Planted on the ROCK

Mommy.  Mommy.  Mom.  Momma.  Mother.  Mutter.  Mum.  Mummy.  Ma.  Mommy.  Mommy! These are the words ringing through my home, my ears, and my heart all day long.  With four kids at home, two of which we home school, the call for my attention never ceases.  Pleas for a referee to break up a squabble over trains, assistance with solving for "x", and inquiries as to what will be served at every meal for the entire day, including snacks, are abundant. The name "Mommy" is heard so often I sometimes ask my children to call me "George" for the day.  They laugh and think it is funny but I seriously just need relief from hearing the "M" word.  I inform them that I will not answer to any of the M-synonyms (another opportunity to squeeze in a language lesson!) but will be happy to answer their call when addressed as "George". An amazing thing happens - those children have to stop and think about using the correct name.  Sometimes it takes

Weight .  What an UGLY word for those of us who struggle day in and day out to maintain or in my case, achieve, an acceptable BMI.  Picture this. . . three or four days a week of "30 Day Shred" - killer ! Two or three days of recumbent bike - boring !  Counting and tracking Weight Watchers points until my pencil is worn down to a nub - relentless agony !  What's worse?  Committed exercise and diet changes since mid-November has earned me a 4 pound gain.  You heard that right - GAIN !  Now, to be honest I did have a 3 week excessively indulgent period over Christmas.  But you would think days upon days of Jillian Michels would balance that out. As you can guess, there is more going on here than just exercise and diet changes.  For me, food has always been a coping mechanism, a prop.  I was one of those tween girls that had to shop in the Pretty Plus department where designers somehow forgot to make things cute.  You know, gingham and bows instead of Andy Gibb T-shirt

My family recently visited a sea life/amusement park.  To prepare for the unavoidable water experience, I donned my swim suit under my sun dress.  Now to set the stage, my figure is Rubenesque in nature which calls for one of those not-so-cute swim short ensembles.  What I didn't realize while shopping for said swim shorts was that those shorts cause serious friction !  There was so much rubbing of skin against shorts that day I could have produced enough electricity to power the whole park! While doctoring my sore hamhocks with first aid cream, it brought to mind what I am like when I am doing my own thing and not God's.  I have a constant ever-present desire to do things my way first and then "consult" with God later.  You know the " it's better to ask forgiveness later than ask for permission now " theme?  I practically authored the idea!  You see, for me, going off on my own Commando-style never seems to work out.  The friction of my independe

Have you wondered if your public persona is a true representation of your personal truth or self? For the last two years, my idea of my public  self no longer jived with what was inside my heart and soul.  As you can imagine, drama and trauma ensued.  My plastic smile and pretty earrings clashed with (in my mind) my smeared lipstick-stained grimace and tarnished edges.  You see, I could no longer compartmentalize the good, the bad, and the ugly.  It all collided and BOY, was it U-G-L-Y! A friend and I had just experienced a weekend conference focusing on our godly roles as mothers and wives.  I remember sitting there surrounded by beautiful (clearly beautiful inside and out) women who loved the Lord.  I couldn't even hear or process what the speakers spoke about, what the songs heralded, or  focus on the people I met. All I heard and FELT was my Lord shouting in a whisper that He would no longer accept being in a compartment.  He would no longer TOLERATE my living a pretty, p