What do you want for Christmas? During this season, I ask this question often to my family and friends. However, when someone asks me, I hesitate. When I look around at my home with toys strewn about, laundry needing to be put away, and various other items cluttering each space, I immediately think about a maid service. Then I realize that once it is clean, it will only become disorganized in a short amount of time. I ponder the question: what do I really want for Christmas?
As a single parent, I sometimes long for time to slow down. I’d like to have a remote control that could freeze special moments. Maybe I could rewind the time and visit a fall day at the Quad with my sons, riding their bikes, chasing squirrels, and drinking Yoo-Hoos. Other times, I’d like a crystal ball to be able to see into the future. Often, I attempt to form a game plan for the next five years, only to rewrite the same plan, then crumple it up and throw it away.
As I look around my den filled with Fisher-Price trucks, cars and airplanes, I see items that are tied to this moment in time. Some of these toys I know from my childhood; others came from last Christmas or a birthday. Still, there are those toys that seemed to appear from nowhere. Perhaps Santa did bring these toys after all. Yet, in a few years, these toys will be replaced with video games, athletic uniforms, and various items that interest my sons. Much later, the den will hold new furniture, as the old will be in a college dorm or apartment as my oldest son moves out. That is, if the furniture can hold up to two active boys and one spry shih tzu.
When I think about what I want for Christmas, I long for what truly satisfies me (and it is not a Snickers bar). Here are a few things I’d like:
The pureness of my two sons’ laughter. I’m not talking about just a giggle, but a down-in-your-gut laugh that turns faces red and sprouts tears from your eyes kind of laugh;
The true Word of God, not spoken from a pastor, but found in my Bible while I’m searching and praying and then there is it, as though God really heard me, because in truth, He really did hear me;
The honorable relationships of those who persist, remain, and hang in there; they may fail or disappoint, but they are my friends and family; they are behind me no matter what, even when I fail or disappoint;
The lovely and lovable, which includes all nature, even those nasty spiders; the beautiful people who make your face hurt when you look at them; and the annoying people who think that they are the sun, having the world revolve around their every whim. Everything God creates is meant to be valued, to be cherished, and to be noticed. Everyone has a purpose beyond simply existing. To ignore someone or to treat someone unfairly insults the creation of God.
The excellence of pursuing our passions. Beyond our family and friends, our passion is what makes us who we are. It is doing what makes us come alive. I love the arts--dancing, acting, and writing. This love I have for the arts is how He designed me. They are there for a purpose beyond this world. By pursuing these interests, I learn about the God who created me to love these things.
So what do you want for Christmas? Yes, that condo in Palm Springs would be nice. A bank account with unlimited funds isn’t bad either. Yet, when we think about our legacy and what each of us leaves behind, perhaps the desire for material gifts changes. Instead, I long for something that lasts for generations.
The greatest gift ever given was one that has and will last forever. It is the gift of God’s son, Jesus. That gift was (and is) true, noble, pure, lovely, and excellent. As a single parent, you will face changes, struggles, or loneliness this Christmas. Instead of charging that credit card to the max, buying another Chia pet, or getting the latest gadget that peels potatoes or finds your keys, think about what you really want to get (and give) this Christmas. Seek those gifts that last for a lifetime. Pursue the One that loves you unconditionally. He knows you completely and longs to give the greatest gift ever--eternal life. Then give gifts of truth, nobleness, purity, loveliness, and excellence to those you meet today. Merry Christmas!
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy---think about such things.” Philippians 4:8.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Change
$1.25. That’s how much incisors and bicuspids go for nowadays. The tooth fairy has met the demand of inflation. My snaggle-toothed son Hunter had lost his front tooth and knew exactly what he wanted to find under his pillow--$1.25. So the pixie searched and found a few quarters to fit the bill and a sleepy gapped toothed angel awoke to find some change to put in his portly piggy bank.
Change. It’s kind of everywhere I look. I find it in the cushions of my couch, the bottom of my purse, and sometimes on my classroom floor. I don’t really mind it. After collecting it for a while, Hunter, Parker, and I count it and call it “summer fun money.” It pays for ice cream on a hot summer day, a happy meal or two, and delights the boys for hours to toss pennies in the fountains in the mall. (Okay, may not hours, but at least a good thirty minutes if you ration the pennies right.)
Sometimes change is annoying. I’m not talking about the shiny kind. Instead, it’s what happens every day, every hour, every minute….change is occurring and there is nothing I can do about it. I used to think about what changes would occur in ten years. I envisioned my career and my family. After getting married and having kids, I shortened that number to five. After becoming a single parent, I started looking at one year.
Every year promises one thing--change. Other than God’s love, change is the only thing I can really count on. I know that everyone will get a little older and things won’t be the same. Sometimes I get nostalgic and miss the times when Hunter and Parker were little babies, just big enough to be cuddled and rocked. I think about when Hunter said his first words and Parker laughed a real laugh. I think of birthdays, Christmas, and memories made in what seemed like another lifetime. It is sometimes hard and weird to remember those times as I see pictures of myself from long ago. Even pictures of myself from five years ago don’t really look like me. I recognize the face, but I don’t really feel like that person anymore.
However, I am reminded of what is constant--God’s love for me--no matter what happens. I’m never without the One who has my best interest at heart. In Romans 8:39 in The Message Bible, it states, “I am absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
Ecclesiastes 3:1 speaks of seasons in life by saying “There is an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on earth.“ (The Message) In this season of my life, I am a mom to two incredible kids, a teacher to some remarkable students, a friend to some unique and loyal people, a daughter to compassionate parents, a sister to my hero (my sister), a cousin to my closest friend (my cousin), and the list goes on. This season is about finding who I am and who I want to be. It is not about gaining and earning, but breathing and living in a moment that is changing way too fast. Right now my boys hug and kiss on me like I’m better than warm chocolate chip cookies. Right now my parents play a vital role in my children’s lives. Right now cardboard boxes and Play-Doh are all part of pretty fabulous day. Right now a little bit of change under a pillow can delight a child--even if it’s just $1.25.
So I’ll take that change--all of it. The shiny kind and the not so sparkling kind--because I know that with growth, there must be change. In order for me to be who God wants me to be, I must grow and that means one thing--change. However, I will become what God has planned all along. He completes the good work in me that He has promised to do as He says in Philippians 1:6 “ There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.“(The Message.) It won’t be easy. It won’t be painless. I’ll lose something as I gain other things. But as the Master works on me and helps me change, then the seasons will come and go and I’ll be alive in them. I’ll experience fully what each season brings. I’ll cherish the happy memories, cry over the sad moments, and laugh fully and wholeheartedly any chance I get.
I don’t know what changes the year 2008 will bring. I do know more teeth will be lost and a fairy will have to find $1.25 to put under a pillow. Just as Hunter and Parker have surprises to come, I know God has some pretty shiny and sparkling moments of change to come and surprise me, too. Best of all, I’ll shine like gold, as He purifies me and makes me into who He wants. I’ll sparkle and shine like a million diamonds, not just a $1.25.
Change. It’s kind of everywhere I look. I find it in the cushions of my couch, the bottom of my purse, and sometimes on my classroom floor. I don’t really mind it. After collecting it for a while, Hunter, Parker, and I count it and call it “summer fun money.” It pays for ice cream on a hot summer day, a happy meal or two, and delights the boys for hours to toss pennies in the fountains in the mall. (Okay, may not hours, but at least a good thirty minutes if you ration the pennies right.)
Sometimes change is annoying. I’m not talking about the shiny kind. Instead, it’s what happens every day, every hour, every minute….change is occurring and there is nothing I can do about it. I used to think about what changes would occur in ten years. I envisioned my career and my family. After getting married and having kids, I shortened that number to five. After becoming a single parent, I started looking at one year.
Every year promises one thing--change. Other than God’s love, change is the only thing I can really count on. I know that everyone will get a little older and things won’t be the same. Sometimes I get nostalgic and miss the times when Hunter and Parker were little babies, just big enough to be cuddled and rocked. I think about when Hunter said his first words and Parker laughed a real laugh. I think of birthdays, Christmas, and memories made in what seemed like another lifetime. It is sometimes hard and weird to remember those times as I see pictures of myself from long ago. Even pictures of myself from five years ago don’t really look like me. I recognize the face, but I don’t really feel like that person anymore.
However, I am reminded of what is constant--God’s love for me--no matter what happens. I’m never without the One who has my best interest at heart. In Romans 8:39 in The Message Bible, it states, “I am absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
Ecclesiastes 3:1 speaks of seasons in life by saying “There is an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on earth.“ (The Message) In this season of my life, I am a mom to two incredible kids, a teacher to some remarkable students, a friend to some unique and loyal people, a daughter to compassionate parents, a sister to my hero (my sister), a cousin to my closest friend (my cousin), and the list goes on. This season is about finding who I am and who I want to be. It is not about gaining and earning, but breathing and living in a moment that is changing way too fast. Right now my boys hug and kiss on me like I’m better than warm chocolate chip cookies. Right now my parents play a vital role in my children’s lives. Right now cardboard boxes and Play-Doh are all part of pretty fabulous day. Right now a little bit of change under a pillow can delight a child--even if it’s just $1.25.
