You’d better listen.

This morning I sent this 14 year old off to school.

It’s Homecoming here. Last night there was a bonfire, today a pep rally, tonight a football game, tomorrow a dance.

We be busy.

So later, I was replying to some comments here on my blog and I ended up clicking on something that took me way back to some of my first posts. I saw comments from my dad, which made me smile and brought a touch of sadness as well. Clicking here led to clicking there until I came across this post from a few years back that is entitled “Listen.”

I think it’s my favorite blog post of all time.

It’s a voicemail from that sweet 14 year old above when she was a bit younger. A bit more innocent. But still as fun. And crazy. And tender.

You have to listen to this message. It shows her heart.

A beautiful heart.

Here’s the original post from 2010:

My niece called me. She left the sweetest, most precious voicemail.

Before you hear more, I must tell you this.

“Mama” in the message, works in bail bonds. They were at the jail to bail someone out. Thankfully, not a member of the family…….this time.

My niece had been prostrate weeping and wailing for hours because her friend Perla couldn’t come over after she had been planning it for a whole entire week. She was devastated.

And lastly, Jesus is her homeboy.

Click on the link below. You must. It’ll make you smile, I hope.

http://www.divshare.com/flash/playlist?myId=10255644-023

Authors Note: It took me 17 hours, 904 online tutorials, and ten of my own dollars to learn how to post this to my blog. I have yanked every hair from my head and am now forever changed, not to mention bald. So it had better make you smile.

Thanks for listening 🙂

My story: Hearts in Rhythm

Here it is.

My first published story.

My first story, period.

It’s been published as an e-book for Kindle. It only costs $.99 and I completely picked out that juicy cover picture.

Just kidding.

I had no say in anything after I sent in the story, including the steamy cover.

Gauging from the picture, you might guess it’s a mystery. Well, you would be wrong. It’s a romance, but if you know me at all, it is completely PG. Or even G for that matter. No Fifty Shades of Gray here.

I don’t expect you to buy it, but you can if you want.

I didn’t go through the traditional publishing route, it was freelance work, which means even if you do buy it, I’ll never see one red cent from it. I’ve already been paid everything I’m going to be paid. So even when MGM makes a movie out of it and it becomes a blockbuster starring Leonardo DeCaprio, I will still be wearing ratty socks and buying underwear from Walmart.

A girl can dream, right?

I’m working on another project now, and the lady who published Hearts in Rhythm has hired me to write another story, so I’m chalking all this up as practice, diligence, and experience, not wealth or fame.

Anyway friends, thanks to all those who encouraged me, told me I should write a book, and said you loved my blog. You helped me believe in myself.

(Especially my cousin, Jay!)

I must go, I have a deadline to meet. (Doesn’t that sound cool?)

Much love,

Angel

Oh, here’s the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Hearts-In-Rhythm-ebook/dp/B00F25GLRY/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1379082331&sr=8-7&keywords=hearts+in+rhythm

Compassion

At what age did you lose your compassion?

I read this question on the internet the other day, and it has been bouncing around in my brain ever since. My first thought of course was, “I haven’t lost my compassion.” But then I had to call boloney on that one. I asked my husband this question last night after getting little to no sympathy for some aches and pain I was experiencing. His response: “about one year after I married you.”

Alrighty then.

It is no secret by those who know me near and dear that I am a hard hearted person. But I wasn’t always. I tried to remember when I lost my compassion. I remember as a little girl being very torn up when I saw a dead dog or cat in the road. And I remember having to tell myself one day that I was going to have to deal with it, it was just a fact of life. Dogs and cats die on streets every day. I began to avert my eyes when I saw one and go on with life.

Of course I like to think I have some compassion. I have compassion for children, for victims, for the elderly, for the sick.

But loving people is hard for me. I’m not sure why. I wish it were easier. I used to love and I wanted to help others. I was for the underdog, and I even began a graduate program to be a professional counselor. I felt sorry for people. I wanted to help them. But at some point, I got jaded. I learned that not everyone is genuine, that some even use emotions to manipulate and connive. I learned that most people end up in their predicaments because of choices they make, not all, but most. And some people even repeat those choices to dig themselves a deeper and deeper pit. And some then want you to dig them out of the pit they dug for themselves. It’s hard for me to have compassion for that.

