~ THE PERFECT PARENT ~

Parenting is a very personal thing. My husband and I developed our "style" of parenting from learning what DOES NOT WORK for our children. I am certainly not naive enough to think that my views will work for every parent-child relationship. We are doing what works for us.


We began our parenting "by the book", or should I say "books".  I read everything I could get into my grubby little paws. I tuned into the local Focus On The Family program as often as I possibly could. Dr. James Dobson was my hero! He had so much information that I was sure would help me guide my precious little angels into perfect adults. We were very young parents and open to any input from any person who may have a hint of wisdom. I wanted to do it RIGHT!

When it was time for our daughter to go school, we dutifully placed her into a very well respected Christian school. Clothing was carefully chosen so as to never give a "worldly" appearance. Our children were directed to say "Yes Mam" and "No Mam". They were always to be respectful to adults No Matter What! We even chose to keep them from visiting with certain family members and friends for fear they would be exposed to things that were contrary to our faith. Our children listened to only "Christian" music and they viewed very limited movies and TV. We carefully monitored every aspect their lives.


I quickly discovered that all of my children fit Dr. Dobson's description of the 'strong-willed child'. They have always had very sharp minds and strong opinions. I developed a great deal of guilt as a working mother. As I faithfully listened to those radio broadcasts I discovered I was wounding my children by not being there with them to build their self esteem. By the time they were 15 months old I had missed out on many of the teaching opportunities that would be afforded me as the mom. I became more and more depressed the more I learned. I couldn't quit work. My children had gotten used to the creature comforts in life; food, clothing, a house.... you get the picture. What was I to do?


Then the time came that we could no longer afford to send our daughter to private school. She had to go, God forbid, to the evil public school system! How in the world would I govern her environment? My children were doomed. I was in a dilemma and I was never fond of making dilemma-naide. This was the catalyst to modify our parenting.


Rules kept my precious angels "in line" only as long as those rules could be externally enforced. My concern was what would happen in the uncontrolled environment of the public school system? What would occur when I could no longer sensor every input and govern the output? I sincerely prayed for direction.


After a profound epiphany I realized that children are pre-adults. Each has a unique personality and natural bend. The bible tells me to raise my children in his or her natural bend. This is the way he should go. I also learned to have a relationship with my children. We developed a painfully open dialogue. I worked diligently on my "game face" for the times when they shocked the heck out of me. I learned that rules without relationship will cause rebellion. I began to make sure my kids were aware of the reasoning behind the specific rules. If they didn't understand the rule, or if they had an objection to a rule, I now allowed them the freedom to question. I realized they weren't trying to be "disrespectful".  I view it as preparation for them to negotiate in the "real world". I now applaud my children for thinking about, and not merely parroting back, information.


My goal is to raise children who can think and make decisions from an internal governor who can keep them. That governor is the Holy Spirit who lives inside of them.

 Each family has a different idea of what behavior is deemed disrespectful. Some say children must address adults by "Mam" or "Sir". Yet others, if a child questions an adult he or she is disrespectful. It is no longer safe for children to blindly trust every adult. So what if they don't take their hats off inside the house or say excuse me for each ill-timed burp.  Most of what I did as a parent in the beginning was for myself anyway.  It was to prove to others that I had perfectly behaved children.  This somehow gave me validation and respect from others.  It was these false qualities that were prerequisite for my husband and I be deemed worthy.  I decided that losing the pretense of respect from others was not worth losing my children.  I certainly did not want to perpetuate to my children the unatable guidelines that had been imposed on me. 

As a parent, my concern is what is really in my child's heart. He may be saying "Yes Mam" on the outside and playing the respectful role, but really his heart is full of hate and discontent. They quickly learn to be passive aggressive when a parent is a tyrant and not a leader. If I am behind my children pushing and shoving them to go and do where and what I want I am not in a position of leadership. A true leader is like Paul who admonished his followers to follow him as he followed Christ.   

When children are taught to bottle their emotions and feelings under the pretense of respect it mirrors what religion requires of adults. Religion creates adults who never really deal with their emotions and hurts for fear of not being "spiritual' enough. They have been taught all along to 'play nice and don't make waves'.


