To Be a Mommy

(Article written for the MOPS of North Wake October 2010 newsletter)

“Mom, what does it feel like to be a mommy?” Four-year old Sarah sincerely looked up at me. Holding her chubby little fingers in one hand and five-year old Candace’s hand in my other hand as we walked along, tears welled up unexpectedly in my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

How does a mom answer a question like that? In a way that a four-year old can understand? As the current cliché goes, my heart was full in that moment.

Could I possibly explain how I often feel like my children are connected to my very soul? Could I convey the depth of my love, so deep that I can’t even seem to comprehend the complexity of it? It’s a love that truly knows no boundaries.

Would she understand that my life is no longer my own and that I’m thoroughly thrilled about that? I have lovingly laid my life subserviently but willingly on the altar of motherhood. Unless she comprehends that half of the equation, then she won’t understand my occurrences of selfishly grabbing the sacrificed life back before once again laying it down.

How will I expound emotions and feelings that are at opposite ends of the spectrum? Overjoyed one minute, then stressed and facing feelings of incompetence the next.

The only answer I had for Sarah that day as I looked down at her and smiled: “It’s the most wonderful feeling I’ve ever known.” It was an honest answer. And a short answer. It was enough for a four year old.

All of you who are mothers will understand my dilemma in that moment and my inadequate response. There is just no utterance that will encapsulate how it feels to be a mommy.

The only way you truly know how it feels to be a mommy is to….well…..be a mommy. Sarah is now married and due to give birth to her first child, my first grandchild, in January. (He’s a boy.)

Wait a minute! Didn’t I just say she was four? Oh, yeah, that was yesterday. Today she is just weeks away from finding the answer to her question.

She will get to experience MOPS in a way that she couldn’t when she was a preschooler in MOPPETS in 1994 or as a helper in the classes for many years thereafter.

She will know fully what Momology is, and with simply a smile between you and her, the common bond of motherhood ensures that you will completely get each other.
She will find that being a mommy gives her an instant community, especially in a MOPS group where the binding of mothering leaves little room for our differences to come between us.

I’m so excited for all you who are joining us this MOPS year, just as I’m excited for Sarah. You’ll make friends so you won’t have to journey the mothering path alone. You will encourage each other. You will challenge each other.

You’ll hear speakers who will teach you more about the practical aspects of your path as well as pointing you to spiritual hope and purpose.

As for Sarah, she will finally know what all moms at MOPS already know. She will know, just like you know, the unspeakable joy, the incomprehensible love, the experiences that cannot be conveyed with mere words. She will know, just like you know, just like I know, exactly what it feels like to be a mommy.

Where Dreams Come True

A real vacation! Not the kind where the family tags along on a business trip. My husband finally got to take a real vacation! We decided on Disney World, Where Dreams Come True, the sister park to Disneyland, The Happiest Place on Earth.

We had a delightful week in May visiting all the parks. Scoring the Disney dining plan for free was quite the bonus! All seemed right with the world.

Until he got the email on Thursday night. That email…the one from his office that announced his department was being dissolved and that there would be layoffs. Since my husband was the head of his department, and had not been privy to the planning of this development, he knew right away what that meant.

Enjoying our last day at Disney was a goal that seemed easy at times, elusive at others. (But did I mention the dining plan? Two meals plus two snacks per person provided each day, just for the ordering. I don’t think we’ll ever go to Disney again without it. The Strawberry Shortcake Sundae at Mrs. Pott’s Cupboard went a long way towards alleviating anxiety.)

Questions, though, were at the forefront of our minds. Kind of important questions like: When will this change take effect? When will we get the last paycheck? What other opportunities are available at this stage of life? Will we need to move for work? Are there any other expenses we can cut?

We had to wait until the following week when we returned to NC to find out some of the answers. Walk faster….Mrs. Pott’s Cupboard is just around the corner.

