Archive for the ‘Beth’ Category

The Passing of a Wonderful Dog

My Dear Siestas,

I’ve been needing to tell you something but it paled so dreadfully in comparison to the trials of those around us that I wouldn’t have dared share it when it happened. The mention of it would have been an insult. I’ve been looking for a time when we weren’t as mindful of terrible suffering, but the truth is, we daily become aware of astonishing hurts. Only yesterday someone shared another person’s loss in a blog comment that caused me to bawl my head off and get off my chair and onto the floor. This is embarrassingly minute in comparison. It’s just a Moore family thing but since you’ve been so involved in ongoing Sunny sagas, I feel like I should let you know.

On Wednesday, May 21st, I said good-bye to my beloved, faithful shadow and best friend of many years, Sunny. She was an unimpressive medium-size mixed-breed stray when she took up on my porch a jillion years ago but she has been my constant companion ever since and a source of much company and joy through some very lonely times. To tell you that I miss her is an understatement. It has yet to leave my mind.

Right around the time she got lost, she’d started getting really sick. At first, we thought it was an isolated thing but then she continued to have bouts. She got to where she cried much of the time so we knew she had to be in pain. After three different doctors and finally a referral to a specialty vet, we learned that she had a tumor on her spleen and that her liver was already “mottled,” indicating that disease had already spread to that organ. She was only comfortable when heavily medicated by a pain reliever and, if she was awake, she was nauseated. To let her suffer so was no way to treat such a lively, faithful pet.

I got to be with my girl, holding her gray face in my hands and telling her, through sobs, what a great job she’d done when she died. I still can’t recount it without crying. Keith buried her in my favorite place in my garden, right by my bench and surrounded by beautiful flowers. I can’t imagine ever having another little canine companion that will love me like that one did but, to be sure, one day down the road we’ll get another puppy. And she’ll have a hard act to follow.

I just wanted you to know what happened. You’ve been so sweet to care about all our dog drama. I have lots of perspective and am not even asking for prayer. Please spend that energy on people who are desperate to make it through this day. I’m doing fine, Sweet Sisters. Just a tad sad.

Thank you so much for your wonderful company on this pilgrimage with Christ Jesus. He is IT, isn’t He??

I love you like crazy.
beth

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Only in Texas

Keith just called me into the den to watch a TV clip from the Houston morning news. He’d paused it on the screen so I could really take it in. It seems that an eighteen wheeler carrying “animal entrails” overturned under one of our major freeways. 4000 gallons spilled all over the road causing a considerable traffic jam. Not only am I praying for the truckdriver’s well-being (he does not appear to be in serious condition, praise God), I am praying for him to get a new job. You just never know what kind of load people are carrying.

You’ll be glad to know that we have another post coming quickly so you don’t have to deal with this one for long.

I love you.

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Summer Bible Study Anyone?

Hey, Siestas! Thank you so much for your compassionate and diligent prayers for the Chapman family. It will be the difference between day and night for them. If you keep a prayer journal like I do, let’s write their names intermittently in the blank pages ahead of us so that we’ll have reminders to pray for them off and on for the next year. What seemed like random timing to us when we jotted the reminder to pray will be used by God as perfect timing for them.

OK, Girls, so what’s the plan for V-I-C-T-O-R-Y this summer? A more leisurely pace is terrific for the summer months if you have the kind of job (in or outside the home) where your schedule loosens up. Goodness knows, all of us could a huge let-up on the schedule and the stress. We need a vacation in the worst way. BUT, if you’re like me, 3 months outside the Word is roughly 2½ months inside a pit. I’ve found that if I’m going to live in victory, I’ve got to plan for it. Summer brings a whole new set of demands to many women’s lives so here’s a little encouragement to keep our heads covered with the Word.

If you’ve already got a Bible study planned for the summer, let us know in a comment what it is and where you’re participating…or if you’re just doing it solo. Our blog could offer some fun accountability. If you don’t have a plan, however, I’d like to propose one. This summer I’m going to facilitate an 8-week Siesta summer Bible study on:

No Other Gods by Kelly Minter

I’ve told you before that I consistently do other authors’ Bible studies so that I can receive spontaneous words from God through other teachers. I have no idea how many I’ve done through the years, but for the last month I’ve been doing Kelly’s “No Other Gods.” I’ve gotten a ton out of it and have really enjoyed her writing style. The homework is not long and drawn out like other authors we know (let’s not mention names) and we won’t involve lecture-driven sessions, so it may be just the thing for some of you for summer. Not too much. Not too little. Kelly’s emphasis is on discussion, spending some really meaningful girl time together, and how about sharing some good food? Here’s my vision for how we could implement her study in Siestaville:

*We will launch on Tuesday, June 17th and “meet” EVERY OTHER TUESDAY (July 1st, 15th, 29th, August 12th) until we conclude our eight weeks of homework and accountability on Tuesday, August 12th.