Yet, that is what we are called to do.

I saw a couple of men standing at the corner by our Walmart the other day with a cardboard sign. I judged them. Immediately. Two men. Able bodied. Young. Clean-shaven. It’s not likely they had been to war. It’s not likely they were both suffering mental illness.

Get a job instead of a handout.

It’s a tough one. Because I know by the same measure I use, that will be used against me. I know that, and yet, I can’t help it.

*********

A road crew was working outside my bedroom window where I was attempting quite unsuccessfully to put my daughter down for an afternoon nap. I shut the window and turned on the fan to drown out the beeps and grinds of their back hoe/front loader/interrupter of sleep machines. Right at the point of entering Napdom, there was a knock on the door. I decided it was probably one of the road crew informing me that I was about to be blocked in my drive, so I got up and opened the door.

Instead of a man in an orange vest, I was met by a young boy, man rather, of about 23 or 24 years old. He apologized for bothering me and went on to tell me his woes. I’m sure you’ve heard them yourself. I’m stranded, I’m afoot, I’m hungry, I need to get to Abilene, I walked from a town 30 miles away, if I could only get to Roswell, and finally do you have any work for me so I can have some money for food?

His eyes were a vivid blue. He held a large McDonald’s cup in his hand. He had a dip in his mouth, and the way he kept using his tongue to push the dip deeper into his lip told me he was either new at dipping snuff or had a nervous habit. Both the McDonald’s cup and the snuff were good indicators to me that he obviously had some money. Probably more than I.

No, I have no work for you. Good luck and have a good day. I closed the door and watched through the window as he walked off in his baggy dirty blue jeans with the snuff ring in a back pocket. As soon as he was out of ear shot, I used my key fob to lock my car where I had left my purse earlier in the day. Yes, I think the worst of most people.

I walked back to the bedroom where my baby is yelling from the bed, and the question comes to me again.

At what age did you lose your compassion?

And then also, do not forget to entertain strangers for thereby some have entertained angels unaware.

Was this a test? What if my child someday is knocking door to door for money, might I hope someone help her? My conviction got the best of me. So I threw some vienna wienies, half a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a couple bottles of water and some nutrigrain bars in a plastic sack. I threw my baby on my hip. I threw some shoes on my feet and headed out the door. His legs were longer than mine and he’d walked much farther than I expected in amount of time it took for me to gather up the stuff. He’d walked past the road crew, around the corner, and was standing in a neighbor’s drive way when I found him. I handed him the sack of food and wished him well.

He thanked me.

I wanted him to vanish right then and there. To vaporize into thin air. Just to prove that I had passed my test. That yes, he was an angel and I had helped him and had pleased God. But he didn’t. He probably chunked my food in the nearest dumpster on his way down the road. My brand new unopened jar of peanut butter which was a big sacrifice for me.

Did I feel compassion for this man? Not really. I felt guilty for not helping him. I felt convicted that I might be judged and not helped someday I find myself in need. I felt tested. At what age did I lose my compassion?

Hmm…….It was such a long time ago, I don’t remember.

So do we all lose compassion? Do we all become jaded? Does life harden us? Or is it just me?

What about Mother Theresa? Wasn’t she the most compassionate human on earth? Was it forced for her? Was it out of duty? Responsibility? Fear of retribution?

Do you have the answers for me?

At what age did you lose your compassion?

The Clock on the Wall

When I was 25, I had a birthday party. Just a family party. Nothing out of the ordinary, we celebrate birthdays until we die and my mom goes all out. My grannie was there. My dad was there. Neither of which are here anymore. My dad got me several presents. He never really knew how to shop and this could have been the last birthday that he physically bought and wrapped presents. Later it became money, which was appreciated just as much but not as nearly as sentimental.

One of the gifts he gave me was a clock. Just a wall clock, nothing fancy. It has a pendulum and it chimes on the hour. It probably cost him $19.99, maybe even $14.99 from Walmart. We talking 13 years ago. It’s moved with me and always hung in a prominent place in the living room. It takes 4 AA batteries to get it to work. Two for the tick tock part, and two for the chimes. I haven’t had batteries in the chiming part for a long time. I can’t even remember the last time it chimed. I’m sure I didn’t have enough batteries to change out, and only replaced the two for tick tocking.