So I’ll take that change--all of it. The shiny kind and the not so sparkling kind--because I know that with growth, there must be change. In order for me to be who God wants me to be, I must grow and that means one thing--change. However, I will become what God has planned all along. He completes the good work in me that He has promised to do as He says in Philippians 1:6 “ There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.“(The Message.) It won’t be easy. It won’t be painless. I’ll lose something as I gain other things. But as the Master works on me and helps me change, then the seasons will come and go and I’ll be alive in them. I’ll experience fully what each season brings. I’ll cherish the happy memories, cry over the sad moments, and laugh fully and wholeheartedly any chance I get.
I don’t know what changes the year 2008 will bring. I do know more teeth will be lost and a fairy will have to find $1.25 to put under a pillow. Just as Hunter and Parker have surprises to come, I know God has some pretty shiny and sparkling moments of change to come and surprise me, too. Best of all, I’ll shine like gold, as He purifies me and makes me into who He wants. I’ll sparkle and shine like a million diamonds, not just a $1.25.
Homesick
I stare at a blank computer screen. I type words that seem to fall onto the page and make a mirage of obscure angles and designs. I feel like this piece of paper--empty, incomplete, and void. My eyes hurt from too many tears. My hands shake as I try to put my emotions into words. You see, there seems to have been so much loss lately. A friend of mine just called to tell me his granddaughter was killed in a car accident. His heart is ripped and he is crying tears that won’t be wiped away.
Recently, I heard about a two-year-old killed, a lady who lost her husband and child in a car accident, and another young child who had drown in a swimming pool. Some of you may have experienced these losses. You may have been the one whose loved one has gone on to heaven. At this point, I want to say I’m sorry.
My mind explodes with questions of “why” and from those, I only get silence. I feel hollow and small. Life’s pressures suddenly become unimportant. Friends and family seem to glow like fire and I want to hang on to them, hug them, and love them like crazy. All the petty differences seem just that--petty.
Life can sometimes be so incredibly awful. The pain from devastating events, tragic losses, and outright unfairness of this world can be too much. I’ve written about change and how it is to come no matter what. Often, I don’t want change to come. I fight it, ignore it, and curse its name. I hate it. I really do.
When things like this happen, my faith is so tiny. I doubt, question, punch the wall, and fall into a heap. Some people have complimented me on the faith I seem to have. Notice the key word: ‘seem’. To be quite honest, I doubt my faith often. I question God about everything and in my fit of emotion, I don’t take time to listen to His answers.
I can’t understand why something like this happens. I look at the brevity of life, the flash of moments that accentuate time passing by. It’s in these moments that I long for God to come back and take us home.
Since I know His home is the best place to be, I don’t want God to leave anyone behind. I want Him to snatch us all up and whisk us away on a magic carpet.
As I walk through my new home that He has prepared, I’ll see my Paw Paw Evans wave as he pulls some peanuts from his incredible garden. My ears will pick up the sounds from The Kingsmen as my Paw Paw Bridges quietly nods his head my way. I find my former students Elyse, Kate, and Jennifer acting silly somewhere and I‘ll have to join in with their antics and then bear hug them all. I’ll see so many who still linger in my mind and who have shaped who I am.
Then I’ll see Him--the One who knows me like no one else. I don’t know what I’ll do when I am face to face with my Savior, but I envision myself running full force into his open arms. I imagine a lot of laughter that just makes my sides hurt. I see my kids, my family, my friends, and so many that I don’t know but somehow we all are just basking in the glow of completeness, oneness, and joyfulness. If my dogs are there, they’re licking me in the face, too.
Recently, I asked my students what they would do if they only had one year to live. The responses were fascinating. Then they turned the question toward me. I had a hard time answering it. After much thought, I decided that I just want to be the one who loves-- unconditionally and unselfishly. I want to love the One who truly loves me and takes care of me. I want this fleeting time on earth to be that glowing fire of love shown to everyone. I want what I do and say to simply radiate the love that can come only from God.
So now the mundane task to getting ready for work, waking the kids for school, and going through the day suddenly becomes an opportunity. Interacting with my students gives me the chance to let them know that Someone loves them greatly. Being with my kids allows me the opportunity to be someone who shows them unconditional love and who shares with them the real, everlasting love of Jesus. Living means looking for Jesus in everything and finding Him in the most unlikely places.
Even when my faith is so small, He is still faithful. He knows my heart and my struggles and loves me anyway. I cannot say that I can be like Abraham and lay my Isaac on the table. I want to hang on to Hunter and Parker and never let go. I want to cling to everyone special to me and not let anything happen to them. Then life happens and I realize I can’t hang on to them. I have to let go and let the One who created them take care of them. Here comes my little faith again.
I don’t understand when life, especially at such a young age, is lost. I don’t know why things like this happen. I understand it is part of life, but it is this part that makes me homesick even more. I long for the day when we are in a place with no tears, no death, no sickness. I long for evilness to disappear and reunions to occur.
If I truly believe God’s word, then I have to cling to the promise that nothing--absolutely nothing--will separate us from His love. “I’m absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master embraced us.“ (Romans 8:38, The Message) I have to keep my focus on His promise of preparing a place for us. “There’s plenty of room in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have said that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get my room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live.“ (John 14:2, The Message) I have to hold to the hope of a home for ones who suffered here on earth, ones who left too soon, and ones who were so close to my heart. I miss them. I long for the day to see them. But I rest in the fact that they are alive in Jesus and I don’t get to spend just a lifetime with them. I get to spend an eternity--forever--with them in a place with no hurts or heartaches, only laughter and sunshine.
I dedicate this article to those who have experienced loss--recently or a long time ago. May the ones who remain draw closer to the One who loves fully and carries us through everything. We’ll be home soon.
Recently, I heard about a two-year-old killed, a lady who lost her husband and child in a car accident, and another young child who had drown in a swimming pool. Some of you may have experienced these losses. You may have been the one whose loved one has gone on to heaven. At this point, I want to say I’m sorry.
My mind explodes with questions of “why” and from those, I only get silence. I feel hollow and small. Life’s pressures suddenly become unimportant. Friends and family seem to glow like fire and I want to hang on to them, hug them, and love them like crazy. All the petty differences seem just that--petty.
Life can sometimes be so incredibly awful. The pain from devastating events, tragic losses, and outright unfairness of this world can be too much. I’ve written about change and how it is to come no matter what. Often, I don’t want change to come. I fight it, ignore it, and curse its name. I hate it. I really do.
When things like this happen, my faith is so tiny. I doubt, question, punch the wall, and fall into a heap. Some people have complimented me on the faith I seem to have. Notice the key word: ‘seem’. To be quite honest, I doubt my faith often. I question God about everything and in my fit of emotion, I don’t take time to listen to His answers.
I can’t understand why something like this happens. I look at the brevity of life, the flash of moments that accentuate time passing by. It’s in these moments that I long for God to come back and take us home.
Since I know His home is the best place to be, I don’t want God to leave anyone behind. I want Him to snatch us all up and whisk us away on a magic carpet.
As I walk through my new home that He has prepared, I’ll see my Paw Paw Evans wave as he pulls some peanuts from his incredible garden. My ears will pick up the sounds from The Kingsmen as my Paw Paw Bridges quietly nods his head my way. I find my former students Elyse, Kate, and Jennifer acting silly somewhere and I‘ll have to join in with their antics and then bear hug them all. I’ll see so many who still linger in my mind and who have shaped who I am.
Then I’ll see Him--the One who knows me like no one else. I don’t know what I’ll do when I am face to face with my Savior, but I envision myself running full force into his open arms. I imagine a lot of laughter that just makes my sides hurt. I see my kids, my family, my friends, and so many that I don’t know but somehow we all are just basking in the glow of completeness, oneness, and joyfulness. If my dogs are there, they’re licking me in the face, too.
Recently, I asked my students what they would do if they only had one year to live. The responses were fascinating. Then they turned the question toward me. I had a hard time answering it. After much thought, I decided that I just want to be the one who loves-- unconditionally and unselfishly. I want to love the One who truly loves me and takes care of me. I want this fleeting time on earth to be that glowing fire of love shown to everyone. I want what I do and say to simply radiate the love that can come only from God.
So now the mundane task to getting ready for work, waking the kids for school, and going through the day suddenly becomes an opportunity. Interacting with my students gives me the chance to let them know that Someone loves them greatly. Being with my kids allows me the opportunity to be someone who shows them unconditional love and who shares with them the real, everlasting love of Jesus. Living means looking for Jesus in everything and finding Him in the most unlikely places.
Even when my faith is so small, He is still faithful. He knows my heart and my struggles and loves me anyway. I cannot say that I can be like Abraham and lay my Isaac on the table. I want to hang on to Hunter and Parker and never let go. I want to cling to everyone special to me and not let anything happen to them. Then life happens and I realize I can’t hang on to them. I have to let go and let the One who created them take care of them. Here comes my little faith again.
I don’t understand when life, especially at such a young age, is lost. I don’t know why things like this happen. I understand it is part of life, but it is this part that makes me homesick even more. I long for the day when we are in a place with no tears, no death, no sickness. I long for evilness to disappear and reunions to occur.
