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Because sometimes you just need something to make you smile

January 4, 2013 by

Happy Friday, everyone. We are at the tail end of our break and I am relishing the laid back days. Next week life starts back in full swing. Until then, I hope that these images will bring a smile to your face, because they honestly make me laugh out loud.

Of course, I am only slightly partial to these tiny people, but whatever. Laugh with me, won’t you?

I puffy heart love this photo

Super Spy...

I have no idea...

I don't know why this one makes me laugh. I think it's Landon's too small coat and trucker hat. And Tia's toothless grin...

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Holidays, Kids, Kids do the darndest things Tagged With: , ,

Delightfully Five

December 16, 2012 by

If I could describe this kid in one word, it would be DELIGHT. Parenting him is a delight. He is a delight. Loving him is a delight. Last night, I kissed the four year old goodbye.

Today, I welcomed a five year old.

Dear God, I love this kid.

Humor me as I walk you down memory lane…

 

2007

 

 

2008

 

Side note: I’m sorry I ever dressed you like this. It was wrong, but sweet heavens it makes for awesome pictures…

 

 2009

 

 

2010

 

 

2011

 

 

2012

 

Ah! That smile! And those freckles!

 

Happy Birthday to the most delightful 5 year old I know!

(Now please, for the love of all things holy, stop growing. Just stop. Enough. Stay right here…)

Filed Under: Kids, Landon, Motherhood

Christmas time is here!

November 29, 2012 by

Oh the weather outside is frightful…unless you live in Florida where the weather is truly delightful and the thought of building a fire is frightful. We have to buy our snowmen down here, dontcha know?

With the holiday season fast approaching (or, you know, already upon us), I thought it would be fun to share some ideas on how to make the holidays count. The greatest thing about Christmas is the spirit of giving that seems to overtake us. Though we try to keep that spirit up all year long, this time of year is always especially sweet and poignant. So I’m going to share a couple of things we have done, or are doing, and I would love to hear what you’re doing with your families.

Two years ago, we threw a Christmas party at our house for the kids. They played, ate Christmas cookies and Lee read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke. What made this party particularly fun for everyone was all the kids brought new, unwrapped toys which we then donated to the local Ronald McDonald House.

We didn’t have a party like this last year because we were new and didn’t know anyone, but the party is on again this year and we are so excited! There’s something so fun about coming together as a community and blessing ohters in need. The kids especially get into it, which makes it even more delightful.

Image from: http://www.compassion.com/catalog/equip-family-with-livestock.htm

Another thing we love to do is give gifts through Compassion International. We go through their gift catalog and each kid gets to pick one or two things they would like to give. Usually these things end up being farm animals because really, what’s more fun than buying a goat for someone?!

Having travelled with Compassion to Tanzania in May, I’m so much more connected to this process than I was before. I saw how a goat could not only provide a family some nourishment, but also a stream of income, which would allow them to provide for their children. Providing livestock for a family is the best $50 you will ever spend, I can guarantee it.

Last year, on Christmas morning before we even opened gifts, we shuttled the kids out the door, met up with some friends and headed to downtown Tampa where we served the homeless hot coffee, breakfast sandwiches and a little Christmas love. This was deeply impactful for the kids and for Lee and I. It was a beautiful way to celebrate the morning and I believe we came home feeling equally blessed. I’m not sure we can do this again as laws have changed and been put in place to prohibit those things, but we are looking into it. 

The most important thing we’ve learned over the years as we’ve parented and raised these children is how little our family needs and how much so many others lack. We have drastically reduced the number of gifts our children receive at Christmas for a number of reasons, one of them being the fact that they just don’t need more toys to sit in their rooms and gather dust.

I would rather buy my children two meaningful gifts that they will love and use than five useless toys that they’ll play with once and cast aside. I love giving my kids gifts. I love seeing their faces light up when they open a present. Those looks are so much more meaningful, though, when we all know we have given of ourselves first.

This has been a learning process for me. I was so worried that my kids would be disappointed when they saw how little was under the tree, but I so vastly underestimated their capacity to love others and their desire to bless. My kids did not complain at all about not getting many gifts. What a lesson that’s been to me.

So how about you? What do you do to foster the spirit of giving in your home? I know you all have a lot of great ideas. None of our ideas are original. We didn’t think of those things on our own. We learned from observing what others have done and we decided to follow suit. I don’t share any of these ideas to toot our horns by any means. I always love to hear how others are working to make the holidays more meaningful and learn from those ideas.

