My Boy, Your Man

 How did the fireman in this picture get to be 16?

As I stare at my little boy in this picture, I am in awe at how fast 16 years can actually go… and I begin to think of you more and more.  16 years ago you weren't even a thought.  I had so much more to think about and all of the things that I was busy teaching my little boy.  I was too busy loving my little boy, tying shoes, and playing in dirt.  I was enjoying bike rides with him sitting on the bike seat right behind me pointing out all of the things I wanted him to notice.  I was bringing my little boy to all of the places I wanted him to experience and all of the people I wanted him to meet.

You never entered my mind.

I was too busy being the mama to my little boy.  He was a delight.  I am so honored to have been chosen as this little boy's mom.  Not everyday was easy, but I knew everyday was a gift.  My little boy never left my side and if ever there was a Mama's boy, he was it.

I remember a friend had come to visit us in the hospital.  After a few minutes of admiring my baby boy's sweet face, she jokingly made a comment I will never forget.

"Too bad you didn't have a girl.  Boys eventually leave their Mama's."  

Her words were a blow in those first precious moments with my sweet little boy.  But somehow as I moved past her comments, I thought she was wrong.  As my little boy grew, I knew she was wrong.  Even looking back on those moments today, I am more sure than ever that she was wrong.  Boys don't leave their Mamas.

Boys need their Moms.  My boy needed me on those dark nights when he was afraid.  My boy needed me when he felt bad and needed to be rocked, when he couldn't reach the tip top of the block tower he was building, and when my boy scraped his knee.  I was his protection from the big bad Santa Claus when he was two and from the mean little girl at the Waterfront Park.  My boy needed me to push him on the swing and to teach him his letters.  I caught him when he jumped into the pool and picked him up when he fell down.  My little boy needed me and I loved to be needed by that little boy.
                                

Truth is Boys don't ever leave their Mamas.

Men do.


For this reason a man shall leave his father and *mother* and be joined with his wife and they shall become one flesh.
~Genesis 2:24

As I looked at him as he pulled out of our driveway today with a quick smirk and "Love you Mom,"  he looked more like your man then he did my boy.  And I thought of you.  My boy would never leave me.  But one day, your man will.

                                              

Tears are welling up in my eyes as I typed that last sentence, but not because I am sad I am losing my little boy but because I have so much respect and love for your man.  I realize that although I don't have much to teach him anymore, I do have so much more I want to train him in.  I realize how short my time was with my little boy and how close he is to leaving my house as your man.  And I want him to be ready.

I also think of the responsibility and job I have left before you are joined with your man.  I think of you so often and I pray for you as I go about my day.  As I find less and less things to be teaching him, I find more and more things I want to encourage him in and build him up in as he grows into a man.  I think of you.  I think of you when he forgets his clothes on the bathroom floor and I have to remind him for the hundredth time to go clean them up, when he doesn't make his bed, or when he helps me unload the groceries without being asked.  I think of you when he tells me how good dinner was, when he clears the dishes, or grabs a heavy item from my arms.  I hope you love it that I have taught my little boy to hold doors open for women, how to tell them when they look pretty, and how to treat them like ladies.  I hope you love that my little boy had two younger sisters that he practiced on.  He practiced helping them, showing them affection, and protecting them.

I think of you when I show him grace when he leaves for class and his room is a mess because he had been up late working on a paper.  I pray you will love and respect him and show him that same grace when he messes up with you.  I think of you when I make him go back and apologize to his siblings, hoping that one day he will be quick to apologize to you.  I think of you when we have talks about a girl he is interested in and I am encouraged by what those qualities are.  I am sure you are exactly what he is looking for and I pray that he will be the exact man you are looking for.  I think of you when I catch him reading God's Word and I hope one day you will be thankful that your man prays.  I think of you when he goes to work when he doesn't feel like it because he knows that work is what men do and in that work your man will honor God.  I try to encourage your man to be a hard worker and I hope one day you will reap the fruit of that encouragement.  I hope he makes you laugh and I think of you when he makes me laugh.

Today my little boy no longer looks like a little boy.  In fact, he looks closer to your man than he does my boy.  The fact is. .. he IS closer to being your man than he is my little boy.   I don't have anything left to teach my little boy.  My job is now to encourage and continue to build up in the young man you will one day call yours.  I am praying for you.  I am praying for your man.  And I am praying for me as I finish my season of teaching and training my boy to be your man.   Until then I promise to not grow weary and to finish this mothering race well.  When the day comes for you to call him yours, he will leave me.  He will leave me and be joined to you because that is how God designed it.  My boy will have become your man.  And it will be good.

Love,
Amy

March 17, 2016~So much in this young man's life has changed in one short year, but I am more convinced now than ever, he will be ready.  He has overcome such challenges and has become even more of a man than when I wrote this just one year ago.  He will be ready to leave our home.  He will be ready to stand firm in what he believes.  He will be ready to face the hard.  He will be ready to be a man.  Her man.  