If I truly believe God’s word, then I have to cling to the promise that nothing--absolutely nothing--will separate us from His love. “I’m absolutely convinced that nothing--nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable--absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master embraced us.“ (Romans 8:38, The Message) I have to keep my focus on His promise of preparing a place for us. “There’s plenty of room in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have said that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get my room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live.“ (John 14:2, The Message) I have to hold to the hope of a home for ones who suffered here on earth, ones who left too soon, and ones who were so close to my heart. I miss them. I long for the day to see them. But I rest in the fact that they are alive in Jesus and I don’t get to spend just a lifetime with them. I get to spend an eternity--forever--with them in a place with no hurts or heartaches, only laughter and sunshine.
I dedicate this article to those who have experienced loss--recently or a long time ago. May the ones who remain draw closer to the One who loves fully and carries us through everything. We’ll be home soon.
Hands
I looked at my mother’s hands the other day. I watched how she took crayons and drew scribbles on paper and then took those shapes and made silly faces or happy scenes of ducks or dogs or smiling stars. Parker snickered at her pictures and Hunter chimed in with a “let me do it.” A piece of paper and wax crayons made a moment for my children that they may not remember. But I will remember it. I will remember the innocent play of Fisher Price toys. I will remember the simple comment of “you want to talk about it?” as I banged on the piano after a particularly bad day. I will remember the times she held me as my heart had been broken or when the weight of the world seemed to bear down on me.
My father’s hands may look different, but they show the same incredible love as my mother‘s. They quickly grab up Parker, my two-year-old, as he shouts, “Paw Paw!” Hunter, my six-year-old, often gives my dad a big “high five” after he reads a book with him. I can almost feel the smoothness of my father’s hands when he would hold my hand in church, playing with my fingers, measuring the size of my hand against his. No matter how old I get, his hands make mine seem tiny and weak, yet protected by his strength. They are connected to a tender heart, something I inherited from him, easily moved to laughter and tears.
Since I have been blessed with the role of being a parent, I often reflect on how my parents did what they did. I always knew I wanted to have children; I had no idea how challenging, difficult, yet joyous being a parent is. I sometimes wonder how any parent does what he or she does. After I became a single parent, I met other single parents who have lives that I am not envious of. In fact, these parents are ones who survive seemingly on their own with no help from any relative.
As Mother’s Day and Father’s Day approaches, I look at the hands who helped shape me into who I am today. Of course, sometimes those hands meant a swift pop to remind me who was in charge. I remember the hands who held on the back of my bike, keeping it steady so I could ride without training wheels. I remember the hands that helped me be a bit blonder each year. I remember those hands that stroked my hair when I was crying or hugged my shoulders out of sheer love. I recall the hands cooking meals, washing clothes, and painting bedrooms. I recall the hands that have paid for cars, clothes, and college tuition. Those hands have sewn curtains, dresses, and much-loved stuffed animals. Those hands have given me away, but never went away. Those hands have held me, both in their arms and in sincere prayer.
I know how much I love my children. My hands are used to shape who they are. I have a good idea about how much my parents love my children, too, as shown by their sacrifices for them as well as their general demeanor whenever they are with Hunter and Parker. Even though I love my family greatly, how much more does God love us! I realize I am sinful and selfish. He is blameless and perfect. His love is so much greater and higher than mine.
So I started looking at my Father’s hands. Isaiah 40:12 in The Message Bible says, “Who has scooped up the ocean in His two hands, or measured the sky between his thumb and little finger.” What incredible power God has! His hands are majestic and mighty. They make me feel very protected. They make me feel invincible, since not only is He incredibly strong, He believes in me. He doesn’t just think I’m fun to have around, or someone who can serve His needs. Instead, He wants me to be with Him. He is straining to reach me. He believes I can do all things through Him who will give me strength--the same strength that is able to hold the ocean in His hands.
Not only does His hands show his power, but they also show his incredible love for me. In Isaiah 49:16 in The Message, He says, “I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands.” The Creator of the Universe has MY name written on the back of His hands, in plain view, and on His mind. Incredible!
I love my parents dearly. I cannot express in words what they mean to me. Some of you may have parents who are no longer with you. Some of you may have never had a close relationship with your parents. Whatever your case with your parents, know that there is One who is the “father to the fatherless.” Know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate you from the love of God. No matter what this world brings us, be it death, separation, sickness, and a host of other struggles, God still remains. He lasts. It is such a comfort to know that the One who loves me without condition doesn’t change. He doesn’t grow old or give out or simply become someone else.
God gave me two incredible people as parents. As I was growing up, I would sometimes spend the night with a friend. I was always glad to come home to my parents. My friends would have nice parents, but they weren’t my parents. Sometimes my parents are quirky, weird, and even annoying, but I am those things, too. I am proud and thankful that they are my parents because I wouldn’t be the same without them.
For my parents, I put my hands together and clap in praise of a job well done. For my God, I raise my hands in praise, empty and worthless, but reaching out to the One who loves beyond reason, who continues to shape me with His wonderful hands.
My father’s hands may look different, but they show the same incredible love as my mother‘s. They quickly grab up Parker, my two-year-old, as he shouts, “Paw Paw!” Hunter, my six-year-old, often gives my dad a big “high five” after he reads a book with him. I can almost feel the smoothness of my father’s hands when he would hold my hand in church, playing with my fingers, measuring the size of my hand against his. No matter how old I get, his hands make mine seem tiny and weak, yet protected by his strength. They are connected to a tender heart, something I inherited from him, easily moved to laughter and tears.
Since I have been blessed with the role of being a parent, I often reflect on how my parents did what they did. I always knew I wanted to have children; I had no idea how challenging, difficult, yet joyous being a parent is. I sometimes wonder how any parent does what he or she does. After I became a single parent, I met other single parents who have lives that I am not envious of. In fact, these parents are ones who survive seemingly on their own with no help from any relative.
As Mother’s Day and Father’s Day approaches, I look at the hands who helped shape me into who I am today. Of course, sometimes those hands meant a swift pop to remind me who was in charge. I remember the hands who held on the back of my bike, keeping it steady so I could ride without training wheels. I remember the hands that helped me be a bit blonder each year. I remember those hands that stroked my hair when I was crying or hugged my shoulders out of sheer love. I recall the hands cooking meals, washing clothes, and painting bedrooms. I recall the hands that have paid for cars, clothes, and college tuition. Those hands have sewn curtains, dresses, and much-loved stuffed animals. Those hands have given me away, but never went away. Those hands have held me, both in their arms and in sincere prayer.
I know how much I love my children. My hands are used to shape who they are. I have a good idea about how much my parents love my children, too, as shown by their sacrifices for them as well as their general demeanor whenever they are with Hunter and Parker. Even though I love my family greatly, how much more does God love us! I realize I am sinful and selfish. He is blameless and perfect. His love is so much greater and higher than mine.
So I started looking at my Father’s hands. Isaiah 40:12 in The Message Bible says, “Who has scooped up the ocean in His two hands, or measured the sky between his thumb and little finger.” What incredible power God has! His hands are majestic and mighty. They make me feel very protected. They make me feel invincible, since not only is He incredibly strong, He believes in me. He doesn’t just think I’m fun to have around, or someone who can serve His needs. Instead, He wants me to be with Him. He is straining to reach me. He believes I can do all things through Him who will give me strength--the same strength that is able to hold the ocean in His hands.
Not only does His hands show his power, but they also show his incredible love for me. In Isaiah 49:16 in The Message, He says, “I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands.” The Creator of the Universe has MY name written on the back of His hands, in plain view, and on His mind. Incredible!
I love my parents dearly. I cannot express in words what they mean to me. Some of you may have parents who are no longer with you. Some of you may have never had a close relationship with your parents. Whatever your case with your parents, know that there is One who is the “father to the fatherless.” Know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate you from the love of God. No matter what this world brings us, be it death, separation, sickness, and a host of other struggles, God still remains. He lasts. It is such a comfort to know that the One who loves me without condition doesn’t change. He doesn’t grow old or give out or simply become someone else.
God gave me two incredible people as parents. As I was growing up, I would sometimes spend the night with a friend. I was always glad to come home to my parents. My friends would have nice parents, but they weren’t my parents. Sometimes my parents are quirky, weird, and even annoying, but I am those things, too. I am proud and thankful that they are my parents because I wouldn’t be the same without them.
For my parents, I put my hands together and clap in praise of a job well done. For my God, I raise my hands in praise, empty and worthless, but reaching out to the One who loves beyond reason, who continues to shape me with His wonderful hands.
Stargazing
I walked outside the other night. The boys were with their dad and it was eerily quiet in house. So I went outside to the backyard. I looked up to gaze at the millions of sparkling stars. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a white flash shot across the sky. It was a shooting star. Quick. Beautiful. Spectacular.
I like those last two words: beautiful and spectacular. Of course, I like beautiful things. I like when the sun just hangs on the edge of the earth, barely peeking over the horizon before it sinks, succumbing to the pressure of nightfall. I love the beauty of flowers, butterflies, and hummingbirds. I love the beauty of a perfect pass for a touchdown on a fall afternoon at Bryant-Denny Stadium. I love the grace and elegance of a waltz to that classic love song “Moon River.”