I’d love to hear how you are blessing others this season. Or perhaps you have been on the receiving end of a blessing. How has that affected you?

MERRY CHRISTMAS, FRIENDS!

 

Fa, la, la, la, la…man. 

Filed Under: Christmas, Family, Holidays, Kids, Life

The Terrible, Awful, No-Good, Very Bad Day

November 27, 2012 by

You know those days when nothing seems to go right and you think, “Golly Gee. I sure wish this icky day would skeedaddle.”

Or, you know…something along those lines.

Well, folks. THAT was our Monday. Totally and completely icky. Like, not swell, man.

The day started alright. Christmas decorations were up, the house was fairly clean despite half of Orlando having visited over the weekend and I got ten pages of my novel written. It seemed like one of those sunshiney days that musicals are made of. I think, actually, that’s what made everything go awry. The day was too perfect. There’s nowhere to go but down from perfection.

The kids came home from school in great moods. They were jazzed and revived after a week off and immediately set into their homework in a way that was almost freaky in a Stepford kinda way. Tia even took her homework outside because it was freaking 74 degrees out. Even Mother Nature felt pretty good about herself.

Apparently, however, the devil wanted to ruin this idyllic day. It started when Tia came in to play. Everyone was cheery and happy for about thirty minutes. Sloan sat on the couch playing the iPad and Tia leaned over his shoulder to watch.

Then she shrieked.

“Something’s poking me!” she cried, yanking on her pants leg. I assumed she had some kind of sticker from outside and tried to pull her hands away from her leg, but she began trembling and crying and she dashed to her room, yanked the pants off and threw them at me. I picked them up and shook them and Hark! A massive bee fell out. Tia came out moments later with four large welts on her knee.

Strike one to the perfect day.

An hour later, half the neighborhood was over playing kickball in our backyard. Lee came home and, ever the awesome Daddy, he joined in on the game. Because I’d already started dinner, had laundry going, had the house cleaned and in general had nothing else to do, I decided to not be a fuddy duddy and join in on the neighborhood kickball game.

Truth be told, I succombed to Mom-Guilt. I felt bad for not playing with my kids and decided the nice mommy thing to do would be join in. I had on my Ugg boots and briefly considered changing the, but then decided, “Nah. I’ll just kick a couple of times then bow out.”

On my second kick, as I ran the bases, my left boot slipped a little, curling my toes underneath and sending all my weight onto the top of my foot.

Friends, the only pain I’ve ever felt worse than that was natural childbirth. It was as though someone lit my foot on fire and to make matters worse all the neighborhood kids were gathered around so I could neither cry or curse, both of which I wanted to do in abundance.

So four bee stings and a broken foot. Day’s not shaping up well. (And yes, the foot’s broken. I got an X-Ray just to be sure. It’s just a hairline fracture and should heal quickly. I also learned that I have two bones in my foot that are not connected and likely have never been. It’s a rare something or other people have from birth. So…there’s something you didn’t know about me, eh?)

As I sat on the couch nursing my swollen foot a neighbor boy came in looking for an iPad to play. He grabbed Lee’s. He dropped Lee’s. It shattered.

And that’s when we sent everyone away and hunkered down for the night hoping to avoid any more lightening strikes.

There’s a moral to this story, you know. No…”Don’t Play Kickball in Uggs” is NOT the moral. “Don’t let neighbor kids touch expensive electronics” isn’t the moral, either, though is has been added to our house rules. No, those are not the morals to be taken from this story. CLEARLY the moral is “Mom-Guilt Clouds Your Judgement Making You Think That Playing Ball with Your Kids is Better Than Sitting Down in a Quiet House with a Book for Fifteen Minutes.”

 

The End.

 

 

So…how’s your week going so far, hmmmm?

PS: At the end of the day, I’m more than aware that we are so blessed. I am beyond grateful for all that we have and I don’t share our horrible awful day to complain so much as to laugh a bit, because seriously?! How can all that go on in the span of just a couple of hours?!

So don’t cry for me, Argentina…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Life, Sports Tagged With: , , ,

Are we having fun, yet?

November 19, 2012 by

This post has been spotlight featured on BlogHer. I’m so glad to know other people understand and can relate to this roller coaster called parenting. If you’re stopping by from Blogher, welcome! I’m so glad you came.

