Last Night in the Bathroom

Me: (looking in the mirror) Oh! Look at that!
(pointing to strand of hair) It's completely white, and curly!

Brian: (not impressed) You only have one?

Me: Oh, no. There are more.(pouting) But they aren't all curly like this one.

Brian: OK. Wanna know my woe for the day? I found three very dark hairs (pause for emphasis) growing on my ear.

Me: Oh. That's bad. (pause to let moment of sympathy take affect) But at least they weren't growing on your nose. That would be really bad.

Yes, Brian and I have deep conversations before bedtime. *wink*

Moms' Night Out

One of the benefits of being a Mommy Blogger is that sometimes you are given special opportunities. Because an entity wants you to promote their product/service/event/website/ blog/whatever.
And, quite honestly, most of the requests I receive for such promotions - I politely refuse.
I don't want you to come here and feel like you're watching a commercial, or reading an advertisement.
Because, what fun is that??? *wink*

But every once in a while, I receive an invitation which I don't refuse. Because it's something I'm pretty sure is going to be a good thing. For both of us!

Such was the case a couple of months ago when I received an invitation to see a pre-release screening of Moms' Night Out.
Because, really. Who doesn't want a moms' night out???
So, after weeks of waiting, last Thursday finally arrived and I traveled to Grand Rapids to see the show with my friend, Kaira.
OK. Being honest here. I was slightly nervous going in to watch the movie. Because I really wanted it to be good. But sometimes Christian films are a bit cheesy. I was also concerned that this film might portray dads as incompetent fools who can't manage the kids without mommy. And I didn't want to see that.
I wanted Moms' Night Out to be a fun, realistic, not-cheesy, feel-good flick - to which I would be happy to take any of my mom-friends, whether they are Christian, or not.
So, I was a little nervous going in.
Because I didn't want to be disappointed with what I saw.

And...

I totally loved it!!!

The characters were very real. I could relate to the struggles they faced in motherhood. They were refreshingly honest. I often wanted to reach through the screen and hold their hand, to assure them they aren't alone.
Yet, at times I laughed so hard I thought I might wet myself.
And the incompetent-fool-dad-factor? Was nowhere to be found. *whew!*

Sooooooo, friends, here's the pitch: Moms' Night Out opens in theaters May 9. It would be a fabulous moms' night out event for you and your mom-friends. It would also be a great date. Or a family outing.
Hey, I'm confident those of you without children would enjoy it, too. It's that good.
I've provided the link above so you can easily find a theater near you which will be showing the film. Please go see it.
Let's show Hollywood this kind of entertainment is worth their time and effort!

I Need to Forgive

Lessons From the Edge

Givers have a hard time receiving.

Anyone know what next week is?

Why, it's National Volunteer Week.

And, because we have so many fabulous volunteers who help keep life at Edgewood "full", we had a party this week to honor them - and to say THANKS!
Yeah, I know. We had the party in the "wrong" week. My boss is on vacation next week, and I wanted her to be here for the party. So there! *wink*

The plans had all been made - and most of the work had been done - when our guests of honor began arriving Wednesday afternoon. I went out to the atrium to greet them, and invite them to relax on the couches until the party started. And some of these wonderful people tried to rebel against me.
Seriously.
They said things like, "What can I do?" and "How can I help?" and "Do you need assistance with anything?"
And I'm all, "Hello!!?? This is a Volunteer Appreciation Party! You're here so we can honor and thank you. You aren't here to work. Now sit down, and quit trying to be helpful!"

I smiled at the scene I'd just lived, as I walked back into the dining room to finish putting things together. I mean, I understood them. These people are natural "givers". They love to serve. It's in their wiring. It's what they do! So I understood the trouble they had coming to a party and not being able to help.
And I chuckled at the irony of the circumstance: Givers, not being allowed to give.
Yet at the same time, I hoped with all my heart that these men and women would be able to slow down enough - to enjoy the event put on for them - so they would recognize how important they are to everyone at Edgewood. Because they are!
For as much as I appreciate their hard work and dedication - their giving, I wanted them to receive our thanks.

So now, I need to turn this lesson around to you. Are you a natural-born-helper? Do you love to give, and hesitate to receive? Would you rather host a party than be the guest of honor?
Then you are probably well acquainted with this week's lesson.
May I encourage you right now to let someone appreciate you? The next time a person says, "Thanks for all you do," will you resist the urge to say, "Awwww, it's nothing,"? Instead, try saying, "You're welcome. I'm so glad to know my contribution makes a difference to you."
I know, I know. Givers have a hard time receiving. But if you are in that category, just for kicks, let someone serve you!

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Clarify Before You Speak

Monday I was in the kitchen making dinner when Elizabeth asked me a startling question.

"Mom, when you smoke weed..."

Rather shocked, I turned to give her my full attention. I do not - nor have I ever(!) - smoke weed. I was poised to give my defense, while simultaneously questioning my daughter to find out where on earth she got the idea that I smoke weed.
But as it turned out, none of my words were necessary.
When Elizabeth finished her question I realized she was saying "you" in the generic sense.
Not "you" as in me.
See, she's writing an article for journalism in which she has been assigned the "anti" side of an argument. She has to write about why marijuana should not be legalized in Michigan. And the whole of her question was, "When you smoke weed, does it harm your lungs?" She wasn't asking me about my experience, she was looking for an argument against weed's legalization.
Well, that made a big difference.

Reminds me of the time my high school psychology teacher told us how important it is to know what your kids are asking.
Her son approached her with the question, "Mom, what does 'Lay me' mean?"
She said she was about to dive into a discussion about the birds and the bees when he clarified, "You know, when someone says, 'Now I lay me down to sleep.'"

Whew!!!

HE Knows What's in my Freezer

Saturday I was grocery shopping. When I got to the frozen vegetable isle, I walked up and down it four times - progressively slower with each pass. I was looking for pearl onions for the chicken pot pie I'm going to make this week, but I just couldn't find them.
At first I took my usual brisk stride down the isle, then I walked slowly, then slower, until I was eventually going step, step, pause and scan; step, step, pause and scan. Finally I decided, Whatever! I don't really need those onions, anyway.
And I walked over to pick out the ice cream. (Where I was much happier to spend time lingering until I found just the right flavor...)

Were it not for the goodness of God, I'm sure I wouldn't have thought about those onions again.

But God is good (All the time!) and I did think about those onions once more.

I was back home, putting the groceries away when it happened. I opened the freezer, picked up a basket, and got a great big smile on my face.
There before me was half a bag of pearl onions.
I totally forgot I had them.
But God knew.
With every step I took in the frozen food section at Meijer, God knew I already had what I needed in my freezer.
Were there really no pearl onions at the store? Or did HE just keep me from seeing them?
I don't know. And, honestly? I really don't care!
The fact of the matter is, as I looked at the bag of pearl onions in my freezer I had an overwhelming sense of peace. It was as if God were saying to me, See, Karen? I pay attention to every.thing. I know when you sit and when you rise. I perceive your thoughts from afar. I discern your going out and your lying down. I am familiar with all your ways. I even know what's in your freezer!