Go. Be a Peacock Lil. Part 2

I could not have known how this sweet baby would completely change my view on my mothering.  People always tell you never to compare your children but for this young mother of two very easy boys, it was hard not to.

They were both excellent sleepers.  She was not.  They both were content to stay in bed in the morning and look at books until I was ready to go in to them. She was not.  They were both fantastic eaters.  She was not.  They were both snugglers.  She was not.  They were both Mama's boys. She was not.  They were very needy.  She was not.  And the differences only seemed to intensify as she grew.

For the first three years, she rocked my world.  Everything I knew with my boys, she did the opposite.  Everything that worked so well with the boys, did not work with her.  Things my boys got in trouble for, they only got in trouble for it once.  Things my Lillie got in trouble for, she got in trouble for it again and again and again.

 And again.

Truth be told. I had gotten prideful.  I figured the obedience in my boys was a direct reflection of my great parenting.  Before our salvation in Christ, I had also struggled with Logan.  He did not listen at all.  Some of it was his age, but I was going down the road of reasoning.  With an 18 month old.  I often left friends' houses in tears because I found myself reasoning with him to help his friends clean up or to get his shoes on.  Or to leave.  I was reading a book called, Positive Discipline.  The premise was to tell the child only things they COULD do and never to say NO.  The little sinner in him loved that I felt very out of control and that only gave him more.  Once we were saved and I began to grow in God's way of raising children and after many older women coming alongside, we began to teach and train Logan God's Way.  Amazing.  It was the first time I had stepped out in obedience to God's Word and I watched the blessings flow.  Once Cole came along, we had it down pat and both boys responded so well to God's Way of teaching and training.  Two very sweet and obedient boys in tow, I had begun to think it was me.  How great my parenting was and I had forgotten to give God the glory for the wisdom.  I often joke, that's when He decided I was to have a Lillie.

We moved away from our church in Beaufort shortly after her first birthday.  And it was shortly after that, that her little personality truly began to bloom.  She was a runner.  A runner away~er.  From me.  She never knew a stranger and would go to anyone who had a heartbeat.  We half-joked that we would one day find her picture on a milk carton.  I just remember always looking for her.  I looked for her at home, at church, in stores, in the park.  Always looking.  Always asking her brothers, "Where's Lillie??"  We'd always find her.  Usually with a person and very content.  She also loved to be alone.  By herself.  She could entertain herself for hours.  Our "I love you"s were followed by, "OK" or "I know."  She seemed to be in another world even when she looked at you.  And eventually that "world" was dubbed, Lillie Land, and I didn't like it.  She didn't eat well.  She didn't stay at the table for meals.  She always stood on her chair and had to be reminded to sit.  She always took things that didn't belong to her.  She pestered the boys.  She was always in the ER.  We made trips for busted lips, busted chins, and more busted lips.  Walking into the ER one night, the check in nurse saw her and said, "Lillie!  Good to see you again.  How old are you now?"  To which Lillie proudly replied with dried blood all over her Ariel Wedding dress up dress and her fancy click-clicks, "Free!"  The nurse laughed and said, "Wow.  You made it to 3."  She never slept past 6am and she rarely took a nap longer than 45 minutes.  She ran around the room at ballet when all of the other dainties were clinging quietly to their mothers' hands.  She wouldn't let me fix her hair and rarely did she let me pick out her clothes.  She always seemed to be a mess and I just couldn't let it go.  When she pushed, I pushed back.  She came into a room and left a room the same way…with a wake behind her.  She always seemed to be in trouble for something and she always seemed to be "meeting me in the bathroom."  {Code for a spanking}  Where the boys were very remorseful for what they were being disciplined for, Lillie just seemed stone cold.  Where the boys obediently submitted to receive their punishment, she ran around the bathroom crying and clinging to her bottom.  Where the boys needed hugs and reassuring afterwards, Lillie just wanted down.  Everyday felt more and more like a battle and everyday I lost a little more joy in my mothering and in this girl I had prayed for.  I was embarrassed and didn't know where to turn.  To admit that I was at a loss to any of the new mothers in our new city was not an option.  Instead of drawing near to the One Who made her, I chose to go at it alone.

God never let ME go though.  I knew what He said and I knew she needed to come under our authority.  I knew her struggle with her Dad and I at a young age would only lead to even more difficult struggles at an older age.  I plowed ahead.  Doing the things I had done with the boys and continuing to struggle with this daughter I had prayed so diligently for.  I knew that He had answered a prayer, that He had a plan for her and I thought all I had to do was fit her into my mold and image of what she should look like and it would all work out.  I used words like quiet, gentle, and little lady.  I forced her to do hair, to wear matching clothes, to stay in her bed in the mornings, to hold my hand while we walked, and to be still.  I would force her to be the daughter I thought she should be.  A chicken.