There were some questions, however, to which we unequivocally knew the answers: Do we still love each other? Is our family healthy and together? Do we have a supportive network of friends and family? Do we have freedom to make choices for the good of our family? Is God still God?

So much unknown loomed before us, but so much of the known was looming larger.

These were not exactly the dreams we were hoping would come true when we mapped our life’s journey. Our plan was much more stable and predictable, and would give us a measure of security.

Now we don’t have that. Fortunately, another job offer has been received, and although it is in the same general field, it is an entirely different type of job. It’s a job that may not provide the consistency we’re accustomed to having, and it might not have a predictable and steady income. It might not give us security we crave.

But….we live in America! We live in a country where dreams come true.
We have options. They might not always be ones we like, but there are options that we have the freedom to choose nonetheless.

Sometimes those options look like an explosion to rock our little world. Sometimes, though, the option is a blessing in disguise where the potential is enormous.

Will this be an option where dreams come true? It’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. We have been blessed beyond that which we deserve and our dreams for the things that really matter have already been realized.


Philippians 4.19

And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

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But How Will I Live?

“Mom, how will I die?” Joshua, then barely five years old, asked as I was tucking him into bed. With all the honesty and confidence a startled mom could muster, I replied, “I don’t know.”

(Before you are concerned about one so young worrying about dying, just know that our family had recently held death in our hands so it was heavy on his mind.)





Snuggling even closer and not wanting to leave it at that, especially at bedtime, I continued the conversation. “You know, Josh, there’s no way you can really know how you’re going to die, but there is something more important about life that you can decide. You get to choose how you will live.”

I went on to explain how none of us usually have the choice about how we die, but the choice about how we will live is completely ours.

Will I live my life for fun and pleasure, for that which seemingly brings me a measure of happiness? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’d rather sit and watch Survivor than do anything productive.

Sometimes I’d rather sit and stare out the window watching the chickens (now doesn’t that sound quaint) than do the work that is on my kitchen counter. Yes, sometimes I’m lazy.

Sometimes I ignore issues with my kids because addressing those things will require time and thought (and prayer!) on my part. Sometimes I pay the consequences of that choice.

Sometimes I’d rather stay at home all day, avoiding any meaningful interactions with people outside my family. Relationships with other people can get pretty messy. Sometimes.

Most of the time, though, I remember that I live my life for a higher purpose, a purpose given to me by God. So most of the time, I will push through the tedious tasks on my schedule for the day, because I choose to have joy in serving my family.

Most of the time I will realize that I’ve been watching the chickens too long and go do the dishes and even cook for my family.

Most of the time I will stop whatever I am doing to instruct or encourage one of my children. Most of the time I reap the benefits of that choice.

Most of the time I will choose to intentionally invest in the lives of others, to volunteer, to get involved with society in general, even if it gets messy. Most of the time I’m the one who is more blessed by that investment.

Death - be it by water, fire, cancer, car accident, crime victim, whatever - it’s not really up to me. But how will I live? How will you live? That is completely a choice each of us will make for ourselves.


Galatians 2.20 I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.




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Does Anyone Know?

(A guest post for the blog at Re:Vision North Carolina)


Walking through my local big box store, I see the United States flag all around. Is it really “what so proudly we hailed” if it’s in the form of a bikini top or swim trunks? At $5, I did have to buy my son some swim trunks. I figured they were colorful and I could easily spot him in the crowd. Seeing all the flag paraphernalia, though, made me wonder.




Does anyone know what is significant about June 14? Anyone? Anyone? Ok, well, it’s not usually a day off work or anything, but it is one of the observances I learned about as a kid. It’s Flag Day!

I remember spending significant time in elementary social studies (a few weeks is significant time in elementary school) learning about the flag: appropriate handling, appropriate display, appropriate storage, and appropriate disposal. Education about the flag included the history and a few legends.

One particular legendary quote remains somehow tucked in the crevices of my grey matter. From the poem Barbara Frietchie by John Greenleaf Whittier:

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said.

