Walk Worthy

I was extremely distracted.
Felt guilty because I didn't want to be there.

Last Sunday morning in church, right on the front row, I thought of absolutely 100 things except what Bro. David was preaching about.

It wasn't his sermon on Ephesians 4 or his style that had my mind wandering, it was that:

1. Abby was due home after 2 weeks of summer camp.
2. Abby and I had not done hardly any communicating during those two weeks (very unusual)
3. The past two times I had spoken with her, she had been in tears.
4. Jae's memorial softball tournament was happening 20 miles away without me. I needed to be there. It's rude to have 100 volunteers working at the event and me not be there.
5. We had a guest music director (which was why I felt I couldn't miss church). Extremely nice man, but unfamiliar music directors are stressful on lil 'ole piano players like me.

All of the above combined made for a "restless listen".

Then,...yesterday,....I began to remember the scripture passage of his sermon.

Walk worthy of our calling.
Walk worthy.

The verses beg us to "walk worthy of the high calling which we have received."

To "walk" means we are going somewhere.
It's intentional and directional.
It's active.

I've been given a gift of a very high calling. God Himself has called me to live (walk) for Him and do the things He wishes me to do.
I'm a servant of the King.

He has lovingly called my name.
I need to remember to walk each moment in a way that brings Him pleasure.

Walk.

Worthy.

I've thought of that phrase almost every hour for two days.

The written word of God is a living thing which can re-enter my mind hours after I tuned it out.
Thanks to Bro. David for the passage.

Thanks to my Lord and Savior for loving me in spite of my messy self.

A Night of Russell Comedy

Tuesday night was our traditional North Pulaski Band Christmas Concert. Since yours truly is the band booster President, I wanted to support the program and our fantastic directors by being available for any all things.
Ended up I was not needed at all.
So.
I sat in the auditorium and enjoyed our 6th grade band. (see my big eyed expressions here?)
I sat through the 7th grade band.
Then the Middle School Jazz Band. (I'm beginning to smile now)
Then the Middle School Concert Band which meant that Abby's band would play next!

Let me pause here and say: The progress from a 6th band to a high school band is nothing short of an incredible miracle. Props to all the kids who stick it out as well as to the band directors who dream big and inspire teens with raw musical talent.
You know how great musicians are made? Someone, usually a teacher,...endured, persevered and developed these kids when they were not great musicians.

Anyway, as I'm sitting in the audience, my cell rings and Abby is hysterical on the other end as she relays to me that she forgot the dress code for the night was a black and white affair and she was in a green short scoop-necked sweater dress.
This friends, is a wardrobe, social as well as an academic disaster.

I exit the auditorium and realize that I am wearing black and white.

We meet in the bathroom where 5 minutes later she exits in my black slacks and white tee and I head straight for my car in a short scoop necked green sweater dress. (I just happen to have boots on under my slacks.)

*Ralph loved my outfit and couldn't understand why I would leave.
I think he now has an idea of what to buy me for Christmas.

*I left because I was afraid that suddenly our band director would need an announcement from the booster president and I'd have to get on-stage wearing a green sweaterdress miniskirt with boots.

Later that night, I am on YouTube looking for a song to place on this blog.

I thought I typed in the "The 12 Days of Christmas".

Instead, I made a typo and accidentally went to this:

Three days. Three Daughters.

I'm wore out.

Friday night. Abby Night
She is inviting her marching band to our home after the home games.
"The whole band?" I confirmed a few weeks ago.
There's about 110 kids in it.
To prepare, we began "re-doing" the back room a few weeks ago . Finally finished (more-or-less) and the outcome is surprisingly cool. I was pretty skeptical of her dark gray, teal and pink color scheme. As she suspected, Friday night came and they did NOT all show up.
We're still eating the food.

Anyway,...big night,...lots of prep and I'm tired.

