And he can find her dead body in the parking lot of the crazy dentist.

As she chewed her calcium supplement, chocolate flavor, because bone health is super important at her age..... she heard a loud crack.  And shuddered to think... To think that it might be,  THE TOOTH.  The tooth that led her to the scary dentist the first time.  The dentist that didn't know what the $%#@ he was doing and gave her 2 injections of that stuff that numbs the mouth.

But the scary dentist didn't listen when she said she couldn't feel her face.  And he shot her again.  A second time.  And he got out his sharp tools that make haunted house noises and filled her cavity.  Proud of himself and his young dentist skills, he sent her away.  But she still couldn't feel her face.  The entire right side of her face.  And suddenly she could no longer blink.  Full frontal half face paralysis, I think the diagnosis would be.  Eye drying out like a fish out of water - except for the tears of terror thinking she was having a stroke in the dentist parking lot.  Had she known what she knows now - that he was just an inexperienced dentist kind of crazy - she would've marched her half numb face and slurring words back into his office and yelled to him that he is a monster.  And that all this must be some sort of cruel joke, a Halloween spooky tale.  The one about the lady who can no longer blink, and slurs her words like a drunk.

But she didn't go back in.  Afraid she might drool in public, she chose to stay in the car and dial her emergency professional husband.  And tell him that she may or may not be having a stroke and he can find her dead body in the parking lot of the crazy dentist. 

But husband sent her on her way. Driving home with one eye stuck all the way open and a bottle of eye drops for frequent moisture. And to avoid a collision. 

And she arrived home still in a panic.  But thankful for the contractor there painting her bathroom.  And she pathetically entered the house, told the man that though she looks like a freakish tale from beyond, husband feels with complete confidence that she won't die anytime soon.  But to be on the lookout just in case.  And she tells the man how thankful she is that he is there.  And to report her death as needed.  But to go on ahead and finish painting the bathroom.  Because it's looking really good.

And in the end.... about 2 hours later, the numbness wore off and her blink returned.  And she was no longer the freakish lady in the red brick house.  She was home.  And had walked through a nightmare with a brand new filling in her back molar.  

And this Halloween, following the loud cracking sound of the tooth... she decided that maybe calcium chews and bone health aren't really all that important for now.  And that maybe she'll move on to the big bowl of trick or treat candy to test out the tooth instead. 

Y'all meet my husband.

On my mind today is my husband, and how I haven't properly introduced him to y'all. Our 14th anniversary just came and went  - and he's kinda' stuck with me forever so he totally deserves a blog post.

He's a super brave and strong firefighter and paramedic.  Spending his days saving lives, property, and the occasional wildlife.  Saved this little guy from a fireplace.

And the man is full of patience and pretty much knows when to just find his happy place and shut out the craziness we live in.  Though I'm sure he had some secret thoughts round about the 5th time I had an incident/accident in the new car.  He makes this one particular sound..... and I usually know when to expect it.  (Cue the list of car mishaps.)   It's kind of a giant exhale, groan sort of noise.  Reminds me of the old I Love Lucy show when Ricky yells at Lucy,.. "You've got some splainin to do!"  

So I waited a few weeks to tell him about this last one... you know... just waiting for the right mood.  Full belly and all.  Only a reflector lost this time.  Nothing like when the lady on her way to a funeral crashed into the back, or the time I left my purse in the front seat at kid baseball and a desperate, crazy man destroyed the entire door to get in there for it.  And then there was that time in the Marshalls parking lot.... where someone forgot to put their truck in park and it rolled right into our brand new, just a few week old car.  So really, ... a lost reflector from a little bump this time is nothing.  (A lady in my class just told me she took a long road trip with her husband.  And that her kids told her to have a divorce lawyer on speed dial just in case.  And I was totally thinking the same thing as I drove home from work just now. Having to tell him that the car is making a funny smell.  Now granted, my aerobic pants weren't all that fresh after 3 classes but that wasn't it.)  

I've known David since we were kids and have never seen anything bring him to his knees quite like a morning of getting the kids ready for school.  Those times in particular I think he wishes being a fireman was a non stop job instead of the 24 on/48 hours off that it is.  Or he wishes he could just be very still and we wouldn't notice he's here till the boys get out the door. 