And I asked myself, If God is that much into the details, why do I ever worry about my life?

The Last Word

AAAARRRGGGHHH!

OK. I just needed to get that out. Thank you.

Well, on second thought, maybe there's more I need to get out.
I have just about had it with teenage attitude and immaturity around here!
See, a certain teenage son of mine (the one with more experience being a teen *ahem*) seems to think he's so wise and clever that he can't keep his mouth from making "smart" comments. And every time we get into a disagreement about anything, he won't stop. That is, when I say something - intending to end the conversation - he has to make a rebuttal. Usually of the sarcastic nature.
And it drives me nuts!
So, last week we were in the midst of another disagreement (Over what? I cannot even remember.) and this experienced teen of mine was going on with his usual smart-alec comments and I-must-have-the-last-word-on-the-matter tirade. And as I sat on the couch trying to have the last word, myself, I found myself thinking, I cannot let him have the last word. If I do, he'll think he's right. He'll think he's out-smarted me, or that I am giving in and crowning him the winner of this argument. No! I must not let this child have the final say. I need to keep responding to his responses to prove to him that I AM RIGHT!
Because, honestly, I was right. I mean, I'm the adult here. I know more than my teenage son. Right?
For a moment I really did feel like I needed to keep going for the last word. Because I didn't want my son thinking he was going to have it. I didn't want him to think that by me staying quiet, I was indicating that I was giving in to his argument. Oh! What chaos would reign in this home if that boy began to think he was running the show.
Besides, I just didn't like the idea of him thinking he was right and I was wrong. And I found myself thinking again, I must not let this child have the final say. I need to keep responding to his responses to prove to him that I AM RIGHT!
Which is just about the moment God's Spirit convicted mine. I took a deep breath, bit my tongue, held my words and realized, I have just about had it with teenage attitude and immaturity around here!

Yep. His and mine.

Gracious Father, please help me out-grow my immaturity!

Pray

Lessons From the Edge

You really will use that math some day.

Do you remember being in math class in high school?
If you were anything like me you wondered, Why do I need to learn this stuff? I'm never going to use it once the test on this chapter is over, anyway!
I mean, I loved my Geometry teacher, and the class was fun. But - Really! - in normal life, when do I ever need to prove that two shapes are congruent? And who cares what the volume of a glass is? If I want to know how much water it holds, I just turn on the faucet and fill it up!

But this week at Edgewood, something strange happened to me.

I used Geometry!

As I was setting the chairs up to get ready for exercise class, D asked me, "How far is it around a circle that is 12 inches?" After some clarifying questions I understood that he was looking for the circumference of a circle with a diameter of 12 inches.
I thought for a minute and said, "Well, if I remember correctly, the formula for circumference is pi times radius squared. And if the diameter is 12, the radius is 6. So that would be 3.14 times 36." And I got out my trusty calculator (because I was too lazy didn't have enough time to figure it out long-hand) and determined the distance to be 113 inches.
Which I immediately reported to D.
Then I was curious why he'd asked me the question so I asked him, "Why did you wonder?" D told me he was trying to figure out how far he'd just "gone" on the pedaling gadget he was using. He knew the pedals were 12 inches apart, but didn't know how to figure out the rest. With the information I had given him, D could now multiply 113 inches by the number of rotations he had gone and find out how far he had "traveled". He was so happy!
And I thought it was pretty cool that just 27 years after I studied it, something I learned in Geometry proved useful in my every-day-life.

So, when your kiddos complain to you about the things they "have to learn", tell them to persevere. Tell them I said, You really will use that math some day.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Overheard From the Kitchen

Saturday night I was in the kitchen making dinner when Matthew called from the family room, "Mom, what's for dinner?"
"Bean burritos," I replied.
Then I smiled in anticipation of the squeal I knew would be coming.
Matthew loves bean burritos and always has an enthusiastic response when I'm making them.
And, sure enough, he let out a happy howl-of-sorts. To which his friend must have given him a strange look because Matthew went on to say, "Besides taco dishes, bean burritos are the most amazing thing she makes."
At which point, I think the smile on my face grew two inches on each side.
I'm not sure why it is, but I always get happy when my kids like what I'm making for dinner.
And when they brag about it to their friends?
Bonus!

Our dinner guest Saturday night asked me to share the bean burrito recipe with his mom. *grin*
And I thought I would take it one step further and share it with all of you. Just follow this link. (BTW, I add a cup of cubed cooked chicken to the recipe. We love it that way!)

You're welcome. *wink*

Choices, Choices, Choices

Your child is getting on your last nerve.

Your boss won't listen to your suggestions/complaints/frustrations/needs.

The cookies you made for tomorrow's bake sale have burned.

Someone ate the last of the ice cream, and you really wanted it!

You don't know how you're going to make it through another day of trials, mistakes, and utter disappointment.

Is any of this resonating with you?
Do you feel as though every day moment is coming at you with fists at the ready to punch you in the gut? Such that you're always on the defensive, ready to strike back at the first sign of attack?
And, how on earth are we supposed to be women who reflect the goodness of God when we're living in circumstances like these which I have described???
Granted, some of the circumstances which drive us to the edge can seem rather trivial. I mean, how bad is it really when someone else eats the last of the ice cream? But when these things pile up on each other, well, it's kind of like that straw on the camel's back. Ya know?

So, what's a woman to do when her world looks like the enemy, but she wants to grow in godliness?

I've been thinking about this question quite a lot lately, as I meet with some friends with the goal of spurring one another on toward being the women God has created us to be. We're reading "Growing Your Faith" together, and the author provided insight to our question. Well, not our question specifically, but close enough. *wink*
The fact of the matter is, every day we are faced with choices in how we're going to respond to our various situations.
Your child gets on your last nerve, and you have a choice: You can blow up at him; or - stop, breathe deeply, and pray. Ask God to remind you what a blessing that little terror boy is. And give thanks.
When your boss won't listen, you have a choice: Let it affect your attitude and the way you respond to other people in your day; or -stop, breathe deeply, and pray. Remember that God always listens to you. That He loves listening to you. And give thanks.
And the cookies... What are you going to do? You could let the frustration come flying out of your mouth to hit some unsuspecting family member in the face. Or - you could stop, breathe deeply, and pray. Ask God to help you have right perspective. They're only cookies, after all. Perhaps you could run to the store and buy some that their bakery didn't burn. Give thanks for that store. And the car you have to get there.

And on it goes.