Purportedly, 96 year old Barbara Frietchie boldly said those words to Stonewall Jackson after proudly displaying the flag from her attic window and Jackson’s Confederate troops had just shot the banner at his command. At risk of her own life, Frietchie would not allow disrespect of the Union flag!

It used to be that wearing the flag on items such as those I saw at the store would be considered disrespect and desecration. There’s still a little, a very little, debate about the appropriateness of wearing the flag. I can remember when I was a teen in the 70’s that a young man was arrested for wearing a shirt made from flag fabric.

Apparently, societal shifts have brought social acceptance to wearing flag apparel. Covering oneself in the Stars and Stripes is now viewed as patriotic rather than disrespectful. T-shirts with the American flag would make me feel well-dressed at July 4th activities (and on Flag Day for that matter!)

But does anyone know the Standards of Respect due the American Flag?

Some instruction in the etiquette of the American flag, according to www.usaflag.org:

The flag should never be dipped to any person or thing. It is flown upside down only as a distress signal.

When the flag is lowered, no part of it should touch the ground or any other object; it should be received by waiting hands and arms.
To store the flag it should be folded neatly and ceremoniously.

The flag of the United States of America should be at the center and at the highest point of the group when a number of flags of states, localities, or societies are grouped for display.

When used to cover a casket, the flag should be placed with the union at the head and over the left shoulder. It should not be lowered into the grave.

I don’t remember all the Standards of Respect from my social studies class, but I did remember today is Flag Day. So, tell someone you know that today is Flag Day. Your friends just might not know.


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Check Point

Instinctively I hit the brakes! The next step was to look at my speedometer. Whew! I’m not speeding….this time. Really I’m not speeding most of the time. Well, not too much….you know, the “too much” where you cross the “absolute” line that will get you a ticket. What is that line, something like four miles over the speed limit? (Don’t tell me if it’s more....I’ll stick with four.)

I love policemen, especially since I have friends who are policemen, so why do I have the same reaction every time I see a police car when I’m driving?

Instead of getting nervous, though, I need to remember that the police car sitting in the median is more of a reminder for me. And since all people need reminders from time to time, the goal is accomplished merely by the policeman’s presence. See the police car, check my speed. Good to go.

Seeing the policeman the other day made me wonder about other check points I might have or might need in my life.

That’s why I have a daily time reading my Bible. That’s my spiritual check point. I am a forgetful woman. It could have something to do with having kids….I can’t remember. Daily reading is a great check point for me to check my speed, check my direction, check to see if I’m still on the right road.

Deuteronomy 8.11 Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day.


I also think I need a civic check point. I can tell you the last time I read through the United States Constitution. That would have been September of 2006 when one of my older daughters, Sarah, then a junior in high school, audited an American Government class at a local college. She needed help analyzing the Constitution the first week, so we dissected it together.

But I am forgetful. I think I could quote the preamble (thank you Schoolhouse Rock!) but I only remember a couple of the “famous” amendments from the rest of the document. It’s not that I don’t care. Like I said, I’m forgetful. And busy.

How else, though, am I going to know if and why I agree or disagree with politicians’ actions? How will I know to be concerned about their actions? How will I know when we as a state or nation have crossed the line? Or when I as an individual have crossed the line?

Reviewing our governing documents would serve us all well. I just showed my younger children the Schoolhouse Rock Preamble on YouTube. I will also go to the Tools link on the Re:Vision North Carolina website to review our founding documents for myself and do a better job of passing that information on to my kids.

I want to set up my own check point, and not wait until I see a reminder waiting in the median.



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A Few Steps

As a somewhat bright, but very timid second-grader, I sat firmly glued to my seat. Having already figured out the riddle, I jittered inside at the thought of approaching Mrs. Miller’s desk to tell her the answer. The answer….which would come with the benefit of a special surprise. The answer….I knew it….all I had to do was take a few steps.