Super nice guy.  Everyone says so.  Until one of our kids complains about having scrambled eggs for breakfast for the 1000th time in a row.  Then daddy kinda' looks like this.....

And he tells them that children all over the world would love to wake up to a hot breakfast every day and that they should count their lucky kid stars that they live in a family that doesn't just put out a box of frosted flakes every morning.  There are starving children in Africa who would love some scrambled eggs, don't ya know. 

But mostly he looks like this.... loving on his family.  And taking care of us and being the gift to us that he is.  

My words have gone on an island vacation.

I wish I could say that I loved volunteering for the school carnival for the 8th year in a row.  I wish I could say that I wanted to bake all that stuff for the OTHER school event the day before.  And I wish I could say that I still had the same volunteer spirit and motivation that I had when my kids first started school.  But the truth is... I'm tired.  I'm burned out.  I'm happy to share the work load with the newer parents.

I wish I could say that my son didn't spend a miserably wet weekend camping with scouts.  But he did.  And I was worried sick about the severe weather and wished he was home.  I'm weak that way.  I also wish I didn't have to do all the camping laundry.  But I do, and I am. 

I wish I wasn't worried about my youngest at his second sleepover ever... and as we speak, partying on a karaoke party bus with 12 of his closest 10 year old friends. 

I wish I didn't eat so much sugar this weekend.  But I did. 

And I wish that man at the grocery store didn't mistake my cart for his and stick things I didn't even mean to buy in there.  DO NOT touch a woman's grocery cart uninvited.  Now I wish I didn't have to go back and return stuff to the store.  But I do.  And I will. 

Just little inconveniences.  That seem to grow when I'm tired or just in a mood.

And I've been in that same mood for a bit now.  I feel like my words have gone away on an island vacation and left me here with the laundry and dishes.   And that even if I had words, maybe they aren't super powered vitamin filled insightful useful and wanted words. And  I feel like someone around here better do something funny really fast.

Because a woman's heart feels lonely sometimes.  And tired sometimes.   And a mom's heart feels the same, but with the added bonus of worry and hope kinda all mixed together in a worry + hope soup.  But my heart, filled with all of that bigness, still has room for this.... thankfulness for the little things that make the other stuff feel.... not so big.  Not so bad.  Not so tiresome and inconvenient.

Thankful that my son was cared for by his scout leaders in the bad weather and all made it home safe.  Home is good.  Thankful for a special date night with kid 2.    My sweetheart that will eat vegetarian with me and let me choose the movie.  He's gonna make a great husband one day.  Thankful that my little guy and I made an apple pie this afternoon.  Just because he wanted to.  And that made me want to. 

So maybe this funk I've been in lately is one of those necessary times.  To make me look for the good when my mood keeps looking for the bad.  What if these quiet times, when I quit talking for a while, are the times God needs me to listen? 

Sometimes prayers are just words.

Today was date day Wednesday with my husband.  We entertain each other while the kids are at school on Wednesdays and we're both off work.  Saves on childcare costs and keeps us out of trouble.   Sometimes we see movies, sometimes we take walks, ... and food is usually involved each time.  Today we saw the movie Gravity with Sandra Bullock.  And in one line of the movie she says, "I've never prayed...  No one ever taught me how."

And I thought about how many people never pray, have never prayed, and/or don't want to or know how to pray.  And I know some people pray with more of a recited prayer specific to a situation.  And I've read some absolutely beautiful ones.  But I grew up Baptist.  And we just pray as it comes.  Free style.  Improv.  Usually thanking God for things and asking him for others.  But really, unscripted.   

I'm trying to teach my kids to pray, by just doing it with them.... and I'm still learning it myself.  Hoping this will be as much a part of their routine as is any other. But I hope they'll want to do it.  That it will serve a purpose and a place in their lives.  Far beyond the dinner and bedtime prayers. 

For me it comes and goes. And, telling the truth - sometimes a prayer is just a bunch of words.  The end of a long day when I just want the kids to go to bed and everyone get to sleep.  

But I've felt the power of a prayer truly and fully prayed.  I've prayed with and over my boys,  and I've cried with a heart of joy to be given such a privilege.  

I've prayed hurtful, begging prayers to make IT - something, whatever - go away.  To calm the storm that has thrown me from my safe boat.  