The thing is, big or small, every day we.have.choices to make in response to our circumstances.
*We can choose to let our circumstances run us over and demolish our spirit and character.
*OR, we can choose to invite God into every moment. We can surrender our desire to explode to HIS desire to work in us. And we can grow in godliness, in spite of our circumstance.
By the power of His Spirit, we can do these things.

The choice is yours.

What will you do?

Like Mother, Like Daughter?

We both have brown hair.
Our eyes are similar.
We like the same music.
Both of us enjoy reading.
We laugh at the same jokes.
You'd be surprised if you heard us belch.
And we both love God with our whole heart.
These are some of the reasons I am sure Elizabeth is my girl.
She's just like me in so many ways!

But I've been noticing another similarity over the past couple years which has me wondering if she inherited more than my witty charm, refined tastes, and astonishingly good looks. *wink*
That is, I notice her crying an awful lot. Often times the tears come with little or no prompting. The other day she did her best to convince me nothing was wrong. She just had to cry. She thought maybe she was too tired. Whatever the reason - she couldn't stop the tears from coming.
And as I sat there watching her - searching for the words to say which would give her some level of comfort - I couldn't help but wonder.
Did my girl get my wacky Serotonin issues, too?
The question came to me because I saw so much of my old self in the girl sitting across the table from me. The look of hopelessness and helplessness. The expression of frustration at not knowing why she couldn't stop crying. Or why she was crying in the first place. The despair.
It was all too familiar to me.
And I wondered.
Still do.
The thing is, I don't want to project my struggles onto her.
So I hesitate to ask the question. Because I don't want Elizabeth to take on something that isn't true of her - just because I suggest it.
Annnnd, on the other hand, I don't want her to battle with a thing until she's nearly 40, just because she doesn't realize she's battling it. Don't want her to simply think she's odd and needs to suffer with her oddness. Wondering what on earth is wrong.

So I'm doing what I always do when I don't know what to do. I'm asking my Father to lead me; to show me what I need to see; to move me where I need to go.
And I'm waiting.
Trusting. And waiting.

God Has NOT Forgotten You

Lessons From the Edge

It's important to look out for the new kid.

I'm telling you, I have the best job ever.

Because I get to witness the most beautiful acts of human kindness.

This week, it centered around a new woman.

E moved in over the weekend and - as many people do - she has had some trouble getting acclimated to her new home. She is often confused about where she needs to be, why she's at Edgewood, and what she's supposed to be doing.
So, she asks lots of questions.
And sometimes seems as though she can do nothing but complain.
But, do you think that behavior ruins the demeanor of the fine folks at Edgewood?
Oh, no, it doesn't!
Wednesday afternoon I walked past E as she sat in the atrium with three other ladies around her. They called me over to ask a question, which is when I discovered they were inviting E to come to Pizza Night. I heard them telling her how fun it is, and how much they would love for her to participate. These ladies were encouraging E, in spite of her sometimes harsh disposition. They were loving on her. I saw E smiling. And beginning to look comfortable.
And I thought, Look at these ladies. Each one of them remembers what it was like to be "new" here. Each of them understands the uncertainty, and the hint of fear associated with moving in. And they want to help E with the transition. They have been where she is, and they want to help her through.
I was so proud of them for expressing care, and reaching out to a woman in need.

How about you? Is there someone new in your sphere of influence? Someone who needs a little extra TLC?
Consider this your invitation to reach out to that individual.
Remember: It's important to look out for the new kid.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

More Than a Good Read

A couple of months ago A few months ago A while ago, my daughter's future mother-in-law gave me a book to read. She was finished with it and wanted to pass it on.
While it took me a while to get around to reading it, I'm so glad I did. Because this book - in addition to the great story line - is filled with treasures of wisdom. One-liners, and sometimes entire paragraphs. As I read, I often found myself looking for my pen so I could underline the treasures I was finding. Like:

And I found out that sometimes we just have to accept the things we don't understand.

And:

Our limitation is God's opportunity.

But it was this one near the end that really grabbed me:

"Ever man should have the courage to stand up and face the enemy," I said, "'cause ever person that looks like a enemy on the outside ain't necessarily one on the inside. We all has more in common than we think. You stood up with courage and faced me when I was dangerous, and it changed my life. You loved me for who I was on the inside, the person God meant for me to be, the one that had just gotten lost for a while on some ugly roads in life."

Of course, this quote has extreme significance within the context of the story from which it came. BUT, I believe there are all kinds of Truth in that statement for you and me and the stories we're living in today. Because we all have perceived enemies. They may be neighbors, bosses, or colleagues. At times, we may even see our children or our spouses as enemies. They are the people with whom we disagree, who rub us the wrong way, whom we don't completely understand. We begin to think they are out to get us. Or at least want to make us miserable. But, We all has more in common than we think.
And, today, I want to encourage you to ask God to help you see the person inside. The one HE means for them to be. Ask Him to give you eyes to see like He sees, and a heart to love like He does. I pray you will have the courage to face the one(s) who seems dangerous to you today. May God's love through you have an eternal impact. (On both of you!)

And - in case you're super interested in this book now - it is called Same Kind of Different as Me. The authors are Ron Hall and Denver Moore. Annnnnnd, since I was blessed to receive this book from a friend, I want to bless someone else now. If you'd like my copy, just leave me a comment - along with a promise to keep passing the book around!
I'll pick a winner tomorrow night and get the book in the mail to you.

This Little Saying has Changed My Praying

Go ahead and read that statement again.

And again.

If you're anything like me, it will take a day or two for those words to really sink in. But it will be totally worth the wait!
Several years ago, God led me to become a thankful woman. I thank Him for things all the time. And He blesses my heart - He changes my perspective - when I give Him thanks.
It's a beautiful thing.
However, the day after I read the above statement God gave me a new perspective. I sat down to eat my breakfast and bowed my head to pray. I said something like, "Thank You, God, for Your love for me. Thank You for Your grace." And then I paused. I remembered that statement and I thought, What if I didn't have God's love today? What if I had to live without His grace and mercy? In my pause, I realized some of my prayers had become not much more than words. I have gotten so used to saying, "Thank You, God, for Your love for me," that I have forgotten to really be thankful.

I have spoken, but I have not pondered.

Until God spoke to me through that clever little saying on Facebook one day.
Oh, how thankful I am for His intervention in my praying. Because I am pausing more now. I am thinking about the rote things I used to only say. Yes. I am slowing down and HE is drawing me close.

Thank You, Father. Really.