Saturday. Casey day.
She volunteered to be stage crew for CityFest in Little Rock.
The organizers saw her application, called her up and asked to take a huge position (no pay, no authority) as one of the main volunteer coordinators.
Yep,..for the entire event.
I was her assistant.
For the entire day yesterday, my main job was to do whatever Casey told me to do. It was kinda neat seeing her in charge and watching her network with other key players in the large event.
One of the volunteers had no one on her team show up as scheduled, so Casey sent me a "quick!" order to assist with decorating the hospitality room for the artists/bands.
Seriously?
Of all the things I can do and I'm asked to go decorate?
Their desperation was apparent.

(side story:....a nice looking young band member had a regular lunch with his regular looking parents who evidently had traveled several hours to see his show. Quiet. Normal. Then,..a couple hours later I see that young man on stage in very different apparel, playing the electric guitar and screaming his lungs out to unintelligible head-banging rock music. I heard later that the mom was touched by all the decorations.)

Casey and I began the day around 7:00am and got home around 11:00pm.
Big day. I'm tired.

Sunday. Jae Lynn.
23 years ago today a beautiful young woman gave birth to a baby who was meant for my arms.
My mind is recalling all the birthdays and celebrations that this day has been in our home. Now we spend her birthday going to a nice restaurant,..one of her many faves. Then,..usually around sunset, I will release balloons at her grave.

One of the things about a child's death is that their life seems to lose significance as time passes. Some of you may react to that statement by saying "NO! We'd never forget Jae!"
But remembering a person is different than being significantly changed by them.

My dad crossed into Heaven a couple of years ago. His memory and his significance will live on for generations through those of us who were raised by him.
Children, however, don't often get a chance to leave that strong of a legacy. Their life was often too short and their impact seems to be primarily on those in the family and their close circle of friends.

A child's birth will change us.
Their death, however, will transform a parent to the point where we will say that "we" died.
The transformation, coupled with the pain and fear of loss of significance for our child will compel us to do new things like establish foundations, oversee scholarships, change careers, write, speak and jump flat in the middle of other things that we ordinarily would never do.

Our transformation becomes our child's significance.
These are deep thoughts.
But then,..I'm feeling deep sadness.

I'm tired.
I don't belong here.

Garmins, Deadbolts and Drunks

It's midnight.
It's storming in Virginia.
My daughters have so far, driven 18 hours to get to a town in that state.
At the moment they 2 hours from their destination and lost.
And exhausted.
"Maps? Who needs maps?" they said this morning. "We have the Garmin."

Ralph is trying to find a hotel which is close to where they are.
I am trying to remain calm.
Ralph's hairy daughter is even looking a bit stressed.

Still, as they drive through the darkened sleeping town of Charlottesville, my weary girls have suddenly perked up and are noticing stores and buildings to visit "first thing in the morning".

A phone call just informed us that "they are all locked in for the night".
Finally.
I can rest for the first time since 5 a.m.

(I have emailed Casey a map.)

******addendum to the above:******
text messages arrive to my phone about 20 minutes they are in their room:
Abby: I don't like it here.
me: Why?
Abby: (silence)
Me: ?
Abby: There are men outside our room.
Me: What are the men doing?
Me: Are ya'll locked in with the deadbolt in place?
Abby: Yeah....
Abby: I'm scared mommy.
Me: Did they say anything to you?
Abby: (silence)
Me: Call me.
Abby: I can't. Casey's sleeping.
Me: Well wake her up!
Me: (I try to call her)
Abby: Bad service. Can't answer your call.
Abby: I think they're drunk. They just left.
Me: If Casey is sleeping then it must be safe. Deadbolts are safe too.
Never hesitate to call 911 if you need someone to help you.
Me: TV on?
Abby: No.
Me: Good. You are exhausted. but safe with your sister and your dad and my prayers.
Sleep now. OK?

Silence for the rest of the night.
No rest for me after all....

Lies And Wishes

Tonight, I was pilfering through Jae's room searching for some pictures and Abby came in to talk.
Loooonnnnng conversation.
There were lots of thoughts and questions about what Jae Lynn is like right now.

If you have followed this blog for any time, you will recall that my obsession with Jae's after-death whereabouts led me on an intense and in-depth search for information about Heaven.

That is an understatement.

