Outta Control

I'd like to think that I'm far from being a control freak.  I'd like to think that I'm more than willing to allow others to be the star of the show.  And, I'd like to think that I'm not bothered in the least when folks take over my kitchen.  Or my household chores.  Or anything else that belongs to me, and only me.

Contrary to my personal thoughts of self, its been brought to my attention by those closest to me that control might as well be my middle name.  That's right.

Self-realization can be tough to swallow.  *choke*cough*

Realization of self smacked me square in the face when my daughters requested that I relax this Christmas season, and allow them to do all the planning and cooking and cleaning for our annual Bowser Family Christmas.  I thought, 'this is gonna be great.'  Why in the world would I have any problem allowing all the work to be done for me?

Because someone else was doing it.  That's why!

It wasn't easy to sit back with my feet propped up ... not knowing what we were going to eat, not knowing for absolute certain that all the gifts were wrapped and properly placed under the tree, and not knowing what was going on in my kitchen while I sat in the next room pretending to be totally 'chill'.

Relax?  Out of the question.

I'm not exactly certain of the number of times I sent text messages to my daughters offering my advice, or asking if I could help in any way, or even how many times I popped up out of my recliner to simply check on things in my kitchen.  But, I think Shelby was counting.  Perhaps my kitchen appearances were one too many?  Outta control even?

I'll do better next time.  Because in the end, our Christmas celebration was perfect in every way.  Even without my contributions.

It's sometimes heartwarming to think, 'they can't get along without me.'  But on the flip side, it's good to know 'they can.'

Taking this whole control thing a step further, its quite possible that I attempt to manage or control my relationship with Jesus in the same manner.  I'm working on the whole 'not my will, but Thine' thing.

I'm a work in progress.

A Veil So Thin

~ between the here and the hereafter ~

What's it like there?  The hereafter.

If I could only get a glimpse.

I've heard the veil is thin.  Thin enough for some who are teetering between the here and the hereafter to see through.  To go there for a time even, and then share their journey through the veil with those of us who remain right here.

A little spooky.  Even a bit frightening.

I used to disguise myself as fearless.  After all (I told myself and others), I know where I'm going when I leave this world for another.  Permanently.

But when I remove the fearless mask, I am indeed scared.  At least a little.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.

I've carried my fear of the unknown for as long as I can remember.  And as each new year comes and goes, I find myself caught deep in thought about the afterlife.  My own.  And even more so, the afterlives of loved ones who have passed on before me.

What are they doing there?  Do they think of me from time to time?  Do they wish I'd make better choices with my life?  Do they miss me?  I sure miss them.

I'm not-at-all a fan of unknowns.  Oh, I don't mind a good mystery now and then, as long as it can be solved quickly.  You know, like in hours or days.  Certainly not my whole lifetime.

Every time someone close to my heart leaves here to encounter the hereafter, I'm reminded (eventually) that at some point I need to rely on faith and belief.  My faith in God, and my belief that He has prepared a perfect place for me.  And His promise of eternal life for all who accept Him.

I choose to believe that from the very moment I accepted Christ as my Savior, He began the project of constructing a perfect home in Heaven just for me.

And I'm certain that I'll be reunited in the hereafter with loved ones who preceded me from the here to the hereafter.

So that's it then.  What it's like there.  Perfect.

Maybe that's all I need to know, until I pass through that thin veil myself.

Christmas Without Her

This is her 2nd Christmas in Heaven.

Her stocking still hangs on the mantle.  Her photograph still sits on my nightstand.  And her memory still lingers on.

I miss her sweet face, her soft brown hair, and the feel of my cheek against hers.  I miss her smiles and laughter too, but sadly those faded several years before she made Heaven her home.

I believe her Heavenly home is more beautiful, more peaceful and more 'heavenly' than I could even begin to imagine.  I believe she's having the time of her life ~ running, playing, singing, laughing, and smiling as she picks all the prettiest flowers surrounding her home on one of Heaven's gold streets.

It would be selfish of me to wish to take all that away from her.  She is realizing every little girl's dream.

But I miss my Princess, my sweet Granddaughter, Lindsey.

It's her 2nd Christmas in Heaven.

Lindsey's New Home

Lindsey & her Daddy
Soccer Fans

Lindsey passed from this life to the next on July 5, 2015 at 5:31 p.m. - a Sunday evening.  She was just 12 years old.

For the greater part of her short life, she battled a rare terminal illness - Tay Sachs Disease.  Indeed, Lindsey Bowser was a fighter.  The strongest little girl we've ever had the pleasure of loving.

Though we were full aware that the chances of her beating all odds were slim-to-none, still we remained hopeful that in her lifetime a cure might be found.

It still has not been found.

Further, we felt confident we'd well-prepared our hearts and minds for the moment Lindsey's body determined it could no longer sustain her.

We still were not prepared.

Emptiness moved in and has taken permanent residence in our hearts.

That's the 'down-side' of Lindsey's story.

Here's the 'up-side'.