Spectacular is another word I like. The fireworks at Walt Disney World are easily described as spectacular. Getting the laundry done, the lunches packed, and the house cleaned can also be called spectacular. Hunter doing a flip on a trampoline can be called that. (Terrified is a word that describes my reaction to his flip.) Parker pushing a kitchen chair to the cabinets and then climbing that chair to nose through the cabinets is spectacular--but not in a good way.
The dreaded word to describe that shooting star is quick. In a flash it was there. Then it was gone. Quick is usually a good word for many things. Finishing homework quickly is good. Getting to a destination quickly is also positive. However, quick makes me sad. The children grow too fast, my loved ones get a little too gray, and I find another wrinkle only to prove that time doesn’t just march on. It marches across my face in the process. Yet, it does it so quickly.
As a single parent, I find that these three words have impacted the way I view life now.
Beautiful. Wow. To be called beautiful is quite a lofty and inspiring word. It is reserved for Miss America and rare China vases. Sometimes going through struggles can make a person question his or her worth. Beautiful is not a word most people associate with themselves. However, it is exactly what God calls us. We are “the apple of His eye.” That makes me feel like I should wear gingham check and have braids, not be “beautiful.” Psalms 45:11 states, “The king is wild for you,” and He calls us heirs to his throne. In other words, I’m a princess in His book.
Spectacular. I don’t feel spectacular, especially when those pants don’t fit the way they used to. Or my hair has decided it doesn’t want to be curly anymore. And it doesn’t want to be straight either. Spectacular is not something we do. It is something we are--by becoming closer to Him, we become spectacular. He takes the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.
Quick. Another birthday passes. Another Thanksgiving, another Christmas and suddenly, another year is over. I recently went to my high school reunion and it wasn’t what I accomplished that mattered. The “remember when” kicked in. The “so good to see you” was real. What I had done wasn’t important; it was the relationships that mattered.
Struggles of single parenting can be daunting. Remember a few things. You are beautiful. Everyone is a specifically designed creation fashioned by the One who made those dazzling stars. He formed you in a unique manner unlike anyone else for this specific time and place. The world will not have another person exactly like you. Even if you don’t have what the world considers to be the perfect life, you have the one thing that can bring the greatest joy ever--children. God picked you to be the parent to these specific children--enjoy them. Nothing is more beautiful than the sight of my children’s faces as they smile at me. Nothing makes my heart leap like the sound of my boys’ laughter. Nothing can break my heart like the tears in my sons’ eyes. I, who am sinful and selfish, greatly love my children. How much more does God, the One who is perfect, love me and my children!
You can do spectacular things simply by loving others. Listen to others. Look them in the eyes and engage in getting to know them. You will learn a lot about them, the world, and yourself. So often we focus on ourselves, sometimes trying to reach goals or pursue dreams; at others times, we are simply surviving the day. Yet, it is the relationships with others that will make memories, create support systems, and help survive life’s storms. Being single again means learning to trust others after perhaps your trust has been completely shattered. I have no great insight on how to trust again; however, I do know that God will place people in your life as others leave. He promises to go before you and behind you, covering you with protection. Best of all, He will never forsake or abandon you. He will simply love you forever. (Pretty spectacular!)
Finally, slow down. Stop feeling like you are racing against a clock. To quote my favorite 1980s icon Ferris Buelluer, “life moves pretty fast. Sometimes you have to stop and look around a bit.” I will drive through town and remark about a new business being open and then find out it has been there for months. I am surprised when I see former students who are now married, have children, or are teaching at the school where I taught them. They seem to remain seventeen in my mind. The seasons seem to change more quickly and suddenly I wake up and think I want it all to stop. But it doesn’t. So I make it stop. I turn off the TV. I make the time to do silly things like pillow fights or fan tents with my boys. I visit places where I have never been when the boys are not with me. It still goes by quickly, but I wake up, look around, and see time passing by. And I make myself remember it.
As a single parent, take the time to stop all the chaos and just enjoy the moment. Enjoy the moments with your kids, your friends, and by yourself. Take time to do a little stargazing. It can teach you a lot about single parenting.
I like those last two words: beautiful and spectacular. Of course, I like beautiful things. I like when the sun just hangs on the edge of the earth, barely peeking over the horizon before it sinks, succumbing to the pressure of nightfall. I love the beauty of flowers, butterflies, and hummingbirds. I love the beauty of a perfect pass for a touchdown on a fall afternoon at Bryant-Denny Stadium. I love the grace and elegance of a waltz to that classic love song “Moon River.”
Spectacular is another word I like. The fireworks at Walt Disney World are easily described as spectacular. Getting the laundry done, the lunches packed, and the house cleaned can also be called spectacular. Hunter doing a flip on a trampoline can be called that. (Terrified is a word that describes my reaction to his flip.) Parker pushing a kitchen chair to the cabinets and then climbing that chair to nose through the cabinets is spectacular--but not in a good way.
The dreaded word to describe that shooting star is quick. In a flash it was there. Then it was gone. Quick is usually a good word for many things. Finishing homework quickly is good. Getting to a destination quickly is also positive. However, quick makes me sad. The children grow too fast, my loved ones get a little too gray, and I find another wrinkle only to prove that time doesn’t just march on. It marches across my face in the process. Yet, it does it so quickly.
As a single parent, I find that these three words have impacted the way I view life now.
Beautiful. Wow. To be called beautiful is quite a lofty and inspiring word. It is reserved for Miss America and rare China vases. Sometimes going through struggles can make a person question his or her worth. Beautiful is not a word most people associate with themselves. However, it is exactly what God calls us. We are “the apple of His eye.” That makes me feel like I should wear gingham check and have braids, not be “beautiful.” Psalms 45:11 states, “The king is wild for you,” and He calls us heirs to his throne. In other words, I’m a princess in His book.
Spectacular. I don’t feel spectacular, especially when those pants don’t fit the way they used to. Or my hair has decided it doesn’t want to be curly anymore. And it doesn’t want to be straight either. Spectacular is not something we do. It is something we are--by becoming closer to Him, we become spectacular. He takes the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.
Quick. Another birthday passes. Another Thanksgiving, another Christmas and suddenly, another year is over. I recently went to my high school reunion and it wasn’t what I accomplished that mattered. The “remember when” kicked in. The “so good to see you” was real. What I had done wasn’t important; it was the relationships that mattered.
Struggles of single parenting can be daunting. Remember a few things. You are beautiful. Everyone is a specifically designed creation fashioned by the One who made those dazzling stars. He formed you in a unique manner unlike anyone else for this specific time and place. The world will not have another person exactly like you. Even if you don’t have what the world considers to be the perfect life, you have the one thing that can bring the greatest joy ever--children. God picked you to be the parent to these specific children--enjoy them. Nothing is more beautiful than the sight of my children’s faces as they smile at me. Nothing makes my heart leap like the sound of my boys’ laughter. Nothing can break my heart like the tears in my sons’ eyes. I, who am sinful and selfish, greatly love my children. How much more does God, the One who is perfect, love me and my children!
You can do spectacular things simply by loving others. Listen to others. Look them in the eyes and engage in getting to know them. You will learn a lot about them, the world, and yourself. So often we focus on ourselves, sometimes trying to reach goals or pursue dreams; at others times, we are simply surviving the day. Yet, it is the relationships with others that will make memories, create support systems, and help survive life’s storms. Being single again means learning to trust others after perhaps your trust has been completely shattered. I have no great insight on how to trust again; however, I do know that God will place people in your life as others leave. He promises to go before you and behind you, covering you with protection. Best of all, He will never forsake or abandon you. He will simply love you forever. (Pretty spectacular!)
Finally, slow down. Stop feeling like you are racing against a clock. To quote my favorite 1980s icon Ferris Buelluer, “life moves pretty fast. Sometimes you have to stop and look around a bit.” I will drive through town and remark about a new business being open and then find out it has been there for months. I am surprised when I see former students who are now married, have children, or are teaching at the school where I taught them. They seem to remain seventeen in my mind. The seasons seem to change more quickly and suddenly I wake up and think I want it all to stop. But it doesn’t. So I make it stop. I turn off the TV. I make the time to do silly things like pillow fights or fan tents with my boys. I visit places where I have never been when the boys are not with me. It still goes by quickly, but I wake up, look around, and see time passing by. And I make myself remember it.
As a single parent, take the time to stop all the chaos and just enjoy the moment. Enjoy the moments with your kids, your friends, and by yourself. Take time to do a little stargazing. It can teach you a lot about single parenting.
Crossing Monkey Bars
“I‘m right here,” I told my son Hunter as he attempted to cross the monkey bars. “You can do this.”
Hunter and I, along with his little brother Parker, were having an typical adventure at the playground when Hunter climbed the ladder that led to the monkey bars.
“Hey, Mom, can you help me?” Hunter called.
I looked at him and gauged the distance between the bars and the ground. They seemed to be way too high for a five year old. But I could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted to accomplish this feat. So I agreed.
Suddenly, I realized that he was afraid. He held back. He made whimpering noises. He wanted my arms to almost carry him as he moved from the bar to bar. Fear had gripped him. I knew the dream of crossing the monkey bars was becoming a nightmare.
Fear. It can paralyze a person. It can also cause one to run in the opposite direction. Fear is one aspect that I battle as a single parent. What if something happens to my kids? What if I do a terrible job raising my kids? What if something happens to my support system of my family and friends? What if? I could write a million of them.
