My Son is a Student Driver....

.... And You Once Were Also.

I want you to remember that, as you drive down the road, honking maniacally at the teenager driving the speed limit and obeying the traffic laws in front of you.  As you deem yourself 'stuck' behind the slowest driver on the planet, waving your favorite finger and yelling your favorite unchristian words at him.  As you pass him illegally, screaming out your window, cell phone in one hand, coffee in the other, putting everyone on the two lane back road at risk.  Endangering my child's life because your phone call and arriving at your destination before everyone else are more important than his life.

Few things make a mom hit her knees in prayer more than having her child behind the wheel of a car, and let me tell you, I've got bruises on mine.  But knowing my child has already had numerous run-ins with people like this just frightens me all the more.  We're talking wrap-my-kid-in-bubble-wrap level of fear.

Everyone has to learn, and everyone must start somewhere. Noah has a fair level of confidence, and he does very well.  He still stalls at the stop signs every now and then, and, as a smart new driver, he takes the speed cautions on back road curves seriously.  No triple-dog-daring for him, he wants to make it home safely with his dad to his mama and his little brothers (and his mama likes it that way).  Noah is a smart kid.  Shawn started him off in the neighborhood, graduated him the roads around our neighborhood and now they've taken on some of the more challenging back roads, but still no major roads or highways.

I don't want to address road rage as an issue with this blog, even though it is a major problem in our country; I want to address putting a student driver at risk, and remembering that we all were, at one point, student drivers, and the need to be patient with today's student drivers.  We can't possibly know for sure the driver next to us or in front of us is a student driver and not a distracted driver, but let's go back to that word again:  PATIENCE.  We all tend to lose that skill when we get caught up in 70 mph traffic on the 4 lane highway in the middle of rush hour.  But what about the 2 lane back roads, which are supposed to be taken at a safe, leisurely 45 mph speed?  Enjoy the view, relax, and be grateful for the student driver in front of you who just saved you from plowing into that tree on that curve had you been going your usual 70 mph.

To put it another way--do you want to be the reason parents have to bury their child?  Because you were too impatient, because your phone call was more important and you were the distracted driver, because you chose to make dangerous, unsafe and illegal choices?

Please, my children are my life.  I live for them.  I love them more than you could understand.  Please be patient with them, and all the student drivers, on the road.  Be kind.

My son is a student driver, and you once were also.

You've Earned Your Wings

Dearest Mirranda Grace,

I never knew you or your parents, but your death has devastated me.  I've prayed so hard for you, for your recovery, for your miracle, for your complete healing.  I know I'm not the only complete stranger in this position today.  I've prayed for the compassion of the hospital, I've prayed for your family, for your precious parents who have fought so hard for you.  I've fasted, my friends have fasted, my friends have prayed with me, and you've been a prayerful subject in our home.  I've prayed for you at the altar, both by myself and with an intercessor; I've cried out to God. I let loose with wailing sobs last night after my boys went to bed. I couldn't hold it in any longer.  My husband held me for the longest time while I cried about the unfairness of it, while I cried that if God could take your parents' miracle child, could He take ours, and repeatedly asking why He took you?  Eventually I woke up two of our boys, and they came down to comfort me. I just don't understand, precious one, I just don't understand.  Logically, I know your suffering is over--God couldn't stand to see you suffer here on earth anymore.  Your work was finished.  He just couldn't 'fix' you here.  So He took you Home, the only way He could heal you 100%.  You are healed, whole, better, running, laughing playing with other little girls.  But emotionally, in my mama heart--it just doesn't make sense.  I want to curl into a ball--but to honor your memory properly, I care for, and deeply love my own children even more than I already do. I play with them, laugh, joke, hug, kiss, chase them in a game even more.  I will spend each day watching them more carefully, being more grateful for them, and for their good health EVEN MORE.