My kids are free to express themselves without fear of judgment or punishment. They are given the freedom to express their emotions. If they are angry or upset they may speak loudly. I realize this is not directed to me. I would rather know their raw emotion. I don't want to be a parent whose child does something drastic and I never saw it coming!


Each child is unique. When we place them in a cookie cutter and make them all the same, we lose who they really are. This may be why so few of are passionate about anything as adults. As leaders in the church, we incessantly point out faults and failures instead of reminding them who they are in Christ and who Christ is in them.


I am confidant that I am raising children who will have true conviction based on what they know and not what they have been told. There is an internal assurance within me that my precious offspring will be assertive, courageous and informed adults. They will be able to stand firm in their convictions in the midst of adversity and not conform to society's demands.

" NO SWEAT "

One thing I keep in mind now is that difficult things are "NO SWEAT"! This has nothing to do with having a good antiperspirant. It has everything to do with knowing who I truly am.

Twilight, that span of time that occurs as I transition from being soundly asleep and fully awake is often an important time for me. It is the fleeting span of time that that I am both consciously aware of my surroundings but equally aware of the dreams that have played out while I slept. It is often that I feel God speaks to me during these precious moments. It is so short, but He sparks profound thoughts within me.

One of these such times precipitated the following thoughts......

My husband was recently blessed with a fulltime position as Worship Pastor. The church has a new Youth Pastor on staff. Her name is Tifphanie. She is an amazing lady and powerful woman of God. This uniquely gifted woman has the innate ability to DRAG people out of their comfort zones and into the gifting within them. Many times these people come kicking and screaming, but they nonetheless come. I was recently one of the recipients of this wonderful gift of hers.

Tif asked me to say a few words at a youth rally that was being sponsored by the church. I was apprehensive, but willing. I know that I have a tendency to ramble and get of subject. I am much better when I can write and can delete everything that is off subject when I edit. I agreed to speak and what follows was essentially my thought.

During my most recent "Twilight" moment, I woke thinking about a painter and his canvas. It seemed at first to be a random thought, but it was one that I could just not shake. I took the opportunity to research some information about the canvas painters use. I discovered that many are made from linen. I thought about this for several days trying to listen to what the Lord was trying to show me. My first thought was about how we have to be a blank canvas for God to create His masterpiece in us. I was just not satisfied with this vein of thought.

As I pondered more about linen, I was reminded that the Old Testament Priest was clothed in linen. Because linen is a breathable fabric it allowed him to remain cool and prevented him from sweating. The priest could not go into the Holy Place with his body sweating. Sweat is a sign of human work and effort. The Word of God expresses to us that we can't earn our place in God's Kingdom. It is given freely. We are restored to our position in the Kingdom by the blood of Jesus. It is not by our work that we enter into the presence of God. We enter only through the blood of Jesus.

I was then reminded of DNA. Our DNA makes us who we are. It identifies our eye color and every intricate feature of our flesh. I can do nothing to make myself change DNA. I can't work to have blue eyes if my DNA says that I will have green. I may change my hair color, but that does not change that my hair will grow again and remain the hue that God placed within my natural design.

The bible tells us that we are the Body of Christ. He is the head and we are His body. We exemplify Him in this earth. Science tells me that I can take a strand of my hair and skin cells or blood from my body and they will all have the same DNA. This leaves me with the conclusion that the DNA from Christ's head also is present in His body. I am a new creature in Christ. I am dead in Christ but yet I live. I live because I have become His body. I therefore hold His DNA which allows me to do all of the things that the Kingdom of Heaven mandates that I do in this earth. His Kingdom can come to the earth through me because (don't shoot me for daring to say it) I am Him. At least I should be Him. I should embrace all of the DNA that now flows through me and allows me to be Jesus in the earth. I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.

How does this apply to my no sweat thought? I am glad you asked. Since I don't have to think and work for my eye color because of the genetic code in me, I don't have to work or think about the genetic code that is Christ within me that allows me to be all things to all people that I might win one to Christ. All of the things that he has called me to do to fulfill man's Kingdom Mandate on the earth (Gen. 1:26) is already within me. I can't do anything to work for it.

