When You Think They Are Still Cubs

She had a cake with question marks all over it.

She did every one backwards.  That's her dyslexia.  It's not that bad, and not all the time, but it happens.

She also read her 2 backwards and thought it was 5 dozen cookies instead of 2 dozen.

And they all laughed at her.  Teasing her.  Making fun.  All in good love.

But she almost cried.  She felt like crying.  She wanted to cry.

She started over.

Her daddy has learned to be careful.  Watching his numbers and double checking all his work.

But only after eating lots of cabinets.

She will learn, too.  Learn to be extra careful.

But until then -

Blubird, tell them what your mama said would happen if they ever make you cry . . .

So My Thanksgiving Has Come and Gone

Thanksgiving found me browsing my blog and reliving my year.

What a serious year. 

Where was my humor and there is so much sadness on the lines and between the lines.

My mind seperates my years into two sides of memories.

Good years and bad years.

Hurt filled painful years like 1983, 1987, 1994, and 2000. 

There was 2004 and 2005. 

Years filled with a loss and change that made me feel like I was weighted and drowning and would never breathe peace again.

Then 2011.

New Year's Eve began with a tornado that brought wind and rain and silence that maybe whispered a sign of what was to come? 

But does our guard and prayers for strength in the good times for the bad times ever really guard us?

Does our faith and our trust really wrap us in prepared hearts and minds?

And I read yes in every post of remembrance. 

And in the pain of 2005 we walked a hard path into what was meant to be in 2011.  A place of purpose and questions answered when I wasn't sure that I would ever know why was that? 

And now I see.

And an unexpected day that turned this year upside down saved my life and can I ever question goodness and am I guarded and wrapped in grace?

Yes my mind shouts joy.

And those bad years shelve themselves with the good years

 for purpose and reason see plainly in time.

Family leaned in closer and loved harder.  Some friends stuck by me in this year of a change in me and some have grown quiet. 

A little more grace I needed as I struggled to make sense of hard times.  As I tried to comfort my first girl and her missing her soldier, my middle girl and her pain, and my baby girl and her fears.  As I tried to support my love who was making life changing decisions.  As I searched out

what my Father gives in unending gifts that may unwrap slowly.

So my Thanksgiving has come and gone. 

And my giving of thanks stays.

Thank you, Father, for 2011.  Help me place it, and the others, where they truly belong.

And On Your Birthday You Give Me Gift . . . again

You slept on the sofa last night. 

The thunder might scare Izzy.

I looked for you everywhere.  I looked for you in all the places I thought you should be.  I thought I had found you but was wrong.  And wrong again.

Then there you were. Love giving the tour and taking the stairs and offering your hand.

And life began.

And now years later you sleep on the sofa on your birthday.

She tries so hard and works all day to give gift without gift.  And she looks at me and worries and I reassure her it will all be good with you. 

And it has been good with you. 

We have laid together and whispered loud will our year ever come?  And you rise every morning at crack of dawn and work till tired is in your eyes.

Will there ever be just one more hour of sleep or just one break?

And the question comes on phone and I see your face and know you want to say no but will have to say yes.  And yes is spelled in sweet four letter word.

And my appreciation and love and desire for you longs long after you sleep on your birthday.

When He knitted you forty-four years ago He wove my being into every stitch.  And my being by your side is what I was searching for and I give you my hand to walk to forty-five.

And my year has come again, and again, and again.

Gift from you.

And if there ever was perfection in imperfection it is you.

When Faith is All You Have and Grace is More Than Enough

I am up and dressed.  Tired eyes lying awake long before the sun.

I'm going this morning to witness the death of a child.

And at this moment all the prayers of the past months that have been placed at the Father's feet are seeking desperate hope that a baby to be born broken with little or no life will emerge lungs screaming and breathing in air for a long lifetime.

A long lifetime.  A healthly long life.

And I try to pray sensibly.  With words shown to me by Jesus to petition my Father God.  But in the midst of them I find myself begging again for the doctors to be wrong.  For the miracle I want to see today.  For my friend's heart to not break.

And yes, I tell my child, we can question.  It is not wrong to want to understand something beyond the grasp of our minds and our hearts.

But then we stop.  We believe in the power and knowledge so as not to damage our faith.

Because belief in Jesus is breathing in air for an eternal lifetime.

We believe that what we think would be the best for now is small in what God knows to be the best for the future.

But then I ask

how?

why?

and one more time . . .

please.

It was not the death of a child I witnesssed.  It was a child going home.  For he is alive now more than ever.

Baby Canaan with Jesus.  Parents and family as strong as the oaks outside my window.  Bending but not breaking.  Holding breath to hold him again one day - eternally.

Because of faith.

Because of grace.

When We Waltz with Jesus Instead of Dancing with the Devil

Satan hovers like a vulture waiting for a day that will never happen.

And my Lord enfolds and envelops.

To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me.
Acts 26:18

You have been crushed by the heel of Jesus and His scarred hand holds the key that will imprison you forever.

And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever.

Revelation 20:10

One day you will be bruised under my feet as you are already under that of my Saviour,

The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus be with you.

Romans 16:20

 and you will no longer be allowed to attack me.

But until then -

I will never belong to you. 

I may fall to weakness and the joys of flesh and sinful mind

 No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

2 Corinthians 11:14

The Lord said to Satan, "From where do you come?" Then Satan answered the Lord and said, " From roaming about the earth and walking around in it."
Job 1:7 

but

 You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.

