Planted on the ROCK

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 h...

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 cont...

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 in...

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...

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 ...

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 ...