Lindsey lives in Heaven now with Jesus.  I have every confidence that one day Lindsey and I will be sharing stories, hugs, and laughter while walking hand-in-hand down Heaven's streets of gold.

I am Lindsey's paternal grandmother.  At her memorial service, her paternal Great Grandpa and Great Grandma Ghiata, her PaPa Joe (paternal grandfather), and her two paternal aunts - Shelby and Shannon, asked me to share these thoughts for them ...

Lindsey's Daddy's Sister / Aunt Shannon said:  'When someone passes away, most people say "rest in peace."  Lindsey, my wishes for you are to run, jump, play, blow bubbles, laugh, skip, be silly, pet puppies, swim, skip, ride a bike, make friends, and eat ice cream!  Do all the things your earthly body could not allow!  I hope you experience the full freedom, love, peace, and FUN that Heaven offers.  I love you so much and I'm thankful that your pain is forever over.  We shall meet and play again one day sweet niece.  Your Aunt Shannon loves you.'

Lindsey's Daddy's Sister / Aunt Shelby said:  'Sunday evening, my niece Lindsey passed away after a long, hard-fought battle with Tay Sachs Disease.  She was the strongest little girl I have ever known.  I am heartbroken ... For the precious little girl that I loved so much ... For the life that she wasn't given the opportunity to live ... For my brother, whose daughter was the love of his life ... For my mother, a grandmother who loves her children and grandchildren with every ounce of her being.  I am sad.  I am angry.  I am confused.  I am a lot of things.  But as hurt as I am, I cannot help but to feel some joy as well.  Joy because I know where Lindsey is and who she is with.  I know that it's a place that's far beyond anything this world has to offer, and that what she's experiencing is far more amazing than any of us can imagine here on earth.  She has WON the battle.  She is running, jumping, laughing, singing, skipping, playing.  She is FREE.  We will all see you soon Princess Lindz.  Take care of Scrappy for me (Shelby's yorkie who passed away earlier this year.)  Your Aunt 'Shuby' (Lindsey always called her that) loves you.'

Lindsey's PaPa Joe (paternal grandfather) said:  'Lindsey touched many people's lives and brought out a part in each of us that we didn't even know we had.  Her gift to us will last forever and enrich us for the rest of our lives.  She launched a new career path for some.  She taught us to "just do it" even if we didn't think we could.  She taught us to live life day to day, and don't expect tomorrow to be the same.  She taught us to love deeper than ever thought possible.  She taught us to be strong, to cry, to take action, to be patient, brave and compassionate.  Lindsey gave us so much and expected nothing in return.  We love her so much.  My deepest memory with her was taking her to the swing set to play as we walked slowly hand in hand, talking along the way, and her letting me be that special grandpa for a while.  Every time one of my grandchildren calls me 'PaPa Joe', I think of her - because that's the name Lindsey gave me.

I shared some of my own memories as well ...

Lindsey - Some of my own sweet memories are:  When you picked the tops off all the flowers in my front yard - as your gift to me.  Now you can pick the tops off the prettiest flowers ever.  When you hid behind our couch, pulled off your eye patch, and stuck it to the back of the couch.  You thought I'd never notice.  So I pretended I didn't.  I still have your eye patch, even though you'll never need it again.  When you would run down the hall at our home - over and over again - as fast as your legs would carry you.  Now your perfect legs are allowing you to run again ... all over Heaven.  As fast as you want.  Forever.  My favorite memories are your hugs and kisses.  I miss them.  I miss you.  And I love you.  Until we meet again ...

Lindsey's Great Grandpa Ghiata shared these thoughts ...

We grieve for losing Lindsey.  We loved her and love you all, and are sorry we can't be there to share your grief.  We have happy memories of Lindsey.  There is a line from a song that goes, 'Memories are a gift from God, that death cannot destroy.'  God's word tells us, 'I don't want you to be ignorant concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope.  For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.'   - Thessalonians 4: 13-14.  Lindsey is asleep in Jesus.  2nd Corinthians 5: 8  calls it being 'absent from the body and present with the Lord.'  So then, we are confident that Lindsey's body is asleep in Jesus, and her soul is present with the Lord.  God made us body, soul and spirit.  Tay Sachs damaged Lindsey's frail body until the Lord took her soul and spirit to live with Him in Heaven for all eternity.  Revelation 21: 4 says, 'God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more pain - for the former things are passed away.'  This is what we look forward to as God's children.  We will meet again and all be together for all eternity.  This is God's promise to you.  Today, Lindsey has all her faculties, and is totally enjoying - beyond our imagination - the beauty and joy of Heaven.  But most of all, Lindsey is personally present with the Lord who loves her, died for her, and has taken her home.  With Love and Compassion, Great Grandpa and Great Grandma Ghiata

Friends - My hope and prayer is that if you have not yet accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Savior, don't put it off.  Don't wait.  Tomorrow might be too late.  Your tomorrow may never come.