This column is dedicated to those single parents who battle all kinds of emotions including fear. Emotions such as loneliness, anxiety, stress, isolation and many others seem to come out of no where. Parenting is challenging enough, but add the aspect of “single” on it, and it can seem quite overwhelming.
I am not an expert in the subject of single parenting. It has been a trial by fire, lessons learned through experience. Many things I’ve learned have come from my single parent friends and from various literature that I’ve read. A few key concepts that have made a huge difference in my life are as follows:
1. You can’t do it alone. Support systems from family and friends are crucial. My church has meant so much to me. God has brought people into my life that are important to me and my children.
2. Take it day to day. Do what you must for the day. Live for the day as much as possible, with day to day organization. Otherwise, don’t worry about tomorrow. Just like Hunter was crossing the monkey bars one bar at a time, so must you take each day one at a time.
3. Take some time for yourself. Put the kids to bed early, get together with other parents, or hire a babysitter. Do whatever it takes. Find time to do something for yourself.
4. Dare to dream. Reflect on what you love to do and begin doing it. Don’t plan how you will use it or where it will take you. God will do that. Just do it and see what happens.
I was reminded of my struggle with fear as I helped Hunter cross those monkey bars. Suddenly, fear overtook him and he let go. I caught him. He knew that I would be there. I couldn’t help but think of our Heavenly Father who catches us, too. When everything becomes too much, He is there to catch us, just when we’re about to drop.
Hunter didn’t want to try again. He wanted to quit. Sometimes I feel the same way. I want to give up, run and hide, or simply stop. Then I look at the faces of my sweet boys and know that I can’t quit. Most of all, I know I won’t quit. The challenges of parenting may be great, but every day there is a pay off. God gives me a treat, something specifically designed for me. He knows a simple “I love you” from Hunter and a hug and a kiss from Parker often softens the struggles of the day. Those little things give me that extra lift I need. Sometimes He encourages me through my friends, my students, or even through strangers. Best of all, He knows exactly what to say and when I need to hear it.
Hunter eyed the monkey bars. I could tell that fear was preventing him from attempting to cross the bars. So I made him do it. In my typical drill sergeant fashion, I barked orders to stop whimpering, grab tightly to the bars and use every inch of muscle he had to cross them. With his jaw set and his eyes focused, Hunter accomplished his goal. His face beamed as he made it to the other side. I gave him a big high five and told him how proud I was of him. I told him how I knew he could do it. Of course, I was right there under him, protecting him the whole way.
He made it. He did it. Sometimes it seems like it is too much. Sometimes it is more than a person can handle. But all the time, our Heavenly Father is there to catch us. He knows the path we will take and has great blessings along the road. We may whimper or even sob profusely, but he is right there with us, with open arms to catch us. Single parenting is not easy. Fear may abound. I’ve decided to ignore that fear. Instead, I’m focusing my attention on the One who will catch me because He is with me along the way. I’ve decided to move in boldness, moving one bar at a time.
Hunter and I, along with his little brother Parker, were having an typical adventure at the playground when Hunter climbed the ladder that led to the monkey bars.
“Hey, Mom, can you help me?” Hunter called.
I looked at him and gauged the distance between the bars and the ground. They seemed to be way too high for a five year old. But I could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted to accomplish this feat. So I agreed.
Suddenly, I realized that he was afraid. He held back. He made whimpering noises. He wanted my arms to almost carry him as he moved from the bar to bar. Fear had gripped him. I knew the dream of crossing the monkey bars was becoming a nightmare.
Fear. It can paralyze a person. It can also cause one to run in the opposite direction. Fear is one aspect that I battle as a single parent. What if something happens to my kids? What if I do a terrible job raising my kids? What if something happens to my support system of my family and friends? What if? I could write a million of them.
This column is dedicated to those single parents who battle all kinds of emotions including fear. Emotions such as loneliness, anxiety, stress, isolation and many others seem to come out of no where. Parenting is challenging enough, but add the aspect of “single” on it, and it can seem quite overwhelming.
I am not an expert in the subject of single parenting. It has been a trial by fire, lessons learned through experience. Many things I’ve learned have come from my single parent friends and from various literature that I’ve read. A few key concepts that have made a huge difference in my life are as follows:
1. You can’t do it alone. Support systems from family and friends are crucial. My church has meant so much to me. God has brought people into my life that are important to me and my children.
2. Take it day to day. Do what you must for the day. Live for the day as much as possible, with day to day organization. Otherwise, don’t worry about tomorrow. Just like Hunter was crossing the monkey bars one bar at a time, so must you take each day one at a time.
3. Take some time for yourself. Put the kids to bed early, get together with other parents, or hire a babysitter. Do whatever it takes. Find time to do something for yourself.
4. Dare to dream. Reflect on what you love to do and begin doing it. Don’t plan how you will use it or where it will take you. God will do that. Just do it and see what happens.
I was reminded of my struggle with fear as I helped Hunter cross those monkey bars. Suddenly, fear overtook him and he let go. I caught him. He knew that I would be there. I couldn’t help but think of our Heavenly Father who catches us, too. When everything becomes too much, He is there to catch us, just when we’re about to drop.
Hunter didn’t want to try again. He wanted to quit. Sometimes I feel the same way. I want to give up, run and hide, or simply stop. Then I look at the faces of my sweet boys and know that I can’t quit. Most of all, I know I won’t quit. The challenges of parenting may be great, but every day there is a pay off. God gives me a treat, something specifically designed for me. He knows a simple “I love you” from Hunter and a hug and a kiss from Parker often softens the struggles of the day. Those little things give me that extra lift I need. Sometimes He encourages me through my friends, my students, or even through strangers. Best of all, He knows exactly what to say and when I need to hear it.
Hunter eyed the monkey bars. I could tell that fear was preventing him from attempting to cross the bars. So I made him do it. In my typical drill sergeant fashion, I barked orders to stop whimpering, grab tightly to the bars and use every inch of muscle he had to cross them. With his jaw set and his eyes focused, Hunter accomplished his goal. His face beamed as he made it to the other side. I gave him a big high five and told him how proud I was of him. I told him how I knew he could do it. Of course, I was right there under him, protecting him the whole way.
He made it. He did it. Sometimes it seems like it is too much. Sometimes it is more than a person can handle. But all the time, our Heavenly Father is there to catch us. He knows the path we will take and has great blessings along the road. We may whimper or even sob profusely, but he is right there with us, with open arms to catch us. Single parenting is not easy. Fear may abound. I’ve decided to ignore that fear. Instead, I’m focusing my attention on the One who will catch me because He is with me along the way. I’ve decided to move in boldness, moving one bar at a time.
Dancing with the REAL Star
I love to dance. Let me rephrase that so that it is understood: I completely, totally, wholeheartedly, LOVE to dance. What does dancing have to do with single parenting? At first, I thought absolutely nothing. However, I have found that I have learned not only about dancing through my classes, but also about being a parent, being single again, and being a follower of Jesus Christ.
Most of my experience with dance has been in productions, parties, and fashion shows. As a theater major, I learned to polka in musical theater. As a child of the 80s, I learned to moon walk thanks to Michael Jackson videos. Now I bounce around free styling to Wheels on the Bus with two boys, one doing the robot and the other stripping down to his birthday suit for a fun run through the house. Although all of these experiences emphasized dancing, I knew I wanted to know exact dance form. That is why I started taking ballroom dance lessons.
I stood among many nervous women of all ages, many of whom appeared older than me. They also seemed to know what they were doing or at least they knew who they were going to dance with. I, without a partner, stood facing a group of men who appeared to be looking at their dance partner or avoiding eye contact with me. I have to admit, I avoided eye contact with some of them, too.
Through the weeks to follow, I danced with several different partners, all of whom taught me various steps and techniques. My theater friend Abby gave me her dance shoes. I slowly became more confident and couldn’t wait for dance class each week As time has passed and I continue to learn more about the specific dances, I have found that dance has taught me more than just the art form itself.
Dance has taught me about parenting in general. Sure, there are general guidelines, but there are no strict rules. Each dancer must develop his or her own style. Parenting is the same way. Children do well when they are on a simple schedule; however, that schedule must be determined by the individual parent. What works for me as a parent may not work for my sister or my best friend, both of whom are parents.
Dance is a conversation. One person moves one way and the other person responds. No one, especially the follower, assumes what the other one will do. As a single parent, I know that I must take the time to listen to the concerns of my children. I must not just hear what they say, but I must turn my full attention to the conversation so I can understand the feeling behind the words. If I assume what he is saying, then I am not truly listening. Just like conversation, the dance becomes stilted and agitated if I do not follow my partner‘s lead. In essence, the dance doesn’t flow. The conversation doesn’t take place. No relationship is built.
Dance demands balance. Each step must be complete before one takes another. Life as a single parent requires balance. The day-to-day life of a single parent can be a delicate balancing act of schedules. No one can get sick, especially the primary caregivers. I also find that, as a single person, I must have balance in my life. Being single again often opens the doors for others to have “someone for you to meet.” Sometimes, being divorced harbors a stigma of having something wrong with you, like walking around with three arms or growing a tail. I have found that balance is only found in finding out who you are again. Balance takes time and practice. As a single person, I know that finding out who I am will involve pursuing those things that interest me, not pursuing another person. One cannot have a balanced relationship if another person is in the midst of healing. Therefore, be careful of creating balance in your life through another person.
