadet and we were just starting at West Point. I would have been the first one in line and acted like a human barnacle to those ladies so it’s probably a good thing for them that it wasn’t possible. I was so desperate for understanding and reassurance. These ladies have other plans for their writing and I’m privileged to know them.

Ok, so now back to Lisa –

What made you write this book? The facebook group had been going for about 2.5-3 years…one day someone posted “someone ought to write this stuff down!” and I thought, “Yeah, someone should…hey! I could.” So I did.
How long did it take? About a year.
Why do you think no one else has written something like this before? No idea! We were the first group to really get the moms connected and talking. Prior to WP moms on facebook, the moms didn’t really have relationships outside of parent clubs.
What did you learn in the process? I learned that even though I am capable of writing a grammatically correct sentence on the first try, it isn’t necessarily a good sentence. Also, you don’t have to share everything you know. Some information is best discovered on your own…some info was left out of the book as it would cause hard feelings.
What did your son say about you writing a book? He has been very supportive from the get go.
How did you pick your co-author? I knew Debbie from our parent club. We got to know each other in fb chats. She mentioned she liked to write. We planned a beach trip and decided we’d give it a whirl and see how it went.

Lisa and Debbie

What’s next? Debbie is working on a devotional book and a children’s book. I have a few children’s book ideas. The next collaboration book will take some research, so we’re taking a breather before jumping in. The next book is The Mom’s Guide to Surviving the Naval Academy. Estimating 2 years down the road.
What kind of feedback have you received about the book? Only positive. It’s making us so happy to see so many moms say we’ve helped.
Coolest part of the process? From the get go, we felt this was a God press. I’ve always heard you know it’s time to write a book when you cannot NOT write the book…and this book basically wrote itself. We just did the editing.
Advice for moms with hopes and dreams? You don’t know what you can do til you try! Go for it!
Advice for writers who feel like they have something to share but don’t know how? You have to sit down and write. There were times I was so frustrated that we weren’t done yet…then I realized sometimes I went days and weeks without writing a word. You have to write regularly to get anything accomplished.
Who has helped you along the way? Angele and Deb were the biggest help…and the moms on the fb page who told us what they wanted to know about.
What would you do differently? In hindsight, I kind of wish we’d written a book that had each chapter by a different author/mom. That might have been cool.
Any plans for regular updates? A blog? Speaking? I would love to do speaking…would love to travel to parents’ clubs and speak to new moms who are scared…but the moms that are there know as much as I do! Debbie and I just wrote it all down.

If you are a West Point mom and don’t know about this book, I highly recommend it. Congratulations to these fine ladies for persevering and helping moms on the Long Grey Line. Click here to learn more about The Mom’s Guide to Surviving West Point.

Five Minute Friday – Grasp

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2/3 of my olive shoots live elsewhere. At 22, my oldest has graduated from West Point and is doing officer training at Fort Benning

Being the mama of a Soldier means I grasp pride – tightly

Nate in a tank. He isn’t deployed yet but he’s still in a tank.

And when he sends me pictures of him in a tank, that word grasp (and gasp) take on a whole new meaning

Jesus, hear my cries for his safety and for all those who serve

The other is 18 and a freshman at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago

He desires to be a bi-vocational pastor

This means that I grasp fear because I see how congregants can be so cruel to a pastor, how we in the pews can quickly judge, how those in leadership can go astray, become arrogant or lazy

And when he boards the train

and heads out to Kedzie each Friday

from about 3-7pm

to work with inner city boys,

he journeys to a part of Chicago where guys of his meager melanin level usually go only to score drugs and get high

That’s when that whole grasp thing is magnified for me as a mom too. Father, extend your protective hand to my/our precious child.

Taking the train in Chicago

Use Nate and Aaron today in their respective lands to do good for your kingdom.

Take their hands through the challenges they will face and the people they will encounter.

Even though they are young men, I know they will allow you and only you to grasp their hands just like I did when they were younger.

And while you’re at it, hold my hand too after all, because I’m their mom.

The coolest writing gig on Fridays! Join us! http://lisajobaker.com

Apple and memories

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Fall melange of colors

The sound you hear in the background is my dehydrator. I apologize, I know it’s loud. That’s why it’s in the dining room. Sorry about that but it’s the time of year where I seem to use it the most. I harken back to this time last September when my oldest OS was preparing for his second ACL surgery and I was busy making him healthy treats to help his recovery. Wistful, relieved and bountiful describe that time and season of life.

My house smells like apples and cinnamon. I have apple slices, apple leathers loaded in many dehydrator trays and granola filling in the remaining of the nine trays. Ike is eating his weight in granola and in the past week, I’ve also dehydrated beef jerky for a friend which I carefully kept away from my drooling, orange hair, freckle face OS.