*We will each need to get our own copies of the workbook (not the regular trade book version but the workbook!) “No Other Gods” by Kelly Minter and have it well in your possession by the time we launch. (We aren’t able to get it for you through Living Proof but I wish we could.) Please don’t wait till the last minute to get it or you may not be able to start on time! If you have a LifeWay Christian Store, you should be able to find it on the shelf but the easiest way may be on line through the LifeWay Website. Here’s the link: http://www.lifeway.com/e2/shop/?R=797560

*You can participate solo but since such an important part of Kelly’s purpose through the study is fellowship, try as hard as you can to enlist three or four other women to meet with you in one of your homes every other Tuesday night as scheduled. Five meetings this summer shouldn’t be too overwhelming and we can rotate houses if we like. Make sure that the women you invite to participate know that the evenings will be low on stress and high on much needed fellowship and rich discussion. Kelly calls this approach “The Living Room Series” because of its emphasis on a relaxed and refreshing atmosphere where we can develop some wonderful relationships in Christ. In this superficial culture that surrounds us, where friendship take place through text message (I’m guilty, too!), we have a huge deficit of pure depth in women’s relationships. Let’s make this real. The goal is to have those two weeks of Bible study finished each time you meet (after the launch) but the fellowship will still be worth your while if you couldn’t get all your homework accomplished. Let’s have lots of encouragement without loads of condemnation.

*On each of our meeting days (every other week starting Tuesday, June 17th to Tuesday, August 12th), I will “facilitate” by posting discussion questions or activities I’ve come up with based on our previous two weeks of study. You will then implement them into your gathering. (I will make sure the post is up first thing on those Tuesday mornings in case your meeting times are morning or noon rather than evening.) Your way of checking back in with me will be by telling me something about your gathering afterward in a comment to that same post. It will be left up all day Wednesday for your feedback.

(For those of you not participating, it is important to know that we will not hog the blog all summer with this Bible study activity. It will only require a post or two every other week. We will have plenty of other things going for all our Siestas.)

*Several days before our every-other-Tuesday meetings, we will post a recommended recipe (of our own – probably from Melissa) for a dish to be prepared by one of you and served at that gathering. THOSE OF YOU NOT PARTICIPATING IN THE SUMMER SIESTA STUDY WILL STILL ENJOY HAVING A RECIPE IDEA. Recent posts and comments have been proof to me of that. For those who will participate, one of the really fun elements of Kelly’s series is great food. Talk about Biblical! Much New Testament community took place around the table in a long, leisurely meal. You’ll love the recipes Kelly’s included in the Bible study even if we pitch you some of our own ideas. Inviting all the participants to have a common dish every other Tuesday night will be just another way to fellowship as a large on-line Bible study group. It’s the beauty of the common table.

So, what do you think? I’m really pumped about it! It’s kind of experimental but I think it has great possibilities! Here’s what comes next regarding our summer Bible study: I’m going to give you till Tuesday, June 10th to decide if you want to participate and also see if you can pull together a small group. (Remember, you can do it solo but the goal is for us girls to have some meaningful fellowship and accountability. Try thinking outside the box on participants!) On the 10th I’ll make a post for sign-ups and the only comments that day will be the names and locations and proposed groups of those who will be participating. It will be so much fun to see all the different locales our Siesta Tuesday Summer Bible Study will include. I can’t wait!

Got your own plan for summer Bible study? Then let’s hear it! Let’s plan some victories, Sweet Things. Let’s have our souls refreshed and our minds renewed. God has a word for us this summer. Let’s go get it!
I love you to pieces and I’m so honored to be your servant.
beth

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For the Chapman Family

Dearest Siestas,

The Living Proof Ministries blog will go dark for three days as a representation of silent mourners sitting beside our friends and co-laborers in the Gospel, Steven Curtis and Mary Beth Chapman and their children. We pray that this small effort will serve as a reminder to all who visit here to go face down and intercede for this dear and loving family at this terrible time of loss. We have chosen three days as a symbol of resurrection as we plead with God to comfort them, tend deeply to each one of them, and raise them in the months and years to come from this place of unimaginable grief.

Faithful family of God, our deepest thoughts, love, and prayers are with you and will remain with you for many months to come.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.'” Revelation 21:1-4

Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly.

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Something’s Got Me Thinking

Hey, Girlfriends! It’s Sunday and I’m writing you from an airplane seat on my way home from Boise, Idaho, where God threw a party of His Presence for 5,000 of us gathered there. They were a phenomenal group and, for me, it was love at first sight. My whole team and I really dig serving off the beaten path, so we were very anxious to get there but wondered if we should prepare ourselves for a fairly quiet group. Let me be clear. That is not what we got. I named them Noisy Boise within the first five minutes. They wanted Jesus and were willing to practically jump out of their seats to grab a word out of thin air from Him. Oh, man, I am so grateful to God for allowing me to worship shoulder-to-shoulder with such an incredible group. I will remember them (you, if you were there) for a very long time.

This weekend I did something I almost never do. I stayed over on Saturday night to have a retreat with my LifeWay team. To tell you that I’m crazy about them is a gross understatement. Through the years we’ve become a team in every sense of the word from the guys that do the set-up, sound, lighting…to the computer technicians that do the graphics for praise and worship and the power point for the messages…to the event team that actually puts on the conference and mans (or womans) it…to the entire platform team who walks into a very well prepared-for environment. Everybody does their part and, incidentally, nobody’s part is for sissies. We work our tails off. As I told Noisy Boise, we aren’t very slick but we aren’t minimalists either. We don’t give a group the least we can get away with. We drag our nearly dead bodies out of that auditorium on Saturday afternoon. The members of the team are as different as our roles and, joyously (and even unexpectedly), everybody from the truck drivers to the artists have become family. The down side for me is that the most sanguine of the siblings, yours truly, is one of the very few who lives outside of Nashville. They get to spend a ton of travel time together while I go solo. They often send me texts and cell pics from the airport and it makes me so jealous I can hardly stand it. This time we decided we’d all stay after the event, eat pizza together, play games (Travis hosted a rousing round of Fish Bowl and the card game Pit) and, my personal request, learn to do the Cha-Cha Slide. Play that funky music, white girl. It was hilarious. (And modest. Don’t mess with me here. It was just plain fun.) We had the best time ever! I laughed myself silly and dropped in my hotel bed last night thoroughly exhausted and deliriously happy. Full. God is so good. So fun. I think He had a blast last night. Maybe even laughed out loud.