Lovingly,

Lori

Grandma's Cutting Board

My dad's a saver.  He saves everything.  Everything!  He's undeniably sentimental.

Not me.  I save next-to-nothing.  I figure if I haven't used it in six months, I must not really need it. So, I either give it another home (via either a yard sale or a donation) or toss it in the trash.  As far as things go, I'm undeniably unsentimental.

During a trip to Ohio to visit my parents last summer, my dad (the saver) re-introduced me to things he's saved over the years.

Before the trip, I couldn't understand the reasoning behind his saving efforts.  During the trip, the reasoning became clear.

Sweet memories!

Of all the things my dad safely stored away for memory's sake, the one that brought back the sweetest memories for me was my grandmother's old cutting board.

Many of my fondest memories growing up include days spent in Grandma's kitchen on the farm (the same farm my dad grew up on) while she seemingly effortlessly prepared home-made breads, pies, cookies, and entire meals from scratch.  Without written recipes.  She knew them all by heart.

Grandma's heart went into her baking.  Most often, she could be found in her farmhouse kitchen cooking up something delicious for her loved ones.  As clear as day, I can see her in my mind's eye with her cutting board and rolling pin, and apple pies cooling in the window.  She even hand-picked the apples right from the apple trees in her own apple orchard.

I brought Grandma's cutting board back home to North Carolina with me.  Though I'm not at all fond of cooking or baking, I use Grandma's cutting board nearly every day.  So every day I'm reminded of my Grandma's love.

I'm saving her cutting board.  Forever.  Guess I'm sentimental after all.

... I brought home her rolling pin, too.

Psalm 145: 4

One generation commends

your works to another.

They tell of your mighty acts.

An Easter Story

I'm not at all a fan of shopping.  It seems I'm never able to dredge up precisely what I'm seeking.  Regrettably, I leave the stores empty-handed.  This week's dismal shopping treks were no exception.

I'd simply wanted to purchase a few Easter storybooks for my grandkids.  The game plan was an 'in-and-out of the Christian bookstore in a jiffy' sort of plan.  I'd thought my strategy would work like a charm, since Easter is just around the corner.

I thought wrong.

Left empty-handed.  Again!

Oh, there were plenty of Easter storybooks alright.  Cute ones.  Some even hinted at the true meaning of Easter.  But, none told the whole story.  Not one.

Disappointed!

I wanted to share the whole story with my grandkids.  I wanted to share it in storybook form.  In Paul Harvey-like manner, I wanted to tell my grandchildren, 'And now you know the rest of the story.'  

Determined not to let my disappointment get the best of me, and just as determined that this Easter my grandkids' hands and minds will grasp the whole Easter story, I'll create my own Easter storybook for them.  After all, I already know the rest of the story.  It never changes.

The rest of the story?  Jesus didn't have to die.  He chose to die.  He defeated Satan and sin when He died and rose again.  This is why Jesus is the only way to God.  The only way to be assured that we'll go to Heaven to live with Jesus forever after our earthly lives are over, is if we ask Jesus for forgiveness of our sins and accept Him as our Savior.

P.S.  I don't like shopping anyways.  So, it's a win-win.

Hope

There's light at the tunnel's end?

HOPE so.

Believing in HOPE

Didn't ask to go through it.  Never dreamed of going through it.

Too dark.  Too long.  Too exhausting.

Not a hint of light.  Not even a glimmer.  Not yet anyways. 

Still ... refusing to lose HOPE.

Still ... believing in HOPE.

'At least there's HOPE.' 
(said someone dear to my heart, whose heart is HOPEFUL.)

No light yet.  But it's there.
Just haven't reached it yet.  It's coming.

I KNOW so!

HOPE is:

• not a notion, but a confidence
• not a wish, but a promise
• not a guess, but a belief
• not an assumption, but an assurance

I am confident of Jesus' promise that if I believe, I am assured of HOPE.

1 Peter 3:15

'... Always be prepared to give an answer

to everyone who asks you

to give the reason for the hope that you have.'

Romans 8:24 & 25

'... But hope that is seen is no hope at all.

Who hopes for what they already have?

But if we hope for what we do not yet have,

we wait for it patiently.'

Micah 7:7

'As for me, I watch in hope for the Lord.

I wait for God my Savior.

My God will hear me.'

Have You Ever Hugged An Angel?

There's nothing quite like an angel's hug.
My angel's name is Lindsey.

Have you ever hugged an angel?
It was my honor the other day.

There's nothing on earth quite like it.
It takes my breath away.

I hold my angel so tight, so close. 
Its not-at-all easy to let go.

I'm 'Grandma' to an angel.
And oh, how I love her so.

Though I softly whisper, 'I love you.'
I'm fairly certain she cannot hear.

But, I am certain she gets my message.
You see, I feel God's presence near.

Jesus loves his little children.
And He loves my angel very much.

When my angel is wrapped in my arms.
We both feel Jesus' heavenly touch.

Please keep Lindsey, and all of us who love her so much, in your prayers.
Lindsey has Tay Sachs disease.  She's 10 years old.

