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Love Returned

I am a mother-in-law at 40 years old.  No, I didn't have a baby at  14 years of age.  I did, however, marry an older (ahem, much older) man who had a 9 year old son. A son who's birth mother was gone. A son who was perfectly happy to be a father-son duo with no desire for a nosy, know-it-all Betty Buttinsky. That's me by the way. Ol' Betty Buttinksy. Their life before me was full of guy time - bowling, darts, late movie nights and fried food.  They had a routine that fit for school and work and sports. It was a sweet picture of a devoted father and adoring son. Like bread and jam. Then, in walks horseradish. Again, me.  Horseradish and jam aren't the most scrumptious combination ever invented. Completely in love with the dad in the equation and thoroughly unaware of brewing discord. I disrupt the smooth operation with the best of intentions. No chore chart before? Oh, well let's get one laminated and on the fridge.  No set bedtime? My word! Curfew begins now.
God is alive! Amen? I have a sweet friend struggling with all types of cancer.  Over the last two years that I have come to love her, she has lost her hair, weight, ability to drive, and control of bodily functions.  During these long months of suffering, I have seen the amazing strength and hope that comes from the Holy Spirit.  Beauty and joy that can only come from His indwelling.  It is a life-changing situation to witness and be a part of. This summer, she was told she was nearing her end.  Her body could take no more and she was ready, mentally.  It was so hard to believe I wouldn't see her at Bible study on Thursdays, or hear her witty comebacks or enjoy her horse stories.  Her circle of friends was devastated. She mustered the strength to join us at Bible study albeit sporadically.  Just her presence is a calming balm. Are you ready for the "wow"?  That lady, my dying friend, is now in remission. She is in the curative stage of treatment and has medical hope

The Best Birthday Present of All Time

My husband and I have birthdays in December 8 days apart.  As you can imagine, our birthdays sometimes get combined with Christmas celebrations or downplayed in the busy season.  Which actually, is totally fine.  We are both approaching a new decade milestone and don't mind if the birthday gets overlooked in the hub bub of Christmas. As I was discussing with my husband his list of needs and wants, he came up with the most brilliant idea of all time .  "How about the kids with you parents for a whole weekend?  No money spent on their part and pure bliss for us." Uh, yes.  Why didn't I think of that? Thankfully, I have a mother that has a heart for service and a step dad that is laid back and agreeable to most anything.  Even to four kids invading his home Friday evening through Sunday afternoon.  Pretty agreeable, huh?  He'll have them collect an endless supply of black walnuts that litter their property and rake leaves and pick up rocks and move them to anoth

A Man Leaves

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A man slings his pack over his left shoulder, smiles and waves.  He says goodbye with an already-homesick look on his face.  He tosses his camo bags in the truck and composes himself as he turns for a last look at me, the house, his home.  It's not my husband leaving.  He's my son. My son was returning to Afghanistan.  No longer as a young man with mature ideals one moment only to react with teenage-type silliness the next.  No, he was to return to war different than the last time he left our home.  He had become an Adult with a capital A.  His two week visit home was a gift from God for my husband and I.  The Lord gave us the opportunity to see firsthand the man He was making out of our son.  The son we had spent countless nights praying over.  The son we had threatened within an inch of his life during his high school days.  The son that pretended to have vomiting attacks at bedtime seeking an extra dose of attention.  The son that drove us bananas with his constant c

Disappointment Redeemed

I'm so disappointed in you. A knife pierced my 12 year old heart.  My mother had the power to reduce my foolishness with only that phrase. With only a disproving look and those quietly spoken words, I was reduced to shame.  Couldn't she have just spanked me and gotten it over with? A quick kapow to the bum would have been less painful than the "disappointment speech". As a parent to a young adult, I too, know what it is to be disappointed in my child's decisions.  I understand how it hurts to hear of his wayward choices that he calls fun.   I know the burden of carrying my child's disappointing choices so close to my heart they almost become my own. Don't misunderstand me.  My son is A-mazing.  He defends my, and your, freedom on a daily basis.  He sees the positive in his adventures in Afghanistan.  He can crack jokes about the amount of sand found in every crack and crevice of his body.  He can laugh and make light of his accomplishments in the mil

BFF . . . For Real

Frisco Bible has an amazing couple leading the youth, Kris and Amy Keith.  Amy invited me to be a part of a get together for teen girls from my church called "Junk Food and Jesus".  It was an opportunity for junior high and high school girls to indulge in some yummy food while listening in on how God is working or has worked in "older" womens' lives.  So here's the first thing . . . I'm now considered an "older" woman.  Sigh.  Weep.  Tears.  I never thought it would happen to me.  Alas. And the second thing?  I am totally enjoying being around these godly young women!  What an encouragement for me as a mother of five children to see our Lord evident in their lives.  Parenting along with the Holy Spirit works! The topic, shared by Heather, was about friendships - the Best Friend Forever kind.  She talked about her struggles early on in life in making and keeping a BFF.  Her difficulty in friendship continued throughout high school, college

No More "I" Word

Sitting through a long meeting, my mind begins to drift.  Unfortunately, this is not uncommon for me.  Sitting still and sitting quietly still is not a task I've mastered.  I'm 38 years old.  See . . . I'm drifting here, too.  Anyway, as I half listen I look around at a room full of women.  There's talk of this and that and I can only focus on things hidden beneath the service.  What is Lady A covering beneath her nervous laughter?  What is Gal B hiding behind her chewed-upon bottom lip?  Can Friend C twiddle her thumbs even faster to control her hidden-issues? You see, I am extra sensitive to others' attempt at pushing some sort of unwelcome hang-up behind a smile or laugh.  For I have been a master craftsman at hiding anything related to the "I-word".  You know the word.  Insecurity. Merriman Webster defines insecure as 1.not confident or sure, 2.deficient in assurance : beset by fear and anxiety. I define insecurity as a fear of being known