But now for the primary reason I’m writing to you. Early this morning I realized that I had an all-day plane trip (HOURS!) in front of me with no extra reading material for a poor, exhausted mind. For an obsessive reader like me, that’s not a flight. That’s a train wreck. I’d studied all the way up so I hadn’t thought about the oversight till it was time to go home. Adding to the annoyance was some excellent reading material sitting on my back porch that I’m in the happy middle of right now. (I think I’ve told you before that, at almost all times, I have two books going that are totally separate from my research books: a Christian inspirational book of some kind and a novel. Forgot both.) I resorted to the magazine rack, grabbed three decent looking selections, slapped a fortune on the counter, and headed for the plane. One was Time’s 40 Anniversary Special, another was a Vanity Fair edition that looked more interesting this time than inappropriate and the third was a magazine my personal assistant really loves. It’s kind of a health and fashion thing with an over-40 flair to it. The cover looked pretty hip so I pitched it in the mix with a “What the heck.” Thumbing through it, I happened on an article that was not only well written. It was one of the most thought provoking secular articles I’ve read in a good while. (“More,” May 2008 Issue, p.90)

In the article entitled “My So-Called Genius” author Laura Fraser recounts her remarkable journey from whiz-kid-dom to an adulthood of unmet expectations and fairly ordinary life. Don’t let my crude synopsis keep you from reading the article for yourself because I won’t do it justice. I’d like to recap enough, however, to explain why I found it significant. By the time she was five she’d already been labeled “precocious” and told repeatedly how special she was. The next years did not disappoint. She was brilliant and darling and surpassed her peers impressively, drawing the attention of adults who conveyed to her in a myriad of ways that she was destined for greatness. Then came college where she entered an academic world of peers who, not coincidentally, were told the same thing. By her late forties, she’d accomplished many good things but the expectation of greatness and the sense that she’d never quite achieved it (despite a best seller) haunted her with feelings of failure. All the well-meaning forecasts had done nothing but cast a pall of perfectionism upon her and, as her consultant so aptly pointed out, “Perfectionists always lose.” The consultant confronted her with a very important challenge that I’ll paraphrase: “Must you write a great book? How about writing a good book?” Fraser describes how age and time had become precious gifts and how she’d come to reconcile the unreasonable expectations with her reasonable success. In doing so she really made me think about some things. Here are a few:

How careful we need to be – as parents, teachers, relatives, leaders, or observers – about telling gifted children how great they are going to be. It is a trap and a forecast Fraser claims rarely pans out. She points out the monumental difference between talent and having a clue what to do with it and (again paraphrasing) how genius rarely exempts people from having to work hard just like everybody else who wants to make it. I’m a big believer in encouraging young people and imitating the Apostle Paul with Timothy by telling them that they are extraordinarily gifted. BUT, as we learned this weekend in Boise, every gift is a trust placed in human hands by a holy God and it is up to each individual to develop the integrity, humility, and work-ethic to know what on earth to do with it. A gift never guarantees success. In the long run as well as the routine day-in and day-out, those with the grit to just keep doing the hard thing will often prove more effective. Gift without grit is a dang waste.

How profoundly wise God’s way is. If we’re willing to follow His paradoxical path on the winding roadmap of Scripture, we have the joy of side-stepping this ankle-breaking trap. So will a few children we’re privileged to train. Living just to be great will prove at least empty and at most unbearable. Spending ourselves for something infinitely greater, however, still fans our parched souls with the God-given need to matter, but relieves us of the relentless pain of being the “It” Person at the center of it. To live for the greatness of God IS to live the great life. Oh, I know we’ve heard it before but what if something in us clicked all the sudden? What if we all at once awakened to what a dream-killer perfectionism is? And to how pitifully small and unworthy a goal personal greatness is? We were meant for so much more. Every one of us who embraces the glory of God as our lofty purpose for living will end up doing great things precisely because we end up doing God-things. His holy hand rested on the least act renders the ordinary extraordinary. Far from the least but sadly uncelebrated, spooning soup into the mouth of the weak and bed-bound or manning the church nursery so a tired mom can go to Sunday School are acts of highest worship when offered in the Name of Christ. Though the arrogant and ignorant minimize and miss it, Christ beholds the sight like a breathtaking work of art, tilting His head and squinting His eyes to study each subtle detail. “She has done a beautiful thing to me” (Mark 14:6).

Christ, the very One who called us to abundant, effective life and commanded us to splash in the cool springs of joy while living it, announced the secret to the great life without a hint of contradiction:

Pour it out lavishly, sacrificially for the glory of God and the good of man. Those with presence of mind and semblance of health are called to pour out the drink offering of their lives until the cup is turned completely over and every last drop of energy slips – perhaps unnoticed, uncelebrated – into the vast ocean of earthly need. The last imperceptible drop of your well-lived life will sound like a tidal wave hitting the floor of the Grand Canyon to the hosts of Heaven.

“I’m already great enough for both of us,” Christ says in effect, relieving the willing of their woeful burden. “Just follow Me.” For “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:43-45).

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You might be a redneck

We had a fish fry at my mom and dad’s house last night. I just thought I’d share this heartwarming picture with you ladies.