“He pushed me!”

“He called me a dumb head!”

“She started it!”

“I’m not her fwiend anymore.”

Somewhere right in the middle of all that joy, I told them to sit down and smile. “Act like you’re having fun,” I commanded. But, clearly, I was not having fun. SeaWorld wasn’t turning out how I thought it would.

It’s funny how we set up these scenario’s in our heads. I’m going to take them to an amusement park where they will skip merrily from one attraction to another, braids bouncing, hats turned just slightly to the side, contented smiles plastered firmly on their faces.

The sun will shine.

A rainbow will form in the background.

Birds will sing in harmony.

It will be money well spent.

But what actually happens? They fight. They pull each other’s braids and knock hats off of heads. They whine and beg for cotton candy. They complain about tired feet (never mind the fact that they can run in the backyard for hours on end, but ask them to walk 200 yards in an amusement park and suddenly their feet are broken).

It rains.

High winds shut down rides.

A bird poops on your head.

You wish you would have used that money to go get a facial.

I’ve come to the realization in the last few years that special events as a family demand a special amount of patience and a realistic expectation. Expect tears and fights. Expect whining and complaining. But be on the lookout for the joy filled moments, too. They will be there, though in reality there may be more tears than laughter.

We set our kids up for failure when we plan these major trips to the beach, to the amusement park, to the movies, to the zoo or to any place that is going to over exert, overstimulate and over tempt them. Disney World may be the most magical place on earth, but it’s also the most overstimulating and any child that makes it through that park without some sort of melt down is probably just a robot.

It's also best to know that you will NOT look your best at an amusement park. Keep the expectations low, folks...

 So what are the expectations?

 

First, expect some whining and be prepared to deal with it. Stomping your foot and calling your child ungrateful is likely not the best response. He probably isn’t ungrateful so much as he’s overwhelmed. A thousand things to look at in every direction is basically system overload for kids. Be patient while they try to take it all in.

Expect arguing. This one gets under my skin faster than anything else. As evidenced by the above picture, when everyone is fighting I can’t even force a smile because what I really want to do is Hulk Smash Shamoo and his permanent,perpetual grin. But if I prepare myself ahead of time and prep the kids, we can usually make it through the arguments with a tiny bit of sanity.

And we might even have fun in the process.

Expect crying. Don’t get angry when they cry about being tired. They’re kids. They’re going to cry. If they’re tired, find a ride where they can sit down for a bit. Find a cafe and get a drink. Go to a show. If you’re at the beach, sit under an umbrella with a juice box and take a minute to breath in deep.

Give everyone a chance to recover. Landon cried most of the morning while we were at SeaWorld. He was tired and cranky, which made me tired and cranky. Learn from me, friends.

Don’t let this make you tired and cranky!

And don’t Hulk Smash Shamoo. Apparently that is looked down upon by some folks…

Finally, look for the joy and snap those pictures. Wait for the moments when they aren’t really aware of your watching eye and they are full on enjoying a moment. It may be brief. You may only have one or two truly joy-filled moments in a day, but capture and remember them.

And when you get home, be sure to print out those pictures of everyone’s happy, smiling faces and put them in an album. Convince your kids that the greatest thing you ever did as a family was spend the day at SeaWorld or Disney or the beach or the zoo. With any luck, all the memories of the fighting and crying and whining will fade away and you’ll be left with nothing but dreams and rainbows and harmonizing birds.

Creating memories takes hard work. Just be prepared and try to enjoy the ride.

Find the Magic

What’s your favorite family memory?

Filed Under: Family, Florida, funny stuff that happens, Grace, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: , , ,

When belief trickles down

October 29, 2012 by

“I do NOT want to sing on stage. People will look at me and see me and maybe laugh.”

And she made sure she was not seen. At the close of VBS this summer, Tia positioned herself as far back on the stage as she possibly could so that no one would see her during the songs. She hid. We couldn’t catch a glimpse except for one moment when I thought I saw her little hand up in the air.

Fear.

 

She has always hated being on stage. Being in front of people has terrified her only slightly less than it terrifies her brothers. And when Tia, my stubborn, fierce, I-know-who-I-am-and-you-will-not-alter-me second born refuses to do something, it takes nothing short of an act of Congress to change her mind.

Scratch that – the grumpiest, stodgiest and stubbornest of all Congressman couldn’t get this child to do something she doesn’t want to do.

