Butterflies swam in my heart, stomach, mind… anywhere… everywhere all at once.
I’m sitting in one of the folding seats in the Ocean Center with a baby nursing… I’ve been here, done that before, but never have I been in this venue for the event that is unfolding before me.
A cycle of pictures of young men and women in more childish images showed on the screen that usually displayed my gymnasts’ scores.
My gymnasts are sitting in the row behind me because our group of twelve takes almost two whole rows. They are not in warm-ups cheering teammates, but keeping siblings entertained as they all wait for Christina.
Marching Music!
There they come! Hundreds of young people in black gowns and caps. Christina has a decorated cap with a quote from The Hobbit. Her cap is bright green – and that makes her easy to pick out of the sea of black gowns and caps.
Christina is graduating with her 4-year-degree from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University! Her graduation from high school with her AA degree from St Johns River State was the first college graduation ceremony I’d attended. I look around me at six of my other seven children and my niece. I smile; it definitely won’t be the last!
Everyone is waving and trying to get Christina to see them. Christina’s fiancé was also watching along with some of his family a little higher up in the arena! Kimberly is impressed with this use of the floor that she’s been competing on for three seasons and will be coming to again in 2024.
The keynote speaker starts: Rebeccah’s plane hasn’t yet landed. Louis is monitoring that. The keynote speaker’s last encouragement? “Adapt and overcome” – my Daddy said that all the time. It almost made me feel like he was watching.
A text. Rebeccah’s plane landed. She’s getting a taxi from the airport. It’s a couple of miles. She’d managed to get out of her college classes and work early so she could catch the earliest flight from Pensacola to Daytona. I had prayed she would get to the venue to see Christina walk.
I walked out to change Laud the same time as Louis said Rebeccah was here but not sure how to get in. I walked to meet her; she is very enterprising and self-reliant so had discovered the entry herself.
We took our seats.
Christina’s group of graduates stood. My crew waved and Christina looked up to see Rebeccah here.
We were all present.
Louis, me, Rebeccah, Kimberly, Jaquline, Jillian, Lucas, Theadora, Laud. Grandma Tina. Aunt Becca and Anastasia. Louis had his mom on video phone or something like that. She said she was watching it live-streamed. All of Louis’ and my little Tart clan was here to cheer on our Christina as she graduated.
Our determined, ambitious, perfectionist whose smile lights up rooms. October had been her 20th birthday. My mind flew backward to that box of confetti in plane shapes. She’d been accepted to the only university she wanted to attend: and Louis and I wondered how we would pay for it. Scholarships, grants, loans, and flight training on a few credit cards – she’d worked as much as possible to make it happen. We’d helped some. Christina had made it happen.
Christina walked up to get her diploma. With honors. (My perfectionist was bummed she didn’t make “with highest honors”) She did her little dance move she did at her “high school” graduation. She looked up and beamed at us. I am so proud of her! (And Thea yells “you got this!” – even though it wasn’t a gymnastics meet)
All of us were there. Sure, our baby won’t remember it. He actually slept through the keynote speaker and woke just before Christina walked. Thea and Lucas will remember playing and being bored, respectively. From Anastasia up to Rebeccah though; they know it’s a big deal. They know, with varying degrees of understanding, how much work Christina put into getting to this goal. They watched, with varying degrees of understanding, as she studied, worked, stressed, complained, forced herself to take fun breaks once in a blue moon, prayed, and pushed on.
With Little CousinMom, Graduate, GrandmaWith Littlest SisterOur Graduate!Sister-Cousins
We all celebrated with Christina.
I am so thankful for miraculous appearing of funding at needed times. I am so thankful for my determined young woman who made her goal happen. I will cherish this memory.
Soar high Christina! Remember what your determination and ambition made happen! God opens doors but you have to choose to walk through them! Your graduation didn’t happen “just because” – there were lots of late nights, missed sleep, forcing yourself to go to work when you wanted to sleep in, exams you stressed far too much over, budget cuts to pay for the next simulator, and other challenges you rose to and overcame.