If you serve your family ice cream with a garden spade because you couldn’t find the ice cream scoop – say it with me now – you might be a redneck! (Note from Beth: The weirdest part of this is that Keith wasn’t even trying to be funny. He was simply being practical. I saw his handiwork on the counter, motioned for AJ to look as fast as she could and she just happened to have her camera. I’m not sure he ever knew what the big deal was. Welcome to my home.)

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Happy Mother’s Day!

Hey, Dear Ones! I’ve been meaning to hop on the blog all weekend long to say Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms but I’ve been so busy being one, I haven’t had a solitary second! Melissa flew in on Wednesday and worked at LPM the rest of the week so she could be here for Mom’s Day. She’d missed her coworkers so much and they’d missed her, too. She also needed to hang pictures in her office and put her own personal touches on it. She’s got taste none of us around there can really emulate. An interior design major turned Bible exegete creates a curious mix. Amanda worked in the office several days this week while Lis was here so it was a particularly wonderful atmosphere around the ministry for me. Colin flew in, then, late Thursday night and hadn’t been home since they’d moved to Atlanta. He is so darling. We all enjoyed having him like crazy.

Since Melissa and Colin had to leave pretty early today, we had our Mother’s Day celebration yesterday. Curtis graciously babysat our little guy while Amanda, Melissa and I did our Mother-Daughter thing at the greatest mall in Texas: The Houston Galleria. We were there when it opened. My idea of a good time is to give my girls a tad of shopping money and tell them they only have that one spree to spend it. The offer ends in four hours. With great glee, then, I watch them go into a frenzy to try to spend it. They balked at first because it was Mother’s Day but 1) they’d already spent plenty on me and 2) that’s what I wanted for my gift anyway. As young adult daughters often are, both of them are on a tighter budget than me so it’s such a blast to watch them get something they wouldn’t afford for themselves. We all three tried on one thing after another in three consecutive dressing rooms and sometimes Lis and I just shared one so we could see each other’s outfits. (Amanda’s more modest than we are but we always try to peek at her to make her mad.) We laughed like crazy and talked about everybody we had anything nice to say about and tried to bite our tongues over anyone we didn’t. Sometimes more successfully than others. JK. We behave pretty well. As long as nobody’s been ugly to one of my girls at which point I can seem suddenly overtaken by invisible powers and principalities.

We ate at Kona Grill there at the Galleria for lunch and it was really good. The hostess at the restaurant was a sister in Christ we’d never met and we really hugged. She was just adorable. Tiny little thing. Me and both girls all had on heels so we looked like the Jolly Green Giant’s twin sister and two daughters. We’d have loved for her to have sat down with us but I think she thought she might have needed a high chair. We piled our shopping bags in the booth, sat down with joyful sighs and ordered Sushi for appetizers. AJ’s liked it for a while but I’m just beginning to develop a taste for it. My buddy and one of my God-daughters, Amy Hodge, has been teaching me to eat it and even with chopsticks. I let her order for me because she knows some safe stuff I like. If I’m not with her I just order California Rolls unless they have deep-fried sushi on the menu because I know I like that. Whatever kind I get, I drown the first one in soy sauce and enough wasabi to make me cry then as soon as the waiter gives me CPR, I eat another one. Really fun. Melissa was so proud of me for trying something new. She said, “Right about now, Mom, I’m picturing you on the Texas Cyclone (the terrifying, rickety roller coaster at the old Texas icon, Astroworld), with your hands straight up in the air, practically free falling down the steepest part, screaming happily like me and Dad instead of riding The Serpent with all the five year olds.” I looked at her dryly and said, “It’s just Sushi. I’m not even sure I like it.” I hate roller coasters. I liked the Serpent. The one at Astroworld anyway. Not the one in the Garden. Nor the one in my business. After loading up the car and making one last stop at Anthropologie (and me griping about the price-tags), we headed home because we had lots of preparation to do.

The girls and I threw a Mexican Fiesta at my house for Mother’s Day Eve with Keith’s parents, our dear forever friends, Johnnie and David Haines (we raised our kids together), both sons-in-law and, of course, the Master of Ceremonies, the Little Mister. We ordered fajitas from a really terrific place by Curtis and Amanda’s then made all the fixings around it. Melissa made the best queso from scratch that you have ever tasted in your life. I’ve never seen so many things go into queso. Whatever happened to Velveeta and Rotel, for crying out loud?? She also made guacamole from scratch with an equal number of ingredients. I never saw so much chopping in my life. I just cleaned up behind her. Didn’t know what else to do. Amanda made a sopapilla cheese cake that was honestly one of the best desserts I’ve ever tasted. She left it at my house last night late and, after I ate nearly half of it, explained that she didn’t take it home because “you would not believe all the fat that went into that thing!” She said, “I knew I didn’t want it at my house!” Thank you, Amanda.

We had the best time, laughing and talking, and playing with Mr. Center of Attention. Lis and Colin had gotten him a ton of toys. One of them was a big bubble maker. By the time the evening was over, we all needed a “Slippery When Wet” sign hung around our necks. We were all suds but no duds. (I’m proofreading this now and realizing that I might need to explain that by “duds” I don’t mean clothes. I mean party poopers.) Everybody got into the action. It was only about 95 degrees in the shade. Houston is just perfect for eating outside if you can avoid encephalitis from twenty-five mosquito bites per leg. It was a terrific evening. Really.