So imagine my utter shock when Tia came to me last week and asked if she could sing on stage at church.

Um…who is this child again?

She came with me to choir practice and sat confidently by my side. She can’t read well yet, so I found myself a bit tickled at the intensity with which she studied the music. No worries, though. She knows these songs.

All week, I waited for her to back out – to change her mind. Of all my children, she is the last one I would have ever suspected of stepping up on stage and singing in front of a group of people. I assured her she didn’t have to stand in front of a microphone and that seemed to be enough to satisfy any fears that still lingered.

And Sunday morning she proudly walked up in front of everyone, the youngest in the group. She didn’t even need to hold my hand. With a confidence and poise that took my breath away, she conquered fear and led. And I have never felt more proud.

I don’t think it’s any coincidence that my daughter took this step at the end of this month. I’ve spent the last 31 Days boldly believing that I, too, can do the things that intimidate me. I haven’t written 31 posts about the subject, because…well, that would have been terribly boring.

But I have adopted the attitude of believing I can and I have chosen to speak confidently – moreso than I usually do. I’ve written more on my book this month than I ever have in a single month before. I’ve taken steps in several areas to move past fear, past laziness, past the mountains that stand in my way so that I could feel more sure of where I’m headed.

It’s not that I ever really thought I couldn’t do any of these things. It’s simply that they seemed so hard and scary that I was content to drag my feet and…well, sit in the corner and hope things went my way.

But when I stopped allowing myself to be intimidated by the hard things I felt a renewed confidence in my own abilities. Could it be that such confidence has trickled down? Could it be that my willingness to embrace who God has made me and how I can use those gifts to bless others has impacted my children? I certainly wasn’t making any extra effort to live more boldly in front of them, but I did feel much more sure of myself because I made it a point to do so.

I chose to believe.

She chose to believe.

Is there anything more moving and beautiful than a child singing praise songs? A child who has turned from fear and walks in confidence?

I don’t want my children to be content to sit in a corner. I don’t want them to hide who they are out of fear of who might see. Each of my kids is so uniquely gifted and I want them to walk in full confidence of those gifts.

Who will teach them?

 

Who will teach your children?

Filed Under: 31 Days, faith, Family, Kids, Tia Tagged With: , , , ,

Major Mom Fail – I may have ruined her for life

October 17, 2012 by

A few years ago, I had this little game I’d play with the kids. For those of you who have been around here awhile, you may remember it. I would put Landon’s sock monkey in all kinds of funny and strange places and Tia and Landon were convinced he was alive. They loved waking up or coming home and seeing where the monkey would be next.

IT was a fun game!

We haven’t played the game in awhile, so last night I thought I’d pull out the old “your toys might be alive and love to move around trick.” Tia has had her American Girl dolls set up like this for days.

“The Girls” have been celebrating McKenna’s 7th birthday. Obviously. And every day, Tia would walk in her room and then immediately run out to exclaim in wonder at the fact they were still partying. “They just really love to party, Mom.”

Our American Girl dolls are party girls. Awesome…

So last night, on a whim, I decided to pull the old trick out of my hat. After Tia went to sleep, I arranged the dolls in various party positions thinking she would wake up in the morning and laugh at the fact that they must have really been having fun through the night.

 

Around 5:00 this morning, I felt her standing over me. (Why do kids go all Children of the Corn in the middle of the night?!) She was breathing heavy and when I finally opened my eyes I saw her inches from my face. I almost karate chopped her.

“Mom!” she hissed. “I woke up and my dolls were all over my room. IT’S. SO. FREAKY!”

It took me a minute to register her words and to decipher them in my sleepy state. “What?” I asked.

“Marie Claire is sitting on top of the lamp, and Kit pulled a drawer of clothes out and McKenna is on top of the table and Cecile is waving at me on the dresser. I’m too scared to go back to my room.”

I was so out of it myself that I honestly could not figure out what she was talking about, so I sent her to sleep in the trundle in Landon’s room. About thirty minutes later, I heard Tia and Landon both screaming my name across the house.

“MooooOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!”

Tearing out of my room, I ran to them. Tia had turned every single light in the house on from our room to hers. I found her and Landon huddled under the covers.

“Why are you screaming my name?” I said, exasperated.

“We’re scared to get out of Landon’s bed in case the dolls might try to attack us.”

And then I remembered my little…um…joke.

So…I guess that backfired, huh?