1 John 4:4

I will never belong to you.

When You're Not In-Sync . . . but you love him anyway

Max was playing with the blood pressure machine and checked mine.  Thought I'd take advantage of this and try a little sexting with my lover husband. 

But . . .

Wasn't sure exactly what sexting was - so I looked it up.  Don't do that, y'all.

As you will see it didn't go as planned.  Maybe I didn't start out right?

My blood pressure is 84/53.  Now a play on words that he should understand - Am I alive?

That's low. Did you take it with the wrist at heart level?  That's what it says to do on the side of the monior.

He's not getting it.  But I'll answer his question and try again.

Now 80/52. Pulse 65.  I had it at heart level.  Next one 90/59.  Pulse 60.

Did you swap arms?

Yep.  Counted my pulse myself and it's right. 

 So, here we go again -  Maybe I need mouth to mouth.

I'll be glad to save your life.

Score.  He got it.  Here. We. Go.

You already have baby.  You already have.

I sent you a link on email. Don't think anything is wrong.

Huh?  We're backtracking . . .  Stay with me, baby.  Stay with me.

It says I could be pregnant?

Lol.

Lol? - the kids say that.  Yes.  Make him feel young.

You're so hip.

I think that was long before cell phones.

Maybe I lost him somewhere in translation? 

Oh, well.  There's always tomorrow.

When a Picture Gives You Pause . . .

And time stops for no one.  Not even a mama trying to hold on to the last of her baby girl's baby days.

Exactly one year later.

Wow.

And it was a long year.  And she persevered.  I don't think we will look back one day and laugh.  But we will look back.

And isn't that enough?

Courage doesn't always roar.
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice
at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."
- Mary Anne Radmacher

One More Year of the Fair . . .

My sweet Izzy has been waiting on me to post about our fair projects. 

She works very hard all year and puts up with me making her redo till my satisfaction or she starts to ignore me and I don't even brag on them.

Ever feel like a failure as a mom?  Ever think your priorities aren't straight if this makes you feel like a failure as a mom?

But, still, some of her hard work . . .

ranging from the string art owl she designed herself to yard art to her cross stitch to her gourd art - and there are many more.  Thirty something.

But lastly - the toy elephant she made.  It's her favorite and sweet baby boy nephew long waited for gets it.  That's love - cause it's her favorite, y'all.

One Thousand Gifts . . .

I am married to the only man that captured my heart - and loved me enough to keep it. The only man that was willing to mold himself to fit me perfectly. Who was willing to gently mold me to fit him perfect.

I have - and yes, I'm going to say it - the best kids in the world. And that love that appears the first moment you know you are pregnant and grows till it bursts from your womb to your heart and into your every moment of life has been with me for over twenty-two years now. And it's not going anywhere.

I look around this house and like where I am. I like the colors on the walls and the wood on the floors. I like the way my bed feels at night and the sound of no alarm clock in the morning.

I'm in love with stretching my legs out at night and touching him. Crazy about waking at two in the morning to peek in on them.

And in all of these good things I cannot forget to scour my life hard for bad habits to break, good habits to start, and better and more ways to love my neighbors.

And in each breath I must adapt myself to be more like Christ.

And expectant for blessings . . .

My gratitude list continues . . .

hearing the wind through the screens

kind bankers when you make huge mistakes

thanksgiving crafts from Donna kind enough to share

shoebox shopping with my proud heart watching them love

shoebox packing party lovingly planned by Jennifer

laughing sharing potty-training tips

the joy of being over potty-training

the turning of the leaves

remembering that even in the death of leaves God shows beauty, which reminds me how much more thought and care He puts into loving me

painting.  when I get passed being too lazy to get started I'm always revived and refreshed

remembering to thank God for gifts and talents

how my love completely balances me

understands me

forgives me

loves me

anticipating the holidays with Janice and Penny - waiting is already pained

watching my baby sister be a mama

and the joy this new little boy has brought

My list, #'s 721-738.

Friday's Fave Five

Spending Monday evening with dear friend, Sandra, and her family.  Each Halloween she welcomes us into her home with great food and whole candy bars.  This year there were a few cowtails - but not anymore. 

She is kind, gracious, knows me tooooo well, and loves my kids.  What other kind of friend should there be?

Oh, Tuesday.  See yesterday's post.  Dreaming of that every Tuesday . . .

Wednesday was beautiful.  We spent the day with our sweet new baby boy nephew and played outside.

Enjoying a Mayfield fudgesicle.  Maybe I should work on finding something else great about Thursday?  But, why?

And today, Friday, Izzy has an all day event so there will be no schooling.  And that is nice.  But Friday is usually a favorite day all day just 'cause it's Friday.

Joining Living To Tell the Story: Friday's Fave Five.

Isn't This the Way To Make a Living?

Our days our numbered on this earth.  Finding your number is as elusive as the needle in the haystack.

And we finally had a day off.  Finally.

And we spent it on the Trace.  Just the four of us.

I watch her snap picture after picture and stand in amazement at the difference just a year can make in the life of a child.

And in these numbered days you wake one morning to a young woman's arms loving you good morning and only pauses of a child are left behind.

And I lean into him and feel his breath and the day is kissed with beauty and perfection.

Too many days are spent making a living.

But isn't this the living?