Strawberry Pancakes

So many wonderful events have taken place since I last wrote. I attended Ronald's graduation from high school in Tampa, I picked out new appliances for our kitchen, I've been fishing and boating at my in-laws' lake house and, of course, I celebrated a marvelous Mother's Day.

Since Alex is an early riser, he was the first boy to greet me and wish me a fabulous day...and to my delight, surprise me with breakfast in bed! Even though I would have preferred to sleep in a little, he decided that 6:30 would be just the right time to surprise me with strawberry pancakes and orange juice! He even put the cards he and his cohorts had made on the tray for me to read at my leisure. What a sweetie! I think he might make a good husband someday....or a good chef at Denny's...you never know.

The cards are my favorite because they always make me laugh. According to Andrew, my favorite thing to do is blog and sleep, and Alex graciously commented on my youthful 29 years of age, while Aidan made me a blue hand print and drew a likeness of me sans the neck. Rod sent me roses from he and the boys...but Andrew insisted he knew nothing about it...and asked if I had a boyfriend. He was really confused when I told him it was daddy. We had brunch at our favorite kid-friendly restaurant with our mothers and laughed and shared our day together. It was perfect. What a privilege it is to be a mother; I hope I never take it for granted.

Of course, summer is fast approaching and I'll have to re-read this blog to remind myself that motherhood really is a blessing and not a curse. When I feel my nerves being frazzled to the core, I'll have to repeat my new mantra: "Strawberry pancakes. Strawberry pancakes. Strawberry pancakes." I will either gain 10 pounds or be a much sweeter and gentler mom...time will only tell.

If I Can Make It Here...I Can Make It Anywhere!

I just returned from the city that never sleeps, and as it turns out, neither did I. A whirlwind of a trip with my 3 traveling companions, childhood friends that I reconnected with on Face Book, has left my body feeling much older than it's 40 years. I have never been so jetlagged...hmmmmm....the swine flu, perhaps? But I digress.... Anyway, it was a trip full of laughter; especially in the wee hours of the night, which was so good for the soul (but not my bladder). If you've had children, you understand; right? It was also a trip of sadness as we comforted our friend whose father unexpectedly passed away the night we arrived in NY. It was a trip of reconnection and nostalgia and funny stories. A trip that will always hold cherished memories, inside jokes (What's that smell? It's New Jersey and Those aren't your abs!) and life-changing events. It was a chance to be young, carefree and silly again!

Yes, after 4 busy, fun-filled days and 3 sleepless nights, I can honestly say..."If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere!" Thanks, girls for inviting me! I had the time of my life. When is our next trip?

Experience Beauty

These past few days in Texas have been unusually beautiful. It is the kind of weather where one just wants to bask in the glorious sunshine, fill the lungs with fresh air and smile. The earth is bursting with delicate flowers from seeds planted month's ago. It's as if God is granting us a tiny glimpse of His paradise; not just on occasional Spring days, but every day, forever and ever...and ever! How gracious and merciful is He that even among the thorns, a perfect rose blooms. I know I couldn't bear life's cruel hardness without the beauty to keep me going. I want to be thankful for these simple, yet miraculous, pleasures of life. I want to be still and experience beauty. Really experience it.

I'm reminded of Romans 8:28: "All things work together for good for those who love the Lord." Even during the cruelness and unfairness of life, ALL things work together for good. I love that! Believers aren't immune to hard times, yet we have the comforting assurance that God is walking with us through the storm. He will work it ALL out for good...if not only to glorify Him, because, after all, He placed the roses among the thorns.

To friends battling cancer: The war you are facing is heavy. Don't grow weary but praise Him for what is yet to come. Put on your spiritual armour and fight knowing His blood is covering you.

To a single mom whose husband is in prison: Lean on His strength to carry you through this difficult season. Cry on His shoulder, then wipe away your tears and stand on the truth of His promises.

To all the Americans who have lost their jobs: Strip away your pride until your heart is naked before Him. Do not worry about tomorrow but cast your cares on Him. He is the Master of your finances.

To loved-one's suffering from depression: Open your weary eyes and search for Him. He is there, crying with you and washing your feet. Take His hand and walk beside the Prince of Peace....for His burden is light and His yoke is easy. Share this love with another, and your pain will be gone.