We are called to do certain things in our daily lives to ultimately fulfill man's collective purpose on the earth. We have certain talents and gifting that gives us the opportunity to bring the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth. I have realized that God was showing us in the Old Testament, by symbolism, the same things He clearly states now in the New Testament. We can't work for what He has in store for us. It is freely given and is already placed within us as children of God. All we have to do is allow it to come forth.

The well known saying "Don't Sweat The Small Stuff" comes to mind. As children of God we don't sweat the small stuff. We also don't sweat the big stuff. It is truly "NO SWEAT" !

~ TRULY DESPERATE ~

The Sunday morning routine began. I woke the children, like every other Sunday. Shower, dress, a quick breakfast and then we are off to Sunday school. The two older children, 11 year old Mikayla and 7 year old Joshua, head off to their respective classes as usual. I loosed 3 year old Jeremiah from his car seat harness. He was still my baby! He would always be the baby, for the next five months anyway. The new baby would be due in August. It was mid March in North Carolina and still a bit cool in the mornings. I wrangled Jeremiah in long enough to remove his heavy outer coat and followed my rowdy little guy into the church. I watched as this self-proclaimed super hero entered the narrow staircase that lead to the second floor of our small church. Once he bounded up the steps and reached the second floor landing he enthusiastically departed around the corner and down the hall to the preschoolers classroom that he knew well. Once I was comfortable that my children had made it to their classes I quickly took my seat in the main sanctuary for the adult class. I felt satisfied that at least for now my work was complete. I was actually on time. I could now continue with church as usual. I was unaware that this ordinary day held events that would be etched in my mind and heart forever!

I dutifully began documenting the adult attendance and marking it in the class registry. I never really understood the purpose of taking attendance for Sunday school classes. I secretly wondered if the truancy officers would cart us off if we failed to show on too many occasions. Would they jail us or just pose a hefty fine? This random, albeit noteworthy, thought process was interrupted by movement in my left peripheral vision. As I turned, the Sunday School director quietly entered the room. She attempted to mouth something to me, but I just could not make out what she was trying to say. After several futile attempts at communication between us I asked my wonderful husband to go see what the heck was so important! I continued to take attendance as Scott and the director made their exit from the sanctuary back into the Sunday school area of the building.

I estimate that 5 to 10 minutes had passed and then I saw the same movement in my left peripheral vision as before. This time it was not the Sunday School director, but my husband. He attempted the same ill-fated form of communication as the director. Finally he made his way to my side and quietly whispered in my ear that I needed to follow him because they could not find Jeremiah. As I followed he explained that Jeremiah's teacher had not been able to make it to church that morning and the director went to get the kids from her class to distribute them through the classes that did have teachers. There were only 2 kids in the preschool class so it would be an easy task. Did I mention it was a small church? I immediately headed to the narrow staircase that I had watched my little super hero confidently embark upon just a few minutes before. Scott gently took my arm and informed me that he had already checked the whole church and Jeremiah was no where to be found. I would like to interject here that I was employed at the local county 911 center for many years. I was fully aware of the potential situations involved with a child who was missing. Everyone of these horrible scenarios instantly invaded my thoughts! I was overwhelmed with more fear than any human should ever endure. Panic permeated every fiber of my being. Where could he possibly be! I immediately ran through the church and out the front door. I began SCREAMING his name and intently listening for his voice. I just wanted to hear his voice. Where was he? Did he wonder where I was? Was he scared? Was he hurt or trapped in something? Was he with a stranger?!!! GOD NO !!!!

With complete and utter disregard for what anyone thought I began to check under cars in the parking lot. I did not care if I woke sleeping families or interrupted the church services. I wailed his name and listened for the faintest sounds. I inspected drainage culverts and vehicles. Nothing! Nothing!