Keep on flying high – you are “forever an eagle” now!
It struck me with a text I sent: I have the littles at gym with me
I had Jillian, Lucas, Thea, and Laud.
Half of our “biggers” are actually adults. That’s a strange place to realize I am at. I paused a moment, glancing at my phone on my work desk. The notice underneath my text went from “sent” to “read” and I smiled. I thanked God for the honor of having so much time with my growing young women. I thanked Him for getting to mother so many of His children. (My heart reminded me that we get them for a short time.)
I don’t want to think about that.
My heart loves that they love to do stuff together. Like when they got a “big girl trip” for their combined birthdays. Such happy faces!
Now we are nearing the end of Rebeccah’s winter break. (I didn’t want to think about that, either.) Soon those giggles across the table at meals, board games, and roblox and minecraft shenanigans, the gamer shouts from the newly re-setup PS1 and Xbox in the playroom, and the kitchen laughter will again be missing our Rebeccah. I am so thankful for her beautiful life! I love the connectivity and humor she brings. I miss her when she’s gone. I thanked God for Rebeccah. I pray she will always choose to talk to me when she needs to. I pray I am keeping our communication open. I pray she chooses wisdom.
Kimberly and Jaquline go back to their respective schedules (as does everyone else) and move forward in their busy study, work, and training lives. Kimberly recently found a friend who encourages her in faith and sports commitment; a very good thing for her at this time. I thanked God for Kimberly. I pray she chooses wisdom as she keeps moving toward her long-term goal of studying sports medicine or physical therapy. She has such a heart for healing (and preventing injury) and an intuitive understanding of how the body works.
Jaquline has recently started to focus her studies on law and debate – her new goal is to be a lawyer. She does have a way of getting people to see merit in her direction. I laugh sometimes at her logic. She has such a wonderful attitude about life and her cheerfulness is catchy. She takes the responsibility of helping raise children so seriously – she assists in the nursery and I often hear her say “my babies.” She has a helpful heart and wants to see everyone treated fairly. I thanked God for Jaquline. I pray she continues to seek God and chooses wisdom in her life’s path.
Christina, our first with a Bachelor’s degree, is stepping forward toward her career. She continues to live with us. I am so thankful that she stays close. I feel honored that she chooses to keep talking with me. I thank God for Christina. I pray she seeks God in all aspects of her life. I pray she chooses to chase her dreams and grab opportunities that arise. I pray she chooses wisdom and can live with no regrets. Christina has a mothering soul. Her determination and ambition have served her well so far!
I love all stages of our family life. Today I’m grateful for being able to watch our little girls grow into vibrant young women. I am thankful I still get to be a part of their lives. I am reminded that just as we can contain multiple emotions at once, our homes can contain multiple stages at once. Thank you, Jesus, for the honor of being a mother.
I do not know why this one picture makes me so happy. Christina took it. I’ve never done months or even year pictures – I tend to choose the favorites sent to me by my kiddos since Christina was 10 & other family who are better at picture taking.
Picture of a Baby
September 19, 2023
I do not know why this one picture makes me so happy. Christina took it. A friend gave us a blanket with months on it for Laud. I’ve never done months or even year pictures – I tend to choose the favorites sent to me by my kiddos since Christina was 10 & other family who are better at picture taking. It is not my forte. (Also, I always forget)
Once Louis gave Becky the “picture phone” (in 2012 that’s all it really did was take pictures) and she discovered her love of photography. I also heard my father say, “I was never really there, I have the pictures and videos for your mom so I can relive it” a few times. I know he loves that he left us a legacy of thousands of hours of family videos and so many pictures it literally takes weeks to watch them all – all digitized too. But I wanted to be there. I wanted to be in the moment. I guess I’ve grown some, now I understand the “need” for having time stamped pictures. I still don’t take them much.