I wanted so badly to just walk past you and your family in the grocery story one day, and just smile.  I  just wanted to see you bouncing, happy, laughing, healed, whole, not a single sign of the ordeal you'd been through.  I wanted to see your parents swinging you between them, looking down at you, love in their eyes, smiles on their faces, relief in their bodies.

You were their miracle child, your mom and dad's infertility child, the child they tried for for so long, and God finally gifted you to them.  It is difficult for me to understand why God took you from them so soon after granting you to them.

The doctors declared you brain dead.  They wanted to declare you legally dead, but your parents wouldn't have it.  They believed you were still in there, and rightfully so, declaring that God is the only one who has the last word.  They fought so hard against the hospital and the legal system.  They wanted to just take you home and care for you themselves.  What is came down to with the hospital, was the bottom line--you cost them money.  What a sad, unfortunate way to view a child--to view anyone's child.  How callous.  Your parents--what an amazing example to the rest of us.  How beautiful.

I'm not ready to take your name off our prayer wall.  You will remain up there for a while to come. I was never much of a prayer warrior before reading the first article about you, but there was just something--God said that I really needed to pray, and pray fervently, and I did.  My prayer mantra for you was, "Your breath, Your blood"--Jesus' breath, Jesus' blood, just for you, sweet girl.  Jesus breathing for you, his breath in your lungs, his blood rushing through your veins, healing you with each breath and each pump of your heart.  My prayer now will change for your soul, and for your family, for their recovery and healing, especially your dear mum, as this all began on her birthday.  I will also pray for those doctors and lawyers.  It may not be my place, but I personally need something good to come from this, whether I ever know about it or not.  Perhaps your parents' unwavering faith was/is a testimony to someone at the hospital or in the court, or someone else following the news articles about you, someone who needed to be led to, or back to God, someone who needed a reason to believe.

I can't properly explain how much you touched our lives here, or why.  I have a a few theories, but I won't go into those.  With each prayer I prayed every day, every hour, you gave my life more purpose.  I will never forget your amazing blue eyes and that beautiful smile of yours in the photo your parents distributed!! That is the you I choose to hold in my memory, rather than the photo of you in the coma, wires and tubes attaches. Thank you for allowing me the blessing of praying for you.  My tears are not over, but I know they will change over time as God gives me the vision of you playing in Heaven, pain free, and unencumbered by tubes and wires.

You've earned your wings, precious girl.  Fly free. And if you happen to meet a little girl with yellow hair name Grace, please tell her Mommy loves her very much, and some day we'll see each other.

In the Spirit of Thanksgiving (Supernatural Superglue)

"With friendships, I found my desire for connection was stronger than my fear of rejection"
--Lisa Whelchel

I'm not a moms' group type of person.  I get halfway through a meeting, and I'm ready to run.  I've tried several, but they're too cliquy, too personal, or not personal enough, too big, or too small, too organized, or too unorganized, too touchy-feely, or not touchy-feely enough.  Some advertised meeting for fellowship, but were in fact very Pinterest-y, or concentrated on having speakers, or snuck in a bible study or book group.  Some provided child care (because, let's face it, one of the obvious reasons we go to moms groups is to get a break from our children), while others expected your child to sit beside you, perfectly quiet, ankles crossed, hands folded, flawlessly parted hair (no cowlicks, here!), and don't forget the designer clothing!   I used to compare myself to the perfect moms with their perfect bodies sipping their perfect soy lattes bragging about their perfect and brilliant princesses, wondering what I could possibly have in common with these women.  I could feel their eyes judging me.  I didn't feel safe when I tried to share, I felt pitied.  I was desperate to connect, but I feared rejection even more.  I just couldn't find a moms group that fit my needs, kept my eyes from rolling out of my head and made me feel safe.  So, I swore off moms' groups. Bu-bye.

I'm also a perpetual bible study drop out.  A few weeks in, and I would stop going.  I might've made an excuse or two at first, then just conveniently forget about it.  Oops.  