By no means do I think that I am now an expert, but I have personally come to believe that most of my ideas of Heaven and it's occupants have been based upon wrong theology. As I shared some of my thoughts about Jae and angels and Heaven,...Abby was irritated.
At me.
At all of her past Sunday school teachers.
At our church pastors.
She feels that she has been "lied to".
Then she dismissed most of my observations and told she would believe what she wanted to.
(Deep discussions are never easy with this daughter)

Here in June of 2010, Abby is the age that Jae Lynn was at the time of her accident.
That's a really big deal.
I think that Abby is fully comprehending the loss of her oldest sister more than she has done in past years. It's as if she, 6 years after the loss, knows Jae better now than she did when she was 10.
Devastated at 10 but filled with understanding at 16.

I asked her if Jae was right here with us, what would she say to her?
Her reply was ......."secret things".

I wish I understood life after death.
I'm told to believe and have faith.
I do and I do.

But that doesn't take away the wishing.

Easter 2010

Bob, his handsome sons and mom Below is Lilly's first Easter pictures! (well kinda....)

Ralph's mom and dad

My brothers and me

Aundra was the first brave one of us to get a tattoo after Jae's wreck.

Job tells us in chapter 19 v 25 on that:

For I know that my redeemer lives, and He shall stand at last on this earth; And after my skin is destroyed, this I know, that in my flesh I shall see God.

How my heart yearns within me!

Emma loves Abby.

You can tell the feeling is mutual!

This old house was my grandfathers.

We need to tear it down but none of us really want to.

As I looked through the lens to snap this picture, all I could think of was how badly I wished Jae was there too.

Of course, what's an old house without old furniture to drag out?

Casey made some sort of wrapped jalapeno doo-dads.

Can you smell these steaks?

Bob needed a spray bottle of water. He ran into mom's kitchen sink and found a spray bottle under her sink.

"Is this water?" he asked.

Mom told him she didn't know.

Ya know how Bob found out?

He squirted it in his mouth. "Yep", it's water!" and ran back out the door.

I'm glad it wasn't carpet cleaner or furniture polish.

Bob's a pyro like the rest of us and without a doubt holds the record for having to call the fire department.

The smoke here is from him using his new-found water-squirter.

Our church joined with a sister church to perform a musical. I had a solo!

It's easy to sing when you are backed up by 40 great voices.

Needed my glasses for most of the songs.

This lady is a happy singer. One of my fav people in the whole wide world.

He is risen indeed!

That's my hope!

Abby's Pictures

Amanda and jungle man look as if they are pouting....


Remember I told you that I bought Abby a camera on ebay?
Here are a few of her pics.
She informed that if I were going to post any of her photos that I HAD to post the one below.
She thinks this piece of clover in our front yard is some of her best work.
By the way,...plant expert Janet Carson says that if you have green in your lawn, then it's from weeds. Real grass should still be brown.
Shut-up Janet.

I like this butterfly which is in the tree we planted at Jae's grave.

We go there often,..this day was a clean-up day.

Below is Carter, our grand-nephew!

Abby asked I stick my tongue out.....

Ralph's hairy daughter looks like she doesn't like her scarf

Abby's best friend Amanda is also the best dancer (front and center)

I'd post more, but it's past my bedtime!

Night!

March 17th is Abby's Birthday

Abby Rae.

Sixteen years old.

As she snuggled with me in bed this morning I listed

several of the reasons I am proud of her.

I could list them here, but most would sound exactly

like the reasons any mom feels regarding her child.

For the first year or so of Abby's life, I would frequently ask the rest of the family

"Can you imagine life without her?!"

Most moms know exactly where they were when their children were born, but not so with some of us adoptive moms!

That's why I am grateful for my morning of St. Patricks day 1994.
Sixteen years ago on this day, Jae, Casey and myself stood in front of our bathroom mirror and all spoke about wearing green and pinching people.
Jae was 5 years old and Casey was 4.
Pinching was the big topic of the morning.
It's always a stressful day when us moms have to send our young ones out into the world where pinching is allowed!
So as I brushed their hair we spoke of pinching etiquette.
Things like
*Don't pinch people at all.
*If you have to pinch, make sure they are wearing no green.
*Never ever pinch hard.
*Avoid bullies,..they pinch too hard and try to hurt.
etc.