By God's Grace, we received orders back to Beaufort, SC and back to the church where we had first heard the Gospel, had first seen how great marriages could be, and had first been taught God's Word.  These women knew how to raise babies and they loved it.  They found joy.  Just being back with them and under their teaching, encouragement and love, gave me a renewed resolve to press on with teaching and training Lillie.  By this time, our fourth child had come along and she was everything I thought that Lillie was going to be.  She was an easy baby, very loving, very needy, and such a joy.  So Lillie still baffled me.  She still pushed my buttons and she still caused me such great frustration.  One particular hard spell with Lillie, I was listening to Mothering From the Heart on the radio.  Our pastor's wife was doing her weekly question and answer show and I broke.  I wanted to know. I needed direction.  I wanted someone to know.  I needed help.  Practical help.  I called.  I still remember how nervous I was to ask my question live, so I dictated it to the person on the phone, hung up, and waited for her to answer.  Because I didn't give too much information, her answer was pretty vague and a million, "But what if….?"went through my mind.  I had to talk to her in person.  I don't remember how I actually got that time alone with her, probably cornered her after church one day, somewhere, but I got that time.  I was able to ask her my "What ifs…?" and she listened.  She asked questions, she listened some more, she probed my heart, she gave me practical tips and options I had not tried and she encouraged.  There were tears in my eyes as we talked because of the conviction in my heart.  The draining conviction of three years of carrying a burden for a little girl who I was trying to change.  She gave me such practical advice that day but what stands out in my mind and in my heart more than anything were the words, "First, you need to be on your knees for this little girl.  This little girl that God created.  He can give you wisdom to raise her; He created her.  He created her this way and you need to first be praying that you do not change her…." I don't remember much else after that.

My heart wept.

Pray you do not change her. 

God made her this way.

It was like I had been kicked in the gut and hugged all in the same moment.  I had been trying to change her.  I had been trying to fit her little square personality into a round hole. I was not embracing her joy for life.  I was not noticing her creative mind.  I was missing moments to dance.  I was stomping out her little spark.   I had been trying to "fix" all of the things that I didn't understand.  I had been trying to make her not Lillie Grace instead of trying to understand a Lillie Grace.  The words, "God made her this way," broke through my hard and prideful heart.  He was the One Who had answered the very prayer for her and yet, I did not go to Him for the wisdom once she came.  He was the One Who knew her every thought, her rising up and her sitting down and was intimately acquainted with all her ways, and yet, I never went to Him for wisdom.  I never sought His help.

From that moment of clarity, I never looked at my Lillie Grace the same. I knew she needed to be taught and trained to come under our authority so eventually she would see her need to come under God's supreme authority and her need for a Savior, but now, I would seek to know her and how that teaching and training looked for her.  I saw and embraced her joy.  I treasured her sweet spirit.  She's made it to 11.  I would love to tell the ER nurse from so long ago, "…and in style!"  I am in awe of how she sees life.  She has learned to become more loving and tell her family she loves them.  She gives hugs more than ever.  I am more deliberate in my words with her and I know now to step back sometimes and let her go.  She smiles with a joy that fills my heart.  She dances like no one else is looking.  She makes us laugh and she makes herself happy.  She can be totally content to be alone in a crowd and we lovingly admire her time in Lillie Land.  With age, she has gained that self control of the Holy Spirit and in time He has shown me ways to let her go or reel her in.  Teaching, training, raising, and loving her still feels sometimes as if I am putting together a 1000 piece puzzle without having the box top to look at.  But I know the One Who holds her box top.  I will look to Him in my mothering of a Lillie Grace. He has been very faithful in my mothering of a Lillie Grace.  Sometimes she is the very person I wish I could be.  She is not a chicken.  She never has been.  And I'm sorry Lillie Belle.  So sorry for missing that.  Go.  Be a peacock Lil.

Go. Be a Peacock Lil. Part 1

Secret Keepers tell a story on their tour this year….

There once was a beautiful, colorful peacock who thought she was a chicken who happened to live with a brood of plain chickens behind a chain fence. Although the only one in the brood who was a peacock, she didn't see herself as any different and everyday she spent trying to act like the other chickens.

Day after day she would try her best to act more and more like a chicken.  The more and more she tried to act like a chicken the more she didn't fit in.  The more she didn't fit in the more she tried to act like the plain chickens around her.  She had a very miserable life trying to fit in to a group she was never intended to fit in with.

One day a beautiful bird in the distance flew gracefully down and began to slowly walk around.  As this bird walked, its tail feathers began to spread into the most beautiful, colorful fan of color.  The peacock was mesmerized by this beautiful bird.  She watched it for hours and couldn't take her eyes off of it.  As she watched this magnificent creature, she pulled away from the plain brood of chickens behind her.  Eventually, it was her alone by the fence.

"You know you are a just like that bird right?"

"What do you mean?" asked the peacock who thought she was a chicken.  As she looked to her side, it was the oldest chicken in the brood that had sidled up beside her and was looking in the distance too at this amazing creature.

"That's a peacock.  My dear.  You are a peacock."