Oh, and then there's that whole introversion thing.

So when Pastor L approached me and two other women about leading a moms' group at our church, I was standing up to leave before she could finish her sentence!  Ohhhh, no, no, no!  I'd been this road too many times in attendance of these ridiculous groups, absolutely no way was I going to lead one!!!  In my head, I heard His voice, plain as day, "Amy Noelle, if you don't sit down this very instant and hear her out, I'm going to use supernatural superglue on your behind to make sure you do!"  Alllllllrighty then.

And so we began--three shy, introverted women, wondering what in the world we were doing, but listening to God and trusting in Him that it would all work out, and hoping HE knew what we were doing!

We began our group a little over a year ago meeting every two weeks. We could not believe how many moms signed up!  We quickly moved to meeting every week because we realized just how much we needed each other.  There was an immediate connection, love, compassion, an understanding among us. There are some weeks we would meet every day, if we could!  Many of the connections groups take off during the holidays and summers, but we keep on going.  There is a need this group fills for each of us. We don't lead with a curriculum like many groups do; we lead with our hearts for each other and our Father, God leads us.  We are a support group, a friendship circle, a fellowship group, not necessarily a bible study or book club, but if one of finds something during our quiet time during the week, we will share it with the rest of the group.

We have amazing, loving sitters, but if a child needs to join us, we kind of pass him or her around.  There's a good chance at least one of us has snacks, juice boxes and toys in our purses or diaper bags, and those are shared.  Children are not expected to sit quietly and behave--they are children, after all! Good grief, let them act like children!  As for the babies, if you don't bring them to me in our meeting room and let me take them home pass them around, well, what's the point in coming?!?!?!  Just kidding, just kidding!!!  But seriously, let me hold your baby.

I can't imagine life without these women.  I'm grateful my co-leaders and I took that leap, and I'm so grateful for each and every one of these amazing women.  They are such gifts to me!  There is no judgement--Rule #1--and there is always confidentiality--Rule #2.  We offer a safe place for whatever we need to say, and however we need to say it.  Some days we're more organized than others--and the days we're not, we realize those are the days God is leading the best.  On the days we do have something planned, we throw it all out the window for good conversation, or if someone has something in particular she really needs to talk out.

We are none of the things in the first paragraph of this post.  What we are is: Faithful to each other, caring, loving, providing, understanding, listening, laughing, sharing.  We cry with each other, we praise and worship with each other, we fill in each other's blanks.  We are each other's supernatural superglue.  Last week, I began to cry during my prayer and couldn't finish it, so a friend picked up where I had to leave off.  She doesn't even know the person I was praying for, but that's what she did for me.  THAT is only one amazing part of what our beautiful little group is about.

Most importantly, we are FRIENDS.  We can count on each other, we lean on each other.  We pray for each other, and love each other.  And for that, I'm eternally grateful.

It took me fifteen years to find these women and form this group.  My point is this--do not give up.  If you are not the group type, but long to belong, I encourage you to please do not give up.  If you belong to a church, speak to your connection group leader about forming a group and look for other women with whom to form it.  If you are looking for a group within your community, Google is a great place to start.  Contact the leaders, and quiz them, give one meeting a try.  Please don't give up, please keep searching until you find your own supernatural superglue.  Much to love and blessings to you on your search, dear one.

You Deserve Him

Dearest One,

There is someone I know.  I know him well.  I love him dearly, he's been so good to me.  He followed me, pursued me for years.  I resisted him.  I was raised with him--although later on I learned I didn't know him the way I thought I did--but I got to the point I really defied him.  I was just so angry at him!  As an adult, a friend told me it was okay to be angry at him, for he already knew the depth of my anger-- and the depth of his love could cover it. I wanted nothing to do with him, unless it was to blame him and point my finger at him for the way I felt my life was turning out.