Hesitation. For what seemed like an hour. Then none of it mattered anymore. Sweet little blonde haired Kim went forward and whispered the answer to the teacher. I watched, disappointed in myself, as Mrs. Miller gave Kim the nickel.

Don’t laugh. Back in 1969, five cents bought a full-sized candy bar from the snack cart! And that was a rare treat for a little girl who lived up the “holler.” Taking those few small steps would have made a difference, if only in a small way in my life for that day, but still a difference. That small loss that day taught me a monumental lesson.

Fast forward to 2010. I’m still (debatably) somewhat bright. I am still a little timid, but nothing like the paralyzing shyness in second grade. I might get jittery if I was asked to approach someone in a higher position. But now I know that if I don’t act, I will lose the candy bar.

It was just a couple of months ago that my husband, Mike, and I were having a conversation lamenting the state of politics in general in our country. We think of ourselves as politically informed, but we haven’t been politically active for a long time.

During that discussion, we each decided that even though we don’t know what we can do, we need to do something, take a step or two, however small, to make a difference.

Will it be a phone call? Will it be a knock on a door? Will it be a financial investment? Will it be consistent prayer for those who govern? Will it be some out-of-the-box action? Will it be….? I don’t know which direction my steps will take, but I do know I will take a step.

I’ll walk to the teacher’s desk and share the answer. I’ll seek direction from God, because I don’t want to take a step in any direction which He does not lead.

Psalm 119.05 Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.

After all, it’s not a candy bar at stake this time. And the prize won’t be just for myself. It’s our country that needs involved citizens. My children and grandchildren will benefit from my efforts.

That five cent candy bar I missed out on in second grade now costs 99 cents and I’d probably be bold in going for it, but America is way more valuable, definitely worth me taking a few small steps.

(This is the first in a series that will be posted on the blog at the website Re:Vision North Carolina)


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Thank You for the Snow! Really?

Walking and praying this morning in the blizzard (or it might have been flurries....hard to tell the difference at this point,) I joined the symphony (well, maybe cacophony) of grumbling people who are tired of cold and snow. My attitude when I stepped out the door was, "Uugghh! I'm so ready for some sunshine and warmth!"

Usually my prayer walk is my time to pour out my heart to God. Then I come back to my house and read His Word to listen to Him speak to me. But since I have learned to be open to God speaking whenever He chooses, I was also listening. Good thing, too, or I might have missed what He was saying during my walk.

"Thank Me for the snow." I think I giggled out loud. At least He wasn't telling me that I'm going to be pregnant when I'm almost 50, truly something I would want to thank Him for. "Thank me for the snow." OK, God, you don't have to tell me twice....well, then again, obviously He does.

"Thank You for the snow," I said aloud. (Actually all my prayers when I am walking are said aloud....keeps me focused.) My giggles waned, but a huge smile jumped on board.

I'm smiling because I'm hearing His voice. It doesn't matter that He's asking something I don't particularly feel like doing. I don't want to be like the kid who thinks, "You can make me say it, but you can't make me mean it."

I want to thank Him gladly because I love my Father and I am thankful that He cares enough about me to speak to me, to refine me. He cares enough to ask me to be thankful for the snow and the sunshine, the births and the deaths, the good times and the hard times, in plenty and in want.


I Thes. 5.16-18 Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Thank you, God, for the snow. Really!

January Comes

Long, frigid nights dissolve into gray days. Seemingly lifeless, ebony trees etch a silhouette against the ashen sky while icy air hopelessly struggles to move that which won’t budge. Sparse and brown, the frozen grass crunches to the breaking point as the heavy boots descend time and again. The outlook is bleak. January comes and is here to stay.

My contribution to my descriptive essay assignment to my students lets them know I can still do homework too. (They will get to evaluate it and find my mistakes.) A description of this season and my surroundings, but definitely not where my heart camps out.