I've prayed to be better, more secure and confident.  For peace and forgiveness.  I've prayed thankfully and joyfully...... and selfishly.  

And I know without a doubt that when I forget to pray or choose not to, all hell's gonna break loose sooner or later. 

I recently read a Southern Living magazine article about the tradition of prayer being passed from generation to generation.  Specifically, in this article, they discussed the Thanksgiving meal prayer.  About how so many of us have learned the same words and phrases, the same technique of praying.  "We thank you God for these, your many blessings....."  

And then there's the standard kid mealtime prayers.  We had 3 different ones going at our dinner table growing up.  And we each took turns.  Or we didn't eat.  I remember my sister's old standard, "Thank you for the world so sweet, thank you for the food we eat.  Thank you God for birds that sing,... thank you God for everything."  But I don't even remember my words. Maybe because they were just words. 

Maybe it's an age thing... or a mom thing... but now I enjoy thinking of the words to be spoken in prayer.  And hearing that when I truly have a prayerful heart - or a heartfelt prayer - that the words don't seem to come from me at all.  But from a voice that I can't claim as my own.  

Tomorrow...or soon... I'll share a real prayer I recently said with my boys.  (I said it and then quick wrote it down so I wouldn't forget.)


For your week, ....memories.

I wish I could sit in my grandfather's lap again.  It was always a good place to be. I wish I could have an afternoon snack with my grandmother again... always at 3pm sharp, and always a coke and a Hershey bar.  I wish I could see my dad at the grill - best steak in the world - and smell his cigar smoke on the patio.   I wish I could go to sleep in the same room with my sister again. I wish I could eat my mom's chocolate cake.  And I wish I could hold my babies again - as babies.

The list goes on......

For your week, may you remember good times and together times.  May you find your memories to be a comfort and your days ahead to be memories in the making.    

I could've done laundry....

I could've taken a nap.  Or done laundry.  But instead I chose to see a movie with my 3 boys, out of school today.  And it may have been the most ridiculous movie I've seen in a long time.  Anything for love.  

We had to celebrate.... because today is our anniversary.  Mine and my husband's, but he's at the fire station  - and we go with the business as usual plan around here.  And the wedding anniversary to me is just as much our  family anniversary - because we've done amazing things in the last 14 years.  Three superhero boys, way too many home improvement projects, and lots of together time.  

14 years ago this evening I got married in the living room of our tiny 1100 square foot house.  No guests, no wedding dress, no reception or honeymoon.  Just me, husband and a minister for hire who popped by to make it official.   And not a single picture of the occasion.  

But I didn't want all the typical wedding fuss.  I didn't need it.  I needed this.  

And I have the most important pictures - filling volumes of family albums and my mind with memories of sharing and growing and time beautifully spent. 


I dreamed I tried to quit saying damn so much.

I told a friend recently that if my boys don't do something funny, dangerous or possibly illegal soon that I don't know what my next post will be.  Enter Sam, who told his teacher that we teach him to beat up other kids at will.  He's insane. And he was apparently pretend shooting at something or someone in class last week.  And that didn't go over well, either. (Let's all say a group prayer for his teacher.) 
So David commented a bit on the disadvantages of the school system for boys.  And WE know boys.... they climb, run, wrestle, shoot, and move ... all over the place. All the time.  Hold the wild west show, boys, you're scaring the faint of heart.  He suggested we home school our youngest - the pretend shooter, the fighter.... and I thought, .... sweet mother of Jesus, NO NO NO...we've already taught him to fight and shoot everything - we've given him all we've got.

On another note, Christopher asked what it means to pray God's heart.  Which is funny because that's  the title of my 31 day writing challenge this month - 31 Days of Praying God's Heart for my Children.  So I told him my opinion - that it means to pray for all the good things God has stored in his heart for us.  Praying for it to show in our lives. 

But what have I been showing in mine?  I think I've actually prayed less with the boys as I've written on this subject.  Remember... no experts here in the house of angels, pirates and thieves.  (And I think that who ever dreamed up the 31 day writing challenge has lost her mind and has way too much time on her hands.) 

Last night I had a dream.  I was teaching a step aerobics class teetering on the edge of a winding staircase with a giant alligator running underfoot.  I also dreamed one night that I got a terrible haircut and that I was trying to quit saying damn so much. 

So what's showing?  My fear of alligators and bad hair? Or my insecurities and worries?   