This past weekend, it stopped. Like most clocks, it slowed down at first, began losing time, then the second hand just stood on the number ten and twitched for a while before it completely shut down. Like a slow death. Like a person dying. First they slow down, then began losing some of their function, and then they just seem to hang on for a long time, like the second hand on the number ten before they’re gone. Just gone.

Today, I dug some AA batteries out of my big gallon jug appropriately labeled “batteries” and took the clock off the wall. I began the simple task, or what I thought would be, of getting a clock to run again. I had to pry the old batteries out with a butter knife, then replace with new ones. Nothing happened. I pried them out again, checking that they were in the right direction, nothing. I dug through my gallon jug for different batteries, replaced them and still….nothing. I wiggled the silver parts that hold the batteries in place, I jiggled different things, nothing was working.

And then I was hit with emotion. Wham! Bam! It took me completely by surprise and waylaid me. My heart started to hurt, tears began to well up. I took a deep breath and did some internal talking trying to make sense of why this was so upsetting to me. It’s just a clock. But on the flip side, it’s not just a clock. It’s a clock that I like, and my dad gave it to me. And that, my friends, put me into a tail spin. My mind began racing, tears flowing, fingers still using a butter knife to place and replace batteries in a clock, trying to find the meaning, the symbolism in all this. One more thing of my dad’s that’s gone? Lost time? Am I losing time? Am I wasting time? What does this mean? Why is this wrecking me right now?

I sat the clock down on the kitchen table and walked off. I had to get a grip. But my steps took me to the living room where I instinctively looked at the wall and saw the bare spot where it hung. I went back to the kitchen. I needed something to eat. Eating would stop the shaking. I popped two pieces of bread in the toaster, but couldn’t leave it alone. I went back into the utility room and pulled the jug of batteries off the shelf. Rummaging through all the triple A’s and the C’s, I found my last two double A batteries. I said a prayer, please God let this work. I need help.

I put the batteries in, and the clock began to tick. It began to tock. Relief swept over me. I looked up and said, Thank you Jesus. Thank you.

I then put two of the batteries that were not working in the chiming part, and it began to chime. I will never allow it not to chime again.

I hung it back on the wall, my wall of favorite things.

The clock from my dad, with the family prayer plaque from our dear friends Brad and Suzanne. The cross was given to me by my sweet friend Mrs. Z. The dog on the bed picture was something I bought for myself from JC Penney. I paid $109 for it when I was in college and it nearly broke me. My dad gave me the cedar chest. My sister and family gave me the old red truck, and I’m going to have one like it someday. The little church was bought with some money from my Aunt Bert after she sold us our house in Texas.

The Hummers

I overheard them talking in the doctor’s office a few weeks ago.

You need to get ready for them.

They’re here.

We saw some at our place yesterday.

Hummingbirds.

So I heeded their advice and went to The Walmarts to buy a couple of feeders. I googled how to make sugar water (4 parts water to 1 part sugar), and I filled my feeders and hung them on the patio.

I doubted they would come. Just because I doubt most good things will come in my life. It’s a huge weakness in my character. But lo and behold, as Emma Kate and I were outside enjoying the day, the dogs, and the chickens, they came. They did! Two of them hummed their way over to the feeders and got a drink.

I was thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. I ran to get my camera and of course, as in the way things happen, they flitted away to the trees. I could still hear them tweeting and buzzing around, but they wouldn’t come to the feeders again.

I waited and waited and waited. Some might find waiting on the hummingbirds tedious and boring, their minds filled with a laundry list of to-do’s that they would rather be doing, but the simplicity of the afternoon overtook me and as I waited on the hummingbirds, I sat in the sun and let it warm me all the way to my insides. There’s something healing about a little sunshine warming the innermost.

I watched my darling daughter play in the animal’s drinking water. We have a waterer for the chickens and a big bowl for the dogs, but they don’t seem to understand the distinction, so the dogs drink after the chickens and the chickens drink after the dogs, and Emma Kate drinks after both. It’s good for the immune system I say.