House Bill 695 - Family, Faith, and Freedom Protection Act 2013

We've got rights!

Constitutional rights.
Conscience rights.
Civil rights.
Freedom rights.
Human rights.
Legal rights.
Moral rights.
Religious rights.

And, our rights are at stake.

Here's a brief summary of what's included in House Bill 695 - The Family, Faith and Freedom Protection Act of 2013:


Speak up for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die.
  Proverbs 31:8

It prohibits the use of foreign law, such as Sharia law, from being applied in family court actions in North Carolina, if such action violates a person’s fundamental constitutional rights.

It expands conscience rights for people employed in the medical field who have moral or religious objections to participating in any procedure that may lead to an abortion.

It prohibits coverage for abortion in health plans offered through health care exchanges under 'ObamaCare.'

It prohibits city and county governments from providing abortion coverage beyond what is provided by the State Health Plan for Teachers and State Employees.

It bars sex-selective abortions – abortions performed simply because of the unborn child’s gender.

It requires that any time a surgical or chemical abortion is performed the doctor must be physically present for the full procedure.

To prevent Gosnell type violations in abortion clinics, the bill mandates that the North Carolina Department of Health and Human Services produce regulations that ensure such clinics are similar to surgical ambulatory centers.

This is an historic moment in North Carolina history.

Contact Governor Pat McCrory.  Ask him to sign HB695 into law.

Protect your rights. 

 

Left Unsaid

 

Speak up for the unborn.  Be their voice.

I've heard it said that some things are better left unsaid.
I'm not entirely convinced.

I mean, if I kept my mouth shut ...

• My family might not fully understand the depth of my love for them.
• My friends might not fully understand how much their friendship means to me.
• And, my neighbors might not fully understand my actions.

I'm quite aware that our mouths carry the potential of causing trouble.  In those instances, troublemakers should give consideration to the closed-mouth option.

Even greater, is my awareness that if we don't use our mouths for good - no good can come from that.

When I think my thoughts are important, I share them.  Verbally.

That being said, I have a thought to share.  I believe its important.  I believe its useful.  And I believe if its left unsaid, innocent people will die. 

Really.

So, I speak up, speak out, and speak with intention.

I 'speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.'

I speak for the unborn.  I am their voice. 

I believe if the unborn children could talk, they'd tell their moms to choose life.  Better said ... they'd beg, plead, and cry out for their lives - to the top of their lungs.

Of that, I am entirely convinced.

Treadmilling

That's what I'm sayin'.

I'm on my gazillionth diet and exercise plan.

A 'gazillion' might be a bit of a stretch, but I'm quite certain it's somewhere in that general vicinity.

Actually, it's more of an exercise plan than a diet plan.  At least at this early stage in the game.

It just seems a little premature to incorporate a diet along with the exercise when Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas cookies are looming just around the corner ... patiently waiting to be devoured by yours truly.

Encouraging its employees to stay fit, the company I work for has a fitness center.  Admirable I suppose since we are, after all, a group of facilities whose purpose is promoting and/or restoring health. 

At this stage in the game, I feel I most appropriately fit in the health restoration category.

Not wanting to blow my personal health restoration plan altogether, I'll wait 'til January - like everyone else and their brother - to focus on the (ugh!) diet part of my overall health program.

For now, fitness is my goal.

The fellow who runs the employees' fitness center decided it'd be a cool idea to organize a fitness contest, duly named the turkey trot since we're approaching Thanksgiving. 

Contestants are required to work out in the fitness center at least 30 minutes, 3 times a week, for the next 8 weeks.  At the end of the 8 weeks, the turkey-trotters' names are put into a pot from which one winner is chosen.  The prize?  A free one-year membership to the gym.

This is week 4.

I haven't lost weight yet. 

I can't honestly say that I have that winning feeling yet.

And I'd be lying through my teeth if I said my participation in the contest is enjoyable.  Nope.  Not even a 'ride in the park.'  Not by a long shot.  But I must say, I do feel I've done this body good at the end of each workout.

On a positive note - I'll be celebrating my 55th birthday in January.  And since I'd like to think I have at least another 30 good years left, I suppose its in my best interest to keep moving ... and not toward the cookie jar.

Gone are the days of eating whatever I want, whenever I want, while doing absolutely nothing in particular - and still fitting into those cute jeans.  Gone!

On the flip side, these days I'm reading while walking on the treadmill and watching television while hula-hooping.

Multi-tasking at its finest?

My elders always told me this day was coming.

All I've gotta say is, this better pay off ... big time.  Or someone's gonna have to relocate that cookie jar.

Out of My Comfort Zone

What just happened? 

Hadn't I already made up my mind?  Hadn't I already decided I was not going to put myself in that place again?  Hadn't I already determined stepping out on a limb was risky business?

No, the limb relationship was not romantic in nature.  Instead, it was a relationship of a much different sort.  My limb and I were to have developed a trusting and genuine friendship.  At least, that's how it was supposed to have played out.