Autumnal colors enter my home and since finding the Sherwin Williams ColorSnap app, I’m a dither with discovering possible color pallets for my home, should the opportunity ever exist.

So today I grabbed my iPhone after making a batch of granola and took pictures. With 50 pounds of old-fashioned oats, (yes, 50), I’d say I have a lot of granola to make. Throwing in some dehydrated cherries from the summer or a handful of pepitas and suddenly I feel like a fancy girl. I like fancy girl feelings.

With a hankering for another kind of crunchy, I began soaking flax seed, sesame, poppy and pumpkin seeds for a raw cracker and took more pictures. The colors were captivating and the names Sherwin Williams uses for each color, well to me they seem inspired. (Btw, I’m not a paid endorser of Sherwin Williams!).

Which one of these colors would you most welcome into your home? I’d love to hear and if you use the app, tell me what colors you discovered.


In my next post, I’ll write about pre-soaking grains. I’m learning about this concept and it’s intriguing.

Until then, here’s the recipe I use for the raw multi-seed crackers –

1 cup flax seeds, golden or brown

1/2 cup mixed seeds, for example, sesame, sunflower and pumpkin

1/2 t. sea salt

1 teaspoon smoked paprika (hot or mild) or cumin seeds or ground chili pepper or the spice/spice mix of your choice

The night before, put the flax seeds in a medium bowl and add 1 cup of water. In another bowl, put the mixed seeds and add water to cover.

In the morning, drain the mixed seeds well and add them to the soaked and now gel-like flax seeds (these need no draining). Add the salt and paprika and stir well with a fork to combine.

Spread very thinly on one or two dehydrator trays lined with solid sheets. An offset spatula, the kind you use to frost a cake – makes spreading easier. Sprinkle a touch more salt on the surface. (I don’t because they seem too salty).

Dehydrate at 110 degrees fahrenheit for about six hours until dry and crisp. About three hours into the dehydrating, flip the crackers so they will dehydrate evenly. Break into pieces once cooled.

Excalibur dehydrators are the bomb dignity. http://www.excaliburdehydrator.com/

One more thing, Excalibur is having 10% off until 9/30/2012, check it out!  Shawn, tell the Hubs if he loves you, he’ll get you one of these too!

An American mom wonders about voting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Respectful thoughts most welcome…

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.

Ponderings from a three year old about 9/11

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

A sweet little boy with very real questions

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

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

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

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

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

So how does a mother answer that question?

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

Three sugar boys a long, long time ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five Minute Friday – celebration time, come on!

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As much as I miss the high-pitched voices of my OS when they were little –

As much as I cling to those chubby snuggles and hilarious toddler sayings,

I’ve got to say, there are things about this stage of life that have perks!

“Woo hoo! Gonna take my beautiful sweetheart out for a date night!”

I got a text from our oldest OS on our 25th anniversary. A $100 gift certificate to Ruth’s Chris was on its way!

He and his brothers had pitched in to make this possible

When I was a kid, I remember celebrating my parents’ wedding anniversary but my OS haven’t done this before.

2/3 of my OS even publicly acknowledged our special day on their facebook pages and it sincerely made me happy.

Because it’s not like we made 25 years easily.

In the past, we threw the “L” word and the “D” word with regularity. When my oldest OS was a toddler, we took him with us to the marriage counselor.

He played with a little toy on the floor as the Hubs and I sat on separate couches. We were at impasse. Would we stay together or would we go our separate ways? As we celebrate this hallmark anniversary, I can still see that toe-headed fella on the carpet. He is now an Army officer.

I began reading the card and then Ike took it from my hands and said he wanted to read it out loud to me. ❤

So as the orange hair, freckle face OS stood in front of me (the Hubs had to go to DC to attend to a speeding ticket (!) he got on the way home from Nate’s graduation from West Point), Ike presented me with a homemade anniversary card.

It’s unlikely Ike will be a great artist in the future but we love him anyway. I love these goofy cards and I really, really hope I don’t look like this in real life!

Funny how his drawings look kinda like Tess the Guinea Pig Girl dolls

Here’s what he said,

“Dear Mom and Dad,

Thank you for setting a wonderful example for us on what a faithful marriage is. Raising 3 great children and the last one possibly being the great is not easy to do.   You have shown us what leadership and sacrifice is and have blessed us by walking beside us in our Christian walks. We love you and thank you for the love you have given us. 

Isaac, Nate and Aaron 

PS. Thanks for making us”

Ike has always been such a funny guy!

Ike’s drawings look quite similar to my Tess the Guinea Pig Girl doll collection, don’t you think? Not sure what to do with that!

Jesus alone has salvaged the Hubs and me. Individually, the Lord has also redeemed my children’s lives when they repented of their sins and asked Christ into their hearts. Aaron and Ike exist today because of the mighty work Christ has done in this really human family.