Progress Reports

Friday evening Josh asked to be taken to a certain fishing spot on Saturday. I had to go into work for a while Saturday afternoon, so I told Josh I would drop him off on my way. Actually, it wasn't "on my way". Rather it was out of the way. But you get the idea.
The problem is, I went shopping Saturday morning - which took longer than I anticipated. As in, I spent half an hour simply standing in the check-out line. *ugh* The result was, by the time I got home I had 15 minutes before I needed to leave for work. And in that time I needed to put groceries away, get dinner ready in the Crock Pot, and fix myself something for lunch. When Elizabeth asked, "Are't you going to take Josh fishing?" my heart sank in my chest (I'd forgotten that little detail.) and I said apologetically, "I can't do that now. Not enough time."
I fully anticipated Josh would start yelling and being angry at me because I was going back on my word. That behavior, after all, has been his typical response to disappointment. And I completely understood why he would be disappointed with this unexpected turn of events.

BUT Josh did not start yelling.

In fact, he helped bring in the groceries. AND, he made me a sandwich for lunch.

Yeah. My boy who has been known to flip out on a dime, maintained complete composure in the face of disappointment. He even went out of his way to be helpful.
And I? Couldn't let that behavior go by without saying something.
So that evening, when we were at the dinner table, I told Josh how much I appreciated his attitude in spite of disappointment. I didn't get all gushy and tell him how I'd been thinking about it all day. Not sure he would have taken to that very well. But I made sure he knew I noticed his progress. And I made sure he knew I was thankful for the growth I'm seeing in him. Because, goodness knows, I tell him when I am not happy with his behavior. I want to be sure to point out the good stuff, too!

Fellow mother, may I encourage you today to catch your children doing something well, so you can tell them you saw it?

What's on Your Mind?

)

Lessons From the Edge *re-post*

This one is from May 20, 2011.

Joy does not depend on circumstances.

Can I tell you about some other favorite residents of mine?
They are D and H.
D moved in a couple months ago and waited for H to join her. He was in a rehab facility, and D waited so patiently. I knew she was eager for him to join her, because every time I spoke with her, she'd say, "My husband is H. He isn't here yet. But he'll be coming." And she'd smile.
Oh, I wish you could have seen her after H finally arrived at Edgewood. That dear woman wore a smile bigger than any I've ever seen!
It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Since H came to Edgewood I have enjoyed many opportunities to talk with them, and to listen about their life together. They traveled around the country with a mission team and helped build (I think) 60 churches. They were teachers together at a small Christian school. They both loved music and enjoyed it together.
What a beautiful couple.

Well, last Friday, D passed away. And the first time I saw H since her passing was at Bible study on Monday. I put my arm around him and asked how he was doing. Without hesitation, H told me he was sad to not have her with him anymore but he was so joyful for her - because she is with Jesus. I've heard those words coming out of his mouth all week. I keep hearing joy, joy, joy.
Rather than focusing on his circumstance, H is rooted in Jesus.
It blesses me to hear him. H is reminding me to remember the eternal. Earth is temporary. Jesus gives us forever. Death is temporary for the Believer. We have eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
And, Joy does not depend on our circumstances.

***As I was writing this post it occurred to me D may be walking around in heaven saying to everyone she meets, "My husband is H. He isn't here yet. But he'll be coming."

The One-Handed Wonder *re-post*

From January 3, 2012

Can I just say? It's been a long time since I have played much Foosball.
And when I did used to play with some frequency, it was always with a partner. So I only had to pay attention to two handles. One for each hand. That was enough for me.

So you must understand, I am really not what you would call a Foosball player. I'm just NOT.

Have I made adequate excuse for what I'm about to admit??? *wink*

My mother-in-law got the kids a Foosball table for Christmas. What a great gift! They have been enjoying it tremendously. (As have their friends!)
A few days after the game was all set up, Joshua fractured his left hand. Had nothing to do with Foosball. Had everything to do with the fact that he wasn't thinking about the wooden frame inside the couch when he decided to punch the couch, in an attempt to scare his little brother. *sigh*

Now, if you think a hand in a splint would keep a teenage boy from playing two-handed games like Foosball, you need to think again. Joshua continued to play. With only his right hand.
Yes. One hand for four handles.

And when he challenged me to a game, saying he could BEAT ME, well, what was I supposed to do?
Of course I accepted the challenge. I mean, really! I had two good hands, and he had only one. How hard could it be for me to win that game???

Let me just say, it wasn't hard.

It was impossible!

The boy kicked my b*tt. *head hung in shame*

But, in one of our repeat matches I scored five goals! Never mind that in the game right before, he shut me out 10-0.

What can I say? I have an amazing son! *grin*

Why Does This Have to be so Hard? *re-post*

From March 30, 2011

Have you ever asked that question?
About parenting?
About marriage?
About any other struggle you're facing?

I know I have!

My small group is currently watching and discussing a video series about marriage by Paul Tripp, and Sunday night we had a great discussion about this question.
In the video, Paul was talking about God using marriage as a means of sanctification. As part of the process of making us more Christ-like. He said God will bring us to the end of ourselves so we realize we need Him. So we will remember we cannot 'do this' on our own.
And in our discussion which followed the video we came to the agreement that if 'this' wasn't so hard, we would never come to the end of ourselves. If all our circumstances were easy and light, we might think we can handle life just fine on our own. We might forget our desperate need for the LORD of the universe. In our blissful enjoyment of the ease, we might miss God.

And that would be tragic.

Not to mention the fact that we would be shallow creatures, who would break at the first sign of struggle.

So, what is your agent of sanctification? What is the struggle God is using in your life to make you more like Jesus?
For me, it is clearly parenting. And I think He may be using the whole 'working outside the home' thing, too. Every day as I struggle with these issues I realize my desperate need for God's grace. I see Him softening my heart, and strengthening my resolve to follow Him. To mimic Him. To be more like Jesus.

And so HE brings me to a point where I can truly be thankful for the hard times. Because He is using them for my good.

Something to think about today!

A Humbling Moment *re-post*

From March 20, 2012

I opened up the drawer to get come crackers and noticed an empty box.

I started grumling internally because I get so tired of my kids' inablity to take care of empty boxes. Honestly! How hard is it to pick up the box, flatten it, and put it in with the recycling? It takes less than 60 seconds. How can their lives be so busy that they can't do this simple little thing? Is it pure laziness? Out-right rebelliousness? Do they do it just because they know how much it annoys me? What gives???
Then I noticed the back of the box. It had a bunch of coupons on it for cereal. And that caught my interest. Because, really(!), have you noticed the price of cereal lately?
Suddenly, I was glad the box had been left for me to find.
A couple days later I used those coupons - in conjunction with a special happening at the grocery store - and I got five boxes of cereal for less than $2.00 per box. Oh, yeah!

Why was I irritated with my kids for leaving that box behind? I mean, I'm sure they were only trying to help me manage our food bill. Probably each one of them had picked that box up to put it in the recycling, but put it right back when they saw those coupons. Yeah. I'm sure that's it!

