Home On The Range

Our family just returned from a Dude Ranch vacation in Bandera, Tx. Cowboy hill country, to be more exact. There is something inside of me that longs for this way of life. I'm not sure if it's the simplicity and natural order of things that has my heart longing for the country pastures, or if it's just the Texas blood running deep through my veins, but whatever it is, I feel strangely at home on the range.

I love the politeness and strong, yet gentle, manner of the cowboy. I love the intoxicating aroma and warmth of the campfire that invites one "to take a load off and sit a spell." I love the sound of the clipity-clop of horses' hooves trotting on the trail. The amazing feeling of riding on one of God's greatest creatures and realizing the enormous strength and beauty of this animal. The sound of the mealtime bell clanging in the air, inviting all of us to partake in the necessary ritual of replenishing our hungry bellies. The home cooked goodness of comfort food that brings on the uncanny desire for a mid-afternoon nap in a swaying hammock. Awe...the joys of country living leaves me longing for all it's simple pleasures.

The boys seemed completely at home as they took to catfish fishing like they were born to fish...something we never do...and yet, it seemed as familiar as breathing; like they had done it a million times before. Yes, I could see my little cowboys being quite at home in God's country. The smoke from their cap guns penetrating the fresh air still lingers in my nose even now, as I think back on our trip. We created cherished memories to be filed away in the corners of our minds, and remembered in the stillness of our days.

Goodbye Dixie Dude Ranch, until we meet again. I will think of you fondly.

Run For My Life!

My middle son, Andrew, who is 6, is the comedian of the family. Most of the time, he's not trying to be funny, he just is...which is what we love about him. He's our social butterfly and never-meets-a-stranger kind of guy. He's a compassionate lover of all animals. He is unique...for a better lack of words.

Like most families, we want to instill a sense of responsibility, moral and ethical values and problem-solving capabilities in our children. We have this game that we sometimes play at dinner where we take turns choosing a card with a question, riddle or activity for us to do as a family. One particular evening, we chose a card that posed this ethical question: "What would you do, if while parking your vehicle in a parking garage, you accidentally hit the car next to you?" We decided Andrew would answer this question first. I could see the wheels turning in his 6-year old brain as he furrowed his brow and bit his bottom lip. Like any proud mom, I was anxiously awaiting a thoughtful and morally-sound answer. After all, we had taught him to be an upstanding guy who takes responsibility for his actions.

"I would...RUN FOR MY LIFE!" Andrew said emphatically. After Rod and I looked at each other in disbelief, we all started laughing. Quick to correct his judgment, we explained why and what the right answer was to this question. Being positive he had learned a valuable lesson and was now ready to answer this probing question, we asked: "Now, tell us again. What would you do?"

Without hesitating he said: "RUN FOR MY LIFE!"....like, duh, didn't you hear me the first time?

So, in ten years, if someone mysteriously bangs up your vehicle, please remember that we tried...and pray for us!

The Battle of the Sexes

People are such interesting creatures. As modern and sophisticated as one likes to assume they are in the 21st century, it all boils down to the vast innate differences between men and women. Although I fully embrace my female gender as miraculous, capable, intelligent and strong creatures, I am not a feminist (I wear too much makeup and fix my hair for that title). However, since I've been out of the work force for almost 9 years, and my companions consist mostly of other moms and little boys, I have witnessed a quirky disposition to my female foe.

It all began when my husband started taking guy trips several years ago with a group of friends he went to college with. (He is currently on a ski trip in Colorado with 8 other men.) The odd reaction I get when I tell my female friends where he is ranges anywhere from anger, resentment, accusatory to "how-are-you-going-to-get-even-with-him" type of attitude. The weird thing is, it has taken me about 10 years to figure this out. I want to thank Chris Rock for opening my eyes.

One night, when I couldn't sleep, I came across a late night cable comedy show by Chris Rock. Trying to put aside his vulgarity, I found myself drawn into his routine about the differences between men and women. It goes something like this (without the f-word):

Chris Rock: "Why is it, men, when your lady wants to go out with her friends, you are so happy for her? She comes home and says, 'Baby, we had the best time! We got our nails down and then went shopping and I got this adorable purse. Then we saw that new movie with Brad Pitt and we all cried...blah, blah, blah' and you are genuinely HAPPY for her! BUT if you go out with YOUR friends, don't you DARE come home and say you had a good time! NO, NO, NO! If she thinks you had ANY fun without HER, you can just kiss sex GOODBYE fellas! If she asks...LIE! Don't you EVER come home and say...'Oh, it was great! It was the best game I think I've ever been too...we had the best seats...it was the bottom of the 9th, all the bases were loaded and A-Rod hits it out of the park...'. No, fellas, you can't do that! You get up the next morning, thinking everything is cool; you ask your woman for breakfast and she says, 'Why don't you ask A-Rod to make your breakfast!' "