My friend told me he knew what was best for my life, and I needed to learn to trust him.  Trusting anyone was not my strong point, and it took me a long time.  If this man knew what was best for me, why did so much of it feel like pain and hurt?  What could possibly come from any of that?

I did learn to trust.  And I learned to learn.  I learned to listen.

This Man became Healer.  Teacher.  Father--Abba, Daddy.  He became Joy, Calm, King.  He calls me Daughter, Beloved.  He died for me, because I am so important to Him.  He has promised me eternal life--and all He wants in return is me.  All of me. He is Hope, and Beauty, Grace and Mercy, Wisdom and Guidance. He is Provider, Power, Redeemer.  He is Creator.  When others fail me, He is my Constant.  Most importantly, HE.  IS.  LOVE.

You are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.  Psalm 32:7

Precious one, these are the very same things He is for you.  Do you know that He died just for you, also?  You are so priceless to Him that He knows the very hairs on your head. When earthly ones fail you, He is there, Father, Friend, Faithful.  He is our example of what a gentleman should be, and how we deserve to be treated.

Fear not, for I am have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  Isaiah 43:1

You are worthy of Him.  You deserve so much better than the way you are being treated right now, and He wants you to know that.  This is not how He intended life for you.  Let Him in.  Call Him into your heart.  Let Him show you the way.  You are deserve Him, you are worth it.  Don't try to wrap your head around His unconditional love after years of abuse, because even a person who hasn't experienced abuse can't comprehend it.  For the longest time I wanted to know WHY He loves me, and the answer is "He just does.  Because you are His child." You don't have to earn it, you don't have to keep it, you don't have to dance through hoops.  He created you, and He loves you.

I love you so very much, and it hurts me so much to see you in pain.  I know you're hurting.  As much as it hurts me, I know it hurts Him even more.  As much as I cry for you, I know He cries even more.  Let Him in.  He cares for you, and loves you so very much.

Love Always,
Me

"Happy" Veteran's Day

I don't want this post to be one of accidental disrespect, or extreme negativity.  I will start off by saying I have nothing but the utmost respect for our military and veterans.  I am grateful for them, for their families, and the sacrifices they make on behalf of our country every day.  I have a deep pride, and a deep love for this amazing country of ours.  Today, we have the humbling blessing of honoring our many veterans.  I praise God for these men and women, for their wisdom and strength, and for following the commandments the Lord has given them.

However, I struggle with the sentiment "Happy Veteran's Day."  I know that many say it for lack of any other way to express their gratitude, but I do wish people would think their words over, and choose them more carefully.

Perhaps the 'happy' is when the veteran comes home at all, but sadly, most of our veterans are coming home badly bruised and broken.  They are lost souls, and they, along with their families, suffer horribly. Many of our veterans come home and cannot function in everyday society.  They cannot function within their own homes and families.  It's sad and there is nothing 'happy' about it.

In 2013, a VA study found that at least 22 veterans were/are committing suicide every day.  In 2014, at least 50,000 veterans accounted for the homeless community.  PTSD affects at least 31% of Vietnam veterans, 10% of Gulf War veterans, and 11% and counting of our current wars and engagements.  The statistics go on.  And yes, there are statistics of successful veterans, as well.

I grew up with a functionally alcoholic and severely depressed father, who also had latent/undiagnosed PTSD, a result of his time in Vietnam.  There was nothing happy about that man.  No way about it, he suffered, and so did our family.  

That said, I also learned a lot.

I am always grateful for our veterans.  I am grateful beyond words for our military, and I have a deep love and pride for our country. This love and respect was grown by my father's 20-plus years in the USMC, and being raised surrounded by other so-called military brats just like me.  Shawn and I have taught our boys that every day is a day to celebrate our country and military, not just November 11.  We always express our gratitude.

I ask you to do the same--to express your gratitude.  To remember our veterans and military every day.  I ask you to please find a different way of doing so, a word other than 'happy.'

Today, and always, veterans of America, I honor you.  Thank you.