There we go. My slice of Humble Pie has been consumed. *wink*

My Foot is Slipping *re-post*

I had an incredibly busy day last Thursday, which meant - no blogging for me!
Soooooo, I'm turning to my archives to fill this week with encouragement here.
I pray you'll be blessed.
This one is from January 31, 2011.

Lessons From the Edge

Love makes everything better.

So, I have another sweet couple to tell you about today. R and R. Part of what makes them so adorable is that they almost have the same first name. Except hers ends with an "a".
Yes, I thought they were precious before I even met them - when I'd only heard their names.

Anyway, Mr. R moved in to Edgewood several months ago, while Mrs. R was in rehab. She visited several times and soooo wanted to move in, but her body just wasn't strong enough yet.
So they waited.
Finally, about two or three weeks ago, Mrs. R moved in to Edgewood, too. And, oh! if you could have only seen the smile on Mr. R's face they day she came to stay.
I would have taken a picture, but his smile was too big to fit on the camera. *GRIN*

Needless to say, I have been thoroughly enjoying watching the two of them together at Edgewood. Holding hands, walking together, sharing glances. It's beautiful.

Then came Wednesday of this week.

We had one of our favorite musicians in to entertain, and Mr. & Mrs. R had front-row seats. I stood across the atrium from where they were and just watched in delight. They were singing along with his songs and laughing at his jokes. But I noticed something different between them and everyone else. While the entire community was enjoying the show, Mr. and Mrs. R seemed to be enjoying it a few notches more than the rest.
I watched, and I wondered.
And then I felt I understood.
R and R were enjoying the show so much, because they were watching it together - with the one they love.

Love makes everything better.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Pillow Talk

Last week Brian and I were laying in bed talking when I decided I was too tired to keep up the conversation. I said, "I'm going to roll over now and go to sleep. And...if you get the urge to rub my back, please go ahead and do it."
(Just trying to set my hubby up to make it look like this loving thing was all his idea. Totally selfless. Yep.)
And I rolled over.
And waited.

No response.

So I tried again. (very sweetly)"Even if you get the teeny tiniest little urge. Go ahead and just rub my back."

Annnnnnd, he did!

Yes, friends, you may steal my tactics idea.

You're welcome.

Kids Grow Up So Fast

I read a friend's post the other day about living in the moment with her kiddos. She lamented missing out on so much when they were really little, and encouraged young mothers to live the moments. Because kids really do grow up so fast.

And that got me thinking.

Scary, I know.

I recalled several instances in recent evenings when I have sat at the table after dinner watching my kids poking at each other, teasing, and just having fun. They've been borderline obnoxious at times, but all in good fun. And I found myself laughing right along with my husband - as we took in the scene before us. I remember thinking, Please don't ask to be excused just yet. I'm having too much fun watching you.

By many accounts, people would consider my kids "grown up". They get themselves ready for bed. I don't need to remind them to take showers. They make their own lunches for school. They are proficient in the kitchen - making cookies and brownies, pancakes and french toast, guacamole and several other concoctions. Quite simply, they don't "need" me like they did when they were little.
Because they've been growing up.
And I'm OK with that.
It's true, I miss the days when the kids used to "fight" over who got to sit on mommy's or daddy's lap after dinner. And I would give anything to have them jump on the couch again and snuggle with me while we watched a Friday night movie.
But they've out-grown those things.
Even so, the moments of teenagers are still memorable and worth cherishing.

Then I thought about the fact that my children still have a lot of growing up to do. Finishing school, deciding what to do after graduation, and beginning a new life in the great big world "out there". When that happens, they won't "need" me like they do today.
And I'm deciding right now that I'll be OK with that, too.

Because, regardless how "grown up" my kids get, there will still be moments to live.

I'm Also a Word Snob

So, last month I confessed here that I am a word nerd.
Well, I have recently discovered I am also a word snob . That is, I don't like it when people use words incorrectly.
Especially words with clear meanings.
Like "literally".
Which means actually; without exaggeration or inaccuracy.
(In case you didn't know.)

Anyway, this word-snob discovery happened when I was eavesdropping on a podcast to which my husband was listening. The speaker was talking about another man whose podcasts have become very successful and he said, "He has exploded. The guy is literally on fire!" In a teasing manner I said to Brian, "Boy, he doesn't sound very compassionate. This other guy is on fire - and Mr. Podcast seems happy about it."
OK. I know what Mr. Podcast meant. But if I am to take him at his word - which is what you should do when someone is speaking to you, right? - then I'm having a hard time listening. Because if Mr. Newly Successful is literally on fire, and Mr. Podcast is that excited about it, well? I'm not sure he's the kind of guy I want filling my mind with information.
Ya know?

And that's when it finally sank in. I.am.a.word.snob.
I don't want words to be worthless. Don't want them to lose their meaning. So it bothers me when people misuse them.
*If you're hungry, say so. Don't claim that you're literally starving to death.
*If you were just outside and it was really cold, tell me how cold you were. Don't tell me you were literally freezing.
*And if you have lots of work to do, by all means, get on it. And ask me for help if there's something I can do to assist. But don't tell me you're literally up to your ears in paperwork.

Because when you misuse words, they begin to lose their meaning. They become worthless as a mode of communication, because no one knows what you're really intending to say. When words are misused, they are stripped of their purpose. And that literally makes my skin crawl.

*wink*

Be Faithful

Lessons From the Edge

True friends don't come with strings.

Have you ever had someone help you with something, and felt later as if you "owed" them back for the favor? As if the thing they did for you came with stings attached?
Sometimes that happens. A person does you a favor - but they don't forget about it. And when their own need arises, they're quick to remind you of "that time" when they helped you.

Don't get me wrong! I'm all for mutual support. I'm a big believer in the many-hands-make-light-work concept. But I saw an example this week of how that mutual benefit was impossible. And the picture of friendship it painted was inspiring.

P has been having trouble with her computer and has a friend (J) who's been helping her get everything fixed. P has said to me more than once, "I feel like I am so indebted to J. He has spent so much time helping me with this computer." And I've tried to assure her that he helps her because he's a good friend. He likes to do things for her.
Then, two days ago I was in P's apartment and had the privilege of meeting L, J's wife. L was standing at the ironing board pressing some of P's things. P told me, "She came over to check on me, and just started ironing my things." L simply smiled.
I reminded P that friends take care of us, and she has good friends. P was quick to agree.
And I was quick to be delighted. Here was this couple who had no real "obligation" to P. (They aren't related to her. They're simply her daughter's friends.) And there is clearly nothing P can do to benefit either one of them. She has enough trouble walking down to the dining room without wearing herself out. But that doesn't matter to J and L. They aren't looking for what she can do for them. They just care. They want to help P. And they aren't looking for anything in return.