"I. Am.??" The thought baffled the peacock who thought she was a chicken and she had to know more.

"You are just as beautiful.  You are just as unique.  No one has ever told you to go.  Go. Be a peacock."

"But this fence…?"  The thought of joining up with that amazing bird was unfathomable.

"You can fly.  You are a peacock. For all this time you have been trying to be something you are not.  You are not like the others.  You are not a chicken.  You are a peacock.  Go. Be a Peacock."

With a deep breath and a quick pause, the peacock spread her beautiful wings, flew over the fence and gracefully landed a few feet from the other peacock.  As she landed the beautiful bird in front of her, slowly and steadily spread the most beautiful tail feathers she had ever seen.  Something inside of her began to tingle and before the peacock knew it, she had a fan of feathers surrounding her body that she had never seen before.  She was a peacock.  She was not a chicken.  She would spend the rest of her life being the peacock God had created her to be.


September 2004

Every run began the same way.  I would begin my run clearing my head and turning my thoughts to God.  I would pray.  I would thank God for Who He was, what He was doing, and what He had done. I had been a Christian for about 4 years and I was growing.  God was blessing us with our third child and I was due in January.  Everyday I had started praying specifically for a little girl.  Although I couldn't imagine having a girl, I knew that was a desire of my heart; to have a baby daughter.

I had very much enjoyed my times as a boy mommy to the two that God had blessed us with, but the what if….always stayed with me.  What if we had a girl?  What if the baby inside was a girl?  The more I prayed the stronger my desire became and at times it felt wrong.  I had come to want a girl more than anything I could think of.  I kept praying that God would give me a little girl.  I knew Hannah had prayed specifically for a boy, so I was sure my specific prayer for a girl was not wrong, but I couldn't shake the guilt my request was becoming somewhat of an idol.

One day standing in line to check out at Walmart with my two sweet boys, There was a teenage girl and a mother in front of me having a very heated discussion.  Not wanting to eavesdrop I kept my boys engaged in conversations about things around us and in our buggy.  Lots of eye rolling and a few, "Watch your mouth"s, I knew things were not good.

"I'm going to wait in the car.  You can do this by yourself!" and with that the teenage girl stomped away.  Very disrespectfully.  The mother caught my eye and with a look of apology, she just timidly shrugged her shoulders and began unloading the overloaded cart by herself.  Big tears began to spill down her cheeks.  Slowly, I walked over and began to help her unload.

"Do you know what you are having?"  she asked as if to smooth over the awkwardness.

"I don't.  We already have two boys, so I guess in a way I am assuming a third boy."

"You can only hope.  Whatever you do, pray you don't have a girl like mine."  And with that the clerk told her the amount, she paid, and was walking out before her comment had time to sink in.  That was it.  That's what my prayer had been missing.  The peace I felt from that moment was like a direct encouragement from God.

The next morning on my run, not much changed, except my heart for this growing baby inside of me and my prayer.

"Dear God.  You know my desire is to have a baby girl.  I pray for a little baby girl but only if she would grow to honor and love you all the days of her life.  I pray for a little baby girl who loves You.  If that is Your will, I will teach her to love and serve you.  If not, then I will thank you forever for the sweet boy you bless me with.  Amen"

The amazing thing was the peace I felt.  I was suddenly ok with whatever God choose to bless our family with.  I knew He knew better.  He would only give me a daughter if she did not have a rebellious heart and He would give me a boy if He knew that is what we needed.  The gender would be perfect for our family and I was full of the peace I had been wanting.

In October, we went for our 6 month ultrasound and we were excited to find out what the gender would be.  In my heart, I believed it would be a boy.  I just knew from the peace and change of heart over the past month.  That strong desire for a girl only at any cost was gone so my heart was content with the thought of a third boy.  I truly believed God had taken away the desire for a girl, because only He could know.

As the tech pushed the sensor over my belly, he said, "Do you want to know?"

Immediately Patrick asked if he could guess.  After looking at the screen, he went behind my head and said, "I will hold up one for a boy and two for a girl."  Instantly, the tech looked up at his fingers and said, "Nope."  My heart smiled although I had a thought of loss for just a moment.  You see, Patrick had said the entire time that we were having a girl so I assumed he had held up two fingers.  As the tech and Patrick looked intently at the screen, I had a moment to myself.  I remember saying a quick prayer, "Thank you God for this baby.  Thank you that you will give me a child who will honor you, not one who will have a rebellious heart."  And with that I was ready to welcome baby boy #3 to our family.

The tech called the head ultrasound tech in to confirm what he had seen and his comment was, "That's girl country right there!"

What.  What??  What?!?  Big tears of joy rolled down my face as I sat up to see the evidence of the desire of my heart that God had given me.  I was in shock.  He knew my heart.  He knew my desire had been a child I could raise for His glory.  He gave me a daughter.  A baby girl.