The church was situated in the middle of a residential area of the city. It was known as an undesirable area with lots of drugs and illegal activities. It was the perfect place for ministry, but not the perfect place for a missing child! What next! My legs were numb and I was not sure that they were moving at all. The next thing I was aware of was knocking on the doors of the homes near the church. The first door was directly across from the church. It was a mobile home that had been the scene of an overdose death earlier that year. The new tenant was a strange fellow with a very dark demeanor. I violently rapped on the side door, all the while screaming my baby's name. Had there been the faintest promising sound from inside I would have torn the door off the hinges. I was ready to storm in if needed. The man assured me that he had not seen my son. I was watching his face for any sign that he may not be telling the truth. I overtly looked around him into the messy room for any sign! GOD JUST SHOW ME A SIGN WHERE MY BABY IS! I HAVE TO FIND HIM! I AM DESPERATE!!

I had lost all track of time and space. I could not feel my skin. No thought in my mind could be conveyed. My eyes were wild with fearful determination. My face contorted into an unfamiliar shape. I had lost all sense of myself. But I was also unaware of anyone else. My ears could interpret no discernible sound....... Had it only been minutes? It had been forever! My people pleasing nature had given way to raw despair! All of my pride evaporated with the fervor of my need. I was a wild woman on a mission! No law, no rule, no person - would keep me from finding my child!

Time was lost to me. I could hear a faint familiar sound in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but not the one I was seeking. Then I heard it more clearly. Finally, I realized it was my husband calling my name. He called gently at first and then firmly. He held out his loving hand to me, but he was too far away for me to take it. As I looked around I found myself standing on the yellow line of the roadway. It was a precarious location in a curve and at the bottom of a small hill. I began to feel the rain on my skin. My eyes were black holes covered in smeared mascara. My makeup was streaked by rivers of tears. It was now being washed away completely by the rain. My church shoes were covered in red mud I must have obliviously trudged through while inspecting drainage culverts and vehicles in the parking lot. I tried to interpret the words my husband smoothly spoke in my direction. Could it really be true? Had my beautiful child been found safe? I was then aware of another strange sound that saturated the air around me. What was it? I slowly became cognizant of its source. Me! I was still screaming! I initiated the task of gaining control of myself. I tried to process that he was OK. I just wanted to hold him, touch him, hear him. I needed to be in his presence. The void would remain until I was reunited with the precious object of my despair!

In that moment of anguish I was absorbed with my plight. I was utterly immersed in my mission! I would have broken any law necessary to complete the task at hand!

My little super hero had been hiding under a table in his classroom. He must have been in stealth mode because he eluded multiple people who inspected the church to find him. I embraced him tightly and kissed his little face more than he would have liked. The situation was resolved relatively quickly, but the effects have been long-lasting.

I am now many years out from this dramatic event in my life. If I allow myself I can still recall the raw emotions as if it were happening afresh. This was a paradigm of true desperation in the natural realm. The principles that it holds are noteworthy.

Are we desperate for the presence of God? Do we really know what desperate looks like? Better yet, do we care what it looks like? If we still care was it looks like then maybe we are not truly desperate. Raw desperation is reckless abandon. Truly desperate people are oblivious to the rules imposed by religious doctrine and dogmas. They know that "church as usual" just won't get them where they have to be.

King David stripped off all of the garments that identified him as King. He danced fervently before the ark of the covenant. David knew what it was like without God's presence. He had reckless abandon for the office he held and for the rules that society placed on the King. David had no regard for his dignity. He delighted in the return of the presence of God to His people. David did not have concern for the thoughts of others. This included his spouse. His wife was King Saul's daughter. She was well aware of how the King should act. The bible says that she despised David in her heart for his actions. David did what needed to be done because his desire was for the presence of God above everything else.

My prayer is that I am overcome with the void that is in me. I want to have reckless abandon for the rules of religion. I want to be blind to myself and how I appear to others. I want to be totally consumed with the search of Him and His presence until I can see and touch His face. The void will never be filled by anything other than Him!

~ Not Me Monday ~

This is not the first ~ Not Me Monday ~ post that I have actually gotten done on Monday.

I am not totally disgusted with myself right now. I did not just spend months planning the coolest 40th birthday party surprise for my husband, only to find out that I accidentally sent a copy of the e-mail about the party dates and times to his new work e-mail address. I am way too attentive to detail to have done such a careless thing. I am not fighting tears as I sit here looking at all of the cake sketches, invitation lists, and catering information. I am not a complete and total screw-up! Not me!