Just then, L asked, "Is there anything else that needs to be ironed?" When she realized there wasn't, she said good-bye and quietly excused herself. And as I watched her go it occurred to me:
True friends don't come with strings.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Beauty and the Beau: What's the Difference?

The Sadies Hawkins dance took place on Saturday.
And it gave me a great picture of the difference between girls and boys.
Er, between Beauties and Beaus.

About 4:30 several young ladies came over to our house and immediately went downstairs to Elizabeth's room to get ready for the dance.

Beau and another girl's date made themselves comfortable on the couch with Matthew, and played the XBox.

I was in the kitchen getting dinner ready when I glanced at the clock.
6:15!
I said to the two beaus, "Uh, dinner is going to be ready at 6:30."
After a brief pause, and no movement on their part, I followed up with, "And I think the goal is to take pictures after dinner is over. So, you probably ought to get ready for the dance."
And they did.

With that, I discovered the main difference between Beauty and the Beau:
What takes her two hours, he can do in 15 minutes. *wink*

To Trust, or Not To Trust?

Last week during Bible study at Edgewood, we got into a discussion about what it means to trust God.

And what it means to NOT trust Him.

* While it may be true that You created the entire universe, I don't really believe You're big enough to handle my current circumstance.
* I know You can raise the dead to life, but I don't know if You can truly restore this broken relationship.
* Yes, You are perfect in wisdom. However, I'm not sure You know what You're doing in my life today.
* OK, so You promise to work all things for good, but I don't see how this situation is really in my best interest.
* I don't believe You are able.
* I have zero confidence in Your power.
* I don't think You are all-knowing, after all.

When we are in the midst of the struggle, I know we may feel these things.
Believe me, I've been there!
Yet, when I look at those feelings in words I think, I would never say that! But as we discussed it together last week we concluded, when we aren't trusting God - those are the words we're saying. With our hearts.

So I am continuing to line my feelings up with the Truth.

The LORD is my light and my salvation - so why should I be afraid?
The LORD is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble?

Psalm 27:1

Because if that is True, I can have full confidence in verse 2:

When evil people come to devour me,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.

Do your feelings need to meet the Truth today?

The Best Apology

Last week my kids had a couple days off school - for Presidents' Day weekend, and a professional day for the teachers - and Joshua wanted to spend one of those days fishing.
He got up early enough to ride with me into work, and I was going to drop him off at a fishing hole on the way. We'd made plans for the fishing trip the night before, and I told Joshua he needed to be ready to go by 8:25. Yet as the clock ticked that morning, and 8:25 got nearer and nearer, it wasn't looking like my young angler was going to be ready on time.
I tried so hard to be patient, not to nag, or get anxious. But I had a 9:00 meeting at work, and my boy was lagging.
Finally, the van was loaded with all the necessary fishing equipment and we were on our way. (About 8:28, *ahem*)
As we were pulling out of the driveway, I *might* have been releasing a heavy sigh.
At almost the same time, Joshua looked at me and said, "Thanks for your patience with me this morning. Sorry for making you practice it!"

And just like that, I recognized (read that: God spoke through my son) one more way God is using my children to refine me.
Oh, I made it to my meeting on time. But not before my Father gave me a chance to practice patience.

Psalm 27:1

Lessons From the Edge

Eeny, meeny, miney, moe. Which lesson should I pick to post?
This week contained so many "teachable moments" at Edgewood. It's hard to pick which one I want to share with you!
But, alas, I shall choose...

Whenever possible, speak into a young person's life.

This week at Edgewood, we had the pleasure of being visited by a small group of home-schooling moms and their children. They came in Monday afternoon with treats and games and lots of smiles, and filled the atrium with delight for all of us.
It was especially sweet to see a few of our ladies passing around a baby. They each were loving the opportunity to hold a little life in their arms. I'm sure I heard lullabies being sung, too.
As I was bustling around the atrium getting chairs, answering questions, snapping pictures, and all the other little things an activity director does, I couldn't help but notice L. L is a little girl, about 10 years old, who was among the children visiting with our community members. I was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable she was in her interactions with each of them. Even with some who are a little more difficult to understand. L was polite and animated and kind and warm. She had a way of relating to the men and women at Edgewood like none I've ever seen in a 10-year-old young person before.
The first thing I did was find L's mom, so I could share my observations with her. Because I think it's important for moms to hear good reports about their children...
And the second thing I did - just before the group left us Monday afternoon - was to call L over and have her sit down in front of me. I looked into her eyes and said, "L, I've been watching you here today, and I think God has given you a special gift. I think He has made you able to care for people and to love them well. I hope you will keep doing that for the rest of your life."
The smile on her face was a treasure to behold. But the greater joy for me is the hope that L will hold those words in her heart and remember them throughout her life. That God will use my words to encourage L to keep on loving. That when L walks into a day where she's feeling discouraged and unlovely, she'll remember "that lady" who saw something remarkable in her young life - and she'll choose to love.

Whenever possible, speak into a young person's life.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

HE Fulfills My Desires

So, what have we learned this week?

I want to be known, and I want to be special.
And when I was first realizing those desires, part of me felt ashamed. How self-centered of me, I thought. What a huge indication that I still have so far to go in learning to be self-less, and more like Jesus.
Until.
Until I felt God speaking to my heart asking me, What if it was I who gave you those desires? What if you are that way, because that's how I made you? And what if, My dear, what if I am the One who can fulfill those desires?

Ahhhhh. Spend some time pondering those questions!
I thought about my year of memorizing Psalm 139. I remembered how much it delighted me to realize how deeply God knows me. He knows my thoughts, my actions, my whereabouts. He knows my words - before I even say them. He knows what scares me, and what gives me hope.
Oh, He knows so.much.more than just my name. I am fully known by my Father.

Then I thought about one of my favorite Bible verses.

Zephaniah 3:17 ~

The LORD your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will quiet you with His love. He will rejoice over you with singing.

I have often been drawn to the image of God holding me in His mighty arms, quieting my anxious heart, and singing to me. I see the love in His eyes. I feel the tenderness of His touch. I hear the delight in His voice.
Is there any greater picture of "special"?
I think NOT.

And in that moment, I stopped being ashamed.
I want to be known.
I want to be special.
And I am not ashamed to admit it.
My Father in heaven has created me with these desires, because He created me to be in relationship with Him. And, while I'll have glimpses of happiness when these desires are met briefly on an earthly basis, I am rejoicing in the Truth that God fulfills them completely.
For all of eternity.

Have you ever considered the depth with which God knows you? Are you aware how special you are to Him? How does that make you feel?

I Want to be Special

Continuing on my little journey of self-discovery...

In addition to realizing I want to be known, I recently concluded I also have a desire to be special.