I love the fact that our blog is for anybody who will give us the privilege to serve her, whether single, married, divorced, or widowed. I try not to overdo the wife and mother thing because our single siestas bring something so important to this mix but on this day everybody understands. So with your permission, I just want to say that I love being a mother. I’ve never had a harder job but I have never done anything in the human realm that gave me more sustained joy. My parenting days won’t be over until my days are completely over but here are a few things I’ve learned along the way – and many of them from making mistakes and getting to try again:

*Kids are pretty danged resilient. Ours survived some rough times but knew their struggling parents – fighting so hard for wholeness – loved them like crazy (and sometimes just loved them crazy) and were steadily trying to get healthier and healthier. When Keith and I each came to conclusions that we were messed up enough to mess them up, we went to counseling. The girls knew it and respected it.

*They don’t expect their parents to be perfect but they sure as heck expect them to be real. They despise hypocrisy and disrespect what is disrespectful even if they’re too scared to say so. They respond well to genuine apologies and, in fact, don’t learn to extend them otherwise.

*They need lots and lots of hugs and kisses even if they act like they don’t. They need to be told “I love you so much” over and over even if they don’t seem to be listening. They are. Don’t just give in to a sullen child and become sullen with him/her. Some kids have everything to lose if you let them win. Keep fighting for a relationship and try to take interest in their interests and sooner or later, they’ll cave in and smile. I respect few parents on earth more than Dr. James McDonald (pastor of Harvest Bible Chapel in the Chicago area) and his wife, Kathy. When one of his kids became a teenager, he felt an unfamiliar distance grow between them. He became so worried when it persisted that he told his church he was going to need to take some time off and wasn’t sure how long. With Kathy’s blessing, he told the teenager to pack a bag and get in the car with him. He drove out of the driveway, and took off on a road trip, explaining to the child that they’d return when their relationship was mended. Needless to say, after some very awkward hours, they ended up talking, crying, laughing, and making memories that they’ll have for a lifetime. Now, that’s some fine parenting.

*They need to laugh a ton with their parents and be silly. There need to be lots of private jokes that only family understands. When both girls married, those were the things they recalled to their daddy and me most.

*They need to know that God is not just the Boss. He’s the biggest blast in all of life. They love to learn the wonders of God in creation. Things like how He made a bumble bee to fly even though it’s aerodynamically impossible and how animals exist in Africa and Asia that we’ve never even seen in a zoo. They long to be taught simple pleasures that cost nothing more than a moment of time away from the TV, computer or cell phone – like marveling at a sunset or applauding God over a sunrise and clipping roses from a bush and putting them in a vase. Or watching roly-polies. Digging up earthworms. Fishing for a perch. Beholding a lady bug on a tree trunk. That all of these things are wonders of God and that He’s worth jumping up and down over.

*They need to know the beauty of Christ when they’ve done something wrong and feel guilty. They need to know that they have a destiny; that Christ planned their lives for this exact time in history and has given them gifts to discover and develop as they grow up. That they are important because He’s so important. That nothing so bad can happen to them that He can’t use for good. That Mommy and Daddy can’t make them Christians. They have to accept His free gift of grace and invite Him into their hearts. That we think nothing is worthier of celebration than that and we’ll risk throwing out backs out to do cartwheels when they let Christ do something wonderful in their lives.

*They need their parents to follow through. To say “no” when “no” needs to be said. They need their parents to be parents at the risk of being very unpopular. They need parents to intervene in an unhealthy relationship with the opposite sex. They need not to be given so many material things (even if we can afford it) that they grow into discontented, narcissistic adults. Nothing is less pleasant than a thirty year-old brat.

*And when they become parents, they don’t need their parents to turn their noses up at them and act all pious like they never lost patience with their kids. They know better anyway. They don’t need parents to forget how hard having preschoolers was and tell them, “These are the best years of your life!” No, these are the most exhausting years of your life. Wonderful! But exhausting! They need us to maybe chip in and pay for them to get their houses cleaned from top to bottom every now and then rather acting like we wish they were better housekeepers.

*Their friendships with their siblings need to be high priority. This one I blew so I share it with you as a regret. I regret allowing them to bring friends along so often on family outings. Yes, they begged but I wish I’d more often said “no.” Yes, they’d have pouted. But they also would have gotten over it and turned to each other. We always had their friends around and I think it may have kept my girls from making good friends of each other for a very long time. Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying. I think it’s also really weird when parents severely restrict the home to family and don’t encourage their kids to make friends and get involved at school. Me? I think they’re hiding something. There’s something really freaky and cultish about sequestered homes. (NOT in your wildest dreams talking about home-schoolers! I’m talking about homes where virtually no one but the family members who live there are allowed. I think that’s weird but what do I know??) At the very least, kids don’t end up developing social skills and, instead, become really bizarre adults that can’t get a normal job. Sorry. My point is, I think there should be a pretty steady dose of activity just for family so kids have to play with each other instead of ganging up on each other with their peers. I believe in having a revolving door to my children’s friends and having tons of spend-overs but I am convinced that I allowed it so often that my kids made better friends than each other. Our best memories are from family vacations where Amanda and Melissa were all they had. Joyfully, they are best of friends today but it’s because, when they moved to different cities, they learned that nobody is like your sister. Take it from me. I have one sister that I never lay eyes on. Don’t even know for certain where she is. Doesn’t sober up enough to have a conversation. Let alone a relationship. I miss her so much. We were inseparable growing up. You feel incomplete when you’re out of sorts with a sibling. They’re too much a part of who you are. No one should be a better friend than your sister.