Christina fell in love with her baby brother – I knew they all would once he was born. They tote him around and play with him, change him and burp him, and argue over who gets him. Christina was more excited than I was over the blanket. She said, “and we put Pooka (Laud’s stuffy) here. Mom you have to keep that stuffy for all twelve pictures, it’s the marker.”
Yes, I will keep Laud’s special stuffy from Grandma so that you can mark the months – but Laud likes his giraffe from Mrs. Heather better. (My kiddos call the giraffe “Bestie” – well, one of the team sisters who rides the afterschool van I drive calls him “Bestie-Billy-Bob-Jo.”)
When I look at this picture I’m overloaded with emotion. Laud is still (barely, but still) wearing the girls’ favorite of his preemie outfits from Mrs. Hannah. He’s my smallest miracle! He was just over seven pounds at the time of the picture. He’s only just in newborn and 0-3 month clothes at 6 weeks! All of them are such little miracles! I’ve been so blessed to enjoy 8 of them! I have amazing friends who have blessed us with clothes, diapers, food, love, conversation, and so many things! My baby looking so peaceful and tiny on his blanket reminds me of all the blessings we have in our life. I’m so thankful for everything God has given us – especially for friends!
At church I heard something that made me laugh and shake my head. The laugh was total irony. It was a stab of truth. “You are only as happy as your least happy child, and if you have a quiver full, sometimes you may be both happy and sad at the same time.”
I laughed inside because the three days before this Sunday and that particular morning, I had been feeling stabbed repeatedly by three teenagers. Periodically the younger ones would take turns deciding to pretend to be just like them and that was not encouraging.
I wondered about that saying. When the girls wound my heart with unthinking words or “mean” things, I have to remind myself of something I learned a while back that helps: people tend to show their innermost feelings like aggression, anger, desperation, irritationin a place they feel safe because humans in their deepest parts fear rejection. When they know you won’t reject them or stop loving them, they feel safe and as such, end up showing their “worst side” to you.
I understand that their sharp words or actions are reflecting something hurting them. I will often try to find that something; usually not at that time as experience has taught me that when I say, “are you okay?” or “what’s bothering you?” when they are upset, I usually get a snapped, “nothing!” or “you!” which doesn’t help. I’ll often try to broach the “what is hurting you?” question in a less explosive time. Sometimes, it’s something small that felt huge at the time. Other times it’s something that needs more discussion.
But always, when I they hurt my heart with words, I pray for theirs and now remember something else: it is true that my smile can be on for Thea and I’m happily talking about her make believe lego world while we build our respective houses but my heart is sad because I know the “snap” was really something hurting their heart. So yes, there’s a part of my heart that is always feeling the hurt from my least happy child even though another part is engaging with smiles at another – sometimes there’s four or five of us in a game yet one’s hurting; I totally feel those “both feelings at the same time.”
I wondered about God and how we hurt his heart yet He always loves us. He knows when we are hurting but unlike mothers and fathers, who don’t always know what is in the heart of their child, God knows our heart and sees everything within us. Thank you, God, for loving us! Thank you for giving us a heart for our children!
*Author Note* Wow, I didn’t realize I have not posted all summer! To say this summer has been busy is a severe understatement; this summer has been a crazy roller coaster jam-packed with life craziness. Hopefully, this happy little story of a new miracle will make you smile! *
August 7, 2023
The Miracle of Laud
There was a day Louis and I took off of work and decided to celebrate our anniversary. As I was reserving tickets for our gym’s Parent’s Night Out for my kiddos who weren’t working it, my boss laughed and said, something to the effect of “no more babies!” Louis wanted to try for a boy and I was not against it! (I love being pregnant!)