Thoughts of a shy, quiet girl sitting still beside me with a beautiful pink dress and her hand in mine came to mind.  But this is not what God's thoughts were.  That was not the girl He had created for me.  He created a Lillie.  And she would rock my world.

to be continued…..

No One Special

"You must be crazy."

"I could never do that."

"How do you teach the hard stuff?"

"That's a lot for you; you much be a pretty special mom."

"Mine are learning Russian at their school."

"Our school is teaching them to design their own program language and invent a website."

"Mine are in the Honors Program with all AP classes."

      If ever I felt unqualified to start our 11th year of homeschooling, it is now. Back to School time.  Everyone in a pre-school excitement.  Pulling school lists at Walmart.  Picking out new lunchboxes and backpacks.  New clothes.  Finding out who teachers are.  Open houses and orientations. New schedules posted and matching classes with friends.  Inevitably I run into one friend or another  in Walmart and lately the conversations always turn to the first day of school.  Most know we homeschool but as the years tick on, more frequently the question from well meaning school choosing friends is, "Are you still going to homeschool?"  In my brain I hear, "Are you subjecting yourself to the crazy yet again?"  The self doubt not audible to them, the conversation continues and ends up with the excitement of all that is piled in their carts wheeling away.

    This will officially be the first year I am dragging my feet since starting Kindergarten with Logan.  What seemed overwhelming with him 10 years ago has creeped back into my brain as we step off on our 11th year of "crazy."  I will have a 10th grader, a 7th/8th grader (that's another whole blog and issue all together), a 5th grader, and a 3rd grader.  As brown boxes began arriving at my door step last week~I told you I was dragging my feet~I could feel the weight of the new school year almost as if with each delivery, the boxes were being stored on my shoulders.  I couldn't even bring myself to open the one that arrived on Saturday...our biggest by far.  Even with the kids excitement, I used the excuse of wanting to save them all until Monday.  I couldn't bear the thought of the sight of Chemistry, Algebra 2, cursive workbooks, Physical Science, and fractions staring back at me.  Not now.  Not with two days left of summer.  

   Our summer has been wonderful; busy, but wonderful.  Logan and Cole played baseball all summer and we got to travel with Logan and spend quality time with just him.  We made great friends with his new baseball family and strengthened old ones with Cole's.  We enjoyed the pool, friends, bowling, lazy mornings, late evenings, and play dates.  We had so much fun with VBS this year, camping, and sometimes just doing nothing.  I got lazy with my to do list and figured out suppers on a whim.  We ate pizza by the pool and Sunset Slush on warm summer nights.  I was Mom.  I had time to play games, make homemade cookies, pick up friends, and have sleepovers.  Homemade pizzas and homemade ice cream.  I try new recipes and new restaurants.  Sure I had to clean, laundry~always~, cook and plan meals, but that's it.  I wasn't grading papers or doing lesson plans.  I wasn't editing a book report or fussing over missed assignments.  No tests were given, no deadlines for papers, and no mandatory reading.  I corrected grammar but only half-heartedly and never with a pen.  I can do Mom.  I enjoy Mom.  I know how to do Mom.  It makes me happy.  It's my comfort zone.

    Starting the school year means I am no longer just Mom.  I'm back to being Teacher.  I make assignments and check them.  I introduce and enforce.  I test, I quiz, I check.  I answer questions.  I point out mistakes.  I assist, tutor, explain.  I at times become the bad guy and I don't want to be the bad guy.  I cry over long days, I sigh with relief when long division is mastered, I smile at a good test grade.  I hide in my closet for quiet, I stop answering phones, I get frustrated, I get tired.  My days are long.  My days are fast.  I don't have enough time to squeeze it all in.  I make slice n bake cookies and frozen pizzas.  Trips to the pool are a memory and we start the busy~ness of our school year.  I am thankful to have the freedom to homeschool and I truly feel this is what God has called us to do...again this year...and that may change one year.  It won't be this year.  So.  I press on.  I will choose to dwell on what is good and in the knowledge that what He has called me to do, He will see me through.  But see. I'm no one special.  I have doubts about teaching the "hard stuff."  I do, at times, think I am crazy.  But I am in the trenches like every other back to school mom.  

Rearview Mirror Faith

I watched him walk away in my rearview mirror.  Hot tears were streaming down my cheeks as I pulled away.  I was finding myself at a point where I was no longer in control of every little thing in my son's life.  I found I was more of a spectator, a prayer warrior, in the life of this young man walking away from my car.  But I wasn't liking that in this moment.  I wanted everything to be in a neat box.  My neat box.    

How did we get to this point?  Why does it just seem like yesterday he was 18 months old playing with a pumpkin on my sidewalk?

Everything in me knew I had to pull away and everything in me wanted to go back and get him. He was starting his second day of baseball conditioning with the local high school.  Knowing no one.  He had been nervous pulling up and that made me more.  As I pulled out of the parking lot of Battery Creek High School suddenly the music seemed so loud and my desperation seemed to overcome me.  I turned off the music and instead of turning right I pulled the steering wheel quickly left to head to the back side of the field hoping on one hand to see a quick peek of him and on the other hand praying no one would see me.  As I drove slowly past the field, the chain link fence was covered with a green tarp and even in the small tear in center field, without my glasses and the players congregated in the dug out, they all looked the same to me.  I had no choice but to drive home.  