Unbeknownst to us as we stood in front of that mirror, the youngest member of our family was taking her first breath somewhere miles away.

Weekend Reflections

Went to Fayetteville this week-end to spend time with Casey. The Hogs just happened to play so I watched them too.
Here's some random reflections from the weekend.
**************************************
Casey cleaned her apartment in anticipation of our arrival. Imagine that.

Breakfast at the Cracker Barrel is a great date.

The lady who sat next to me at the football game cried during the National anthem.

Casey's roommate is an Interior Design major. She's been "in studio" now for about 36 hours straight. Her schedule the past two semesters has been insane.
Mama's...don't let your babies grow up to be Interior Designers.

Every single coach and manager on the South Carolina Football team wears their pants about 4 inches too long.

If Jae were still with us, she would more than likely be a senior cheerleader at some university.

Casey plans, travels and roams because she still grieves deeply.

Abby is right now, the same age as Casey was when we lost Jae.

I am reminded that some of the most important jobs I can do or my girls is to pray, love and listen.

Anytime I see sunrises, sunsets, pretty moons, rainbows or storms,..I wonder what it all looks like from Heaven's viewpoint.

I love to come home.

I found out that we now have the BET channel on our TV.

Oh joy. Another channel to block.

Abby still fits nicely in my lap.

And lastly,.....a moment form the Hogs football game that I always look forward to.....

.

What The Teachers Did Right

Our church is hosting a "Teacher appreciation" luncheon for the elementary teachers at our school across the road.
I am bringing crackers.
Crackers.

As I drove home from the grocery store, it occurred to me that crackers is a teeny tiny, too small of a thing to bring to the teachers who invested so much into the lives of my daughters, nieces and nephews.

They pour their lives into my children for years and I bring them crackers?

That's not a fair trade-off.

If Jae, Casey and Abby's teachers were right here in front of me, I would tell them this:

1. Thank you for the field trips, even though they were a lot of trouble. Most were educational, but they all created wonderful memories.
2. Thank you for requiring 30 minutes of reading 5 nights a week. That graded "homework" created a love for reading like no other assignment. You let them read whatever they wanted to and let them keep their own time-sheet. It was homework which created hours of close family time as we lay side-by-side reading books.
3. Thank you for using encouraging endearments and giving them affirming nicknames.
4. Thank you for laughing loudly when they are funny.
5. Thank you for not laughing when they would be embarrassed.
6. Thank you for playing with them at recess and occasionally eating with them at lunch time.
7. Your lesson plans which included art and music were worth the trouble. We talked about those often at our supper table.
8. Thank you for noticing that she needed glasses. How in the world did I miss that?
9. I am grateful that you have not tolerated mean and screaming co-workers in the other class rooms. Your professional peer pressure has kept the standards high.
10. I have been inspired as I observed you show God's love to kids who have never seen it or felt it before.
11. You daily teach and role model some of the most important lessons which are not found in the text-books. Important things such as... how to work through friend-squabbles, how to treat another child who does not wear deodorant and why we should give valentines to every child in the room. Many of the friendships formed in those classrooms have followed them throughout their life.
12. I really appreciatle how you encourasged me to keep "doing music" in their classrooms. I would have quit in a heartbeat if you hadn't told me what a big deal it was to the kids.
13. Your soft touch on their arm or their head has often spoken much louder than your words.
14. Even today, years after leaving your classroom, they love it when they appear in your doorway and you stop your class to introduce them as "one of your favorites".
15. Thank you for letting all of Lauren Lee's classmates skip school for several days after her death. They all desperately needed the time playing together in our yard.
16. It's odd to say that a good memory can be recalled from a child's funeral, but I will forever be grateful for the large number who filed in and sat together at Jae's funeral. Thank you for sobbing with me at such a loss.

Each of my children's paths were nurtured for hours in your care and I truly am grateful for your help as we formed them into the beautiful young women they now are.
They may look ordinary but they are the beloved daughters of the King of all Creation.

This first day of school, as you look out across your classroom full of fresh faces, remember that you are one of the most powerful people in this world.
Your influence will live for generations.