Now, of course, Chris Rock is a comedian and he gets paid an extremely large amount of money to make jokes...but it got me thinking...what he said was TRUE. Women DO have a problem with their man going out without them and having a good time. Even worse: a trip! I mean the NERVE! I have friends that have actually said to me, "Well, MY husband would never go on a trip without me." or "Well, when is YOUR girl trip?" or "When is he going to take YOU to the mountains?" It's actually quite comical because most of these women consider themselves to be feminists. Hmmmm...what does the word equality mean, ladies?

Here's the honest truth: I'm not the jealous type and I fully trust my husband. Plus, I'm not afraid of him having fun without me. I've gone on plenty of girl trips and girl dates without him, and you know what? He WAS happy for me. My whole hang-up all these years has been my own gender trying to make me feel like I should be angry, jealous or hurt. Mostly, I was just more concerned about being able to handle the kids on my own for 5 days, not that he might have a good time without me. So, here's to you, honey! If you are reading this, I hope you have a wonderful time! If anyone is deserving of a little fun and relaxation, it's you. HAVE FUN! And I promise, I won't make you suffer for it....I'll even make you breakfast! :)

Laying it Down and Running

My faith teaches me to lay down my burdens and cast my cares on Him. At times, this is the hardest part of the process for me. My flesh wants to hang onto those cares that weigh me down like an unhealthy love/hate relationship. It's a constant battle of the wills, and at times, it can be exhausting. Flesh and spirit battling each other for the win. However, ultimately, the war brings me closer to Him. During those times, I sing a beautiful song to myself, close my eyes, and picture myself running and running up, up, up this huge green mountain that takes me to the clouds.

"I hear the voice...the voice of the one I love
He's calling my name (Tyra)
He's saying...

Come up higher...hear the angles sing
Come up higher....my beloved
Come up higher...leave your cares behind
You'll find me to be beautiful...

I am running....running after You
You've become my soul's delight
I am running...running after You
Here with you I've found my life"

Tears fill my eyes and run down my cheeks. I am loved; I am cherished; I am His. His love is overwhelming, and even though I'm so undeserving, he takes that burden and lays it at His feet. I am free and light as a feather.

What an awesome God I serve! Run to Him and lay it down. You will find Him to be beautiful....

Say It Isn't So...

The annoying part of growing older, I am convinced, is the fact that a young person is still living inside my older body...taunting me! You see, the younger, slimmer and perkier version of myself is screaming to come out, but the older, fatter and tired version is trying to shut her up with a glass of wine, or a brownie, depending upon my mood. I've also discovered that denial has become my new best friend since all full-length mirrors are now banned from my view. If I can't see those dimpled thighs, then they don't exist; right? Shhh...

How did this happen? I woke up one morning and suddenly had to worry that my butt was getting too big! What? Huh? Who me? My sons are now jointly singing "I like big butts and I cannot lie" as they use my robust derriere as a bongo to keep the beat. I defend myself by proudly stating that in some cultures, big booties are considered beautiful. They laugh and laugh. Apparently, I'm funny. Meanwhile, hubby goes into hiding and pleads the 5th while my tormentors continue with their rendition of "Fat Bottom Girls Make the World Go Round." My alter-image 28-year old just smiles at those silly boys...what do they know? Humpft! "DON'T MAKE ME SIT ON YOU, YOU SKINNY WEAKLINGS!" she yells.

However, at the end of the day, when the house is silent and I'm left with my own torturous thoughts, I finally admit: perhaps my love affair with all things chocolate and gooey has finally come to an end. I am now a grown-up. I am officially...on a diet. But don't tell my alter-ego; she still thinks we look hot. Shhh....

MLK, Jr...and a 2nd grader

My son, Alex, loves Social Studies. It's his favorite subject in school, and he especially loves American History and studying about American Heroes. The Friday before the MLK, Jr. school holiday, his class watched a documentary on the Civil Rights Movement and the impact of this American Hero's influence on our history. Before Alex could even get buckled in the back seat of our van, he started telling me about the documentary and how touching it was.