It didn't.

My limb broke.  Hard.  And in pieces.

Then God stepped in.

Apparently, He'd determined my limb needed re-visitation.

And apparently, He was intent on persuading me to realize that the limb-stepping business isn't necessarily as monstrous a risk as I might have supposed.

Despite my determination to avoid limbs, at all costs even, my Lord scooped me right up from where I thought I'd securely cemented my feet, and transplanted me smack dab in the middle of a similar limb.  A limb I was avoiding - like the plague.

Just so you know, He and I had discussed this whole limb-thing many times over the past two months.  I'd already expressed my concern to God that limbs were not for me, and not at all what I'd bargained for.

Oh sure,  I had prayed for His divine intervention.  But honestly, my prayers weren't all that convincing - to myself even.

But oh, what a wonderful thing when God intervened anyway.  Despite my having given up on going out on a limb.

I'm gonna stay out on this limb awhile.  I believe it's a little stronger than the other one.  And, I believe I'm a little stronger because of the limb that broke.

What if this one breaks? 

There are other limbs in the forest.  Lots of 'em.

What an awesome God we serve.

I don't know about tomorrow.

I just live from day to day.

I don't borrow from its sunshine,

For its skies may turn to grey.

I don't worry about the future,

For I know what Jesus said.

And today I'll walk beside Him,

For He knows what lies ahead.

 

Many things about tomorrow

I don't seem to understand.

But I know who holds tomorrow,

And I know who holds my hand.

 

- Lyrics by Ira Stanphill, 1950 -



The Finish Line

It's the goal of all marathon runners, isn't it?  Crossing that finish line.

Whatever it takes!

Taking a step or so further, the truly impassioned marathoner crosses that line with such determination as to leave others running the same race dust-covered.

The runner's distinctive steps? 

They're measureless.  They're limitless.  They're timeless.

• Run with a prize in mind.  - 1 Corinthians 9:24
• Don't hold back.  - 1 Corinthians 9:25-27
• Physical training.  - 1 Timothy 4:8
• Follow the rules.  - 2 Timothy 2:5
• Finish the race.  Have faith.  - 2 Timothy 4:7
• Run with perseverence. - Hebrews 12:1
• Discipline and strengthen yourself. - Hebrews 12:11-13
• Depend on Christ for strength in everything.  - Philippians 4:13
• Place your hope in the Lord to renew your strength. - Isaiah 40:31
• Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown.'  - Revelations 3:11

What type of crowns? 

1. The crown of RIGHTEOUSNESS.  2 Timothy 4:8 - 'Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day - and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for His appearing.'
2. The crown of REJOICING.  1 Thessalonians 2:19 - 'For what is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when He comes?'
3. The crown of LIFE.  James 1:12 - 'Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love Him.'
4. The crown of GLORY.  1 Peter 5:2-4 - 'Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, watching over them - not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.  And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.'
5. The ETERNAL crown.  1 Corinthians 9:25 - 'Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training.  They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.'

What will we do with our crowns?  Lay them at Jesus' feet. - Revelations 4:10

Oswald Chambers said, 'Begin to know Him now, and finish never.'

Well said! 

Don't just start the race.  Don't stop!

What Happens at Grandma's . . .

.

What Happens at Grandma's ... Stays at Grandma's
(unless she posts it in her Blog)

Our twin 3-year-old grandsons - Samuel and Anderson - are spending a 4-day weekend with us - Grandma and Grandpa, a.k.a. 'PaPa Joe'.

Today is day # 2.

We initiated the spoiling-factor on day one ... hour one, to be precise.

Note:  It's an all too-well-known fact that this Grandma does not like to cook.  Nope!  So needless to say, we won't be baking any cookies or letting any pies cool in the window.  Hello! ... I  believe that's what they invented bakeries and grocery stores for. 

Home-made ice cream?  Are you kidding me?  There's a great ice cream shop nearby.

I'm not at all a fan of what I like to call prehistorical methods of spoiling the grandkids. 

Nope!  Thanks to modern-day kitchen-ology (pre-packaged food items), junk food 'spoilification'  (yes, I made that word up) of the grandkids is a breeze. 

Samuel and Anderson have already indulged in their fair share of Snickers ice cream slathered in Hershey's chocolate syrup (twice), chocolate chip cookies (the package label says they're 'just like homemade'), and movie-theatre popcorn (at the movie theatre during hour one of their visit) ... you guessed it ... smothered in butter.  It's all okay - they really do wash it all down with skim milk.  And yes, they eat all their vegetables first.  ... Sometimes.

Hey, I'm Grandma.  That's what we do.

What's in store for the remainder of 'Vacation at Grandma's House'?  More of the same.  Plus, swimming pools, kids' movies, Sunday School, playing in the park, coloring books, storybooks, hide-n-seek, silly songs, silly dances, Tonka trucks, and staying up past bedtime.  

The great thing about Grandparenthood?  Time!  Lots more than ever before.

This is the life!