She got pine needles and dunked them through the water and sucked the moisture off, she splashed, and she laughed. And the laughter from a little child on a sunshiny spring day is music to the ears.

She herded chickens and hugged them from behind and Grace, our heeler dog, herded right along with her. Ever vigilant to protect Emma from chicken danger. Meanwhile, Drew, who’s a couple milkbones short of a full box, chewed on a pink bone and didn’t ever once feel his manhood threatened. Real dogs chew pink bones.

And finally as the day drew to a close, and the sun dipped behind the house, and the shadows grew longer, I got a halfway decent picture of a hummingbird. But my true treasure is the several decent pictures I got of a simple day in the backyard that soothed and healed my soul.

List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could

This is question number 4 on my list of 30 things my kids should know about me.

What 10 things would I tell my 16 year old self. Oh my. I wish I could visit her. Deep down I think she was sweet, but she was flirting much too often with rebellion, sowing wild oats, trying desperately to figure out her place in the world in which she lived and using way too much hairspray.

I would sit her down if I could and somehow I would snap her out of her “I know all” attitude, and the idea that grown ups were dopes and I would tell her a thing or two. 1. Starting off I’d tell her that doing bad things doesn’t make you look cool. That smoking cigarettes, drinking, drugs, going to parties, breaking curfew, sneaking out, and hooking up with boys is not the way to make friends. People don’t think good of you, and if they do, they’re not the people to be hanging around with. Instead, it actually tarnishes you, steals from you, and makes you not like yourself either. The people you are associating with now, you won’t be associating with in 10, 20 years, so stop trying to impress them. Instead find a hobby. Pick up a camera and capture the world and people around you, write a story—you have a beautiful imagination, do a good deed for your grandmother without her having to ask you. That is what is cool.

2. Then I’d let her know that she doesn’t know a thimbleful of what she thinks she does. And the idea of needing to be pretty is from the world, which just so happens to have it all wrong. But that the word of God says beauty fades and charm is deceiving but a woman who fears the Lord, she is to be praised, the Bible also says the fear of the Lord is the beginning of all wisdom. So love the Lord, and gain wisdom for it is not fancy hair, gold jewelry, or fine clothes that should make you beautiful. No, your beauty should come from within you — the beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit that will never be destroyed and is very precious to God. Work on that instead. How awesome would it be instead of having “you’re so pretty, to a gorgeous girl, stay cool” written in your yearbook, what if instead it said, “you have a beautiful spirit, I appreciate your gentle soul”.

3. Along with the world having it all wrong about how we look on the outside, don’t let society pressure you into the status quo. In a couple of years, you’ll be reading the Lifestyle section of the local paper, and you’ll notice that your classmates will all be getting married, or so it will seem. Then they will start families, and you’ll read the birth announcements. You’ll feel jealousy. You’ll feel disappointment. And it doesn’t come from inside you, but only because you think that’s what the world expects from you: to get married and have children. But you are not in a competition with anyone. This isn’t a race to see who can get married and have babies fastest. Go at your own pace. Don’t feel pressure to do what every other girl you’re age is doing. Because, you know what? A lot of those marriages won’t last, and so settle down about that and discover who you are and what you love to do, not who you need to be with.

4. And while you’re out looking for a life mate, stay away from the bad boys. I know you have a tendency to be attracted to them, but it’s merely physical. Remember beauty fades, and charm is deceiving. See those nerdy, geeky guys? The ones you’ve rejected? The ones you think aren’t “cool”? Well, Angel baby they have their heads screwed on straight. Find yourself a Jesus follower too. Someone who will love you and be devoted to you in the way that Jesus loves you. The long hair and tattoos may appeal to you now, but don’t be a fool for the long run. Look past the outward appearance and look to the heart. This will save you much heartbreak.

5. You haven’t been many places away from your hometown and your daddy’s hometown. But know this….there is a great big world out there. Yes, it’s good to be close to family, but go explore the world while you’re young and able. There are people to meet, cultures to experience, food to try, places to see. Go do it. Don’t think you need to be tied down to your hometown. You can rise above your circumstances. You can do all things with Christ.