*God gives lots of grace to parents. Good thing, huh? Let me offer you some encouragement based not only on my experience but that of many other people I’ve known. If you give a rip and try a flip, this whole parenting thing often turns out so much better than you thought it would. Sometimes you can’t even believe that’s you your kids are talking about. You realize they forgot some things. And now you need to, too. Praise You, Lord, for parenting mercies.

Amanda and Melissa, you are the greatest daughters God ever could have given me. So witty. So funny. So loving. You make me think. You make me laugh my head off. You make me spend. And you make me pray. Boy, do you make me pray. Amanda, Happy Mother’s Day yourself. Oh, my word, you are a fabulous mom. Melissa, Amanda and I can only imagine the fun mom you will be one day. What a blessed child that will be. Never a dull moment.

Oh, wow, Siestas. I went on longer than I meant to. So, instead of closing, I’ll go on a minute longer. I thought if you wouldn’t mind humoring me, Mother’s Day might be a sweet day to share a poem God gave me many years ago when I was sitting in a hotel room in a city where I was speaking. It was a rare occasion when I left on a Thursday instead of a Friday and I was miserable thinking about how my children would have to get ready for school without me. I was so homesick I could hardly stand it. I’ve read it here and there along the way so you may have heard it before but it’s dear to me, especially today, so handle it. It’s the only poem I ever memorized. No, it’s not a sacred one…unless you think parenting is sacred. And I do.

It happened just exactly like this:

I called to check on home last night
To see if all was going right
My man assured me all was well
And it was true…I could tell.

I felt so far away from home
So by myself, so all alone
No noise here, no bouncing balls
No fussing kids, no endless calls.

I asked if everything was set
I didn’t want him to forget
To take care of the “mother things”
To hang their shirts and crease their jeans.

He said, “Your oldest set her clock
She’ll get us up right on the dot
Don’t worry now, they’ll get to school
We love you much, we’ll see you soon!”

The phone went dead. I wasn’t through…
I barely said, “I love you, too.”
I sat and stared down at the floor
“She’s never set her clock before.”

She’s just a kid, not old enough
To wake without a mother’s touch
What chance is there at school they’ll say,
“You’re one great kid! You’re loved today!”

Kids need to hear those words first thing
Before a careless clock can ring
And furthermore, they like, I frowned,
Hot cocoa when they first come down!

“Dads,” I thought, and fell in bed
Then after while to myself said,
“He’s probably right, give them a break
She is fifteen, for heaven’s sake.”

“Fifteen,” I sighed, “Where has it gone?
Since that first day before the dawn
When she and I told secrets dear
And her first bath was in my tears?”

I’d held her close with just one arm
Reached for the phone to call my mom
“Oh, Mom,” I sobbed, “I love her so!”
She cried as well and said, “I know.”

The years are mean…they rush on by
The kite string slips into the sky
She’s nearly grown, yes, plenty old
To wake up when the clock says so.

I felt so sudden like a fool
It won’t take Mom to get to school
How silly…they will all be fine
Just go to sleep and rest your mind!

I tried to let the dawn go by
Without a call to check and pry
To see how everyone had fared
Got your lunch? Homework prepared?

I finally grabbed the phone and dialed
It seemed to ring a country mile
My heart sunk swift…they must be gone
Dad’s out the door…dog’s on the lawn.

I started to hang up the phone
Until I heard a voice on
The other end as up he leapt
“For heaven’s sake, we’ve overslept!”

Suddenly the house lit up
He threw the phone, said, “Kids, get up!”
I heard each voice at a time
They were mad, but they were mine!

I cheered them on from miles away
I heard them readied for their day
And just before they slammed the door
She yelled, “Thanks, Mom!”

That’s what I’m for.

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A Few of My Favorite Things

Hey, You Darling Siestas! I am beside myself with joy over all of you who will be able to join us for what I hope will be the First Annual Siesta Fiesta and I’m so sad to miss all of you who won’t. Every single one of you is dear to us. We’ll make sure you who are attending have all the information you need regarding pertinent events. At the same time, we won’t let the blog become all about that until then. We have some fun blog themes planned for the summer that will include all of us.

Just thought I’d share with you a bit before I leave work today. I’ve had a very busy week and weekend and my poor blonde brain has had it for today. I thought I’d set aside the research and just spend this last little while chatting with my very favorite blog-folks over a few of my favorite things that happened over the last week:

1. National Day of Prayer in D.C. was incredible. So profound. What could be more important than praying for our nation? My task was to shadow Dr. Zacharias so that I could learn the ropes. I bet Keith and I don’t have to tell you how meaningful our time was with him and his family. I fell in love with his wife, Margie. I had the unspeakable privilege with a number of others to get to attend a reception in the State dining room at the White House. (I drank coffee out of the most beautiful cream colored china cups with gold edges. It tasted extra good somehow). I also got to be part of a group that gathered there in a press room to hear the President give a very warm, endearing address about God and the vitality of prayer. We may or may not have the opportunity to visit the White House next year as an official part of NDOP because we’ll be under a new administration so I was extra thankful for the joy.

2. After hearing from President Bush, Keith and I jumped in the car with the Zachariases and headed to the Pentagon where Dr. Zacharias spoke at an NDOP chapel service there. This was one of my favorite parts for many reasons, but perhaps most understandably because of my Army heritage. Oh, how Major Dad would have loved that visit! We, then, went to the Cannon Building where the major event took place including messages, incredible music, and powerful intercessory prayer. During the service we sang all the patriotic songs that mean so much to us, not the least of which was the National Anthem. We closed with Lee Greenwood’s “Proud to be An American” and I nearly bawled all the way through it. I’ve got a lump in my throat just thinking about it.