Proverbs 17:6

'Children's children (grandchildren) are a crown to the aged.'

This Grandma wears 4 crowns:

Lindsey

Audrey

Samuel

Anderson

Teen Pregnancy

They say, 'there's nothing new under the sun.'  Nothing!



Ecclesiastes 1:9
'What has been, will be again.
What has been done, will be done again.
There is nothing new under the sun.'



Not even teen pregnancies, nor the formation of personal opinions, criticisms, and judgements that befall them, or the roller coaster of emotions that accompany them.

If you're at all familiar with my personal voice for the unborn, you're undoubtedly just as well-acquainted with my genuine love for, concern for, and connection to their mothers, especially the teen mothers..

The connection?

• I know where they're coming from.
• I know where they're going.
• I understand their emotions.
• I was one of them. 

. . . excerpt from my book - PREGNANT AT 16 . . .

Though my memory may be dim on a number of things, I have a hundred-watt recollection of the moment that I found out that in just a few months someone ~ a very little someone ~ was going to be depending on me ~ ME ~ for everything.

I was still dependent on my own parents.  How was this going to work?

I remember this one moment in time, as if it occurred only yesterday . . .

My mom had just picked me up from high school.  As she drove what turned out to be the longest drive home ever from school, I noticed that she was suspiciously quiet.  I could tell that she was deep in thought, but I had the distinct feeling that she might share those deep thoughts with me.

She kept looking at me with those distinctively special 'mom eyes.'  You know ~ the mother's eyes that are so intensely loving, yet so intensely concerned at the same time.

I sensed that she must have something terribly important to tell me.  It quickly became obvious to me that, at any moment, whatever was on her mind would be verbally passed along to me.  She had something to say ~ something to tell me ~ but, she just wasn't quite sure where to begin.
I thought, 'Did somebody die?'

As we were driving down the road, having already turned onto the quaint, midwestern street where we lived, my mom (who had taken me some days or weeks earlier to the family doctor for a pregnancy test ~ because moms really do seem to have a kind of sixth sense, especially about their own offspring) decided to just come out and say what I'm sure had been weighing quite heavily on her mind all day so far.

Ever so gently, compassionately, and quietly, but matter-of-factly, she put her precious hand in mine and said, 'Lori, you are pregnant.'

It was at that moment that my hundred-watts of mind juices really started flowing and, in fact went into overload.

My heart sank to my stomach.

My stomach made its way up to my throat.

My once rosy cheeks now lacked of any color at all.

My insuppressible tears flooded my cheeks, drenched my clothes, and sprinkled onto my high school books.

I glanced over at my mom again.

Her 'mom eyes' were bigger-than-life filled with the compassion that only a mom can have for her child.  In my case, a child having a child ~ her baby having a baby.

After swallowing the big lump in my throat (it took several attempts), I quietly asked my mom to 'just drive around the block.'

I wasn't ready to go into the house yet.

I wasn't ready to go on with the rest of the afternoon.

Quite frankly, I wasn't ready for anything. 

And, I sure wasn't ready to be a 'mommy.' 

Not me.

Not at 16.

'Shelbinator' - College Graduate

College graduation?  Wasn't it just Day Care Graduation the other day?

My Mom and Dad were right ... The older I get, the faster the days and years fly.

Shelby, a.k.a. the 'Shelbinator', graduates from Guilford College this coming Saturday morning.  She's the third and last of our children to move into the 'real world' of adulthood.  I'm happy for her.  I'm proud of her.  And, I'm confident she'll succeed in all she sets out to do. 

Yet, 'bittersweetness' lingers at our home this week. 

Where did the years go?

I'm sure it was just yesterday that we were moving Shelby from her bedroom at home to her dorm room at college.  And the day before that, she learned how to drive.  And the day before that, she started kindgergarten.  And the day before that, we welcomed her into this world.

I'm sure I just blinked a few times.

What will tomorrow bring?  Who knows!  I'm choosing to leave all our tomorrow's in God's hands ... He's already there.

Congratulations, Shelby.  We all love you so much.

Matthew 6: 33

'Seek first the Kingdom of God.'

Matthew 6: 34

'Do not worry about tomorrow.'

Empty Nesting

We've had the pleasure of enjoying life in this particular peaceful corner of our world for nearly fourteen years. 

Our home-sweet-home rests in a quaint little town in the heart of North Carolina. 

A place where the skies are 'carolina' blue.

A place where random passers-by smile and wave like you're their best-ever friend.

A place where preachin', teachin', believin' and redeemin' churches sit beautifully on nearly every street corner.  No exaggeration!

And, a place where young and old alike enjoy passing the sunny days on front porch rocking chairs while sippin' nothing-could-be-sweeter southern tea . . . y'all.

Now that Spring has sprung, and Summer is just 'round the bend, there's right much more smilin', wavin', rockin', and sweet tea sippin' goin' on 'round these parts.

My personal favorite?  None of the above.