6. But while you’re out there seeing the world, don’t forget to appreciate the people in your life. Spend time with your parents. This time will pass quickly, and they really are remarkable people you’ll learn someday. Write down your grandmother’s stories. Write down your parents’ stories. Write down your own stories. I know you think you are young and you won’t forget, but you will. Have your picture made with you parents and your grandmothers, your brothers and your sister. Get to know them. They are the ones who love you the most. They are the ones who will help you when you need it. They are who will support you in your dreams. Tell them you love them, and it wouldn’t hurt to tell them thanks as well.

7. Quit mooching and learn to do things for yourself. You know, like your laundry! And make your own bed! Fix your own breakfast, stuff like that. You aren’t a princess and you’re going to need to know how to do that kind of stuff very soon. Quit taking advantage of other’s kindness. Learn how to clean house. Learn how to cook good food. Spend some time in the kitchen, cook for others, make your grandmother’s bed instead of the other way around. Ask people to show you things, learn from them, then you will have confidence in your abilities. Learn from your elders and treat them right. They know much more than you.

8. Right now, Angel, you are young, you are pretty, you are resilient, and flexible, but you won’t always be young forever. It will happen….your body will age. Your knees will hurt, your joints will ache, your hair will gray, you’re going to get a real severe wrinkle right between your eyes from frowning so often. So take care of your body while you still can and smile! You only get one body, and it needs to last. Treat it right. Only put good things into it. Give it rest, but work it hard so it doesn’t grow lazy. Find a balance, strive to be healthy.

9. It’s always good to have a nest egg. Save money. But don’t be greedy. Again, find a balance. No, that’s the world talking. On second thought, be more generous. You’re too stingy as it is. If you see someone in need, help them. You’ll reap what you sow. It’s better to give than receive. You’ll probably never be rich in wealth, but you’ll have what you need. And it’s just money anyway.

10. There will be hard times in your life. At the time, you will think they are terrible times. But you will look back on them years down the road, and they won’t seem so hard anymore. Time passes quickly sister, so do good in the world. Don’t be self-centered. Don’t always think of yourself, how you can get ahead, how situations are going to affect you. It’s hard not to, but truth is, it’s not about you. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Look around, see others, see their hardships, see their pain, love them and I mean really love them…. with actions, not merely words. Put others before yourself. You won’t be a door mat if you do, you’ll be Christ-like and by doing so, you’ll not only bring Glory to God, but you’ll bring others to God through your actions. For these three remain, faith,hope, and love and the greatest of these is love.

It’s a sweet life you live, Angel. You have great rewards ahead of you, just you wait and see. Enjoy it. It’s much too short not to.

A Friend

I’ve never been a good friend maker.

I’m an introvert, and definitely not a social butterfly.

I’ve been called shy, quiet, and aloof. It’s just who I am.

I consider myself nice. I will speak if spoken to, I’ll answer your questions, I’ll smile at your stories, but I’m not usually one to offer my own or go out of my way to strike up a conversation, especially if I don’t know you. I know that probably sounds super weird since I tell all my stuff through this blog, but it’s easier for me to write than to speak. Through writing, I have time to think and I use the backspace button a lot!

I’m not completely friend-less. I have a few dear and true friends in my life. There are people who would bend over backwards if I needed help, and through our move to New Mexico, we have had so many people offer and extend help our way. It is truly remarkable to know my family is cared for by so many.

As we leave “old” friends, my prayer the last few weeks has been for God to help us make new friends. For all of us. Ashlynn, Jason, and Emma will have no problems. But me? It’s not as easy. But God never ceases to amaze me. He is so good. He cares for the little things in our life.

I was thrilled Friday evening when while I was putting sheets on Emma’s crib mattress, my next door neighbor came over to introduce herself, and instantly it seemed I had a new friend. A beautiful, fair-faced, redhead named Summer. Who happens to have a child one year younger than Ashlynn who will be attending the same school. Who happens to have a bloodhound named Daisy. Little do you know, I have always wanted a bloodhound, and when I was much younger, I wouldn’t let my sister name her Golden Retriever Daisy because I was saving that name for my future little girl. I didn’t follow through with that of course, but I’ve always loved the name.