Hope, Not Hate

I've contemplated this all morning.  I understand this will not be a popular post, and I'm okay with that.  That's not why I write, anyway.

This past year, and especially in the past 24 hours, I've watched, sadly, as the enemy has divided.  He has come to conquer and ruin and destroy--and he's getting away with all of it, and we're letting him.  Families, friendships, working relationships, complete strangers--ruined by words, by hate, by differences in opinion and beliefs.  Rather than being kind to one another, everyone only wants to be right, consequences be damned. The enemy has brought hate and vitriol with him, and we fell right into his trap. Rather than fight against him, we are chanting along with him, BURN IT DOWN!  And yet--do we even know, or care, what we are burning down?

The thief enters only to steal, kill, and destroy. I came so that they could have life—indeed, so that they could live life to the fullest.  John 10:10

I am saddened by this.  There's just so much hate, too much hate.  I turned off my social media today because I couldn't take it anymore.  I'm weary.

I can't live this way.  As a Christian, as a human, a wife, a mom--as a friend.  My best friend and I are polar opposites.  I can't imagine my life without her!  We bring variety to each other's lives! We force each other to consider opinions different from our own!  One of the first things I did this morning was thank her for her, and tell her how grateful I am that we have always been able to agree to disagree.  This is part of what makes our friendship last.

What happened to being able to do this as a country, as humans?  Just agreeing to disagree, and moving on?  Shaking hands, and honoring one another's opinions?  What is the point to a democracy if we are all forced to think alike?  I don't care who you voted for, and it's also none of my business (which is another problem--social media has made everyone's politics everyone else's business, but that's another post)!  What I do care about it is how you treat other people (and animals).  Your opinions matter to me, because you matter to me!

We love because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19

Listen, we woke up this morning.  We are breathing.  We are blessed to live in a country with choices and freedoms, where our opinions are valued, and we are not persecuted for our beliefs.  There are people who do not have these blessings, and unfortunately, lack many others as well.

You are my refuge and my shield; I have put my hope in your word.  Psalm 119:114

Most of all, we will always have hope, and no matter who our president is, I have my Father, the King who reigns over all.  I will stand on the hope He, and He alone, gives.

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice; And let them say among the nations, "The LORD reigns." 1 Chronicles 16:31

We All Need A Little Christmas

(That's the sound of a mouthful of words.... Pardon while I type with my mouth full.)

I don't often do this, so take advantage while you can.  I'm going to eat my own words.  And no, this is not a political post, even though it may look like one.  But it's not.  It isn't, so please don't stop reading.

A few posts ago, I begged everyone to hold off on Christmas until after Thanksgiving.  Yeahhhhhh.  About that.

That was until I realized that in this season of electoral crap, the mess this country is in and the world in general--we NEED the 'magic' that Christmas brings.  Not the manufactured, store-bought greed Christmas, but the magical, seen-through-the-eyes-of-a-child, feel that wraps itself around you in a warm hug kind of way Christmas.

We are hurting.  As a nation, as a world, as individuals, as families.

This year, we NEED this.

So, BRING.  IT.  ON. Bring out those CDs and records and Pandoras and whatever else you have and BLAST those Christmas feel good songs!   Let's put up those decorations a month early!  Kick up your heels and stroll through the aisles of Christmas trees!  Cruise through the neighborhoods oohing and aching over the Christmas lights.  Find something to celebrate with hot chocolate.  Celebrate gratitude, life, liberty and freedom.  Celebrate whatever you want to celebrate! Agree to disagree with a friend, or even a total stranger.  Spread hugs, and smiles and prayers.

Most of all, remember the reason why we get to celebrate this holiday.  We need our Savior, perhaps now more than ever.

Just BE in the moment.  Be in the true spirit of this holiday.  Be with your family, your friends, your loved ones.  And for those who can't, please be with them in prayer, in spirit and in love.