The tears flowed freely again.  In the silence, the only sound was my sobs.  

God.  I need you to be with him.  You know.  You see him and I can't.  Please.  Please be right there with him.  Like you were last year.  Like you were when he needed a friend moving to Beaufort.  Like when you drew him close when his Daddy deployed.  He needs you.  I need you to be with him.  I need you.

Slowly, my silent heart prayer became audible. Talking out loud I poured out my heart as the sobs came.  It felt good to share my doubts and I knew He was listening.

I guess I blinked.  Everyone warned me.  But I must have blinked. 

The time, that seemed to have moved so quickly, in that moment in the parking lot really hadn't been moving that quickly at all.  But it was as if, snapshots over the past few months made me realize that he was a young man right before my eyes.  

I first noticed it a few weeks back.  It wasn't until trading seats stopped on the side of the road one day did I really take  notice.  My Logan was no longer a boy.  He was a man.  And my heart skipped a beat.  

We occasionally stop before the entrance to our neighborhood to switch seats and let him finish the short, uneventful drive home.  He has been driving the golf cart around the neighborhood for years, the jeep on the deer lease for even longer, and G-Paw's jeep on a dirt track last year.  I figured, a quick half a mile in our neighborhood is the easiest of all by far.  We had been talking quite a bit about the safety and laws of driving.  He's been figuring out mirrors and pedals and his mother's comfort zone.  I remember one conversation as I was driving one day.

"What's the rearview mirror for?  Seems silly."

"Even though you need to keep your eyes forward, it's good to check your rearview mirror every now and then."

Along all of those quick trips, it wasn't until one day I looked over at his hands holding the steering wheel.  They looked just like Patrick's.  They were huge.  Long fingers.  Steady.  Sure.  It wasn't that small hand that used to grab mine.  It wasn't the small hand that would reach out to hand me things.  Or the one that pushed his Hot Wheels along.  Or even the ones that just a year before had built Legos for hours.  He had the hands of the man. And in that moment, I realized he was closer to being a grown man than he was my little boy.  In that moment watching his hands drive home, I missed my little boy.  

I didn't think of those hands again until I watched him walk away in the rearview mirror.  It was that very question about the rearview mirror God brought to mind and that I pondered on that day as I drove home.  

In all of the unknowns of what lies ahead for him, what he heading toward, and the things he will face, God flooded my mind with sweet memories of my first born son.  Precious memories.  Times where it was just the two of us pushing through a long deployment. Then, two. Then, six.  Memories of the three of us at our first homecoming. The six of us at his last.  Memories of trips taken.  Talks had.  Prayers shared.  I was looking behind to God's faithfulness.  God’s rearview mirror.  I was remembering His works of old.  In that moment, He was overwhelming me with His provision, His presence, His love.  God was always telling His people, the Israelites, not to forget.  To remember.  To look back on His faithfulness and be encouraged when the unknown was ahead.  In that suburban, just my Father and I, He spoke to my heart, quieted my sobs, and calmed my anxious thoughts.  He was right there.  I know it. He was so real in that car.  As I drove, I talked and I shared with Him my fears and doubts, and yet, it was as if He kept turning my thoughts to my spiritual rearview mirror, saying, 

Look my child.  Look at my faithfulness.  Remember.  I love him. And I love you. I have loved you with an everlasting love.  And him.  

Holy hindsight.  It was His gift to me that day. I was loved.  He was almost audible, so much so I kept wanting to look over at the seat next to me.  He was so close, I knew He was there.

"...but your own eyes have seen all the great work of the Lord which He did." Deuteronomy 11:7  

I talked.  He listened.  He spoke to my soul.  I listened.  I cried more.  But my heart was calmed.  He calmed me by showing me His rearview mirror.  Showing me where I've been.  Where He brought me.  And Who had been there.  

"When I remember You on my bed, I meditate on You in the night watches, For you have been my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.  My soul clings to You; Your right hand upholds me."

Psalm 63:6-8 

As I pulled into the garage and the door shut,  I sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.  In quiet.  But my heart was full.  I remembered.  He reminded me.  He was right there.  My days with my growing children may not get easier, they will look different as I move forward with each of them, and I do still have a lot of mothering left.  But I will have my rearview mirror faith.  And I will check it.  I will remember. 

"I don't need to know where I'm going, I just need to know where I've been."

