What Would I Say

What I wish I could say to my daddy:

First of all, I've missed you. I've missed the advice you could give me about these boys. I've missed standing on my tip-toes, as an adult, to hug you and kiss your cheek. I've missed those puppy-dog eyes smiling back at me.

I've missed your bar-b-q. And the pride that you took in your techniques.

And I've even missed your quirks. I miss trying to control my laughter while watching you put a stamp on an envelope. I miss how you would get up out of your chair just to walk across the room and pick up the piece of lint on the floor. And just the other day, I smiled at your oldest grandson when he was putting the trash can liner in the trash can. He must have shaken the liner 20 times before he put it in there.

He's a lot like you; he likes things to be "just so." As they ought to be.

Notice the empty pockets after purchasing his new truck.

I've missed sharing our home school with you. I remember when I was first talking about doing it, I almost dreaded your response. You would think I was insane, completely fallen off the deep end. Much to my surprise, you wanted to see the catalog I was ordering curriculum from and you asked me a million questions about how it works, what we'll do, and what the benefits were. You were never condescending, just curious. You showed interest, and it fueled my passion for my kids' education like nothing else.

I wish you could see them now. I wish you could throw the ball in the back yard with them and ride the rides with them at Six Flags. If you were still here, you'd still be young enough! I try to tell them about you, so they remember your name. It's so hard when only one of the three has his own memories of you. The other two have so much to leave to imagination.

 Dad's last Christmas with us. 

Mini me was 4; Brown Eyes was 2 months old.

So many memories are flooding my mind. I remember the first Thanksgiving meal I cooked for our whole family. I was so nervous because I knew how partial you were to "how it had always been" and I wanted to make it right for you, as well as for my own husband, who had his own ideas. It was a big day for me and in the end all seemed satisfied; I was well pleased.

By the way, mom told me what you said about my "alternative" dressing. She said you really liked it, but you weren't going to tell me that. I guess you wanted me to sweat it out. And that's okay; I knew the truth.

One of my favorite memories is so simple, so elemental, yet it was so profound to me. You had suffered multiple strokes and couldn't talk, but you were still very alert. There were several people standing around your hospital bed, and I was settled somewhat at a distance, allowing everyone else to have their time with you. You turned your head to face me, and motioned with your hand for me to come to you. I thought you needed something, so I grabbed your hand and asked, "What do you need, dad?" You firmly grasped my hand, closed your eyes, and I knew you had what you needed. You were never the type to display much affection; the fact that you singled me out in a room full of people meant the world to me.

I remember giving you a haircut in the hospital, too. I was so nervous about that because of how particular you could be, but you couldn't have seemed more relaxed. I never would have believed at the time that it was going to be your last haircut. What a privilege that was for me.

After we had to let you go, I was so thankful to have that night of "Heaven's Gates" to cling to. I would be willing to bet that now, after seeing Christ face to face, you hold that memory dear to you too. I remember after the presentation, everyone in the cast was asked to come forward to the alter and pray with those who had responded to the call to salvation...and there were a great many. After I prayed with a few of the ladies up front, I remember walking toward the back and looking to where you and mom had been sitting. You were both gone.

I truly expected that because you were always the one to leave a place before the crowd did. "I want to get out of the parking lot!" You would say. So I just knew that you two had left once the invitation had begun. I was devastated, but I just couldn't give up the hope that you were still there somewhere.

People were everywhere. Every. Where. I peeked inside the counseling rooms to see if I could spot you or mom anywhere. Please God, let them still be here. At the exact moment that I peered around the corner, you stood up from talking with a counselor. I had never been so blissfully surprised in all my life! To think that you had actually walked forward, in the middle of that huge crowd, and told someone that you wanted to receive Christ for yourself was almost more than this little girl's heart could contain! It was the very thing I had hoped and prayed for...but could hardly believe!

It was only two short years before we lost you. Mom and I both agree we saw some major changes in your life after that night at our church. And I have to admit, sometimes I wonder why God didn't let you stay a little longer and develop that young faith that was born in you. But who am I to question the very One who created you? His wisdom supremely outweighs mine, and His jurisdiction reaches eminently further than mine. Just to say the very least.