Almost two months later we took the last opportunity to let all the kiddos know in person (Becky was home from college). Our teenagers had various hilarious reactions we should have filmed (ranging from “ya’ll are crazy” to a slamming door to “are you kidding?”). Jillian was super excited. Lucas started cleaning a spot in his room for the baby; which Louis was convinced would be a boy since he used “Dr Jack’s method” that worked with Lucas. Thea asked a million questions and kept trying to hear the baby’s heartbeat and talk to the baby.
My babies like to hang around and I love being pregnant. This time around was so different. I was measuring large, but there are lots of factors that impact fundus measurement so it is more just a guide to make sure the baby doesn’t stop growing. I’m forty and my last pregnancy to term was four years prior. Even though, yes, I’m in what I consider really good shape, my body has been stretched out and back seven times. I actually wore maternity clothes a friend gave me this time like normal! I actually looked like I was pregnant from about 5 months on, a real first for me. I loved that!
We went to the team banquet, it was the first one Christina got to come to, and the girls teased me saying I didn’t have any formal clothes… I surprised them with what I considered the cutest maternity dress ever (gift from the same friend – they just hadn’t seen it yet). It felt so cool to show off the baby. Friends who had seen me pregnant before asked if I was sure on the date or if there were two in there. (Louis loved this, the baby inside was doing some movements that I still can’t explain, and secretly, I would have loved twins.)
My “official” date from LMP would have been August 28, 40 weeks from the baby’s start would have been September 4th. I just told people September or early October. I honestly thought early-to-mid-September because most of my babies were about 42 weeks old when they came; I usually carried closer to 10 months.
July 31st started braxton-hicks contractions, the baby was still sitting up high right under my ribs and had not yet “dropped”. That was spot on for me because braxton-hicks contractions usually come 4 to 6 weeks (even 8 weeks, in two instances) before the baby comes. My babies tend to drop 3 or 4 weeks before. The baby-mapping information, which is super cool to research if you have time and want to be amazed, was telling me the baby was up to one side. My milk usually starts leaking a week or so before the birth too and there was no sign of that yet,
We went to the beach in the late evening of August 2nd. It was beautiful! I always feel like praising God for everything when I watch the majesty of the ocean, hear the laughter and joy of my children enjoying the water, and slow down to consider how honored I am to be so blessed. The others did gymnastics drill competitions in the soft sand (handstand holds, perfect Ts, candlestick holds, etc.) while Becky and Thea made a sandcastle from dripping sand – absolutely breathtaking.
(beach shenanigans and laughter)
On the way home, it felt like the baby shifted to sit sideways. I mentioned that I would like the baby to drop soon so sitting in a car wasn’t so uncomfortable. Christina laughed. The sing-along music at the top of their lungs and windows open made it so no one else heard.
I woke up on August 3rd a little after midnight. I thought my body was doing Braxton-Hicks contractions; it had been off and on since July 31st. These stretch-and-prepare contractions came and went in tiny spurts and historically clusters of three to ten stretches that disappear after I move around, shower, or stretch was “normal” for my previous births. I remembered seeing a facebook post about one of my best friends getting home from the hospital with her son; she often didn’t have night nursing and I hadn’t meshed schedules with her in a very long time. I texted to see if she was awake and able to chat. God knew I needed to hear her voice and we chatted for a couple of hours. Just after 4:15am, what I thought was Braxton-Hicks contractions about midnight (I had showered and they went away completely), became an intense contraction that came in a wave. I paused talking to breathe through that one and mentioned that it was different. I said, “this is early,” or something to that effect and told Hannah I was going to wake Louis & call Misti. As I stood up – or tried to – another contraction came in which the baby shifted from sideways inside me to “in position” and dropped all in the same intense contraction! I’ve never felt that before!