3. Now that I’ve told you some of the serious and profound things, let me rewind to my induction to the NDOP observances and tell you something funny. Keith and I were invited to a private dinner the first night we arrived consisting of about 20 people involved in NDOP. The FIRST THING that happened was the presentation of a gift to me from a darling woman who was attending this dinner. The gift was tucked inside a leopard print gift bag that had pink fur around the edges. Inside were…no, not White House mementos…no, not NDOP leatherbound daytimers (there were no such things)…inside the decorative bag were HAIR PRODUCTS. Yep, shampoo and what was famed to be the best gel in the whole U.S. of A. I’m proud to be an American. (I’ve got to admit, good hair products could be something to put your hand over your heart about.) I had two questions immediately overwhelm me: A) Was Dr. Zacharias awarded with a matching set of hair products? I conjectured not. B) Could I trust a woman from the dry, cold North to know how to hold hair in the wet, hot South??? I had the biggest laugh ever. Ellie May had come to D.C. yet again…but this time she was not leaving empty-handed. I wanted to beg Dr. Dobson’s and Dr. Zacharias’ forgiveness for bringing my reputation with me to NDOP but, alas, I believe I got away with the awards under their radar. Could they not tell from my hair though, I ask???

4. After all the observances for NDOP ended, we flew straight to Colorado Springs for the Living Proof Live event. On Friday, several hours before the event, I met a woman who told me about someone she and her group had encountered while checking into their hotel. As the woman checked in their sizable group, she asked why they’d come to town. When they explained, her face became radiant with joy and surprise as she testified of taking one of the Bible studies in prison and receiving Christ Jesus as her personal Savior. I was beside myself. I asked my buddy, Rich, to take me straightaway to the hotel so that I could meet her. She was not working the desk at that exact time but I was able to write her a letter and invite her to come as our guest. She had to work that night but we saw her bright and early Saturday morning for the second and third sessions and we gave her and her friend seats right up front. We hugged like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in way too long. She and I were two captives set free and not one more than the other. I could see her face the entire time I taught and, in doing so, strangely saw my own. I loved her so much. In fact, more than is possible for strangers. I knew it was the love of Jesus using my simple frame as a momentary conduit. As I felt the smallest hint of His love for her, I also got the oddest feeling that He loved me, too. After all, He came for people just like us. All 9,000 of us. None needier than the next. All saved by grace. Freed by grace. Oh, for grace to love Him more!

I cherish all of you so much. Allow me to voice special gratitude and affection to all of you who attended the Living Proof Live event in Colorado Springs. We are so grateful for the privilege to serve you. Let’s you and I give it up so we can live it up! Matthew 16:24-27

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You’re Killing Me

OK, so I just got back from the Kroger where I, under the terrible sway of Christian peer pressure causing a wretched relapse into approval addiction, attempted to get the ingredients (I hate that word) for an impressive (so-easy-anybody-can-do-it!) recipe. I not only want y’all to like me (y’all nearly killed me this week). I want Melissa to like me. And right now she likes cooking. Hence, my trip to the grocery store. Here are just a few of the things that happened to me while I was there:

1. The recipe was, of all things, in a Bible study (is nothing sacred?? The Bible study I’m taking is another story and something I’ll tell you about soon. Now is not the time. I’m too traumatized). SO, rather than copy the recipe on a shopping list (who has time for that?) I had the Bible study propped open in the grocery basket, pushing it around and staring at it all bug-eyed like I was in a nervous trance. A little while later I realized that several people were staring at me (the butcher, for one, watches on Wednesdays) and, as if those people don’t think I’m a big enough freak, they now think I can’t even go to the grocery store without doing Bible study. Deep sigh.

2. I’ve never bought a sun-dried tomato in my life and couldn’t find them for the life of me. I finally called my friend, April, who happens to be friends with the person who wrote the recipe and tried to enlist her able assistance. She produces music videos and was currently wrapping up a shoot with Miley Cyrus, to which I said, “Miley Schmiley! I’m cooking here! Get off your Hillary Duff and help me!” She did. I finally rounded up seven varieties of sun-dried tomatoes and ended up so confused that I bought all of them just in case.

3. I got so nervous and undone that I began perspiring and inexplicably felt compelled to do that thing the woman used to do on Saturday Night Live when she’d put her fingers under her arms. (No, I didn’t do it but I wanted to. And, no, I don’t watch it. I only know that scene by hearsay. I have a close relative who will remain unnamed that used to imitate her doing that under-arm thing to make me laugh. Well, every now and again I sometimes watch that “Best of SNL” show during prime time but I hold the remote control in my hand and prepare on an instant’s notice to push mute. I’m sorry. I talk too much when I feel compulsive.)

4. I then got so baffled at my own ignorant self that I started laughing out loud which, added to the Bible study open in my basket, made people nervously stand back and offer me full sway of the pickle aisle. (I was there looking for chopped black olives)

5. I bought my first Romano Cheese of my whole life. I then bought three containers of feta cheese because I didn’t know how much was enough. I then bought two jars of pine nuts because April said they’re easy to burn and I’m easy to burn things. They were a stinking fortune. A pine nut! A PINE NUT!

6. After spending an hour in the grocery store getting things I’ve never gotten in my life (pepper corns, for instance), I sped recklessly though the frozen goods and grabbed a package of Skinny Cows. Clutching them in my arms, I took a cleansing breath, reaching deep within for someone I thought I knew.