With deep appreciation
and crackers........,

Jae, Casey and Abby's mom

Good Plans

Got my girls on my mind.

Abby.
She's at a new church camp (Camp Windemere in Missouri) which our church has never gone to before. She didn't much want to go to this one because she's enjoyed Mission-Fuge so much the past few years. Levi, bless his heart, put up with intense pressure from the teens to switch camps and go back to Mission-fuge for the millionth year.
Since when did the kids get to thinking they could pick their own church camp?
Did you get to choose your church camp?
NO.
When you and I were kids, we went out and got on the bus to go wherever we were told to go.

Anyway. I want her to come back a world-changer.
That was my "charge" to her. "Make 100 new friends and come back as a world-changer."
That's a good plan.
I think I'll try to do that myself this week.


I'm also worried about
Casey.
She's done an extreme amount of growing up during these weeks in North Carolina. Ralph and I can just tell she is thinking differently than she has before. I've been scared to death, but still am confident that this trip has been a good thing for her.
She's still a server and evidently the Texas Roadhouse in North Carolina does not do the same business as here in Arkansas. She'd starve to death on the money she is making there. Last night, a group of 24 (TWENTY FOUR) women came in and as company policy dictates, Casey had to ask if she could put the automatic gratuity on the tab.
This particular large group said "No".
The grown-up mean girls left her $4.
four.
measly.
dollars.
I have prayed terrible things on each one of their heads.

She is also dealing with roommates that are trying to raise her rent, they smoke weed daily, drink beer for breakfast, lunch and dinner and... AAANNNNDDD.... they have that inside cat.
I told her that it was just too too much.
Just too much.
Under no circumstances should she ever live with a cat!


She passed a yard sale the other day and bought a surf board.
That'll be way useful in Fayetteville. (hee hee)

I think since her good friends on the Razorback Baseball Team have now made it to the college world series, she just may leave N.C. and her Craig's list roommates and head to Omaha to watch them play.
That's a good plan.
Maybe I'll try to do that too.


Jae Lynn
is never out of my mind.
It's like I'm living life with a large black spot in my vision.
No matter which direction I look, I see it everywhere I turn.
Life is certainly good, but it also feels very wrong.
A deep nagging dissatisfaction.
I want to know Jae Lynn as an adult.
I don't want to go on vacation without her.
I wanted my future family get-togethers to be of three daughters with three sons-in-laws.
I wanted to take care of her children.
Instead I must picture her in Heaven, which is still such a mystery to me.
How can she be "gone" from here?
Where is "there"?

Can you imagine your child "gone" and "there"?
No.
You can not.
It's my reality, yet I can't comprehend it.

Heaven.
Now that's a good plan.
"As for me, I will see Your face in righteousness;
I shall be satisfied only when I awake in Your likeness"
Psalm 17:15

Advice and Thanksgiving

So what did I tell Eddie was the single most important piece of advice in raising girls?

Without thinking,... I told him "Grace".
Not just talking about it, but applying it daily to the kids we often get tired of applying it to.

Grace for the ones who stay on the path we have dreamed for them.
Grace for the ones who take a different one which we had hoped for them.
Grace for the ones who create their own path.
Grace for the ones who aren't even looking for a path.

It doesn't matter the age,....the 2 year old needs it just as much as the 20 year old, and come to think of it,..my brothers and I have continued to receive it from our parents,..even at our age!

Speaking this one tiny piece of advice to Eddie last week, reminded me to tell my girls this past week, that I do not expect perfection. It is a challenge for us moms and dads to make sure we deal with our kids based on what we know in our hearts,..and not respond to them because their behavior may hurt our pride. (Our child can not do that,..why,...what would others think?)

I'm pretty much past worrying what others think of my parenting skills of my two daughters. To be honest,..I've already been there, and it was awful.

I still worry about Casey and Abby.
I still nag.
I still get frustrated sometimes.
Some behaviors will require justice,..not mercy.
But I pray that I live out a walking talking example of unconditional love and support. It's not that hard, 'cause they are both incredible girls. I also know that they could be living in someone else's home right now instead of ours.

Holiday's are an excellent time to review the priorities.
A family which loves deeply is a treasure and I am grateful for mine.