I am not sitting here trying to deliberate how I can still make this occasion as special as it would have been as a surprise. I have always been able to keep a secret from my husband, NOT! I am not guilty of always doing something to blow the lid off of great ideas like this. My husband and I do not tell each other everything so it is very easy to keep a secret from him in the first place. I absolutely never have the urge to blurt out about party because I knew he would love it! I haven't caught myself several times just before I divulged party details to my husband just because I was so excited about the details and I want him to be excited with me. No Way!

It was not my bright idea to sell my scrap gold and loose stones from old jewelry to pay for the now not so surprise party! I never would have done this as to keep from using money from our account and to keep the party a surprise.

I certainly did not venture to teach my eager 11 year old son to crochet this week. It was a breeze to teach him since he is very left-handed and I am equally right-handed. This has not been an issue most of his life. I had no trouble teaching him to tie his shoe, hold a spoon, or color with a crayon.

This night shift weekend has not been very exhausting. I am not totally ready for a few days off! It is not almost time for me to go home... I am not finished with this post.

~ Happy Hour ~

I am into the last hour of the 2nd night of the 3 day weekend shift. This hour is affectionately termed "Happy Hour". It is indeed a happy hour! Twelve hours seems like eternity when we are in a dark room, surrounded by computer monitors, and waiting (mostly not waiting, mostly trying to keep up) for the citizens to reach for the phone in need of our skills and expertise. The phones start to quiet in the span of time between 0230 and 0530. You may think that it makes the job easier. It does not! We must be at the "top of our game" at all times. It is easy to get tired when we are waiting on the 0630 bell. Ok, there is no bell. I know you get the picture. Oh, but when 0530 comes around there is a rush of hope. We see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it is really the sun rising and not the light at the end of the tunnel at all. ;)

This is where is am right now. I am in the bubble of the "Happy Hour". It really does make me happy!

I will save a few more lives while waiting for the final countdown. All the while I will know that I am in the "Happy Hour" and all is well!

~ Thoughtful Thursday ~ (ok it is Friday, but I am posting this anyway!)

This week I had plenty of good intentions!

I watched my Nanner Puddin & Little Muffin(aka; my granddaughters) so my daughter could go to work. Anyone who knows me is aware that I rarely volunteer to babysit. I feel that I have been a mother for all of my life. I was a very young mother. I still have three boys at home between the ages of 5 & 15 and I work full-time. Any alone time that I acquire is sacred.

My daughter (Pumpkin Pie) is a CNA for a home~health company and has a varied work schedule. She had picked up the care of a new patient this week and needed "spur~of~ the~moment" child care. I have to admit it was great to spend time with the girls. The difference in the relationship dynamic between a parent/child and a grandparent/grandchild is interesting to me. There is a degree of freedom as a grandparent that I have never allowed myself as a parent. There is almost a sense that as a "Nina" I have to spoil them rotten!

Ok, This is not exactly a Thoughtful Thursday post. I do have a few cool things in the works that I will post in the future.

Everyone go over to the Freeman's blog and show them some love. Participate in ~Thoughtful Thursdays~! As one blogger said, "Pray it forward!"

~ Not Me Monday ~

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.



Last week I did not enjoy all of the fluffy white snow that fell here in the Charlotte area. It was not absolutely the perfect end to the mild winter that we have had this year.

I am not an employee at a busy 911 center and did not work the fire console during the last snow and ice storm in our area. I was not rendered exhausted by all of the traffic accidents, trauma, and drama. By midnight I did not have a pounding headache and still had to endure the remaining 6 hours of the shift.

I did not procrastinate going to the grocery store the week prior to the snow storm with intentions to get groceries on Monday. Surely there would not be much snow and it would be business as usual.

I am not guilty of leaving the communications center at 0645 am, after defrosting my minivan, with my hands frozen and a nose like Rudolph. I would never have headed straight for the grocery store with the goal of rushing in to get enough food to supply my three boys and husband who would most assuredly not be famished from playing in the snow and watching tv.

There was not one ounce of irony in the conversation I had with the cashier about the marked number of patients who slip and fall on black ice. I did not stress how important it was that elderly people be extra careful when walking outside as to avoid being stranded in the cold after a fall and then suffer from cold related injuries.