I made it from by the couch to the just inside the bathroom (didn’t get to my bedroom to get Louis) and another seriously intense contraction came. Someone had left two of the deep soft towels laid out flat on the floor on top of the bath rug (a nice, soft place to pause where clean up would be easy). I heard Christina coming out of the barracks and she asked, “mom, are you dead?” I was in full relax through the contraction mode and answered “I’m fine” with a tiny voice she knew meant baby was coming. She woke Louis and went to get mom. Louis came in the bathroom and rubbed my back, “this is coming fast” my bones were doing the separate-thing they do at transition (feels like my spine is coming apart). With the next contraction, my water broke. I texted “my water just broke” and called. Misti ended up being on speakerphone with us the whole birth. I remember wanting to double check my “official” LMP due date that was in my phone memo with all the other baby measurements for this pregnancy (my phone appears to be my notebook for everything to keep me straight on facts– I sometimes call it “my memory” because I upgraded from a purse-calendar-planner to that). I couldn’t focus on anything but listening to my body because I didn’t want to move too fast; my brain kept trying to slow my body down – nope, body wasn’t listening.
One more contraction at total relax and the next one came with a burning urge to push. I felt the baby moving to crown and said something, likely incoherent at this point, about the baby crowning. I heard what I thought was Louis repeating what I thought I said. I heard Misti say something too, but I was focused on listening to my body and slowly (in my head it felt slow, but time is so relative when you are in concentration on something – it was likely fast) pictured what the muscles in my body were doing and focused on working with them instead of fighting against them. I remember praying and feeling God say, “listen” like a soft ocean breeze in my ear. He made my body to do exactly what it was doing now. I relaxed – rested – in my trust of Him.
Louis told me the baby crowned and to push, I didn’t feel a contraction but refused to panic, I waited and breathed deep to calm and listen; another contraction came and pushed our little one out. There was a cry followed by a choking sound. As I looked to see the baby in Louis’ hands, the baby’s fingers then arms and toes then legs started to turn from a bright pink-red to blue! The baby had come out with the umbilical cord wrapped and Louis unwrapped it.
Time here slowed for us. It felt like an eternity.
“What happened?” Misti seemed to be able to see everything though she was just on the phone, we said he was turning blue like he choked, she said to suction his mouth. I remembered that from Kimberly’s birth – her cord was really short and the midwife had stopped me from pushing to unwrap her cord, then used a long tube to suction out her mouth – she had been blue. I couldn’t see using a nose suction thingy, it was too short. I had heard Louis say he was a boy as he first cried. Now my mind said “he” instead of “baby”. “How do I do that?” I remember not panicking although the back of my mind was screaming at me “he’s blue! Not breathing! He’s going to die!” Misti said to hold his nose and suction him with my mouth. It was like she could see that I wasn’t pulling strong enough, I remember, “no, pull like you’re sucking a milkshake through a straw,” I prayed and sucked up a ton of mucus which I just spit on the floor. “Blow into him, firm but gentle,” I heard. I blew a breath as I prayed again. He shuddered and breathed in and cried out! I cried.
Christina had called 911 when he started turning blue. He’d been not breathing. It had really been less than a minute between choking sound and his next full cry. It had felt like ten minutes. It had felt like eternity. Everything had happened so fast but in my mind it had happened in slow motion.
Fire rescue came in. My mom said one guy heard the baby crying and whispered, “thank God,” as he entered. Misti told us to rub him so we had been rubbing on Laud all over to get the circulation back. We’d recently watched Thea’s “pongo dog” aka “101 Dalmations” and one of the kids mentioned, “just like the puppy.” I didn’t know which of the girls were awake just yet. I did suddenly realize when there were strangers in my house that I was naked and bloody and there was a giant mess in the bathroom – I made a mental note to throw out the towels on top of the rug and I didn’t care if they were the big nice ones or not. I had been focused on Baby Laud. Louis covered my shoulders with a big towel. The Fire Rescue guy looks at the cord, which was wrapped around my leg, the placenta hadn’t delivered yet, and Laud is at my chest height being rubbed. He said, “wow, that cord is long.” They waited a moment for the pulsing to stop so all the blood from the cord went into Laud. Cord was cut and they did some stuff checking out Laud. I told them, “we called for him, not me,” because “blue and not breathing is scary” and I told them what I needed to do for me (deliver placenta, get blood off to see if I am actively bleeding, etc). The guy agreed and said the baby was good asked if he’d urinated. Yes, with his first big cry after I suctioned him, he’d peed all over, which honestly had made us laugh. Since Louis and the rescue people had Laud, I washed to get most of the blood off and stimulate my body to contract again and get the placenta out. Misti was still on the phone and had all the times and such. Someone (likely Louis, Mom, and Christina) cleaned up the mess on the floor (I hoped the towels just got tossed).