Hoxie, Houston and Small Churches

Dear readers,
I have a theological question for you.
I asked my Pastor and some friends this morning and the discussion got very lively.

Is a small church doing something wrong if it is not growing in numbers?

No matter the location.
Here in the Southern U.S. or maybe in the jungles of the Congo.

This all started yesterday when I went to another Band competition with Abby.
The "Fabulous Falcon Marching Band" won FOURTEEN (14!) trophies.

At this competition, there was a itty bitty school called " Hoxie" which had about 15-20 performers/musicians. I missed their performance but I heard that they were wonderful!

Then there was a rich school from Germantown, TN called "Houston High School" with 224 performers/musicians. This band,..man you shoulda seen it! They had synthesisers, electric guitars, scaffolds, smoke machines and an adult "pit crew" who had to set up the field before their arrival. They put on a show which rivals the older university bands I've seen.
(By the way,...the Fabulous Falcon Marching Band won more trophies that Houston)
(stop it Becky. Stop. You're bragging)

If I was a kid from Hoxie, it would be hard to not compare my band program to Houston High's.

Back to the church question.
Is a small church doing something wrong if it is not growing?

(I don't know if my thinking wears other people out, but it sure does me.)

Falcon Marching Band

Blogger's block: When you can't bring your thoughts together where they make a bit of sense.

Actually,..I have a lot of thoughts, but I'm seldom a deep thinker. Listen friend,..if I were to put my thoughts and ideas on here as they cross my mind, you would back away from your computer screen saying, "Yep. I knew it. Here's proof. She's nuts."

This weekend was taken up, and I mean flat taken all up! with the NORTH PULASKI FALCONS HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND. (That's how we like to hear it on the PA system. Loud and enthusiastic). Of course, our band achieved perfection in all of their scores. Their performances are beautiful and amazing to watch.

I recall that special night of Abby's first band concert. I sat in the auditorium expecting to be emotionally moved as I was when I first heard Jae and Casey's first choir performances. (Those two concerts moved me to tears. Young voices singing: Pia Jesu'.....Pia Jesu'.....)

sigh.

Back to the band.

When Abby's band director stepped onto the podium, the choir and audience alike became hushed and still.

She lifted her baton and the students instantly and with precision lifted their instruments to the correct position.

I, and the rest of the audience, seemed to hold our breath in anticipation.

The director swept her hands up and the auditorium was filled with what sounded like a hundred and twenty car horns honking a familiar sounding rhythm.

No kidding.

But that was four years ago.

Today, they are a lean mean competing machine which strikes fear in other high school bands on competition day.

My admiration is deep for Karen Dismuke, the director. You ought to see this phenomenal woman with her students. She's the kind of teacher who we all love to hear about in stories and on TV. She's the whole package,..funny, talented, firm, inspirational, soft and so on.

But hats off as well to Mrs. Koehler who led these students through their horn honking phase. It's no wonder she works along side of Mrs. D. at the competitions! It's the fruit of her hard work in that band room at middle school.

I'm proud of the students too. They are now part of something which is much larger than themselves.

They have students who are:

"Load Masters"-tons of equipment, instruments and a huge trailer.

"Bus Captains" - it takes 3 school buses to take them everywhere.

"Section Leaders" - it's a big band. Small groups can provide motivation/communication.

I've witnessed older students take care of the younger.

Not a lot of popularity issues.

I'm sure the high school "drama" is there,..but not on the level I've seen in other student groups.

Spending the day at War Memorial stadium filled with 2000 musically talented teenagers, 100 or so of whom I love,.....

now that's what I call a good day.

I'll talk to you soon.

Our Camera, Our Routine

There is a need for a camera.
The camera is lost.
The search begins.
The opportunity and need for a photograph is over.
Days pass.
The house gets cleaned and the camera is found.
The battery is dead.
The charger cord is lost.
The search begins.
Days go by.
Finally the camera and the cord are brought together.
The camera is now ready to be used.
Abby sees a newly charged camera.
Abby holds the camera above her head at arms length and takes approximately 350 photos of herself.
The camera loses it's charge and so she puts it down.
Days go by.
There is a need for a camera.
The camera is lost.
The search begins.