I would never be accused of carefully and deliberately making my way to my vehicle to place my purchased items safely within. The previously mentioned irony did not come into light as I dutifully returned my grocery cart to the designated area with maybe a bit more confidence in my footing than I should have had. I did not lose all of my "cool points" as I found myself flat on my back in the middle of the grocery store parking lot. I was not totally stunned as my not~so~petite frame landed with a thud onto the cold icy pavement. I was not quickly aware of my precarious situation as I was shuddered back to reality by the intense throbbing in my left hand and wrist.

I am not the worst patient ever! I would never just place my injured wrist on ice and "sleep off the pain" in hopes that it would feel better when I woke up. I have not procrastinated going to the doctor for a full week. I most assuredly am not entertaining the idea of finally going to the doctor tomorrow because the pain is not getting too much to deal with.

~Thought of the Day~

"You treat a patient, you win, you lose.
You treat a person, I guarantee you win."

Robin Williams, (Patch Adams the movie 1998)

Precious Brown-Belly Bears

Who knew that a piece of paper with a color coded belly could be so valuable. These brown-bellied bears are a precious rare find in our household.

Rewind to the start of the school year. My youngest son started school this year. The parents were told that each day the children would bring home a color coded bear. If your child's behavior is good then the child would sport a brown-bellied bear. Yellow bears had been warned about behavior throughout the day. You get the picture with the red bears. When the child gets 30 brown belly bears he or she gets to pick a prize from the prize box!

At this point in the school year I could wallpaper the kitchen with red and yellow belly bears. If you read my last "Not Me Monday" post you will have noticed the teacher meeting on Monday. This was the major precursor to that meeting.

Judahbug has had some sort of metamorphosis over the last few weeks. I know that around this time of the year they seem to have things start to click in regard to school work and putting together the pieces of the information puzzle. But his behavior has improved exponentially. He rushes in the house each day after school with this sneaky little grin on his face. In his grasp the deposit of another brown belly bear.

Today, I am proud to say, has marked 6 brown belly school days in a row. This morning we finally have gathered 30 brown belly bears!!!!!!!!!! Judahbug is proudly submitting his brown belly treasures for the opportunity at the prize box. My friends it is a monumental day in this house!

So, know that somewhere in a kindergarten classroom in North Carolina there is a very happy little boy who today will redeem his brown belly currency for a treasure. He will be rushing in the house today with a treasure in one hand and the start of his brown belly bear savings for his next good behavior treasure!

Not Me Monday!

Ok, Today is still my Monday so I am going to do a "Not Me! Monday!" post.

I did not have a 7 am appointment with my youngest son's teacher this morning. While getting out of the car to put on my coat I did not let the door close and lock my purse and keys in the car.... Not Me!

I did not have my husband drive to the school to bring the extra set of keys to unlock the door, only after bruising my forearm while attempting to reach the lock through the gap at the top of the window left because the door didn't completely close. Not Me!

I did not go back home seething with disdain because the teacher made this "imperative" appointment during a phone conversation on Friday because she could only fit me in at 7am today, she showed up 15 min late, and she had forgotten the appointment all-together. I was not upset while I watched her "dig" my son's file from the bottom of a very disorganized pile of various other files. I did not show my disdain while watching her search to remember what was so important that she had me meet her so early on a Monday morning. Not Me!

I did not let my sick boys watch TV all day so I could rest for night shift tonight. Not Me!

I did not get upset when I found out that the person that I had asked to sit with my children this weekend so my husband and I could go see the new Madea movie, had gone to see the movie instead. I would never be that self-centered! Not Me!

Finally, I did not enjoy having my Nanner Puddin' (aka my granddaughter) with me on Saturday and Sunday. I did not absolutely adore every silly thing she said and did. Finally, I did not cherish snuggling up to her and watch her angelic face as she slept

Not Me! I would never have done those things!

Night Shift

Ok .. I am getting ready to go home from a 12 hour night shift. Tonight was relatively uneventful. This is if you think houses burning down, cardiac arrest in a 2 year old, domestic assaults and shootings are uneventful. I work in a busy 911 communications center in North Carolina. It is always organized chaos here. That is what we "adrenaline junkies" need to survive.