Personally, I get the biggest kick out of all the bird nests that in an eye's blink appear on and around our front porch while I contentedly take part in all the smilin', wavin', rockin' and sippin' going on in our little neck of the woods.

You might even catch me carrying a tune in my bucket while Joe - my husband of thirty-four years strums a guitar tune in his rocking chair, positioned close to my own.

I know what you're thinking.  Sounds a little too Mayberry-like, and Andy and Opie-like.  True, nonetheless.  And I love every cotton-pickin', guitar-pickin', chair-rockin' minute of it.

Back to the bird nest part of this story . . . I'm not at all annoyed that momma birds find great pleasure in building their perfect little nests smack dab in the middle of my hanging flower baskets.  Not in the least.

If I were a momma bird, it's guaranteed I'd prefer a home-site such as this for my own offspring.

In what seems like no time at all, these adorable joy-bundles spread their wings and take flight in an all-out attempt to discover the excitement of the world on their own, make their own decisions, and eventually build nests of their own.

And though her eyes are ever-watchful, the momma bird lovingly allows them to do so, while her heart swells with pride.  After all, this is what she's spent so much of her time preparing them for.

It's quite apparent she has no desire to have them hanging around the nest 'til they're middle-aged.

And though she's keenly aware that there'll be bumps in the road (or, 'sky' in their case), momma bird exudes an air confidence that her child-rearing days have equipped her offspring to ride life's storms with perseverance, critical thinking, and above all . . . grace.

Joe and I are officially empty nesters now.

To tell the truth, we've actually been empty nesters for the past four years.  Our youngest daughter, Shelby, graduated from high school in 2008.  And in an eye's blink, her freshman year of college came and went.

Fast forward . . . Shelby graduates from college next weekend.  Double major:  Health Sciences and Sports Medicine.  While continuing her education in order to realize her dream of becoming 'Shelby Bowser, Orthopedic Physician's Assistant', she'll be employed as an Emergency Medical Technician, as well as an intern at the office of an Orthopedic Trauma Physician.

My heart?  Yep.  It's feeling a bit heavy at this time.

Could it be that my heart's swollen?

Indeed!  With pride.

I'm proud of Shelby's accomplishments.  She's an intelligent young lady, and her future is bright. 

Like the momma bird who resides on my front porch with her five children, my hopes and dreams for Shelby include only life's best.

I've got to hand it to the momma bird who calls my front porch her home.  Like her nest-building skills, she's got impeccable upbringing skills.

I must admit, I've had my share of errors in judgement over the years raising my own three children.  I'm guessing most parents feel that way.  The learning curves of life, I suppose.

Even so, my heart's swollen pride persists.  Likely, due to the admiration I have for all three of our children - Dan, Shannon, and Shelby. 

The heart-swelling has even increased considerably since I've become the very proud Grandma of Lindsey, Audrey, Samuel, and Anderson.  9, 4, 3, and 3 years old, respectively.  Two sweet little girls, and two 'all-boy' twin boys.  All of whom I absolutely adore.

My thirty-five years of nest-building and nest-emptying have been some of the best years of my life.

Now, two of our three children (Dan and Shannon) and their spouses have been in the business of nest-building for a number of years. 

Their particular nests aren't mirror images of the nest they grew up in, but they do bear some striking resemblances.

The resemblances are fascinating.  The differences are captivating.

While reminiscing about the good old days at our own 'nest' is fun . . . watching the days and years ahead unfold is even more so.
The empy nest syndrome?  Good grief.  Sounds like an affliction.
I'm not afflicted.  Not in the least.
Rather, I'm comforted by the fine young adults my children have become.
I thank God for my children.

And thank God my children and Grandchildren find pleasure in visiting our 'nest' often.  It does this Gramma's heart good.

Proverbs 17: 6

Children's children are a crown to the aged.

And, parents are the pride of their children.

Some Time ... Sometime

One step at a time.  Moment by precious moment.

They say, 'time flies.' 

Understatement!

Not only does time fly, but it often leaves without warning, and without advising of it's future whereabouts.

I've never been a fan of uncertainty.  For that reason (among others) I resist rendering flight to my personal time.

They also say, 'time is precious.' 

Indeed!

Recognizing time's precious nature, it's worthy of being cherished, respected and cared for accordingly.

How much time do we have?  Not a clue!

Time can be spent, wasted, and even killed.

Sometimes time is on our side.  Sometimes it's not. 

Sometimes time is our friend.  Sometimes it's our enemy.

Time changes things.

It's been said it can heal wounds, too.

Sometimes we have all the time in the world.  Other times, we have no time at all.

Lost time never returns.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

To everything there is a season.  A time to every purpose under Heaven.

A time to be born.  And a time to die.

A time to plant.  And a time to pluck what is planted.

A time to kill.  And a time to heal.

A time to break down.  And a time to build up.

A time to weep.  And a time to laugh.

A time to mourn.  And a time to dance.

A time to cast away stones.  And a time to gather stones.

A time to embrace.  And a time to refrain from embracing.