What I can say is this: I am so thankful that I have the assurance that you truly trusted Christ that night, and I'm thankful for the hope that brings. I will see you again someday, and we'll have all the time we need to talk about all you've been seeing these last years.

Thank you, dad, for persevering beyond the difficulties of growing up, and for overcoming so much to provide a good childhood for me. I never felt neglected, undervalued, or unloved by you. I recognize that you loved me in the best way you knew how, and I love you for that. Don't worry about the times when you feel like you failed me, because I already know what that feels like; I've failed too. But our God redeemed it all and my eyes are wide open to this fact: you cherished your only daughter.

And I love you too. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

 Me, Daddy, and Momma

Preserving the United States of America

I have spent a lot of emotional energy this year on Memorial Day.

Some of the reason for that is because at times I am overwhelmed with thankfulness, like yesterday in church when all of our service men and women were asked to stand so we could offer our gratitude and respect for them. Literally hundreds of people stood tall and strong, some in uniform and some not. Most had tears in their eyes it seemed...I suspect tears of honor, of deep love for our country, and perhaps some were tears of painful wartime memories.

Sometimes I am stirred, though, because I can feel the sting of many years of not realizing how much so many have sacrificed. I knew that many had lived their entire lives defending our freedom. I even knew that many had died in the very act of defending our freedom. But the fact is, for so many years, I took our liberty for granted. I never considered their cost, because it hadn't cost me a thing.

God, forgive me for being so selfish.


Now, it feels like I'm making up for all those years of not paying attention; not truly remembering people I don't know, those who made a decision early in their lives to protect my freedom to be self-centered. There is an awakening in me the older I get and with the more men and women I see in uniform...with their strong brow of commitment and determination, but tender eyes of compassion and patriotism. And they've known all along what may be required of them, but they serve with courage anyway.

There is one other recurring thought that I will leave you with this weekend:


Why are we, as a nation, now so willing to literally give away what they've fought so hard to preserve? 

God, please, help us wake up and be willing to preserve the foundation You prepared for this great country.

Karl Marx once said, "A people without a heritage are easily persuaded." Will we be those people? Will we be easily persuaded because we've allowed our heritage of patriotism and love of country to be displaced by love of self? God help us.

I've Fallen Off the Wagon

I couldn't resist any longer.

It's been a busy year, but with school coming to a pseudo-close, I got back on Facebook.

I know, what was I thinking?

I mean, sure, I remember the post I wrote about why I left it behind. But since the school year is winding down, and I'm no longer going to be "trying a new curriculum," you know, since I've already been doing it all year,
I think I can handle it.

Besides, this time, I know what to expect. I know where to draw the line before it gets insane.

No more Farmtown.

No more weirdo gifts to be obligated to pass around.

Sending a flying cockroach to my middle-school-childhood BFF was fun, but, it's been done now. No reason to do it again.

And absolutely no more goofy quizzes. Unless of course I find one that tells me what Mystery Science Theater 3000 robot I am. I might make an exception for that one.

Oh, and I'll pass on the Lil' Green Patch too. Sheesh. Do you have any idea how much time I spent watering, raking, and sending cabbage-patch-looking plants to people?

No more.

It's a Social Networking site, and that's what I intend to use it for. Anything else is just time abuse. See ya there!

Flashback Friday - Early Jobs

How old were you when you got your first (paying) job? Did you work during the school year? What stipulations, if any, did your parents put on spending, saving, etc.? What types of jobs did you have before you were, oh, 21 or 22? Did you go to college or a technical/trade school? If so, did you work while you were pursuing your post-high school education? What were your favorite -- and least favorite, if you wish to share! -- jobs? What did you learn from those early jobs?

I'd love to tell you that my first job was something cool, like a child actress at Walt Disneyworld or as an intern at NASA, or as a tester for Godiva chocolate. I'd love to say that I spent my first year after high school giving tour guides on the Mediterranean or cycling in Paris, France. The title "travel journalist" unfortunately has never graced my resume.