My OS know our story and they see our flaws on a daily basis. And they celebrated our marriage anyway. I’m looking forward to a festive date night.

Here’s the link if you want to see more of the Guinea Pig Girl doll collection!

Appreciating Nate

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Sandwiched between a Soldier and an orange hair, freckle face OS = pre-sushi joy

My Soldier came home for the weekend. To find him fast asleep in his bed Saturday morning felt like a bowl of slightly melted, premium vanilla ice cream with warm butterscotch and multi-colored sprinkles on top.

We ate sushi at our favorite place and stuffed our faces.

Oh my, Nate is a funny fellow.

And he encounters so many characters, there’s never a dull moment. I honestly think if the whole Army officer thing doesn’t pan out or the West Point degree with a major in comparative politics amounts to nothing, my oldest OS could hit the comedy scene with his own schtick. And his material would all be true, no exaggeration necessary. While at dinner, Nate demonstrated how his pastor, a WP grad himself, is a BIG fan of gestures. Basically every sentence is punctuated with a dramatic bodily motion. I thought a piece of rice was going to fly out of my nose!

We promised Nate we would eat here if he drove nine hours to come home = totally worth it!

My oldest OS’s stories about sunflower seeds are equal parts disgusting and delightful. I’ve been hearing sunflower seed stories for years now. It’s a smart Soldier’s alternative to chew or cigarettes.

These two people had no idea how the Lord was going to change and bless them. Three olive shoots and almost exactly 25 years later, we are still a work in progress but rejoice over what Jesus has done in our lives.

Before we ate dinner, Nate got our family’s attention and offered a toast. The Hubs and I will be married 25 years on Wednesday. The toast and acknowledgement of our pending celebration were just more signs that our OS is a man.

But you know what is really cool? He still lets me call him “Baby.” Not gf “Baby” but mom-speak “Baby.” He allows me (sometimes) to place my head on his broad back and just be near him. When I grab his biceps, which seem to get more muscular each time I see him, he flexes for added bravado. He is patient with my shenanigans too. In other words, he lets me be his mama. He’s not too cool, well-traveled, intellectual or strong to still grant his mother a moment to remember, savor and appreciate.

The car drove away this morning, too soon. A weepy mom stood on the driveway, her heart full of love and thanksgiving which btw, will probably be the next time we see him. Thanks Baby for letting me scoop up more memories. Until next time,

Diving into transition

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Old school pic of my Moody Bible boy

With only one OS now at home, as long as I don’t think too much about it, I’m ok. Those moments when I go “there,” I start to panic. Having Aaron far away in Chicago can overwhelm me. It’s like when I was jumping into the deep end of the pool last summer. If I ran quickly off the diving board and just let gravity do the rest,  I was ok. But the minute I paused, my toes gripped the edge of the board. I contemplated the depth of the water, the possibility of death, the certainty that I looked completely stupid and that’s when I became frozen with fear.

In a similar position, I must put one foot in front of the other and dive into this new season of life. I must sell soap nuts, write, sew, serve Jesus and others. Not in a bathing suit though!

Today was the first Sunday at church without Aaron sitting beside me. A few people sweetly asked me how I was doing and I truly appreciated their kindness. I marveled at my ability to not burst into tears which is not something I usually do.

And I found a way to have all my OS by my side. Here was my strategy.

That orange hair, freckle face kid in the black shirt blessed me today.

1. I sat next to Ike and we didn’t fuss at each other as we are sometimes apt to do. Oh how I loved that my orange hair, freckle face OS let me hold his hand frequently and spontaneously. He also enjoys pretending to crack an egg on my head and knee and that was welcome affection even if it’s weird. And when Ike was needing a break from me, the Hubs let me curl up beside him.

One of my favorite pieces of jewelry for obvious reasons!

2. I wore my West Point necklace which was specially made by another WP mom. It’s custom designed and is so dear to me. One of my charms has a favorite picture of my boy when he was a little toe-headed guy chest puffed up holding a plastic knife in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. I instantly felt close to Nate who’s in officer training at Fort Benning, Georgia. Click here for info about this wonderful jewelry! I’m going to order more charms so I have all my OS nearby!

3. When it was time to sing, the rest of the congregation made a joyful noise reading the worship songs on the screen. I, however, took out the hymnal my OS compiled and sang using it. I choked back a few tears and clutched the hymnal to my heart. Aaron’s spirit felt nearby.

“How blessed are the feet of those who bring good news.” Romans 10:15 My boy, my hymnal ❤

With one Sunday down and facing my first week without Aaron, I press on and am thankful for any effective coping techniques I can find! If you have any, please share! I know I’m not alone!