My joy is not predicated upon nor negated by my circumstances or surroundings. My joy comes from That which is within.

1 Chronicles 16.27b says it well: Strength and joy are in His dwelling place.

And where is His dwelling place? In me! So there is where my joy originates. My circumstances may at times seem bleak and hope may seemingly be lifeless, but like a pocketful of water, my joy will not be contained.

January may come and January may stay, but the joy of the Lord is everlasting.

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Only If It's a Special Day

Aaron Shust was in concert in Raleigh at a church that holds only about 500 people. I'm not much of a concert goer, but I knew two of my daughters would be thrilled to attend. I didn't realize that I knew so many of his songs! Worshipful was the adjective of the night.

Just before intermission, Aaron (we're familiar like that now) and Chris Sligh (from American Idol) began a “commercial” for Compassion International. They asked all who were interested in “just checking out” a child to raise a hand. I didn't raise my hand. But I sat beside my 22 year old Candace who did raise her hand.

Why was she raising her hand? She is in fundraising mode herself, headed for a six month stint with YWAM. And even though one of my spiritual gifts is giving, compassion has long been near the bottom of my list. Kind of ironic, huh?

The ushers gave Candace a packet with the child's picture, birthdate, country and a summary of the personality of the child. She's sitting right beside me, but I am not going to look at that photo. “Oh, look mom, he's so cute. His name is Samuel.” No, not looking, won't look. I know what will happen if I look. I have to stay strong.

“Oh mom. You have to look at this.”

“You can look at it and tell me about it,” I reply.

“Oh, he's soooo cute!” She puts the packet in my lap.

Oops, I looked.

Melting.... Melting.... Faster than the Wicked Witch of the West!



He was so cute. But not as cute as I am strong. But then there's a tug. I knew I shouldn't have looked.

“OK God,” I thought to myself, “if his birthdate is a special date, if it has significance, then I'll know you want us to sponsor him.” I threw out my fleece.

I looked at his birthdate: September 13, 2000. Not much significance about that date. Candace's birthday is September 3rd and Rachael's is September 26th so it was kind of in the middle, but nothing special...really.

Tug. He is so cute. Tug. Oh, he's from Kenya. Tug. He's only 9 years old, about the same age as Joshua. Tug. He lives with his mom and two siblings. Tug. He eats mainly beans, rice and potatoes. Tug....

I couldn't take it anymore. OK God, his birthday has no significance but I can hear you loud and clear. We'll sponsor him!



It made me remember that Gideon used the fleece because he didn't have the Holy Spirit to guide him. I didn't have to wait overnight to find out if the fleece was wet and the ground was dry or if the fleece was dry and the ground was wet. God had spoken directly to my heart. I knew I had to obey.

Candace and Rachael of course were thrilled when I started filling out the paperwork. They couldn't wait to get home and tell Joshua about this new little guy in our prayers and in our lives.

Feeling renewed in so many ways, from the music to the sponsorship, the concert ended and we began walking out.

Rachael, who had been a few seats away from us and hadn't gotten to see the full packet yet, was perusing the information. All of a sudden, with much enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Hey look! September 13, 2000....today is Samuel's birthday!” Yes, the concert was September 13th.

Tears were in my eyes.....a day of significance, a very special day indeed!

John 14.26 But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.


Thank you God for the Holy Spirit! (And He's probably telling you to go back to the beginning of this post and click on Compassion International....I dare you....it could be a special day!)

Looks Like We Get to Keep the Change

May as well embrace change. That's seems to be the only constant.

The next change at our house: Candace is leaving in six days (Sept. 24) continuing on a spiritual journey of a lifetime. She'll be attending University of the Nations for a YWAM DTS (Youth With A Mission Discipleship Training School.)

Study will begin in Kona, Hawaii. Not a bad stop on a spiritual journey :-) She'll be there for 12 weeks for intensive Bible and missions instruction, as well as working in some capacity on campus.