We chatted it up for a few minutes and exchanged numbers. She told me of a play group I might get connected with, where to pick up the mail and the where the school bus stops.

It was a nice visit. I felt at ease. And relieved to have met a new person.

We had to leave the next morning to return to our former town for business, but when we get back I’m going to get some courage and do something big, like walk over there and knock on her door or something!

Change

It seems my life stays in a constant state of adjustment.

Change happens. There’s no stopping it.

Some changes we create, and some changes just happen and we have no choice but to hold on with a white knuckle grip.

Although I’d like to be in charge of the change in my life, sometimes I prefer the latter. That way I can call it God or Fate or Providence or Destiny and in turn I can take no responsibility for the failures or disappointments that may come from it.

We all experience it, and change is not necessarily a bad thing. It’s perceived as such most of the time, but we must ask ourselves: really do we want to always remain the same person– in the same situations –working the same job –living in the same house– doing the same old things?

Yes!! Yes this girl screams! We do! I do! It’s much safer there and it doesn’t hurt.

But life just doesn’t work that way.

Over the past two years I’ve come face to face and heart to heart with

the death of my dad (grief, tears, sadness, longing)
a move to the little trailer house on the prairie (snakes, wind, dust, mice, trains, and yes even Jehovah Witnesses still visit)
pregnancy and the birth of my child (joy, tears, pain, guilt, fear)
job change for my husband (worry)
quitting my job of 12 years to stay home with my baby (dependence, budget, purpose, freedom, happiness)
learning how to be a mother ( sleeplessness, selflessness, worry, guilt, time management, joy, exhaustion)

And now, now, another biggie is heading my way. Another move. But this time to another town. In another state. I haven’t really talked about it because when I talk about it, that makes it real. I don’t talk about it, not because I’m not excited or I don’t want it to happen, but because I’m afraid. I don’t talk about it because doing my ostrich impersonation is much easier than recognizing that it really is happening.

But change–it is a comin’.

Soon and very soon, we will be packing up our cares and woe, tossed in with a little happiness and excitement and heading to a new destination.

My husband’s dream is to live in the mountains. And I guess we aren’t getting any younger. We’ve sold our little place here in the country, chickens too, and as soon as the buyers little ducklings are in a row, we will know when our last night here will be.

So on this eve of Thanksgiving, with my heart and my head filled with so much worry, trepidation, and fear, that it’s hard to find the excitement, I give thanks to God my Father, the Almighty, Who knows every breath I’ll ever take, Who numbers every hair on my head, Who knows my thoughts before I think them, and my blog posts before I type them, Who did not give me a spirit of fear, but of strength and power; I thank Him for his sovereignty and grace, for His love and providence, for His son and my salvation. I thank Him for my daughter and my husband, my family and my friends, my health and my freedom to just pick up and move whenever and wherever we choose. I thank Him for my past and my future, for my hurts and my sorrows, for my joy and my elation, for opportunities granted and doors closed. For all He has done and for all He is going to do.

Dear friends, please hold me and my family in your prayers as we begin again.

5 months

My sweet and precious Emma Kate,

Today you are 5 months old. I’ve known this day was coming, but it just doesn’t seem possible.

I look at you and I can’t believe it. That sweet tiny baby has morphed into a bundle of fun, with a big grin and a bit of a mischievous nature I believe. Your daddy keeps saying you’re turning into a little person. A little person full of personality and curiosity.

We enjoy every minute of you. Even the 3 a.m. ones. Even the “somebody better do something to fix my problem” crying ones. Even the “I think I’ll go to the bathroom since you already have my diaper off” ones.

Your good moments completely outweigh the tougher times. You play with your toys for a really long time. Sometimes you get frustrated when you can’t reach your favorite toy, but you don’t give up easily. You have a determined spirit about you, which I think is a good quality. Later, we’ll likely call it stubbornness, which you’ll come by honestly since both your daddy and I possess it as well.

I quit my job so I can be a stay at home mom with you. I don’t think we’ve been separated since the end of May. We spend our days playing, singing, reading, eating, sleeping, and having some outside time which is your favorite. Some days we go to town to visit or run errands, but not too much, because mama is a homebody.