One day when Christopher was in first grade he made it to school with a pair of my panties static cling stuck to his sweater.  And his teacher said he waved them around to the world like a flag.  And sometimes I feel like I'm waving a few of my underthings around on this blog when I tell the world my every thought, my hopes, fears and mistakes.  But maybe that's another way to pray.  A way to voice my concerns to God when I can't find the right kind of words. 

And I know he listens.  And he hears.  And if the words aren't coming or I said them at warp speed, he still heard.  And I want my kids to understand that - that even if they fall asleep while they pray at bedtime, God knows their hearts.  And he comforts them into rest.  The way a conversation with a loved one should. 

For your week, may you find your moments.

For those moments when you have been truly you.  No agenda, no lists, nothing held back or hidden, no fast talking nervousness.  For those moments when you find yourself at ease and peace and rest - with someone that brings out the best in you - or alone.  For those moments when there can be no doubt that God meant it just for you. 

May these be moments that are kept and never forgotten.  May these be moments that make you long for more and again.  For these are the moments that we are lucky enough to experience only a handful of times in our lives.

For your week...  May you find your moments.  May they find you.  May you experience a moment that will make a difference in your life.  

Happy Monday,


Today the angels rejoiced.... sharing our good news.

The angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner who repents...

And today, the angels again rejoiced, and then probably ate fried chicken to celebrate... the baptism of 2 beautiful young souls, my oldest two sons, Ethan and Christopher.

It's been a little over a year since these precious boys each made their respective decisions to be followers of Christ... and during that time, this mom watched and waited for an appropriate moment to schedule the baptism.  Because for me, it's not a decision for a moment, but a decision of, and for a lifetime.

And this morning, we talked again about how the actual baptism isn't the most important part ... it's simply the picture to the world of what God is doing on the inside.  

And today Ethan and Christopher declared to the world that Jesus is Lord of their lives. 

And a proud mom stood to the side with the camera as they received the blessing and the reminder that they are now, not only children of God, but sons of God.  

That they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. 

Showering with Superman

My husband and I were fretting over the whole parenting thing the other day and for the millionth time, asked ourselves if we're doing anything right... and basically if we know what the #$% we're doing.  Jury's still too far out on that one...

And we were talking about how big everything seems for the tweens and teens.  How the right or wrong clothes or hair or words or shoes or lunch or seat on the bus or ......  just seem so absolutely huge to them.   And really they just want to fit in  - and at the  same time I spend every day telling them to be who they are, and that they don't have to fit in -  because God made them amazing as they are.   ....blah, blah, blah....they hear their wise mother say.  Like the garbled adult voices of the Charlie Brown cartoons.   Because their little eyes can't see the big picture now.  They just see middle school. 

You know the school worry dreams?  You can't find your locker, you show up at school naked, get locked in a bathroom.... that kind of thing?   

I was doing a little volunteering at the school the other day... had to go to the little girl's room.... got in one with a broken door, and I had no intention of crawling out from under.  So the battle began and I won with a cut finger and a bloody trip to the school nurse.  And it sent me back in time - to the awkwardness of middle school.  And it put my mind right there with my boys... the black hole of 7th grade... and made me remember again how great - how imposing - the little things are at this age.  (But at my middle school growing up, I think for at least the first year I never went to the bathroom.  Because there were scary girls in there - smoking and using profanity far greater than mine - so I held it all day long till my mom picked me up at 3:15.  Never loved my home bathroom more.) 

And the demands.... demands of time and energy and maturity and a strong will of steel to get through the day.  And the boys always seem so tired. The homework, the longer school hours, the earlier bus ride, and the growing.  Which takes tons of food and rest and sucks the life right out of them.  And they just crave time to be at home and sit on the couch mindlessly with the XBOX or watch TV.  And I completely get it.  There's no place like home.

But I for one want to remember at this stage of their young lives .... that even with all the demands put on them, and all the ways we treat them as young adults and budding professionals.... they are kids.  Just learning.  And just trying. And still wanting to be kids.

One of my sons took his Superman action figure in the shower with him last night.  And I heard him tell Superman to sit on the drain and fight off any bad guys that come up.  Perfect example of daytime young man and night time kid.  Young at heart.  And I am in no hurry to make them grow up. Showering with Superman.... I've heard of worse ideas. 