Abby In Glorietta

Abby is leaving early in the morning for church camp.

Glorietta, New Mexico.

As you can tell,..her preparations have begun.

Don't all of us begin packing for a long trip by dragging out everything we own, throwing it on the bed near a suitcase way too small, and then making a ceiling mobile out of "monster" energy drink cans?

I have prayed for it to be the best trip of her entire young life. I have always told the girls that "God doesn't necessarily talk to us louder or more when we are at church camp,..but we are better listeners when we are there."

I remember vividly sitting in our youth room in the early 1970's and broaching the subject of our church youth group going to Glorietta, New Mexico. We might as well have asked to go to the other side of the world.

Getaways should not be just for kids and teenagers. I think that adults need to go somewhere every year to Church camp. A whole week of worship, powerful speakers, fresh friendships, new location and time to listen to God.

Can you imagine how spiritually tanked up our families and churches would be?

Would God speak louder to us if we went somewhere new or would we just be better listeners?

Does it matter?

Either way,...it would be life changing.

Just like it used to be.

Pray for our young brothers and sisters who will be on the road tomorrow.

May they never be the same.

A New Sister

There is a verse somewhere in the New Testament (feeling guilty about not knowing the address) about "being ready in season and out of season to give a good word" .
Tonight I was dog-tired and starved but found myself unexpectedly taking home a car load of teenagers after church tonight. This old woman had not been home in 15 hours and I was feeling it.
Abby was in the front seat with me and only one girl left in the backseat of my car. Her home was on the other side of Jacksonville.
Oh boy.
Three-Dog-Night blaring from the car speakers (I like those boys singing LOUD!)
C-130's buzzing overhead.
Then I hear this little voice pipe up from the back seat and mention
"I've been feeling like I need to come closer to God".

We pulled to car over at the closest safe area so I could look her in the eyes as I told her about Jesus and His incredible plan for us to be brought to God.
Do you know where her first prayer and her salvation occurred?
Directly under my tree with my special "wonderfully different limb" that I blogged/wrote about on Saturday, April the 5th.
Really.

The most profound eternal life and death issue that this beautiful young girl will ever face is instantly entrusted to Abby and I.

And Three-Dog-Night.

Mother's Day

Never has a holiday moved me through so many deep emotions.

I remember when I was was little, the day was memorable because David, Bobby and I would all go out to our yard and clip a red rose off of one of our bushes. We got to wear red because it symbolized that our mom was still alive. I always felt for my mom, because daddy always had her a white corsage, which carried the symbolism of a mother who had died. I couldn't imagine a life without a mother.

Then after 7 years of marriage, Ralph and I had become desperate for a child of our own. (Well,..I was that way,....Ralph may not have classified himself as desperate.) The last verses of Psalm 127 seemed to mock me.
For some reason,...God was not "blessing our quiver". There were babies getting aborted, murdered and abused everywhere, yet, our arms were full of emptiness.
Following God was obviously not a guarantee of His blessing. I was confused.
Mother's day became a day of pain and all the celebrations rubbed salt in my broken heart.

Then,... the first Mother's day after adopting Jae Lynn.
There was not another Mother alive who praised God more for the joy and blessing of my daughter. I was overwhelmed with the love she inspired in me and I felt as if life would forever be good because Jae Lynn was in it.
Then Casey and Abby are born, adopted and blessed into my life and wonder of all wonders!...
How can this be?
Love is never divided, it is multiplied?
Only God could create such a deep capacity for something unseen.
I never took any Mother's day for granted. I still wore a red rose and now I had three children who called me mom.
My quiver was full.

Then Jae is killed at 16 years old, and Mother's day occurs two months later.
I celebrate with dinner at my mom's, receive gifts from Casey and Abby and then go to a cemetery to spend time near my oldest blessing.
Graves are sad places during the holidays, but the grave of a child is an area of desolation.
I am sure my cries could be heard over all the city.

Today, while at work, someone wished me a "Happy Mother's Day" and then asked me how many children I had. As usual, I answered that I have three daughters.
I was then asked various questions about them, and I was able to have a long conversation about the girls without having to disclose that one of them now lived in Heaven. This person, a stranger, thought Jae Lynn was still alive.
It was comforting to me.