You love feet, and it doesn’t really matter whose they are. You learned how to get your piggies into your mouth this month and boy how good they must taste! Really, it’s quite an accomplishment considering those fat rolls on your thighs. My goodness, you’re cute! You’re absolutely perfect. At your last check up (when you had to get those mean shots) you weighed in at 14 pounds 10 ounces, 24 3/4 inches long, and your head was 16 inches.

You’ve got some pretty big brains in there, I think. You’re smart Emma Kate. There are things you do, that others may think are a fluke or accidental, but mama doesn’t think so. I swear you know how to play peek a boo. You pull a burp cloth or a small blanket up over your face and wait for us to say “Where’s Emma?” and then you pull it down to see us. You do this again and again. You give mama kisses on the cheek with that wide open mouth and you go in for Eskimo kisses with your Grandy. You know that when you press down on that little green button the wipes will open up and you can try to eat them.

Bath time is a blast. You’ve outgrown those little baby baths so you are a big girl in the tub these days. And boy do you make a splash, literally. You kick those feet like mad and splash water until it hits you in the face and slows you down a bit.

Sleeping is getting better. This month, I’ve tried out a new method I read about on the internet called the E.A.S.Y method. You eat, then you have activity time, and then when I notice you are getting drowsy, I’ll hold you with your binky for just a little while till your eyes are heavy, then I put you in your bed and you go right to sleep. Usually. You like to put a little blanket over your head. I gave you a soft blanket to hold onto, and when I went back to check on you, you were sound asleep with it over your face. Now, that’s just what you do. Going to sleep works just fine, it’s just staying asleep that you don’t care for. But you’re getting better.

You were dedicated to the Lord on June 3rd at Briarwood Church and received your very first little pink Bible and a certificate. All the congregation reached out their hands to you as the pastor prayed God’s protection and guidance over your life. He also made me tell the story of how a man in the church told me you were coming years ago, but I thought he was crazy.

We had your pictures made this month with all your cousins on my side of the family. Your aunt Jolea and your cousins Hannah and Zoie came to visit. It was the first time H & Z had ever seen you, so we gathered up your cousins Harley and Maxx as well and went to daddy’s work to have pictures made. They’re going to make Grandy a nice birthday present in a few days.

We also had your pictures made by yourself.

The doctor said we can start you on some rice cereal if we want, and start trying some other foods. So mommy jumped the gun and gave you a taste of avocado instead! You liked that for a little bit, but not for long. I’ve also given you tastes of strawberry, cantaloupe, and asparagus! Mostly you shuddered and got this awful look on your face. So we’re still waiting on the whole eating thing.

I hope I’m capturing everything I can about your little life honey. You are our little joy. Your daddy and I want to do the best we can for you. There will be times that we fail miserably I know. We’re going to have bad times along with the good on this ride. I want you to have good memories of your childhood with us. I want you to always know you’re loved deeply by us, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, and mostly by Jesus. It’s incomprehensible that He loves you more than I do, but He does. My love for you pales in comparison.

I’m so happy to have you, baby of mine.

XOXO,

Mommy

A Better World

I think I’m officially a mommy blogger, as all my posts of late center around my baby.

But how can you blame me? She has yet to lose that new baby smell as my husband jokingly says.

She is my obsession.
She will always be my obsession.

She is sleeping in my arms as I type, and oh, if only you could smell her! She’s scrubbed clean, dressed for church, and doesn’t smell like sour milk. Who knows if we’ll actually make it to church. It’s so easy to hold her and let the minutes tick past, as if there is nothing more important than this. Is there?

I find myself struggling with that very thing. I must now make a conscious effort to find balance, especially in other relationships. I must give my loved ones some attention too. They’re being neglected I feel.

A mother is a true servant to her children, sacrificing her time, food, showers, make-up, and all kinds of other previously thought important things to meet the needs of her babies. We are called to be servants to everyone, just as Jesus Christ came to be a servant o all. If only I could show love to every human being I encounter as much as I show love to this baby in my arms. After all, isn’t love “action” rather than “feeling”?

I challenge myself to this greater love for others and it is HARD for me. But I desperately need the world to be a better place for this darling girl to grow up in. We CAN make a difference in someone’s life. Let’s all try, okay?

For her.
And all the others.