I flipped burgers for McDonalds. Life can be so cruel.


Shortly after I got the job, I acquired a second summer job working for The Go Round in the mall. It was a high fashion store in the late 80's that all the hip people shopped at. It capitalized on short-lived fashion fads, which is a stroke of genius being that fads come and go almost monthly. Especially in the 80's.

For me, it was a way to acquire a cool gnarley-dude-radical wardrobe and work with my best-ies.

Probably the most interesting thing about that job was the MC Hammer pants I used to wear to work. Most people would get fired for wearing stuff like this to their job:

But, believe it or not, we sold them.

The best part of the McD's job was the free lunches. For a poor high school student, you can't beat a free lunch.

That's what I did the summer before my senior year. After graduation, I went to college in San Antonio and worked on campus at the cafe by the dorms. That was a fun job. I got to know a lot of people who lived on campus that way, and I didn't have to drive to work...which made it a lot easier to be on time every day.

Especially in those up-all-night college years where one tries to sleep until exactly three and half minutes before one must be at work. Eh hem.

Anywho, the guy that ran the cafe had a catering business on the side, and he would pull from his staff at the cafe to serve at the weddings/parties he catered. That was a lot of fun, and it was the closest I ever got to waitressing.

I worked as a telemarketer for a while after that. I don't really want to talk about it.


Shortly afterwards, I moved back home and went to work for the USO. Yeah, as in Bob Hope. Only I didn't ship out to all the servicemen in all the world wearing little more than a half a coat dress.

But I did get to work at the Naval Air Station and serve coffee, freshly baked cookies, and cable TV to those on our base. Really, I worked in the office most often, but it was fun non-the-less.

And no, I never dated a fly-boy.

So anyway, I think I'll stop there. I could go on to the other jobs I had after this one, but they were mostly office jobs that, although I enjoyed most of them, they are not much to write about. Plus, at some point, these memories must eventually become non-flashbacks.

Hop on over to Mocha with Linda and check out some other peoples' answers for Flashback Friday!

Out of House and Home

I have a concern.

Let's just get down to the nitty-gritty of it, shall we?

Why is it that my 12 yo boy, who has recently shared with me that he now has hair under his arms, has suddenly reverted back to being an infant in a five foot tall body?

Observe Exhibits A, B, and C as follows:

• He's a grump of epic proportion if he gets less than 10 hours of sleep. He actually prefers 12 out of the 24 he's given.

• He cries at the drop of a hat. Or a baseball glove. Or a lego truck. Don't ask. 

• My first-born wants to eat...literally...every two hours. Just like a newborn.

Seriously? Is this going to happen with all of them? Because I don't think my husband and I together could make enough money to feed them all if this is going to continue. That's if I made any money at all.

I think I'll search Craigslist and see if there's anyone out there willing to pay a salary for doing laundry. I'm really good at that. My experience here is colossal.

Silver lining: At least he hasn't reverted back to diapers. Yet.  
For this I can be eternally grateful.

The Real Reason I Miss the 80's

Our former President Ronald Reagan had some incredible insight. This was recorded in 1961, while still an actor and a budding political voice. Incidentally, he was saying these things during the same time his political views were changing; the next year he officially changed political parties and became a Republican.

Listen to what he says about socialized medicine. There's a line at the beginning that completely blew me away; let's see if you can spot it.

I've been two-timing, but I haven't abandoned...

Would you like to see what I've been up to in my silence? Well, at least one thing?

Check out my new blog for the Russia Mission team that is heading out next month! Be sure and read the Welcome post to learn about the trip and the place we will be going...

Please be praying for our team as they all prepare for the trip. I say "they" because I'm not actually going. {sniff} I want to SO badly, but it seems that this is not the right time for me. So, I am doing battle for them on the homefront by volunteering as their Prayer Captain. The blog is where you can find our prayer requests and reports about how things are going.

Please pray for us. Everyone on the team wants God to do a mighty work through each of us on this trip. Please pray that God's hand would be upon us, His spirit would abound in us, and His Word would abide in us.

Thanks so much for your prayer and interest in our mission.

Light to Desnogorsk Russia