To anyone who is reading this: Experience the beauty He has graciously, lovingly and thoughtfully given you. You are loved. Bask in that knowledge.

Healing

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Rod had knee surgery on Tuesday, (remember the ski trip?...yeah, torn ACL on the first day) and watching him go through the process of recovery made me realize that healing wounds (emotional or physical) become the hardest part of the journey. After three C-sections and a very painful tummy-tuck in less than a decade, I am no stranger to the agonizing, frustrating and slow process of healing. Although brutal at the time, the mind somehow forgets the pain; the body heals and scars fade. Ironically, physical pain, once gone, is easy to forget...but emotional pain somehow lingers and can, if not dealt with, grow even more caustic. Wounds of the heart penetrate deeper. Perhaps this is why God tells us to guard our hearts; He knows the consequences are costly.

Watching my husband get prepped for surgery took me back all those years ago when my own father, at age 42, was about to become the first heart transplant recipient in the state of Florida. The hospital was buzzing with excitement, fear, ambivalence (there were protesters outside chanting ignorance) and the media was alert and ready to record it all. At 16, and too immature to really understand the enormity of it all, I felt more like a spectator than a participant....like somehow, it wasn't real and I would wake up from a dream. I can only imagine how my father felt. He was only 42 and this was his only hope for survival. WOW! That age, at the time, didn't seem so young...but now, it seems devastatingly so.

Without my Jesus, I don't know how a person could get through it...and he wasn't a believer! However, the most precious moment I had with my father was right before he went into the operating room. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I took my father's hand, bent down close to his ear, and asked him to recite a prayer of salvation. Looking back, he was heavily sedated and probably had no idea what he was even saying, but for a young, scared girl, I needed to know his heart was right with the Lord. His heart. Although, most organs in the human body are necessary for our survival, none is more important than the heart. To me, it's where our soul is. I wanted this new heart to not only be vital in keeping him alive, but also receptive to the Lord. Although I'll never really know, until my death, if my father accepted Christ that day, I do affirm his heart was more tender to receiving Him after that. After all, it has taken me this long to really know Him and I have essentially believed all my life. Hard-headedness truly runs deep in our veins!

So...here's to Rod healing physically and spiritually. With God's mercy and grace, both will be mended to and in His timely will.

Where the Heart Is

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The Lord says he doesn't look at one's outward appearance, but at the heart. He isn't looking for a perfect person, but rather, what character and intentions lie beneath the facade. To me, it is so important that My God knows my heart, and He is pleased with what he sees. I want to instill this God-awareness in my children, and hopefully, raise men of integrity. As I tuck them in at night, my prayers are for them to never cause the Holy Spirit sorrow by the wrong intentions of their hearts. Then, the Lord revealed to me that my prayers are indeed being heard and answered.

The other day Alex came home and told me he got a "good citizen" sticker while in the cafeteria. Which means, if a teacher notices good deeds or random acts of kindness towards another person, she rewards the child with this sticker of praise. He went on to explain how he noticed a boy sitting by himself in the cafeteria and raised his hand to ask a teacher if he could move to sit by him. (They aren't allowed to move once they are seated. ) The teacher said to wait and if after everyone made it through the lunch line, the boy was still alone, he could move. He waited and watched; no one sat by the boy. Alex got up, packed up his lunch, moved away from his comfort-zone of friends, and sat by the lonely boy. After listening to his story, I just stared at my 8-year-old in disbelief. How could he, at such a young age, already have more character than most adults I know? I embraced him, kissed his little cheeks and stared into his hazel eyes. "You are a boy after God's heart; I have never been so proud," I said. "Most importantly, God is proud."

Realizing that God hand-picked me to be these boys' mother seems, at times, to be a daunting task. My confidence sometimes waivers...what if I'm not apt enough? After all, I'm too impatient, too self-fish, too inexperienced...but then I remember David. A lowly Shepard boy, whom God hand-picked to be the King of Israel; not because of what he was, but who he was. WOW! Thankfully, my heart knows to whom I belong...humbly, His servant. I am up to the task indeed! I am HIS.

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!