A time to gain.  And a time to lose.

A time to keep.  And a time to throw away.

A time to tear.  And a time to sew.

A time to keep silence.  And a time to speak.

A time to love.  And a time to hate.

A time of war.  And a time of peace.

• Bad news:  Time flies.
• Good news:  You're the pilot. 

Dreaming

'Be strong and do not give up,
for your work will be rewarded.'
2nd Chronicles 15:7

I love this time of year.  When the hustle and bustle of the holidays are simply sweet memories.  When the quiet darkness of the evening falls early.  And, when new hopes and expectations for the future are dreamed.

With all my heart, I enjoy setting new goals and expecting great things.

Though I'm 54 years old (and unashamed to announce it), I still have what it takes to jump for joy when my goals are reached and my expectations realized.  And pretty high, I might add.

With sweet anticipation, I long for my dreams to come true. 

Some dreams are small, some a bit larger, and even others seem out of reach.  Way out!

Its those out-of-reach dreams though, that drive me to hang tough, hold fast, and leave no stone unturned until the light at the end of my dream-tunnel shines with brilliant intensity.

In my lifetime, I pray that my all-time-favorite dream comes true ... if it takes my entire lifetime.

It's my perpetual dream.  The dream in which the lives of all unborn children are cherished, respected, and valued by all of mankind - you know, the 'born-kind.'  The kind whose mothers were intent on finishing what they started ...

Life.

Psalm 139:13
'For you (God) formed my inward parts;
You (God) covered me in my Mother's womb.
I will praise you (God),
for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You (God),
When I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the Earth.
Your (God's) eyes saw my subsance, being yet unformed.
And in your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were not of them.'


You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.


Madhouse Mall Maniacs

Okay.  After all that hullibaloo about Black Friday being my all-time-favorite shopping day of the year ...

Black Friday more than wore me out.  Too tired to get frazzled.  Shopped from 11:40 p.m. until nearly 9:00 a.m. 

The top-of-our-list department store we plotted to attack had advertised it's doors would open at 3:00 a.m., a.k.a. 'wee-hour.'  Accordingly, we snatched our place in line, very near the store's entrance, at precisely 2:30 a.m.  Hardly the first customers, but we were close.

3:00 a.m. came and went, while the store's doors remained closed.  I have a hunch it was a conspiracy.

3:05 a.m.:  No change.  Except that now we were nose-to-nose with store employees - or, make that nose to pane of glass - the only thing separating us (the ready-to-rumblers) from them (the we'll-let-you-in-when-we-feel-like-its).  No words.  Just stares.  No!  Make that glares.  No words necessary.  Each 'side' knew what the other 'side' was thinking.

3:10 a.m.:  Still no change.  The 'rumblers' were still ready, but the 'when-we-feel-like-its' weren't budging.

3:20 a.m.:  At long last, open doors. 

Like cattle being called, every shop-'til-you-dropper stampeded directly to the boot department. 

That's our take on it, anyway.

My youngest daughter, Shelby (a Senior in college), decided she'd lead the pack of boot-hungry madhouse mall maniacs by incorporating her cross-country running skills to get a step or two ahead of everybody else.

Indeed, she met with success until ...

She made an all-out attempt at a sharp turn right, dropping her cell phone on the freshly waxed floor, causing it to gain tremendous speed on its journey from one end of the store to the other, in two different directions, no less. 

Her phone had split upon impact.

Now, what?  Recover the phone, or beat the crowd?

Shelby's a quick-decision-maker.  Her phone was recovered first.  The crowd-beating followed immediately thereafter, without missing a beat.

Mad-dashing took on an entirely new meaning.

I haven't quite pin-pointed exactly what it is that draws so much of humankind to the boot department at the local shopping mall, especially at this time of year, but they were drawn there alright - by the gazillions - and, we were amongst them.

What were we thinking?

Boot box tops flinging in frisbee-like fashion, while those of the male persuasion were merely passers-by with their deer-in-headlights stares.  Shelby routinely reminded us during our long-awaited shopping extravaganza, 'They should've stayed home.  They're just taking up space.'

After all, is it not a known fact that women (not men) are shoppers-extraordinaire?

As far as savings go, we did in fact save a bundle (or two).  For the most part, we simply purchased items on our lists, successfully avoiding other never-before-offered temptations.

We had a plan.  We were focused.  We didn't waver.  Well ... most of us didn't.  There's one in every crowd, right?

It was worth every bit of the exhaustion my feet (and every other body part) endured.

Loss of sleep?  Eh, what's one night's sleep loss, when compared with making great memories?

I'll never forget the night, and I'll always cherish the fun and non-stop laughter that was shared between myself, my two sweet daughters - Shannon & Shelby - and our good friend, Emily.

Great company.  Great laughs.  Great memories.  Great 'gift' for me.

But, next year I think ...

I'll probably do it all over again.

'Every good and perfect gift is from above,

And comes down from the Father of lights,

With whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.'

James 1:17 (The Bible - New King James version)