Then she'll be headed to Capetown, South Africa for 12 weeks of on-the-job training with a Community Transformations ministry of YWAM, working and serving those in the community.

(In case your math is a little rusty, that's nearly six months away from home. Yes, it means she won't be here for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years or any family celebrations.)




Seasons come and go, things keep changing. But there is a Constant, and I'm so glad, because I will need that as the change keeps coming!

Hebrews 13. 8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

All-Consuming

My summer has been spent neck-deep in wedding preparations. So many things to look at. So many errands to run. So many decisions to make. The preparations for the Wedding Day were all-consuming!

I awoke most mornings between 5.30 am and 6.00 am without an alarm clock, eyes wide open, mind racing, feet jumping out of bed ready to get started with my day.

Invitations to send out….

Eight bridesmaids dresses to make….

Flowergirl dress....

Tiniest details to attend to…..

Flowers to pick out…..

Menu to plan….

Bride is ready and waiting...

A brain that wouldn’t slow down…..until….

Until I realized that because of my new routine I was glossing over my time with God!

Whoa, Nellie!

False start!

Try again!

I started getting up, still just as early, but went outside for a walk to get a chance to talk with Jesus before I started my day. I came back in, went to my Bible, my message from God and He was faithful to tell me something I needed to hear that day. (The Psalms are great therapy!)

All the hard work for the Wedding Day was worth it! Sarah and Tony were very happy. The day was filled with much joy. Can’t you tell by their faces?

But the process made me think about my preparations for THE Wedding Day, you know, when Jesus comes back for us, His bride. Are the preparations I’m making for that eternal union all-consuming just as they were for the earthly wedding we had just had?

Am I inviting others to join me for that great celebration? Am I encouraging those who are attending the Great Wedding to be “better dressed” for the occasion? Am I checking the details of my heart? Is my mind stayed on Him?

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
"Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear."
(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints.)
(Revelation 19.6-8)

I pray your preparations are all-consuming!


To see all wedding photos, go here.

Backwards Feet in a Bathroom Stall

So I was in a huge hurry with many errands to run. Stood in the long line to return things at WalMart, then parked my cart by the benches outside the public restrooms and zipped in, heading as I always do to the last stall.

Aaah, two glasses of sweet-and-low tea for lunch didn't bother me anymore. The bathroom was empty as I entered, but as I was occupying the last stall, someone came in to the stall next to me.

Weird. Just weird. Big old scrungy blue Converses, dirty and ragged, must have been size 13 and a half! Dirty raggedy jeans bottoms too. But the weirdest part is that the feet were backwards, you know, facing the porcelain bowl. As in standing up to pee....

First thought: Oh my goodness, what kind of weirdo (I actually thought "pervert") is in the stall next to me? I got a little nervous.

Then I got a lot nervous.....as if it were slow motion, it dawned on me that the shoes in the stall next to me were not filled by a weirdo. MY shoes were the ones filled with a weirdo. Yes, I was in the men's bathroom, and I was not alone! (No, I don't have any photos to post.)

How do I exit gracefully? Well, I don't. I come racing out of the stall with my hands serving as blinders on my downward-looking eyes, announcing loudly as there was now more than one other person joining me, "Sorry everybody, I came into the wrong bathroom!"

Loud laughter ensued, but I kept walking briskly. No I did not stop to wash my hands. I exited and immediately made a left turn to go to the women's restroom where I thoroughly washed my hands which were jittering like a drop of water in a skillet.

It's funny the things God uses to speak to me. I suspect He would speak to me in all things if I would listen more.

But this time, He highlighted my critical spirit. Fascinating how I immediately thought the other person was in the wrong, because it certainly couldn't be me. Thinking that I was wrong would be the farthest thing from my mind. Just like my everyday life.

Luke 6.42 How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

Two things I'm thankful for: 1) I used the liner on the toilet seat. 2) God will speak to me even when (especially when?) I'm in the wrong place.

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