Any given night I may talk someone out of suicide, help with a bleeding wound, or give CPR instructions for a loved one calling in desperate need of assistance. That is what I am trained to do. I do it efficiently and with confidence.

We aren't necessarily trained to convey that we really care. Tonight I had a caller tell me that I was "the best". I simply gave her basic trauma instructions for someone who had fallen and received minor scrapes and bruises. I did it with genuine concern for the caller and the patient. My goal is to convey that I do really care to each caller. If I can let them know that at least one person in the system cares, then I have completed my task.

I guess in that regard, my night was a success!

Getting ready to go home to rest. I will be back here in 12 hours for another 12 hours of drama. I guess I wouldn't have it any other way....

"Random"

"Relationship Pollination"

During the last few weeks there have been a staggering number of circumstances that have caused some introspection on my part. As a mother I have had to think about my role and how that role evolves as my children grow up.

My daughter is the oldest of my four children. For sake of anonymity will call her Pumpkin Pie. She has essentially molded the routes I have taken over the last twenty years of my life. I was a very young mother. I struggled for many years trying to prove to the outside world that I was capable of being a good mom. I have relaxed as time has gone by. She has always been a very autonomous individual, but our relationship has remained close.

In September of 2006 Pumpkin Pie gave birth to a daughter of her own, Nanner Puddin'. Pumpkin Pie was also a young mother. I tried to be helpful during her pregnancy. I was there for every doctor appointment and right by her side for Nanner Puddin's arrival.

This week Pumpkin Pie gave birth to her second baby girl, Little Muffin. Pumpkin Pie told me that she and her husband wanted everyone to stay at home until Muffin was born. SHE DID NOT WANT ME THERE WITH HER WHEN SHE GAVE BIRTH! I was devastated! My heart felt as if it were being ripped from my chest. How could she not need, or at least want, me there with her during this monumental event. I am her mother and she NEEDS me! I had been there through stitches, broken bones, heart aches, and the birth of her first child. The only conclusion I could arrive at was that I had failed as a mother. This was her way of telling me that I was no longer worthy and she no longer needed me.

The next few days were very difficult for me. After much introspection and deliberation I came to a conclusion. I had not failed as a mother, on the contrary, I had been a raving success! I had raised and independent woman who is comfortable making decisions. She was able to say no even though she knew it would hurt me. Pumpkin Pie has become a woman!

After my epiphany of enlightenment I had a further revelation. I have recently attended a meeting, the speaker referenced relationships and how we pollinate through them. I further pondered this concept. The bee diligently gathers nectar as he is divinely ordained. This is necessary in the reproductive health of the flower. As he travels from flower to flower he is unaware that he deposits pollen he has acquired from previous flowers he has encountered. This fertilizes each bloom he touches. He is unaware of the grand impact he makes on each plant! The relationship between the bee and the flower may short-lived but the results will last a lifetime.

I have mostly viewed relationships as happenstance. I now see it differently. What I have imparted into Pumpkin Pie, and she into me, must be divinely ordered. I may feel I have failed, when in reality I have been a raving success! I am given a divine order to raise my children in the ways of the Lord. The attributes that I gather from my relationship with Christ transfers to my children.

It is an awesome thing to know that I have been entrusted with the monumental task of being a mother. It is all~the~more amazing to look at my Pumpkin Pie and know that I haven't done half bad!

02/05/09 Getting Started

I am told that if you want to be a writer, then write. It doesn't matter the forum or the content. Just get acquainted with how to convey what needs to be said in an exciting and compelling way. That brings me here. I have lots to say, but I am not sold on how to share all of the "Random Thoughts in my Cluttered Mind".

Knowledge and information are what sustains the essence of all that makes me who I am. Somehow I developed a fervent drive to gain more and more knowledge. I can theorize the catalyst to this, but I will save that for another time.

So the vehicle I should use to convey this diverse conglomerate of information is my immediate dilemma. I am sitting here trying to develop my "style" of writing. What exactly does that mean? My style of verbal communication is much like rabbit holes, random and incomplete. If you happen to run across this blog, please know that this is an experiment in progress.