Planted on the ROCK

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 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

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

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

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

Recently we read one of children's favorite stories, The Emperor's New Clothes . My kids think it is unimaginable that anyone would actually believe to be wearing clothes while prancing through the streets of the town for all the world to see in only their skivvies. His pride draped around his shoulders masquerading as wisdom. Wasn't he cold? Didn't he notice the shocked and embarrassed faces of the townspeople and his court? WHAT was he thinking?! After putting the book away, the Holy Spirit convicted me of my own unimaginable prideful practice. Every morning when I rise, I go through a mental checklist of all there is to accomplish that day. And because I am a list-maker, those items get put in order of priority. The usual things like laundry, dishes, piano practice, schooling, Bible study, and exercise (last on the priority list, I'm ashamed to say) are placed and ready to be tackled. Sounds good to be so organized and on top of things, right? Well

This past weekend I witnessed my husband reveling in teenage memories.  We were visiting his parents in El Paso and I secretly set up a dinner with his best friend since 1st grade.  Unbeknownst to Mario, we headed out for dinner to meet "B" and his wife.  Unbeknowst to me, B contacted the third of the Three Amigos, "G" and asked him to join us. There was much man-hugging, back slapping, and boyish grins as we arrived.  Mario had the best smile!  We all settled in over dinner to relive some of the "best" times of their lives.  Boy-oh-boy the stories!  Adolescent ignorance paired with lots of free time and daring personalities created life-long memories of what not to do.  Some of which were down right miraculous that anyone survived - a.22 , a VW, and sand dunes! As I listened over the next several hours of their stories and experiences, a thought struck me.  None of these 40-something men sounded ashamed or regretful of their past.  They laughed an

My recently turned three-year-old is decidedly a big boy.  He no longer wants sippy cups (less to wash!) or help with his hair and clothes.  He wants to be a big kid like his siblings.  He has even started enjoying Bible story time before bed.  Because of his enthusiasm for story-time with the other kids, we have put aside our Bible geared for older kiddos and have pulled out the My First Bible Stories.  He loves to talk about the pictures (especially the snakes and fiery furnace) and listens as we read.  It is such a blessing to hear the older kids retell the stories to their littlest brother. Last week, we read the story of Martha and Mary.  This particular version of the story was very clear that Martha's tone of voice was less than appealing and even boarded on the nagging and complaining side.  And this was not complaining with thanksgiving but just plain ol' feeling sorry for herself complaining.  Martha whined about all of her work and lack of help.  I retold the story

February! It's the month of love. Spring flowers began to peek up through the ground. Diamond dynasties and card companies create in our heads visions of ginormous rocks on a band, heart-shaped chocolates, and sappy but heart-felt sentiments from our loved ones. Our expectations of a over-the-top romantic Valentine's Day increase with each passing day. As a teenager, Valentine's Day was the best day all year. Boys could buy their sweethearts a single rose and have it secretly delivered during the middle of Algebra II or Chemistry. All the girls would gush excitedly while secretly hoping their own beau would have their flower delivered during the next period. Please, oh please! As I've gotten older, I tell my husband not to spend money on flowers and candy. I don't even need a card. Just let me sleep late. For a week. Serve our kids breakfast so I can linger in the shower. Alone and without an audience. Acts of service make my heart melt. If he does

I had the pleasure of chatting with a new friend while watching my daughter's basketball practice.  We clicked right away.  She was generally interested and listened without over talking and hogging the conversation.  We talked of our dear, sweet husbands and darling children.  She asked about our decision to home school vs. private vs. public.  I asked her about her move from Kentucky and if she liked Texas.  It was really nice! After 45 minutes of surface talk I asked her to tell me about the day she became a Christian.  What was it like for her and how had God been working in her life since then.  It was great to hear a mature sister in Christ tell me about her relationship with Him. She then, with a close-to-my-heart boldness, asked me: "So. . . are you a real Christian or just a Texas Christian?  I mean, it sounds like you are a real Christian from our conversation but you just never know around here!" Do what?  Huh?  Say Again? To be honest, this isn'