7. As if I hadn’t been through enough, an old man then flirted with me in the check-out line. Mind you, I don’t care to be flirted with by anyone but my man but this nearly put me over the edge. He had white hair and his golf shirt was tucked into a pair of sky-high-waisted blue-jean shorts which were accessorized with a leather belt that could have stood to be one notch looser. (Where was his wife when he left the house?) I think he had on dark socks and light tennis shoes but I was scared to confirm my suspicions with a stare. And all the while, he would not quit talking to me. The worst part is that I think he thought we were the same age. And I had flat-ironed my hair, for crying out loud! Where has he been? The experience was so troubling that I’m probably going to have to take something tonight to sleep. I’ve never been more thankful for my man.

8. To top it off, my checker rang me up at a whopping $168.76. Are you kidding me????? I was so upset that I almost left my Bible study in the cart. A startling thought that sent a shock-wave of adrenalin through me because I’ve written some private stuff in those blanks that I’m not ready for the Wednesday-watching butcher to get hold of! A woman’s Bible study is sacred! And there’s enough material in there for a whole season of “All My Children.”

9. By the time I got my groceries into my car, I was almost too exhausted to take my cart to the “Return cart here please” section. Alas, I did roll my weary self over there. After all, I’m a rule keeper.

It was a terrifying trip but then God did the nicest thing in the world to take the bitter edge off. I called Melissa to tell her that I’d gotten all my groceries for a new recipe so she’d be all proud of me and, before I could tell her, she said (brace yourself now because this is really good. The climactic part of this blog entry really), “Hi, Mom!”

“Watcha doing, Baby?” (Small talk before trying to impress her. Telling myself not to be too anxious.)

“I’m studying my Greek.”

I was awash with emotion.

God is better than He has to be.

PS. Making dish now. Wasn’t Al Dente the name of a Christian contemporary artist back in the 80’s?

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Just Back From Nashville

Hey, Siestas! My man and I hopped on a plane yesterday afternoon for Nashville and we’re already back for crying out loud. It was meant to be a quick trip but it flew so fast that I’m not sure I didn’t dream it. Travis, our LPL praise team and I were asked to be part of the Sunday morning worship service for the beginning of this year’s GMA Week (the Gospel music thing that hosts the Dove Awards, etc.) When I got on the plane yesterday, AJ said to me on the phone, “Mom, come back with some blog-able moments. Remember your blog girls while you’re up there. Remember your blog girls!” And I did! I never forgot you! The problem is, I didn’t stay long enough to have something earth-shatteringly exciting happen BESIDES OF COURSE that I did get to serve servants in the merciful Name of Jesus which is a privilege I don’t take lightly. I’m not exactly sure WHO I served because the lights were so dim on the audience and so bright on the stage that I couldn’t see a soul. For all I know, Keith was the only one out there and I’m not sure he didn’t go to Starbucks for a grande Americana with an extra shot while I spoke then haul himself back in there before I finished the last eighteen lines of my final poem (JK. Didn’t really throw a poem on them). I think Travis escaped with him.

Keith and I did get to hang out in the lobby of the Renaissance Hotel and people watch for a few – I do mean a VERY few – minutes. And here are a few people we did not see.

Amy Grant. I’ve always liked her and kinda grown up with her through her music but I fell head over heels in love with her when I got to sit behind her at a Women of Faith conference a few years ago. Not only was she maybe the most humble, approachable person I’ve ever never expected to meet. She also had two very simple barrettes in that long gorgeous hair of hers and they didn’t match. I was endeared forever. But I think she has forgotten that we are BFF.

Nicole C. Mullen (and, as her personal trainer, I really needed to check her progress)

Third Day. That’s because I left on the First Day. I’m so bitter.

Casting Crowns. If we are the Body, where is the LOVE???

Michael W. Smith. I don’t even get to call him Smitty.

Mandisa. She hates me.
Not really.

Kirk Franklin. Don’t get me started. I did, however, hear “Stomp” playing over the speaker in the elevator of the hotel. It was the next best thing to seeing him live. I was coming down from the 20th floor so I got to answer the “GP, are ya with me?” Oh yeah… No one else in the elevator even sang it. I don’t think they’d had much sleep.

Stephen Curtis Chapman. His wife and I are both “Beths”. Does that count for a dang thing?

Most of the artists I did see were like twelve years old but I liked them. I liked them a lot. I wanted to be their friend. I liked their hair. And I wanted them to like me. But I don’t think they did. I think it was my hair. I almost had really cool hair today though. When I got out of bed this morning in the hotel room and stumbled into the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror and, had I gotten a level three Mystic Tan instead of a level two, I would have SWORN I saw Prince. Not A prince. Prince as in the artist formerly known as. My hair looked exactly like his. I thought about just spraying it like that but then again, I didn’t know if Keith wanted to escort Prince to speak at the worship service. I felt a sense of loss when I brushed it out though.

My personal highlight is that I really did get to hang around today after the worship service and hug women’s necks (willing women, that is. I don’t maul anybody unless she has popcorn) and get pictures made and, most of all, boast in the Lord and lay hands on a few and pray. The hardest part of the events being a little larger through this season is not getting to hug a whole passel of women and hear their God-stories and tell them eye to eye how much they mean to me. How dearly Jesus loves them. How He WILL redeem every loss. Every ounce of pain. Every season of sin. If we’ll let Him.

But I sort of get to do that here. All but the hugs. But, then again, sometimes you give a hug and sometimes you write one. Consider one written.

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