I told a friend recently about a short conversation Abby had with the author John Piper who wrote "90 Minutes in Heaven". Abby asked to go and listen to this man preach and share his testimony, and then she wanted to stay and meet him personally after the service.
We waited until the sanctuary was almost completely empty. Abby walked up to him and with tears in her big brown eyes, leaned up towards him and whispered:
"my sister was killed in a car wreck".

Mr. Piper leaned towards her and whispered back :"Your sister's not dead".


I am still the mother of three.
Two are alive and will be in my kitchen this Mother's Day.
One is alive and in the presence of her Creator and The King of Kings.
My head tells me that Jae is more alive that Casey or Abby.
My heart tells a different story.

Never has a holiday moved me through so may emotions.

Unread Letters

When a letter is sent to someone, it actually means very little if the recipient does not read it. The content may be extremely important, but does it does matter if it never gets opened and read? The letter to my girls was probably read by several people, but not by the two people it was addressed to.
Casey and Abby know my heart. My message is not new. I tell them the same things in person and try to do it often, but a written word is sometimes much more powerful.

It's an easy thing for them to forget who and what they are as they face their day to day culture. Schedules, relationships, school work, and other things scream for their attention.

Often my ideas seem to be out-dated and yes, even irrelevant.
"You know mom, that things are different these days."

The fact that they don't read my blog does not mean that they don't love me. Of course they do! They are satisfied though, with different forms of communication.

I find myself desperate to make them hear,.. and take to heart,..my message. Eventually, as I usually do, I will speak to them the exact same things that I wrote in the letter.

As usual, I considered how this all was similar to my relationship with Christ. My Father has His heartfelt life changing message written directly to and especially for little ole' me.
Ready for me to open it and read.

Yet, I can go for days at a time without even opening His letter.

I am doing better than I used to, but still need more. Even a small amount of time spent reading His letters has a profound impact on me. His encouraging words change my thoughts and my daily responses to people and situations. Even though the things I read are not new.

One of my patients told me this morning that he needed his birthday suit ironed because it was full of wrinkles. Oh how I can identify with his funny statement! However, it is comforting to know from 2nd Peter, that our birthday suits may wrinkle, but our hearts grow more beautiful as we follow Christ.

A letter to my girls

Dear Casey and Abby,


Here we are in a weekend which just happens to be the end of one semester and the beginning of the next. Grades have been earned, scores are posted, and this Monday you get to start over with a new slate of classes, teachers (sometimes) and hopes. Your daddy and I are proud of both of you and will continue to support you as you sit through the grind of an education. Some people talk about the thrill of learning,..but we know that oftentimes the tedium of the classroom far outweighs the joy of learning.

One of my resolutions this year was not related to school work at all. It is to encourage both of you to live your life stronger for God. My encouragement comes not because either of you are living a life of sin, but more because I have been convicted recently that this "taking up my cross daily" business is pretty hard work. If God's will was all clearly spelled out for you, following Him may be easier. Instead, He asks you, no, He longs and desires that you be Faithful to His word.

Communicating with Him through the Bible and prayer is when you will find the way to the joy and abundant life that He promises. It's not rocket science. They do not seem to be a flashy way to success, but trust your mom here,...they work.

When either of you leave for any reason through our kitchen door to go out, I always call out to you my love and concern "I love you!" "Please be careful!"
You and I know full well the meaning of those parting words.

What if God Himself were sending you out our kitchen door? He may call out things like:

"Don't forget to love those who you come into contact with today! Especially those who are hurting or are unlovely!"

"Be on guard Casey and Abby, you can not imagine how bad Satan wants to attack you"

"I am waiting right here girls for you to call out. If you need me, I will there instantly!"

"People everywhere are watching you. Please know that you are a direct reflection of Me"

"Look in the mirror and check your heart!"

God's plans for your life are way bigger than mine.

Heaven is closer than you think.

Fear nothing when you are following Him closely, and be terrified when you are not.

Your daddy and I love you with all that we are.