When Brian and I were on our cruise last month, we had the most delightful waitress. Her name was Lisabeth, and she was from Chile. I looked forward to dinner every night - not because I was hungry (Because, really, who gets hungry on a cruise? There's food everywhere!) - but because I was happy to see Lisabeth. She was charming and sweet and funny and cute, and she always made me smile. She was perfect for her job, and she really *made* the cruise for me.
And the thing is? I wanted to be a blessing back to her. I wanted to shine a light for her - like she did for me. I wanted her to be as happy about that 8:00 seating as I was. I wanted to make a difference in her life. To be special to her.
However, in the weeks following my vacation, I've lost that hope. I tried unsuccessfully to find Lisabeth on Facebook. Thought it would have been fun to stay in touch with her, and hopefully build into her life that way. But that isn't going to happen.
And I've realized she may well have forgotten me by now. She's had five weeks' worth of cruises since I was on the Serenade of the Seas. She's been busy delighting other travelers - suggesting appetizers and dinners and desserts, and telling her silly stories to bring laughter and joy to lots of other people. Hopefully, they have also been treating her kindly and making her feel like the treasure she is.
I'm sure in the midst of all that interaction with other people, Lisabeth has pretty much forgotten about "Karen from Michigan". I suppose I was special to her during the week of my cruise, but other people have taken on that role since then.
Hey, they've paid for it, and they deserve it. *wink*
Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little sad at the thought that Lisabeth probably doesn't remember me with fondness anymore. And admitting that sadness to myself is what made me realize that desire deep within me. The one which cries out, I want to be special!
And I don't mean a selfish kind of desire to be special - because you want to be the center of attention, or something. I mean the kind of special which makes a person glad they have known you. The kind of special that makes another person smile when they think of you - because you're a treasure to them. That's the kind of special I want to be. Are you with me?

C'mon back tomorrow so I can wrap these reflections up with the assurances God has been putting in my heart over the past several days.

I Want to be Known

Last Friday I walked into the bank and stood in line with several other customers. I observed the other people, read the news scrolling across the TV screen, and tried ever so diligently to be patient. (It was a slow line, and I was tired.)

Finally, it was my turn.

I looked up and met the teller's eyes as he said, "Hi, Karen. How may I assist you today?"

And that nearly did me in.

I thought to myself, He knows my name! I'm not just another deposit to make, or check to cash. I'm a person, and he knows my name!
I know bank tellers and cashiers and many other customer-service-type-folk often use your name after you've handed them something with your name on it. They can read, and it is appropriate for them to use your name after they've read it. I think it's a nice touch.
But Lionel (I read his name tag!) said my name before I even approached the counter.
He knew my name, and that made me feel so happy.

I have thought about this interaction several times over the past few days. And each time I consider the delight I felt because someone knew my name, I realize one of my great desires:
I want to be known.
I'm not talking about "known" as in being famous. I don't mean my desire is for "Karen Hossink" to be the name which comes to mind whenever a woman thinks of someone she'd like to invite to her church to speak to a ladies group. Although that'd be OK with me. *wink*
I mean I want to be known, as in - I don't want to be just another customer at the bank, or member in the pew at church, or mom in line for conferences. I don't want to be anonymous, just another face in the crowd. I am somebody - a unique individual - and I want someone to KNOW me.
And Friday, when Lionel called me by name, I felt known.
I wasn't "Next!" or "Ma'am" or "Good afternoon".
I was "Karen".
And he knew it.

How about you? Can you relate to this desire to be known?

When We Don't Understand

Trimming Truffles

Last weekend Elizabeth was really excited. She had an idea for what she wanted to make Nick (a.k.a. "Beau") for Valentine's Day. And, you know, my girl never does anything "small".
She wanted to make truffles to take to Nick when she visits him this weekend.
Seems she did some internet searching and found three amazing recipes for amazing truffles. And she wanted to make all of them.

As Elizabeth was going over the recipes and making a list of the ingredients she would need to buy, she began to be discouraged. Because the list was long.
So, she thought about it, and came up with a solution.
She said to me, "Will you tell me which ingredients I need to buy, and which ones you would be willing to buy?"
Her question led to a short conversation about her money situation - what she had, and what she needed. Seems she had enough money to buy all the ingredients, but she also needed money to buy other things. And she didn't think she had enough for ALL of it.
Honestly? It wouldn't have been a real big deal for me to purchase some of the ingredients for her, but I was seeing a bigger picture than just the truffles for Valentine's Day. (Besides the fact that I wasn't sure how Elizabeth would have enough time to make all three of those recipes without putting herself under unnecessary stress.) So I told her I wasn't going to buy any of the ingredients. And I suggested it might be a better idea to only buy what she could afford. Perhaps she could make two of the recipes, rather than all three.
After another short conversation, we settled on two of the recipes (i.e. We "trimmed" the truffles.) and Elizabeth bought her ingredients. And she was able to purchase the other things she needed.

So, Nick ~ sorry about some of your treats getting nixed. I'm sure they would have been delicious and you would have thoroughly enjoyed them. But I thought it more important to help Elizabeth make wise choices, than for you to have three kinds of truffles. I'm hoping to help your future *wife* learn about fiscal responsibility.
You're welcome. ;o)

Beloved

"What is my beloved doing in my temple as she works out her evil schemes with many? Can consecrated meat avert your punishment? When you engage in your wickedness, then you rejoice."

Jeremiah 11:15

I read the above verse last week and had to quickly re-read it.

Did God really just call the people of Judah beloved?

I asked that question because in the verses just before 15, the LORD was detailing Judah's wickedness toward Himself, and their affiliation to false gods. How, then, I wondered, could HE call them 'beloved'?
These people had acted disobediently - over and over again. Just like their forefathers. God had repeatedly called them to repentance, sent prophets to speak Truth to them, and warned them of impending disaster if they did not turn from their wicked ways. Yet, they continued in rebellion. To the point that God was just about to bring on the anguish He'd threatened.

So, WHY was He calling them 'beloved'???

I was so stuck on that word.

And, I think God was similarly stuck on loving His people.

HE saw their wickedness and rebellion, yes. HE hated their detestable sins, yes.
But nothing could mar God's love for His children.
Nothing.

Even as God carried out His righteous wrath, He remembered His love for His people.
Always with reconciliation in mind.
Always desiring for His wayward children to come back home.

Because they were His beloved.

Beloved.

Do you recognize 'beloved' as your name today?
No matter what you have done, or how far you have strayed from God, He loves you.
You are His beloved. He made a way for you to be reconciled with Himself through Jesus Christ. You have been forgiven by the blood of Jesus, as He shed it on the cross for you.
Now, will you receive this gift of redemption and take your place as His beloved?