~Mater from Cars

41 Random Thoughts

Today I turn 41 and I am so thankful to be 41.  I am not scared, embarrassed, or nervous about being 41.  My days are numbered and I see each one as another opportunity to glorify God, apologize, fix my wrongs, make steps forward, love my family, serve those whom God puts in my path, make a difference in the lives of those God crosses my path with, and grow in my relationship with my heavenly Father and those around me.  Overnight I have come to realize I am an older woman God speaks of in Titus 2.  I am not the oldest woman but I am definitely not the youngest.  I am still learning.  Yet I can encourage.  A wise woman once told me that I would always be an older woman to my girls and I have enjoyed encouraging them but I now also know that as I move in and out of seasons of my mothering, I am not to neglect those coming behind me.  Sitting here on my birthday, I have 41 random thoughts.

#41~Pizza is always better with an ice cold Coke.  Not Coke Zero.  Not Diet Coke. Not Cherry Coke.  And definitely NOT Pepsi.  There it's off my chest.

#40~Babies won't always be babies.  Be with them while they are.  Love them.  Hold them.  Sing to them.  They won't always be up in the middle of the night.  Try to treasure those moments.  Pray for them when you feel like you don't have an ounce left.  Funny how a prayer to the Creator of life, can put just enough fuel in the tank to take the next moment with patience.

#39~An hour run in the dark is better than just one more hour of sleep.  I never regret a run but I have always regretted trading one for sleep.

#38~Having a teenage son is a great thing.  It doesn't have to be an "Oh you just wait" kind of time.  Do your teaching and training way before he has to look down at you to look at you and it can be a joy.

#37~As a piggy back to number #38....even when you think you have disciplined your toddler for the same thing 15 times in one day.....discipline your toddler for the same thing 15 times in one day if that is what is needed for him to learn.  It's ok to say, "I love you but you may not behave this way."  Don't ever stop teaching and training.

#36~Even when you don't feel like you are, be a brick wall.  Say it out loud.  Your kids need you to be a brick wall and one day they may thank you for it.

#35~Don't count to three.  Take care of their behavior before you say 1.  Cars don't care if you are only on number 2 when they run over a runaway child in the street, fire is as hot on 1 as it will be on 3, a knife is just as sharp on 1, and a pool is just as deep.  If your child can obey by "2 1/2...you better come here," they can obey the first time.  Teach your children first time obedience.  Your requests don't always have the luxury of waiting until 3.

#34~Get up with your husband to see him off to work.  No one likes to walk around a dark quiet house.

#33~On that note, smile at him when he walks in the door...and a genuine one at that.  It's amazing what a smile conveys...even if your day has been hard.  Chances are...his was hard too.

#32~Clean feet before getting into bed makes you sleep better...a whole bath is better but at the very least, the feet.  Not sure if this is a proven fact, but I can not go to bed with dirty feet.

#31~I bleed maroon.  Texas A&M is my favorite place on earth.

#30~The sound of a jet spooling up can make me cry.

#29~There's not much sweeter than a child's prayer.

#28~When you do have to discipline your children, make sure you always tell them you are only doing it because you care about the young man/woman they become.  Say, "I love you too much to let you behave this way."  The Bible says that a parent that doesn't discipline, hates their child.  I want them to know, they are my job.  It is my job to teach and train them.

#27~It's my job to work myself out of a job.

#26~When your sons do something helpful or kind, tell them how much one day their wife will love and appreciate them when they do that.

#25~Teach your girls that a lady never purposely draws attention to herself.. in the way she dresses, acts, talks, etc.

#24~Teach your girls to make kissing knees when they sit down, to have self-control, and to speak like a lady.  Never buy them a dress that they can't sit like a lady...even if they are sitting like a lady.

#23~Sometimes a bowl of "fun cereal" at night is the perfect end to a hard day.

#22~Teach your boys and girls how to clean a bathroom, make a simple meal, do laundry.

#21~Boys should hold doors open for girls, older people, ....and generally anyone.

#20~Children should look adults in their eyes when they are speaking to them and should not interrupt an adult conversation.  You don't have to teach them yes ma'am and no sirs, but please teach them not to say, "Yea."

#19~I love to see red-faced, sweaty boys working in yards to earn summer money.  It teaches them responsibility and not to shy away from hard work.

#18~Home should be a child's safe place to land...and your man's.

#17~Baseball games and dance recitals are more fun to watch if you see your own sweet faces up there.

#16~My love and appreciation for my mother grows with every passing day and moment.

#15~Coffee is God's gift to my mornings. Even better coffee and my Bible on my front porch in the fall.  I love it.

#14~My marriage was instantly sweeter, stronger, and more fun once I learned that every thought in my head doesn't have to come out of my mouth.  I'm busy teaching my 14 year old the same thing.

#13~I secretly love my June Bug.  Thanks to my little sister Megan.

#12~A run is so much more fun with your oldest sister.

#11~God has blessed me with four best friends in my life (not counting my sisters or hubby)....one when I was 6, one my sophomore year at A&M, one when we started TBS and one in our first squadron.  One has passed away, one forgave me for a stupid choice of mine in high school and our friendship is stronger because of it, one walked me through every moment of college, and one just gets me, still.  I don't talk to any of them near enough but when we do, it's like we never missed a day.