Finally, dance frame is incredibly important. I must apply the right amount of pressure to my dance partner so he can be able to guide and direct me. My partner must be confident in his frame so I am able to know what he wants me to do. Most of all, we both must have strong frames that ultimately attach to an invisible line that seems to be moving the dancers. That invisible line for me is Jesus Christ.
As a believer, I know that all of my relationships, especially with my children, suffer if I am not continually seeking the One who guides my steps. As a single parent, I so often want to be the one in charge, figuring out exactly what is happening in my life. I try to make long range plans for my life and my children’s lives when I am not the one leading the dance. I must follow because it is only through the subtle nuances from Him that I know what steps I must take. My dance teacher says that the way to a woman’s heart is through dance. If that is true, then I want my heart to stay aligned with the One who loves me unconditionally.
As the Valentine’s Day approaches, I hope you take the time to do something you love. You may hate to dance. You may prefer to take pictures, go fishing, or spend some time in a museum. You may like cooking or drawing. Whatever you desire, do it. You were designed that way for a reason and just as God uses dancing to speak to me, He will speak to you in that activity that you love. As for me, you’ll find me on the dance floor, following the lead of the One who can make my life the most incredible dance ever.
Most of my experience with dance has been in productions, parties, and fashion shows. As a theater major, I learned to polka in musical theater. As a child of the 80s, I learned to moon walk thanks to Michael Jackson videos. Now I bounce around free styling to Wheels on the Bus with two boys, one doing the robot and the other stripping down to his birthday suit for a fun run through the house. Although all of these experiences emphasized dancing, I knew I wanted to know exact dance form. That is why I started taking ballroom dance lessons.
I stood among many nervous women of all ages, many of whom appeared older than me. They also seemed to know what they were doing or at least they knew who they were going to dance with. I, without a partner, stood facing a group of men who appeared to be looking at their dance partner or avoiding eye contact with me. I have to admit, I avoided eye contact with some of them, too.
Through the weeks to follow, I danced with several different partners, all of whom taught me various steps and techniques. My theater friend Abby gave me her dance shoes. I slowly became more confident and couldn’t wait for dance class each week As time has passed and I continue to learn more about the specific dances, I have found that dance has taught me more than just the art form itself.
Dance has taught me about parenting in general. Sure, there are general guidelines, but there are no strict rules. Each dancer must develop his or her own style. Parenting is the same way. Children do well when they are on a simple schedule; however, that schedule must be determined by the individual parent. What works for me as a parent may not work for my sister or my best friend, both of whom are parents.
Dance is a conversation. One person moves one way and the other person responds. No one, especially the follower, assumes what the other one will do. As a single parent, I know that I must take the time to listen to the concerns of my children. I must not just hear what they say, but I must turn my full attention to the conversation so I can understand the feeling behind the words. If I assume what he is saying, then I am not truly listening. Just like conversation, the dance becomes stilted and agitated if I do not follow my partner‘s lead. In essence, the dance doesn’t flow. The conversation doesn’t take place. No relationship is built.
Dance demands balance. Each step must be complete before one takes another. Life as a single parent requires balance. The day-to-day life of a single parent can be a delicate balancing act of schedules. No one can get sick, especially the primary caregivers. I also find that, as a single person, I must have balance in my life. Being single again often opens the doors for others to have “someone for you to meet.” Sometimes, being divorced harbors a stigma of having something wrong with you, like walking around with three arms or growing a tail. I have found that balance is only found in finding out who you are again. Balance takes time and practice. As a single person, I know that finding out who I am will involve pursuing those things that interest me, not pursuing another person. One cannot have a balanced relationship if another person is in the midst of healing. Therefore, be careful of creating balance in your life through another person.
Finally, dance frame is incredibly important. I must apply the right amount of pressure to my dance partner so he can be able to guide and direct me. My partner must be confident in his frame so I am able to know what he wants me to do. Most of all, we both must have strong frames that ultimately attach to an invisible line that seems to be moving the dancers. That invisible line for me is Jesus Christ.
As a believer, I know that all of my relationships, especially with my children, suffer if I am not continually seeking the One who guides my steps. As a single parent, I so often want to be the one in charge, figuring out exactly what is happening in my life. I try to make long range plans for my life and my children’s lives when I am not the one leading the dance. I must follow because it is only through the subtle nuances from Him that I know what steps I must take. My dance teacher says that the way to a woman’s heart is through dance. If that is true, then I want my heart to stay aligned with the One who loves me unconditionally.
As the Valentine’s Day approaches, I hope you take the time to do something you love. You may hate to dance. You may prefer to take pictures, go fishing, or spend some time in a museum. You may like cooking or drawing. Whatever you desire, do it. You were designed that way for a reason and just as God uses dancing to speak to me, He will speak to you in that activity that you love. As for me, you’ll find me on the dance floor, following the lead of the One who can make my life the most incredible dance ever.
To Mom and Dad
I walked through the aisles of various Christian bookstores and numerous clothing stores. I searched through too many places that sold hundreds of knickknacks and doodads. I saw many pretty, interesting, completely useless items. I saw so much stuff that my head began to swim.
Every year I face this dilemma and every year it gets more difficult. Finding a gift for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day is impossible. I have no idea what to get either parent to show my love and appreciate for them. If I ask them, I get the same response, “Oh, I don’t need anything.” or “Your dad needs some socks” or “Get your mom a gift certificate.” A gift certificate? Socks? Nothing at all? How could I get them “nothing” when they have been “everything” to me?
My mom has taught me the fine art of bargain shopping. If something costs more than ten dollars, one must ponder exactly why a person is buying it. Don’t get me wrong. She’s not cheap. In fact, she is extremely generous. She is quick to give her own money to help someone else. She can find anything a person needs, even a job. She can make something from absolutely nothing. She is clever, thrifty, and compassionate.
My father has instilled me a passion for laughter. Every day there is something new to learn, but it is always done in laughter. He tends to take things slowly and observes the smallest of details, especially when it involves the outdoors. Plants that may be on their last leg suddenly thrive in the presence of my father. His garden looks like something out of Southern Living. Yet he is humble in showing what he has accomplished.
I remember growing up and spending the night with friends. Their parents were nice, but I was always glad to get home to my own set of parents. Sometimes my parents’ habits would drive me and my sister crazy, but now I find that I am doing so many of the same things that they did. I hear myself say something to my sons and then I stop and really listen. Then I recognize that voice--it is the voice of my mom and my dad.
As a single parent, I know that I am often both the mom and dad in a situation. Therefore, I often reflect on what my parents would do in a situation. It is then that I am most thankful that God gave me the parents that He did.
So for the specific holidays, I have decided to give my parents what they gave me: memories.
For my mom, I give her the memory of a special birthday cake in which she let this just-turned five-year-old design a cake, complete with a big tree with red hots for apples, an old swing, and a field of daffodils. I give her a face in the crowd, smiling, beaming with delight, for every entertaining and sometimes boring recital or performance. I give her those just-long-enough talks in my bedroom, making decisions about my life. She always listened, but mostly she always prayed. I knew whatever I spoke to her about, she would find a secret place to pray for me. I know she still does this today.
For my dad, I give him the memory of singing “I’ll Fly Away” when I was roughly five-years-old (Five was a big year.) He always sang with me, even much later when I was taking voice lessons and singing in the church choir. We’d sing to an out of tune piano and make some kind of music. I give him wild baby rabbits caught for me and my sister to play with, a swimming pool that delighted us girls, and a garden full of peas to shell. I also give him that special place in my heart that causes us both to tear up over certain events. I have resorted to giving him a “thumbs up” to keep us both in line and not falling out into a massive heap of tears.
I love my parents dearly. I love my children completely. However, as much as I love these wonderful people that God has put in my life, I can never touch the incredible amount of love that God has for us. (verse)
God has given us the memories as well as allowing us to make more memories every day. However, things change. People grow up. Life is in constant motion. Yet, God still remains. He lasts. It is such a comfort to know that the One who loves me without condition doesn’t change. He doesn’t grow old or give out or simply become someone else. He is a good, but not tame, God.
So I praise Him even more for the parents He has given me. May I be as good a parent has they have been. I love you, Mom and Dad!
Every year I face this dilemma and every year it gets more difficult. Finding a gift for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day is impossible. I have no idea what to get either parent to show my love and appreciate for them. If I ask them, I get the same response, “Oh, I don’t need anything.” or “Your dad needs some socks” or “Get your mom a gift certificate.” A gift certificate? Socks? Nothing at all? How could I get them “nothing” when they have been “everything” to me?
My mom has taught me the fine art of bargain shopping. If something costs more than ten dollars, one must ponder exactly why a person is buying it. Don’t get me wrong. She’s not cheap. In fact, she is extremely generous. She is quick to give her own money to help someone else. She can find anything a person needs, even a job. She can make something from absolutely nothing. She is clever, thrifty, and compassionate.
My father has instilled me a passion for laughter. Every day there is something new to learn, but it is always done in laughter. He tends to take things slowly and observes the smallest of details, especially when it involves the outdoors. Plants that may be on their last leg suddenly thrive in the presence of my father. His garden looks like something out of Southern Living. Yet he is humble in showing what he has accomplished.