My prayer for my boys at this age is this... for them to retain the sweetness, open eyes and hearts of childhood.  May they find a slow pace in the midst of the rush and enjoy being 10, 12 and 13.  May they have hopes and plans for their futures but just as many hopes and plans for today.  May they feel accepted and loved and wanted for who they are - exactly who they are - not needing any other reason.  Because who they are is beautiful in God's eyes.  And their mom's. 

Miss a post?  Here's the previous one...

Planting seeds of faith in my children

(missed a post in the prayer series?  Click the 31 days tab on the home page...)

I read a friend's post on Facebook the other day.  And don't get me wrong... I think the world of this gal.  Which is why I guess my jaw dropped open when I read what she wrote. 

Her post , sparing details, was making fun of prayer.  
I was blinded by the light of ..... I don't know.  But blinded by something.  Worry, maybe.  Being judgmental? Maybe, that too.  But here's where my thoughts went with that one.... 

As parents we have a responsibility to our children to teach.  And we do that in so many ways.  With words, actions, and by modeling behavior.  And I totally understand and respect anyone and everyone's choice to handle their families as they see fit.  Including choices of faith and religion.  But my question here would be this .... 

Mom, can you be absolutely sure that somewhere down the road, somewhere in this child's life, that there will never be an occasion for prayer?  A need for prayer.  A need to find something that is missing, or replace something that is broken in him?  And when all else fails in this child's life, and he is looking and hoping in his world, he just may need something bigger than himself to lean on. 

That has certainly been the case with me. I've had this discussion with my husband recently.  About the need to believe in something bigger and more powerful than myself.  And coming from where I have been and the things I have seen, that I need today and for the days that will surely come ahead - to believe that there is a power that can change good for bad.  Hurt for healing.  And emptiness for a knowledge of fullness like no other. 

I am a praying mom.  Yes, I miss a few... well, I miss some/lots/more than I should..... but I am a believer in passing on the tradition of prayer.  Of passing on the faith that prayer brings change.  That prayer is a power that can take you from where you are this very moment and into a place that God only knows.  And I want my kids to know those very things.  Whether they grow up and choose to do it or not, I can't decide that for them.  Or force it.  But I can, today, plant in them a seed of hope.  A piece of belief and a trust in a God that is there to hear them when they call. 

So no, you don't have to be a prayer warrior.  I don't even like that term.  But you can be a parent that prays.  With them, or for them, or at dinner or bedtime. Or in the car alone, or for patience in those moments when you hide in the bathroom to count to 10. 

And I hold the attitudes of my children with that very idea.  If mom prays and teaches them the same, the seed is there.  So for safe keeping of my kids.... ... I am planting the seeds.  

Miss the previous post?  Here you go....

I don't know. Praying God's heart for my children. Post 4

Do those big prayers work?  I don't know.... 

Honestly, most of my prayers recently have been about Christopher - the middle kid, as he has dealt with quite the adjustment to middle school this year.  It's 6 weeks in and he still has his mama's nervous stomach.  Every morning. Right in time for the bus to roll up and for us to run like crazy people to catch it.  Last week it was his daddy running barefoot across the school yard in a last minute attempt to deliver the forgotten school ID badge... as Christopher tried to stall the bus driver.  Totally wish I had my camera for that one.   

It's been mostly homesickness for Chris, and getting used to being a bus ride away from home instead of 2 blocks away.  And of course the work load and expectations are bigger - as is everything.  And when you're 12,  The big things are giant.  Especially the things you can't control. 

Last school year our focus was on Sam, the 10 year old.... but so far so good with him.  He's rolling with the 4th grade punches and just going about his business. Which we totally needed this time around.  

But here's my question....Is it because we prayed and prayed for something to improve with Sam?  Is it because prayer did its magic and this year is looking up?  I don't think so.   I think several factors have come into play here -  one being that he has amazing teachers this go round. And I didn't necessarily pray for that specifically.  Mostly I prayed for his past teachers not to kill him. 

So today I'm thinking about praying big for my kids.  Not those general, bless my kid today, kind of prayers.  But the big, specific, say what you mean and get to the point kind of prayers.  Because I've done it.  One year we had a health scare with our oldest.  And the waiting on tests was more than I could stand - so every night for about a week waiting on biopsy results - I painted the boys bathroom.  And prayed.  And didn't sleep, and prayed some more.  And went about normal stuff by day.... but tucked those kids in at night and painted my energy and worry away. A very manly shade of brown.   