#10~I love making cookies.

#9~Yellow cake and chocolate frosting can only truly be enjoyed with your three sisters.  Just once in your life, lick the frosting out of the tub in the parking lot of the grocery store.  Don't tell anyone.  Watch their faces when they go to frost the cake. I love my three sisters. Each of them for such different reasons.

#8~As soon as your eyes open in the morning, praise and thank God for allowing another day to begin.  No matter what you face that day.  No day is promised but everyday is a gift.

#7~Read bedtime stories to your kids.  Even when they're 14.  The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is so much more fun enjoyed together.

#6~Being late is one of my biggest pet peeves.

#5~For that matter, so are mean people.

#4~I have learned the hard way some people will not forgive.  As far as it depends on me, I am at peace with everyone I know; it took me years to do that but I have.  I have apologized, asked for forgiveness, and waited.  I can't control then what they do beyond that.

#3~My life is sweeter by the 5 people God has placed in my home.  I love my four kids.  I truly LIKE my husband.  My house has laughter and fun.  It's not always perfect and we have our moments, but my life is sweet.  And I am thankful.

#2~I am a blood-bought, born again child of God.  Jesus Christ is my life.  I want that statement to be true of my thoughts, words, and actions every day.  At the end of my life, I hope that is what they say about me....oh and that I loved my husband and loved my kids.

#1~I am joyful.  In my heart, I am joyful.  Today, I am thankful to be 41.

Jitter's Purpose

Jitter Bug

January 2012-August 2013

"But WHY did she have to die, Mom?"

The questions had been coming since Jitter's passing Friday night.  The conversations had been easy, sweet, and comforting.  There were many hugs, lots of tears, and funny stories.  Who knew a small, Chinese dwarf hamster could have meant so much to a 9 year old little girl.  

We said goodbye to Jitter Bug Friday night.  After discovering a large tumor under her chin on Thursday, watching her suffer through the night and next day, her passing was a relief in many ways.  But it still did not make it easy for a little girl who had loved this hamster.  

God is good though and the conversations that followed were sweet.  We talked so much about death, our fallen world, our sin, our faith in Jesus Christ, and heaven.  We pondered on how it must have been in the garden and how God never intended for this kind of death and suffering to be a part of His Creation and how it would all be right again in Heaven.  All of these questions of the "why," of Jitter's death were so easy for me to answer. 

It wasn't until the "what" question, did she cause me to sit and ponder.

"What was Jitter's purpose Mom?  If everything has a purpose, what was hers?" 

I had never really bonded with Jitter.  She was too much like a rodent and she nibbled on fingers in her first few weeks of being a Fitzgerald.  I knew I was done with her then.  Lillie Grace had asked for a hamster for several months and when her 8th birthday rolled around, her Daddy knew exactly what to get her.  Enter Jitter Bug Fitzgerald.  At first, she was a novelty and all four kids loved her, played with her, and were fascinated by her.  One by one though the newness wore off, for everyone except Lil.  She loved Jitter and would play with her for hours.  She loved to put her in her ball and watch her roll outside in the grass.  She made obstacle courses for her to run through and she knew her favorite treats such as grapes and cucumbers.  It was her responsibility to clean her cage each week, check her food and water, and make sure she had time outside of her cage to play.  Lillie took her job very seriously.  She never failed to remember when a week had passed, she played with her daily, and talked to her constantly.  Jitter had grown fond of Lillie too and Lillie had the only hands she would not bite.  Lillie could hold her for hours and Jitter would be very content.  

What was her purpose?  Simple.  For Lillie.

God used Jitter to grow my sweet girl.  She matured in so many ways taking care of this sweet, big-eyed rodent....ahem...hamster.  God used her to teach Lillie responsibility.  Jitter was cared for better then I ever could've.  In the beginning, when I took responsibility for the cleaning of her cage, I often forgot.  I would've gone weeks had it not been for sweet reminders from my girl.  Jitter taught Lillie a softer side of herself.  My brave, independent girl needed someone to be dependent on her.  Someone was counting on her and for the first time she had to think of someone other than herself.  She learned how much her siblings loved her.  One cried with her, one wrote her a poem and drew a picture, and one provided the hug she needed at just the right moment.  She honored God in the way she cared for one of His creatures.  She learned about life....and about death.  She learned that somethings can't be fixed.  She learned that sometimes the hurt in loving something is worth the time spent loving.  Her eyes were opened to the reality that everyone around her has an end and to spend what time she has loving those around her.  Jitter had a purpose.  I can't know every purpose God had planned in bringing Jitter into the Fitzgerald family, but He's allowed me to see some.  

As I pondered these things on the front steps with my first born girl, I was thankful for the little rodent.  I was thankful that she had been allowed to be a Fitzgerald and that Jitter would forever be a part of Lillie's memory.  Before I could voice any of these realizations....

"I know her purpose Mom."

I looked into her tear filled eyes.

"She needed to know how Fitzgerald's love."