I remember growing up and spending the night with friends. Their parents were nice, but I was always glad to get home to my own set of parents. Sometimes my parents’ habits would drive me and my sister crazy, but now I find that I am doing so many of the same things that they did. I hear myself say something to my sons and then I stop and really listen. Then I recognize that voice--it is the voice of my mom and my dad.
As a single parent, I know that I am often both the mom and dad in a situation. Therefore, I often reflect on what my parents would do in a situation. It is then that I am most thankful that God gave me the parents that He did.
So for the specific holidays, I have decided to give my parents what they gave me: memories.
For my mom, I give her the memory of a special birthday cake in which she let this just-turned five-year-old design a cake, complete with a big tree with red hots for apples, an old swing, and a field of daffodils. I give her a face in the crowd, smiling, beaming with delight, for every entertaining and sometimes boring recital or performance. I give her those just-long-enough talks in my bedroom, making decisions about my life. She always listened, but mostly she always prayed. I knew whatever I spoke to her about, she would find a secret place to pray for me. I know she still does this today.
For my dad, I give him the memory of singing “I’ll Fly Away” when I was roughly five-years-old (Five was a big year.) He always sang with me, even much later when I was taking voice lessons and singing in the church choir. We’d sing to an out of tune piano and make some kind of music. I give him wild baby rabbits caught for me and my sister to play with, a swimming pool that delighted us girls, and a garden full of peas to shell. I also give him that special place in my heart that causes us both to tear up over certain events. I have resorted to giving him a “thumbs up” to keep us both in line and not falling out into a massive heap of tears.
I love my parents dearly. I love my children completely. However, as much as I love these wonderful people that God has put in my life, I can never touch the incredible amount of love that God has for us. (verse)
God has given us the memories as well as allowing us to make more memories every day. However, things change. People grow up. Life is in constant motion. Yet, God still remains. He lasts. It is such a comfort to know that the One who loves me without condition doesn’t change. He doesn’t grow old or give out or simply become someone else. He is a good, but not tame, God.
So I praise Him even more for the parents He has given me. May I be as good a parent has they have been. I love you, Mom and Dad!
Quote of the Day
“My life is my message.” “Never test the depth of the water with both feet.” “Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.” These quotes were part of my “Quote of the Day” activity in my creative writing class. I never knew how much they would impact my experiences as a single parent.
Quotes from wise people can cause one to ponder life. They can give great perspective, too. However, quotes can often remind me of just how much I lack wisdom. Sometimes, as a single parent, I feel like I’m taking two steps forward and three steps back. I let my past experiences hinder my ability to trust others. I sometimes feel like I’ve lost control of my life. I feel like finding a small hole, crawling inside of it and hiding there for who knows how long. I try to have this image of being so incredibly in control, so trusting in Jesus, when in actuality, I am a broken creature with knocking knees and tearful eyes.
I watch with wonder how my children go fearlessly into life. Everyone is a friend. Every day is an adventure. Play dough becomes colorful snakes, soap bubbles are magical globes, and a mirror holds silly, funny faces. As I attempt to write this column, my two-year-old finds that nothing is more comical than pushing the keys on my computer keyboard. Suddenly, his brother streaks by in nothing but his birthday suit, wiggling and giggling to a Toby Mac song. Now, he and his brother think it is oh-so-thrilling to run naked through the house prior to bath time. It is a nightly ritual. They are comfortable in being silly, strange, and naked--all at the same time.
Life for me is blanketed with watchful steps. As I travel though this journey, neon warning signs seem to flash, making me fearful of those with questionable reputations and suspicious motives. If someone is nice to me, I cannot help but wonder what exactly he or she wants. Being on your own is tough enough. Having two innocent lives that you are responsible for makes this trek even more frightening. Having your world rocked is difficult. Traveling through life with two innocent hearts is terrifying.
This incredible wall I have formed over time makes me barely test the waters of relationships. It makes me think of hiding behind books and daydreams, never venturing out beyond the four walls of my home, classroom, or even the invisible ones that keep everyone at a safe distance. Even friendships are somewhat guarded, as I know that getting to know somebody means one has to care about that person. Perhaps I don’t want to care too much, for caring means I give a piece of my heart away. I’m very careful in giving that away now.
I come home in the afternoon to a curly headed, blue eyed angel scurrying around the corner, arms open wide--just beaming. Another shouts a big “Momma!” and hurries in to greet me. Another day has passed and though this world has presented some unnecessary and incredible demands, we made it.
But did we really make it? If treading the line of being safe kept me from reaching out to someone, then did I journey through this day making a difference or did I simply avoid getting hurt, navigating through the day without being touched? Although I want to guard my children from harm, I also know that they will touch the lives of others through their loving kindness. They are not afraid to be who they are. Perhaps if I had removed the walls I have around me long enough to get to know someone and actually care about a person, maybe I would have done more than simply survived the day. Maybe, if I can grow beyond my fears, then I can show love and acceptance to those who have never experienced unconditional love. Maybe I can show what it is like to be loved for who you are, not what you have done or what you can do for someone. Maybe I can just accept people for who they are and make them realize that they are important simply because they are here.
The Bible has many verses--365 to be exact--on fear. I guess God knew I would need one for every day of the year. Fear can roar like a lion, making me freeze in my tracks. However, now I know that it is a toothless lion, one that cannot harm me, but just keep me from moving on out of the valley and onto the mountain.
Though I move timidly and shakily, I still choose to move. Every day I hope to look back to yesterday and say yes, I have changed. I have grown. I am no longer who I used to be. Instead, I hope to see someone who is changing into the person God had in mind, not the one that I thought I should be. Being fearful is not part of the image.
When I think about these quotes, I think how I want them to be part of who I am. My life should be my message and that message should have the love and acceptance of Jesus Christ written all over it. I will test waters that are uncertain and unknown, though I will be cautious in a smart way, but not a fearful way. I will try new things, meet different people, and do things I’ve always wanted to do and I won’t let fear prevent me from attempting them. Finally, I’m in the game. I’m not checking out, sitting it out, or watching everyone else participate. I’m in a game called Life and I want to make every play count. I want to get up to bat and start swinging…maybe just keep swinging…because that hit may touch a life that was untouchable until now. I want to make every swing count for something beyond this world, and reach those who are may think it’s time to sit it out or run and hide.
I do not claim to be a wise person, but I seek the One who is. I do not have great answers on how to be a wonderful parent. I don’t even speak so eloquently that I can close this column with some incredible quote. I do know that if the reader ever questions his or her worth, if the reader ever feels the world crumbling around him or her, or if the reader is gripped by fear and is unable to shake its grasp, then I can wholeheartedly say choose to give up, surrender, and lose all control of your life. Give it to the One who loves you and accepts you unconditionally. Seek His wisdom and follow it wholeheartedly. Trust His heart, for in it is a love for you greater than any other.
Quotes from wise people can cause one to ponder life. They can give great perspective, too. However, quotes can often remind me of just how much I lack wisdom. Sometimes, as a single parent, I feel like I’m taking two steps forward and three steps back. I let my past experiences hinder my ability to trust others. I sometimes feel like I’ve lost control of my life. I feel like finding a small hole, crawling inside of it and hiding there for who knows how long. I try to have this image of being so incredibly in control, so trusting in Jesus, when in actuality, I am a broken creature with knocking knees and tearful eyes.
I watch with wonder how my children go fearlessly into life. Everyone is a friend. Every day is an adventure. Play dough becomes colorful snakes, soap bubbles are magical globes, and a mirror holds silly, funny faces. As I attempt to write this column, my two-year-old finds that nothing is more comical than pushing the keys on my computer keyboard. Suddenly, his brother streaks by in nothing but his birthday suit, wiggling and giggling to a Toby Mac song. Now, he and his brother think it is oh-so-thrilling to run naked through the house prior to bath time. It is a nightly ritual. They are comfortable in being silly, strange, and naked--all at the same time.
Life for me is blanketed with watchful steps. As I travel though this journey, neon warning signs seem to flash, making me fearful of those with questionable reputations and suspicious motives. If someone is nice to me, I cannot help but wonder what exactly he or she wants. Being on your own is tough enough. Having two innocent lives that you are responsible for makes this trek even more frightening. Having your world rocked is difficult. Traveling through life with two innocent hearts is terrifying.
This incredible wall I have formed over time makes me barely test the waters of relationships. It makes me think of hiding behind books and daydreams, never venturing out beyond the four walls of my home, classroom, or even the invisible ones that keep everyone at a safe distance. Even friendships are somewhat guarded, as I know that getting to know somebody means one has to care about that person. Perhaps I don’t want to care too much, for caring means I give a piece of my heart away. I’m very careful in giving that away now.
I come home in the afternoon to a curly headed, blue eyed angel scurrying around the corner, arms open wide--just beaming. Another shouts a big “Momma!” and hurries in to greet me. Another day has passed and though this world has presented some unnecessary and incredible demands, we made it.