For those of you interested, I will be teaching parenting classes in the near future. The first class? How to scare the crap out of your kids in one easy step.

Filed Under: Kids, Motherhood, Tia Tagged With: , , ,

31 Days – Lunar Magic: Living Life with the Eyes of a Child

October 2, 2012 by

 

Do you remember being in awe of nature as a child? Did you ever sit beneathe a black-blue sky dotted with a milliion stars and gasp at the wonder of it all? Did you marvel at a sunset or watch the clouds float by in an array of shapes.

An alligator! An elephant! A one-legged dog!

I remember specifically being around nine or ten years old and we had gone on a camping trip to some Jellystone Park in somewhere Wisconsin. While my parents worked hard to crank open the pop up camper, my brother and I romped in the wooded fields around us as the sun sank lower beyond the trees. And then we both stopped and gasped.

 

The glow of the moon lifted above the treeline before the moon itself appeared. It was huge and orange and seemed to hover just above the ground, willing us to reach out and touch. I remember standing breathless for several moments. I wanted to step forward and cross the expanse of sky to enter the golden, shimmery world that seemed to be just steps away.

As a roaring fire cackled and we prepared to bunk down for the night, I stole continual glances at the moon, which continued to rise up above the Earth, the orange hue fading and morphing into a brilliant white. A diamond in the sky.

I remember the magic of that moment, and it’s not the only time the moon’s nearness has stopped me in my tracks. There is something so glorious about the moon and it’s nearness and proximity.

Saturday night, we were in Clearwater with the boys while Tia spent the night at a friend’s house. The boys played football outside while Lee and I enjoyed a few rare moments of adult conversation. As the sky faded to a dusky grey, both boys came tumbling into the condo, screeching and motioning us to come.

 

I didn’t want to.

 

I had a glass of wine in my hand, my feet were propped up and I was enjoying the grown up conversation. But something in their eyes beckoned me to set the glass down and follow them out.

“You halfta see this!” they cried, motioning wildly. Lee and I followed them out and we stopped and gasped. The moon hung low over the Earth, bright and orange and filled with a golden magic.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Sloan asked and I remembered that night in the campground, when I felt it entirely possible to step off of Earth and run amongst the stars.

This month, I believe in living life with childlike wonder.

Have you looked at the moon lately?

This month, I am participating in The Nester’s 31 Day challenge, in which over 1,000 participants have chosen to write about one topic for 31 days. I choose to spend 31 Days Believing I Can. If you are stopping by from Nester’s site, welcome! Let me know in the comments so I can visit your site in return.

Filed Under: 31 Days, faith, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: , , , ,

My ears, they bleed

September 27, 2012 by

Alternately titled: Riding in cars with girls…

 

At least twice a week, Tia and I are in the car alone headed to gymnastics. I’d like to say this is a fun, relaxing girl time, but the truth is…it’s exhausting.

Girls talk a lot. I mean, I know that I am a girl and I’m quite certain I talked a lot as a kid (in fact, I distinctly remember my mom asking me to be quiet on occasion because her ears hurt. Hmph…), but I really wasn’t prepared for the intensity of the chatting. Half the time I don’t even understand what she is saying. Take, for example, this most recent conversation (which I can only remember pieces of because I’m not kidding she talks without breathing…)

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…(every new sentence begins with this phrase)”

Me: “What?”

Tia: “Riley has an older sister and she got her ears pierced and she said that it hurted really bad and her sister cried and her sister is eleven…and she cried.”

Me: *open mouth to respond but there isn’t time so I close it again*

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…”

Me: *open mouth the respond but there isn’t time so I close it again*

Tia: “There’s this boy who is in my group and I think he likes me, but I don’t like him. I mean I do like him, but I only like him like…you know…like a boy. But not like a boyfriend. I don’t like anybody like a boyfriend, right mom?”

I don’t even attempt a response.

Tia: “I don’t know if I want to get my ears pierced. I mean, I kind of do want to get my ears pierced but I’m a little nervous. Does it hurt weally bad to get your ears pierced, Mom? Can I get my ears pierced, Mom?”

Me: *open mouth to respond but there isn’t time so I close it again*

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…my friend in my class said she wears a bwa (bra). She’s six! Six year olds don’t wear bwas, right Mom? Can a six year old wear a bwa? Do I need to wear a bwa, Mom?”

I would really like to respond to this, but there simply isn’t time.