All this being said, I don't think prayer is magic.  And I don't think that just because I put it out there to God that it's gonna definitely be a go.  Because we could argue that parents of terminally ill children have prayed their hearts out - and still suffered a crippling loss.  I don't know why some prayers work or don't work. And I don't know why some seem to be answered quickly and efficiently and in our favor.... while others seem to sit on the shelf and get filed away. I think the theme here is that I don't know. 

But I'm willing to offer up whatever praise and pleadings I have to give on behalf of my boys.  And I know that God is a hearing God.  And a speaking God.  And that he wants to know my heart for my kids.

You know the ask, seek, knock Bible verse that makes us think that prayer is a Christmas list of things we want?  Here's what I learned this past Sunday.  From a much wiser woman than I ......

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened."  (Matthew 7:7-8)

I learned that by asking and seeking and knocking.... we are only assured of one answer.   One.   We may receive others, but we are assured of only one -   That when we ask and seek and knock, we will receive the Holy Spirit.... that will then wash over us and help us to make peace with ourselves and our problems and circumstances.

A mighty lesson learned.      

Missed day 3 post?  Here you go.... 

I wondered what the fashionable moms wear to the paintball fields.

I wondered what the fashionable moms wear to the paintball fields......on a rainy day.... so I decided on my Boy Mom shirt and a pink umbrella. 

And the rain came down.  And 7 excited boys and 1 dad played paintball in the mud while I took a nap in the car.   Picnics and paintball.  Birthdays and friends.

  Birthday cake and front yard Friday nights.   

For your week...... 

May you remember the good times and the together times. 
May you find your memories to be a comfort, and your days ahead to be memories in the making.  
May your heart smile at knowing that you are a child of God, beautiful in every way, on this day and at this moment.  


(October has proven to be a challenge for me to keep up with the 31 days of writing challenge.  My son's birthday, our anniversary is coming up, and 2 of my boys will be baptized next week.  All things to be included in the prayers of thanksgiving for the exact moments I am living right now.  And I guess all that trickles down to the entire family......  

I've decided that the topic of praying for our children is humongously gigantic....and I'm not going to set an alarm clock or day counter to it.  Just gonna work on it again and again as the topic comes up.... and see where it goes.)

Tomorrow.... Do those big prayers really work?  I don't know.  

a birthday prayer of thanksgiving.

It all came and went so fast....  I should have known the day he was almost born in the car.  

12 years ago today I welcomed my second son after a fast and furious delivery.  I had been in false labor for weeks and didn't recognize the real thing when it came.  Neither did fireman Dave.  So when we finally decided to head to the hospital, way too late, I was screaming at anyone slowing us down.... like the man crossing the street - that I still remember to this day.  And when the doctor said it was too late to get an epidural -  I just told him to go ahead and shoot me, right then.  Right now... end it all because I'm gonna die any minute anyway... mister who has never given birth before.  

But the drama of the morning brought me this..... And I held him in my arms.

And I dressed him like a duck.

And a cowboy.

And I loved him more than I ever thought possible.  I still do.  

With him being the second born, I was so afraid I wouldn't have enough love to go around - to equal the crazy love I discovered with my first.  But what I found was a lesson in endless love.  Unending, limitless, bottomless, full to the top love that just keeps coming no matter how many kids I divide it between.  And that love has to be from somewhere and someone other than myself.  A love from a God that taught me how to do first loving me.  An  unlovable person at unlovable times.  Kinda' like moms do pretty often.  

So my prayer for my kids today is that they feel that bottomless, full to the top kind of love in our home.  That they know the feeling of welcome and attention and caring and memories.   That they wrap themselves in the cozy blankets of our den, and find rest in the peace of this place.   

And for my Christopher, 12 years old today.... my lover of comic books and super heroes, legos and cowboy boots, friends and family,  and all things chocolate....  and a brand new player of the french horn. (2 days experience..... and sounding better all the time.....) 

You are a gift that keeps giving.  But on your birthday 12 years ago, I was given the gift of being your mom.  The gift of a lifetime.  