But did we really make it? If treading the line of being safe kept me from reaching out to someone, then did I journey through this day making a difference or did I simply avoid getting hurt, navigating through the day without being touched? Although I want to guard my children from harm, I also know that they will touch the lives of others through their loving kindness. They are not afraid to be who they are. Perhaps if I had removed the walls I have around me long enough to get to know someone and actually care about a person, maybe I would have done more than simply survived the day. Maybe, if I can grow beyond my fears, then I can show love and acceptance to those who have never experienced unconditional love. Maybe I can show what it is like to be loved for who you are, not what you have done or what you can do for someone. Maybe I can just accept people for who they are and make them realize that they are important simply because they are here.
The Bible has many verses--365 to be exact--on fear. I guess God knew I would need one for every day of the year. Fear can roar like a lion, making me freeze in my tracks. However, now I know that it is a toothless lion, one that cannot harm me, but just keep me from moving on out of the valley and onto the mountain.
Though I move timidly and shakily, I still choose to move. Every day I hope to look back to yesterday and say yes, I have changed. I have grown. I am no longer who I used to be. Instead, I hope to see someone who is changing into the person God had in mind, not the one that I thought I should be. Being fearful is not part of the image.
When I think about these quotes, I think how I want them to be part of who I am. My life should be my message and that message should have the love and acceptance of Jesus Christ written all over it. I will test waters that are uncertain and unknown, though I will be cautious in a smart way, but not a fearful way. I will try new things, meet different people, and do things I’ve always wanted to do and I won’t let fear prevent me from attempting them. Finally, I’m in the game. I’m not checking out, sitting it out, or watching everyone else participate. I’m in a game called Life and I want to make every play count. I want to get up to bat and start swinging…maybe just keep swinging…because that hit may touch a life that was untouchable until now. I want to make every swing count for something beyond this world, and reach those who are may think it’s time to sit it out or run and hide.
I do not claim to be a wise person, but I seek the One who is. I do not have great answers on how to be a wonderful parent. I don’t even speak so eloquently that I can close this column with some incredible quote. I do know that if the reader ever questions his or her worth, if the reader ever feels the world crumbling around him or her, or if the reader is gripped by fear and is unable to shake its grasp, then I can wholeheartedly say choose to give up, surrender, and lose all control of your life. Give it to the One who loves you and accepts you unconditionally. Seek His wisdom and follow it wholeheartedly. Trust His heart, for in it is a love for you greater than any other.
Adventures in Ant Farms
“Is it here yet?” Hunter asked for what seemed like the millionth time in one hour.
“No, not yet.” I sighed.
Somehow this youngster who forgets to get his lunchbox or to put away his shoes can remember to ask about a special package to arrive through the mail. Finally, the special day came as I found a light brown envelope in the mailbox. Now the task lay ahead of me. What if I fail? What if it doesn’t work? What if they are all dead? Yes, harvester ants had arrived via the mighty postal worker and now the task of putting an ant farm together lay ahead of me.
An ant farm. Insects. Bugs. Things not welcome at a picnic nor at my dinner table. Hunter had received his “Red Ryder” gift thanks to his aunt Tina. That exciting present was an ant farm.
I never imagined my life to be like this. Little Miss Pee Wee cheerleader, drama queen, music video junkie, and insect/rodent/reptile avoider---that was me. “Adventure” for me was trying a new ice cream flavor or sitting somewhere different at my favorite restaurant. It was not sitting on the back of an alligator at an alligator rescue park, rescuing crabs at the beach, or camping out, complete with a fire, some s’mores, and a few hot dogs--even if the camp out was in the backyard. Growing up, I didn’t have brothers so “Wrestle Mania” and “Attack Mom” have become new games for me to learn.
In these past few years, I have done things that I would never imagined. I have met some special people who have been an encouragement. I’ve seen things that made me laugh, cry, and rejoice that God is a merciful, loving God. Most of all, I have found that God is true to His promises. “You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus.” (Philippians 4:20, The Message)
Sometimes I think I have to be the weirdest person ever because of my perspective on life. I fear that I’ve gotten it all wrong and that I’ll miss out on what’s important in life. When that fear hits, I know that I’m not looking at the right Source. I’m looking around to others and I’m not truly listening to Him. When I let fear stop me from taking chances or setting goals, then I know that I’m focusing on my abilities, not on Him. Through these past three years, I know that I didn’t make it on my own. I’ve been carried, lead, and loved by the One who has the whole picture in mind.
Sometimes I forget the wonderful promises God has made. When I am reminded, a peace floods and soothes the fears and doubts. Jeremiah 29:11-13 states, “I’ll take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out--plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me, and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you’re not disappointed.” (The Message) I’m so glad that God is true to His promises as this verse gives me hope that the adventure I’m on is one that is good, that it does have a future, and of course, it holds hope for more adventures grander than I could imagine.
“They’re here,” I told Hunter. He danced and sang. His brother Parker did the same. I put the ants in the refrigerator because the instructions said it would “calm them down.” After about 10 minutes, I took them out and carefully opened the tube they were snoozing in. I poured them into the farm when suddenly a few began to wake up and started crawling out of the tube on their own. Terror gripped me. I screamed, dropping the tube on the table. Ants began crawling everywhere. Hunter ran away, shrieking and crying. Parker followed suit as he is at the stage of “monkey see, monkey do.” Suddenly, I realized that crawling on my table were my son’s passion. These insects were what my son longed to study and watch. At any other time, I would have grabbed the can of Raid and given them a nuclear fallout. Instead, I grabbed a long green stick for them to climb on and to be placed in the farm.
I wasn’t going to let them get away. I saved those ants, one by one, and in a few minutes, after the tears and screaming had subsided, two wide-eyed little boys came creeping back into the kitchen.
“Is it safe?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, you can come see them now.”
Hunter and Parker were mesmerized by the farm. I didn’t orchestrate that adventure, but I’m glad I was a part of it. I don’t know what other adventures are ahead as I journey into the world of boys---crazy, funny, silly, one-of-a-kind boys. But I’m glad I can take God at His word that it will be good
“No, not yet.” I sighed.
Somehow this youngster who forgets to get his lunchbox or to put away his shoes can remember to ask about a special package to arrive through the mail. Finally, the special day came as I found a light brown envelope in the mailbox. Now the task lay ahead of me. What if I fail? What if it doesn’t work? What if they are all dead? Yes, harvester ants had arrived via the mighty postal worker and now the task of putting an ant farm together lay ahead of me.
An ant farm. Insects. Bugs. Things not welcome at a picnic nor at my dinner table. Hunter had received his “Red Ryder” gift thanks to his aunt Tina. That exciting present was an ant farm.
I never imagined my life to be like this. Little Miss Pee Wee cheerleader, drama queen, music video junkie, and insect/rodent/reptile avoider---that was me. “Adventure” for me was trying a new ice cream flavor or sitting somewhere different at my favorite restaurant. It was not sitting on the back of an alligator at an alligator rescue park, rescuing crabs at the beach, or camping out, complete with a fire, some s’mores, and a few hot dogs--even if the camp out was in the backyard. Growing up, I didn’t have brothers so “Wrestle Mania” and “Attack Mom” have become new games for me to learn.
In these past few years, I have done things that I would never imagined. I have met some special people who have been an encouragement. I’ve seen things that made me laugh, cry, and rejoice that God is a merciful, loving God. Most of all, I have found that God is true to His promises. “You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus.” (Philippians 4:20, The Message)
Sometimes I think I have to be the weirdest person ever because of my perspective on life. I fear that I’ve gotten it all wrong and that I’ll miss out on what’s important in life. When that fear hits, I know that I’m not looking at the right Source. I’m looking around to others and I’m not truly listening to Him. When I let fear stop me from taking chances or setting goals, then I know that I’m focusing on my abilities, not on Him. Through these past three years, I know that I didn’t make it on my own. I’ve been carried, lead, and loved by the One who has the whole picture in mind.
Sometimes I forget the wonderful promises God has made. When I am reminded, a peace floods and soothes the fears and doubts. Jeremiah 29:11-13 states, “I’ll take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out--plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me, and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you’re not disappointed.” (The Message) I’m so glad that God is true to His promises as this verse gives me hope that the adventure I’m on is one that is good, that it does have a future, and of course, it holds hope for more adventures grander than I could imagine.
“They’re here,” I told Hunter. He danced and sang. His brother Parker did the same. I put the ants in the refrigerator because the instructions said it would “calm them down.” After about 10 minutes, I took them out and carefully opened the tube they were snoozing in. I poured them into the farm when suddenly a few began to wake up and started crawling out of the tube on their own. Terror gripped me. I screamed, dropping the tube on the table. Ants began crawling everywhere. Hunter ran away, shrieking and crying. Parker followed suit as he is at the stage of “monkey see, monkey do.” Suddenly, I realized that crawling on my table were my son’s passion. These insects were what my son longed to study and watch. At any other time, I would have grabbed the can of Raid and given them a nuclear fallout. Instead, I grabbed a long green stick for them to climb on and to be placed in the farm.
I wasn’t going to let them get away. I saved those ants, one by one, and in a few minutes, after the tears and screaming had subsided, two wide-eyed little boys came creeping back into the kitchen.
“Is it safe?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, you can come see them now.”
Hunter and Parker were mesmerized by the farm. I didn’t orchestrate that adventure, but I’m glad I was a part of it. I don’t know what other adventures are ahead as I journey into the world of boys---crazy, funny, silly, one-of-a-kind boys. But I’m glad I can take God at His word that it will be good
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