I'm a Word Nerd

I am not sure when it started.
For as long as I can remember I have loved words, and word games.
Word searches, crossword puzzles, word jumbles, and cryptograms. Give me a newspaper, and the first thing I look for are these word-things.
Yeah, I know a newspaper has lots of other words in it.
But I like the fun aspect of words. Puns, word-plays, and the like.

However, I didn't realize how serious my addiction is until I was recently compelled to buy a book. Simply because of a unique word-thing.
I read a blog post somewhere entitled, "The 10 Most Difficult Books to Write". One of the books featured in the post was called Gadsby, and the thing which made that book so difficult to write is the fact that the author completely left out the letter "e". From the entire novel!
I couldn't even imagine attempting such a thing and felt I had to read that book.
So I quickly got on Amazon and ordered myself a copy.

Gadsby was written in 1939 by Ernest Vincent Wright and is a charming story about a little town and the people who live there. I noticed a funny thing about myself, though, as I read the tale. Page after page, I realized I was far more concerned about determining where the author was avoiding use of words containing the letter "e" than I was interested in following the story-line.
Sometimes it was easy to spot. Like when he wrote "Dumbo's cousin" instead of "elephant", or "grand church ritual" instead of "wedding".
But other times I had to guess.
Did he write "hard, gruff ways" to avoid saying "stern"?
Was "big shouting officials" meant to replace "policemen"?
And so I read - enjoying the story, but having a lot more fun guessing where an "e" might have been used had Mr. Wright not taken on his challenge.

Now you know how a Word Nerd has fun. *wink*

How Can I be Faithful?

Lessons From the Edge

A woman has the right to change her mind.

I don't know if the woman whose mind changed was D's, or her daughter's. But somebody changed her mind, and D didn't move out last Friday.
I have been a very happy girl this week. Every time I saw, spoke with, or hugged D.

And hopefully I will have a special video to share with you in a few weeks - in which you'll get to see D for yourself.
We're having fun at Edgewood, and I am so glad for this lesson:

A woman has the right to change her mind.

Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

Another Thing a Friend Would Do

A few years ago I wrote a post about What a Friend Would Do.
A little attempt at humor, mixed with a plea for honesty among friends.

Monday afternoon while I was in the kitchen making dinner, my daughter and her friend were together at the table. And I observed another thing a friend would do.
But this time it isn't humorous.

Elizabeth was holding Snickers, and she was crying. And Michaela said, "C'mon. Don't cry!" But Elizabeth couldn't help it. Snickers (Elizabeth's pet rat) didn't look good. She was cold and not moving much, and Elizabeth was certain Snickers was about to die.
I had gotten a small towel in which Snickers was now wrapped, and Elizabeth was trying to warm up her furry little friend. She also needed to finish cleaning Snickers' cage - getting it comfy and ready so Snickers could rest again. But Snickers was cold, and Elizabeth wanted her to get warm.
So she asked Michaela, "Will you hold her while I finish her cage?"

Honestly? I don't think Michaela was super excited about snuggling with Snickers. She doesn't quite have an attachment to that critter like Elizabeth has. But Michaela is Elizabeth's BFF, so she set her homework aside and welcomed Snickers into her own arms.
And that's when I saw it.
That other thing a friend would do.
A friend would put aside whatever she's doing to help you in a moment of need. Even if that means holding your rat.

What remarkable thing has a friend done for you when you needed her support?

Why I'll Let My Son Fail

Yesterday my son wanted to skip first hour.
He had a math test and - though he had spent a great deal of time studying Monday night - he didn't feel ready for the test. He wanted to stay home and have more time to study. But I said, "No."
In mock astonishment my son said, "You mean, you want me to fail? I'm going to fail this test!"
I didn't say anything. Because everything I wanted to say was stuff he wouldn't want to hear. So I just remained quiet and held my ground.
Within minutes, he walked out the door to go to school.

The answer to my son's question is "no".
No, I did not want him to fail his math test. But I was willing to let him fail it. Because, honestly? Monday night was the first time I have seen him study math in a very long time.
I know he goes to math class every day, and the teacher presents new information, and he gets assignments. Every day. And, every day he could take his math book out at home and study those new concepts until he has mastered them. Then, when test day came along there would be no need for a major cramming session the night before.
But my son chooses not to operate in that manner.
Instead, he waits until the last minute to try to understand these things he should have been learning for weeks.
Don't get me wrong. I am happy to help him with the understanding, and Monday night I went over several problems with him. As did his sister.
But I will not play a part in teaching him that doing things "last-minute" is the way to succeed. This boy is half way through his eleventh year of school. He knows about homework and testing and how to be prepared. I am finished hounding him about it. At this point, I'm leaving it up to him to decide how to prepare.
If he doesn't want to put effort into learning the material until the night before a test? Fine. But I am not going to allow him to skip first hour (or second, or third, or fourth...) so he can have extra time to learn the stuff he should have been learning all along. In that case, yes, I'll let him fail. Because I know when he gets out into the "real" world he isn't going to be able to skip whatever so he can try to prepare for that which he should have been preparing for a very long time.

It just doesn't work that way "out here".

I want to let my son fail now - while it's still safe for him to do so. Because I realize, in order for him to learn - it might require failure. Goodness knows, he won't learn from me and take my advice. He's a teenager, after all.
(I was a teen, too, you know. I remember thinking my parents knew nothing.)

So, there you have it. The reason I will let my son fail.
Because I love him, and I want him to learn how to succeed.

Survive This

My baby girl is growing up.

She's going to be eighteen in just over two months.
She'll graduate from high school a little more than a month after her birthday.
Then it'll just be a matter of three or four months until she leaves for college.
And who knows how often and for how long she'll be "home" after that???

I've known this part of life was coming.
Indeed, I've known since the day I learned I was pregnant that this girl is not my own, and my role is to raise her and prepare her for life beyond these four walls.
And I'm OK with that.
I know when Elizabeth is out "on her own" she will still need her mommy sometimes, and I fully intend to continue playing that role.

But recently, something happened for which I was not prepared, and it has affected my feelings about letting my girl go.
Elizabeth was gone for the weekend and, as Brian and I and the boys sat around the dinner table, something very strange happened to the conversation. Seemingly from out of nowhere, the guys started talking about scratching their *ahem!* balls. (Or nuts, or nads...they used all the terms.)
And when they saw my reaction, they kicked it into high gear.
As if they were thoroughly enjoying my lack of comfort or desire to hear more.
Their laughter and camaraderie was quite a thing to observe, as they built on one another's jokes and comments to create their own little comedy show. Somewhere deep down in my heart, I'm sure I was treasuring the male-bonding which was taking place before me. But on the surface, while I considered the reality that one day soon this will be my reality - three males in the home, plus little ol' solitary female-me - I could only think one thing: I'm scared.

Oh, mothers of all-boy-households, how - tell me how - do you do it???