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…when I play soccer, I think I might be the star player, ’cause I think I’m pretty good at soccer. But I don’t know if I should be a professional soccer player when I grow up or a professional gymnastics girl. Maybe I should be both, right Mom? And a veteranian. I want to be a vet, ‘kay Mom?”

I manage to nod.

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…sometimes when I go to school I play with just the boys on the playground, but not usually. Only sometimes. Mostly I just play with the girls. Mom I smell centipedes. Do you smell centipedes?”

I…I just…I don’t…huh? Oh wait. She stopped talking. This is the question she wants me to answer?

Tia: “Mom. Mom!”

Me: “What?!”

Tia: “Did you hear me?”

Me: “I…uh…yes?”

Tia: “Oh Mom, guess what…”

And on and on it goes until we arrive. And I think she only manages to use an eighth of her daily allotted words because it starts all over again on the way home. So if you see me out in public and I look lost in a daze, just know I’m trying to process it all.

And I’m trying to figure out what the heck centipedes smell like…

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood, Tia Tagged With: , , ,

Amidst the flames

September 17, 2012 by

Last night I smothered them all in kisses. Soft cheeks still ripe with innocence and youth. Noses dotted with the freckles of childhood, when life is secure and free and beautiful and each day can be met with wonder and imagination.

I don’t tell them about the fires. I don’t mention the lives lost and the political uproar, the fear for what tomorrow might hold. I don’t share the unrest or the prevailing hatred that threatens to overwhelm. While flames lick the embassies and grieving loved ones bury heroes, I play another round of UNO, wipe another runny nose and gather my chicks under my wing with nothing more than a prayer.

These are scary times. I look at my children sometimes and I wonder, what will they face? I think of the little girl who may already be waiting for us across the ocean and I long to gather her close, too. To protect her from the scary. To tell her it’s okay, everything is going to be alright.

I haven’tcompletely sheltered the kids. Sloan and I talked politics just the other day. He watched footage of the 9-11 Memorial and I did not try to hide my tears as I listened to a mother remember her son who perished in the flames of that awful day. He knows that evil exists. He understands that there are those who possess a hatred so fierce it causes them to commit the unthinkable.

But while these flames burn, I feel an overwhelming urge to keep my little ones near and to guard their innocence with all the ferocity I’ve been given as their mother. I whisper prayers over them each night. I pray for protection and peace and for days filled with the magical fantasy that only the youthful can possess. 

I pray this not just for my children, but for all the children. I think of Moses and Mwajuma and the different kind of innocence they possess. I pray for the little ones who are trapped right in the center of the flames, the ones burying their daddies and the ones who go to sleep at night to the sporadic sounds of gunshots.

In the nighttime hours, I study the candidates and dissect what they believe so that, when the time comes, I can use what little power I have to try and protect the future for my children. I learn and try to understand and ultimately I remember that in the end, it is God who places people in power and it is all for a reason.

I will fight the flames the only way I can and I will do so with as much education as I can to ensure I truly understand the choices I am making. Because those choices don’t just affect me – they affect them. They affect my children, the ones who are set to grow up in this beautiful, wonderful, scary, volatile world.

My vote and my prayers are the only weapons I’ve got and I take my responsibility to utilize them seriously.

 

Yesterday, I sat behind a woman and her three children who had that very morning said goodbye to a husband and a daddy. He had left in the early morning hours for a nearly nine-month long deployment to Afghanistan. I watched as she and her mother-in-law clutched hands through the worship set, each swiping tears from her eyes in a swift motion of strength and vulnerability.

Two women with the young ones huddled securely beneathe their arms. A hero sent into the flames. My vote and my prayer all I have as back up.

 

 

I believe in the power of both.

 

I will utilize both my vote and my prayers with as much humility and wisdom as I have been granted. I will vote with passion and conviction, but I will not step into the voting booth with hatred.

Hatred ignites the flame.

I have a responsibility to guard my chldren – all the children – from the heat of those flames.

I urge you, my friends, to educate yourselves before this election. Don’t vote based on emotion or popularity or even based on what you’ve voted in the past. We cannot be lackadaisical in our knowledge of the issues. We must go forth with conviction and courage.

The heat of the flames must compel us forward in wisdom, grace and humility and, above all else, we have to protect the little ones who are coming up behind us.

Are you prepared to vote?

Filed Under: faith, Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood, politics Tagged With: , , , ,
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