"Mom" he said, "you wouldn't believe how they used to treat black people." A part of me was sad that his innocence was gone; he now knew that the world is not color blind. "It was very touching," he continued "I sort of got tears in my eyes." Our talk about racism continued as well as discussing what kind of hero MLK, Jr. was. Then he asked, "Mom, isn't it a good thing that we now have a black president?"

After a deliberate hiatus of not talking about, watching or listening to any commentary on politics, I was somewhat reluctant to go down this path. Not to mention that trying to explain the complexities of politics to an eight year seemed like such a daunting task. Our dialogue went something like this:

Me: "Yes, yes. Absolutely. It's a wonderful thing that we have a black president. However, he's actually called bi-racial. His mother was white and his father was black...but he is a man of color. A lot of black people said that they never thought they would live to see it. I am very proud that our country has come this far in being color-blind, unfortunately, he's on the wrong side of the issues."

Alex: "But you didn't want him to be president, right?"

Me: "Not because of his skin color, honey. I don't vote for someone based on their skin color or what gender they are. I disagree with many issues that he stands for, that's all."

Alex: "Like what?"

Me: "Abortion for one."

Alex: "What is that?"

Me: "It is when a woman can terminate or abort her pregnancy."

Alex: "Huh? Kill a baby?"

Me: "Well...essentially, yes."

Alex being thoughtful for a few seconds. "What is a PhD?"

Me wondering where this is going..."Uh...a doctor of education in the field that they are studying."

Alex: "Martin Luther King, Jr was a PhD. I think he liked history, like me. I checked out a different book on him at the library."

Me: "Oh, good."

Alex: "So if Obama was not for killing babies, you would like him?"

Me: "Oh, honey, it's more complicated than that. And for the record, I don't dislike him as a person, just his politics. God says to pray for our leaders and I will pray for him and hope that he chooses the right path God has for him."

Alex: "Okay. Our teacher says not to say anything bad about the president; it's disrespectful."

Me: "I agree with her; she's right. We should lift him up...but Alex, Obama and MLK, Jr are different men with different philosophies. They share similar skin colors but their views on certain issues are different. I consider MLK, Jr a hero. Obama hasn't done anything in my mind to make him a hero yet. Hopefully, he will."

Now we are home and our conversation is over. Free time before homework and reading has become his new priority. Several days later, since the kids were off from school, they watched the inaugural ceremony with me...and even though Obama and I are on different sides of the fence, I did feel proud for him that as a man of color, he made history that day. As Rick Warren prayed, I felt the Lord stirring in my spirit..."Lift him up to Me in your prayers. Pray for wisdom. Pray for guidance. Pray for strength. Pray for his protection. Pray for his precious daughters."

Today in my bible study, an amazing woman of God spoke these words: "We are a country divided on issues. Issues aren't the problem. Once Jesus becomes the priority, issues resolve themselves. Stop praying about the issues but pray that God will reveal himself to each man. Pray for salvation because that is the most important issue of all." Amen! I suppose that's what Martin Luther King, Jr., would have spoken over us as well.

A New Beginning

Welcoming in the 2009 New Year, and reflecting upon the main events of last year, I soon realized how blessed I am. As a person who tends to wallow in an endless sea of regrets and who is quite often displeased with herself, even I had to admit: I am blessed.

Why? I am not famous, nor enormously wealthy; I haven't solved any of life's major problems; I haven't accomplished even half of the things I thought I should have by now. I don't have an Olympic gold medal or a Bestselling Novel and nobody has ever asked me for my autograph (even though I perfected my signature as a preteen). My life is fairly simple and relatively drama-free...so what makes it so special or blessed? So often it's just the little things that I cherish the most. Such as: the way Aidan laughs, the smell of his little boyness as we cuddle and play match game for the millionth time. I love Alex's dimpled cheek (just one), his amazing memory and inquisitive mind, deep voice and slight lisp when he says "s". I adore Andrew's up-turned Papa-nose with a sprinkle of freckles laying across the bridge, his zest for life and his outgoing personality...he always has a "new best friend"....and his deep love for animals. I love our family dinners where we laugh and share about our day. I love the quiet stillness of the house as boys' slumber in their beds. I love kissing my husband's full lips and listening to his deep resonating voice and laugh. I love how the boys' adore him and use him as a jungle gym. I love how he makes us all feel safe and how he can fix anything! I love my morning coffee with French Vanilla cream; the way the morning sun peeks through the living room windows and casts a golden hue on the hardwood floors as I have my quiet time with God. I love that God reveals himself to me in so many little aspects as well as the big ones! I love that God cares about the little things and delites in our joy.

For all these things, I am grateful. I am blessed.