31 days of praying God's heart for my children. Go big or go home. Day 3

When I was expecting my oldest, I had an intimidating fear of loss.  A paralyzing fear, really.  Because I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything.  Because at that time, I had just walked through a tremendous loss of several people I loved dearly, sending me into a period of depression and  nightmares and plenty of reasons to see loss as my new constant companion.  

So I prayed what seemed to be a never ending prayer of thanksgiving for his little life growing each day.   And I prayed, really, what I remember now as begging prayers for him to be safe and get here and to finally be mine.   Please, please, PLEASE... just let me have this one thing, God.  (I have many times tried the deal making technique......)

 And when my son got here 5 weeks early - but healthy - I started feeling like I could settle in.  I thanked God for my precious gift, but over time I got comfortable enough that I wasn't checking in with daily words of thanksgiving and requests for guidance and protection .... till I needed it again.  And needing it again came around about school age when the kids were no longer in my constant care.

So looking at my prayer patterns.... my track record.... I am a situational prayer giver.  A time of need God talker/ beggar/deal maker.   

And I just find it so strange.... so unlikely.... so unlike ME.... that I went from a moment to moment, hand on the belly to feel if he was still alive kind of mom, pleading for him.... to a mom that started saying little prayers like, please bless my kids today.  What does that even mean? 

I was just reading an article about praying for our kids... and there are lots of different ones out there if you look.  But this one had one particular keeping point for me.  It was like my gym theory with a client... go big or go home.  Don't waste my time and yours with attitude and effort less than 100%.  So why would God, who is able to move mountains - our mountains.... want to hear a vague little prayer of wishing a blessing on my kids for the day.  

He wants to hear us and from us.  And he has promised to be available if only we ask.  And there's nothing wrong with praying for little things.  But when it comes to my kids I want to go big or go home.  I don't want to doubt what God can do by not asking for it.  I want to give it my mom best shot , with focus and strength of belief.  

He wants our praise.  He wants our discussion.  And he wants to hear what we need - to hear us say it and ask it -  even if he already knows.  And in saying it and claiming it, we are giving our concerns over.  Give God your specifics.  Tell him what you need and want.  In detail, with confidence, knowing that he is able to provide.  And with that confidence, speak those prayers and go about your day trusting in a God that heard your every thought and word.  

Day 4... do those big prayers work?  I don't know.

(Missed a past post in the 31 day series?  Go to the top tab on my home page labeled 31 days.  All links are there.  )


A missed opportunity. 31 days of praying. post 2

So here's why I took on a totally different writing topic than I had planned... a missed opportunity last week with my kids.  Christopher, my middle guy, asked me at bedtime if I could say a prayer with them.  All 3 boys sleep in the same room and it's pretty much a zoo in there ... and sometimes I just get SOOOO TIRED, and want to escape unharmed.  So the depths of hell emerged from my mouth... and I said to his sweet little prayer request...., not tonightNot tonight.  And with those 2 words I spoke volumes to my kids.  In 2 little words, I told them I was too tired  to pray, that I was okay with ending the day alone - without due thanksgiving to the God who gave me every minute of it anyway.  And that it's okay for them to do the same.  I won no parenting awards that day.

Big ol' missed opportunity.  Or as my teenager would say, "epic fail."  So I saw this writing project as an opportunity to do better.  To better my focus and myself.  Maybe to dig a little deeper and learn a bit.  So here we are.  

And I'm on this road searching for words - words not only to fill a blog post, but words of praise and pleading, of disappointments and questions. Of praying my kids through their so big days of learning and expanding their little worlds into the great plan God has in store for each of them.  

I read a quote recently by Jackie Kennedy... and it's a good one... "If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much."
If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much.
If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much.

And as I  enter into this project,  I appreciate and seek out your input.   Because, once again.... there are no experts here in the house of angels, pirates, and thieves.  Just me - an imperfect heart who hopes she is taking every opportunity to fully raise my future adults.   To raise them to not be, well..... pirates and thieves. 

And my country song quote for the day..... thanks, Miranda Lambert..... "I bet he'd understand a heart like mine."  Talking about Jesus.  Me and Jesus just figuring stuff out together.  

Missed day 1?  Here you go.... 

Day 3.... praying big ideas for our kids. Go big or go home. 

Designed by FlexyCreatives