One of the rescue guys said they couldn’t leave until they made sure baby and I were good – for me, that meant delivering the placenta and not actively bleeding. Placenta delivered along with huge blood clots. Louis goes, “I know what to look for.” He says the placenta is a fascinating organ and knows what the whole one looks like. The placenta was whole. I’ve seen them too, but usually I’m a little occupied with the baby and only once do I remember examining one because I was curious. No active bleeding. Sweet. Just that drainage, which honestly appeared too light to me.
All Laud’s vitals were good! His little fingers and toes were pink by the time the placenta delivered and I’d cleaned up a little so I felt ready for the baby. They checked my blood pressure, which was “a bit low” so I had to explain that my blood pressure is always low, stress makes it “normal.” They were so nice and it was amazing how quickly they arrived. Everything was good so we opted to stay home because I never sleep in hospitals anyway. Laud was perfect!
From the “my water just broke” text at 4:36 to when he was born at 4:43 was literally 7 minutes. I am still in complete awe of how quickly everything went. Rescue guys and lady left somewhere before 6am (that was when I texted someone, Misti or Hannah likely)
Our little Laud Arik “stole” Christina’s title of “lightest” at his new 6lbs 4oz. He tied Kimberly for the shortest at 19 inches. His name means “Praise” and “Lion of God” in Hebrew. The teenagers pointed out he is a Leo. He is such an amazing blessing! The girls of course, are vying for who gets to hold him. Lucas commented, “you have two brothers, he’s my only brother.” (Although that is literally true, it’s also a little funny that he decided that was why he should be able to hold him more than the girls.)
Our littlest love is here!
He’s ready to be loved on and spoiled by big sisters, his big brother (who has been his shadow since birth), family, and friends. We’re so awed and blessed and honored to have another little “arrow” to raise up! Thank you, Jesus for friends, family, quick rescue workers (even though he was all okay when they got here, it was provision in case he wasn’t – not breathing is scary to watch)! Thank you, Jesus, for Your perfect timing! Becky gets two & a half weeks with him before she’s gone until November, Christina gets a week & a half before her final senior semester craziness, I only missed the last two days of camp at gym and will be ready for driving with the start of school, my mom travels over summer and was here for just a four-day stay in between visits & got to be here… I have always teased that babies don’t read calendars… and my cumulative experiences with births keeps showing me every time is different and God has all of it in His hands!
Thank you, Jesus, for the miracle of love and life! Thank you, Jesus, for the miracle of Laud!
*Pictures because my girls say I can’t write about him without sharing pictures! (photo credit to Grandma Tina, Christina, Becky, and Kimberly because I was way too busy to think of pictures!)
Probably the first oneChristina, Laud, and TheaBecky and LaudChristina and Laud (she made him a “burrito”Grandma Tina and Laud (with a hat)He’s all dressed up!Mom and LaudHappy Big Brother (Lucas and Laud)Lucas and LaudJillian and LaudMy preemie clothes fit, Mrs. Hannah!Anastasia and Laud
I continually reevaluate my “life goals,” if you want to call them that.
Core has always been to love Jesus, pass that on to everyone I can touch, and show love when I can. The additions have changed a little:
Pre-twenties, I wanted to be a wife, mother, and teacher. Did that. Am living that.
Twenties to mid-thirty: The only earthly thing I wanted for my children was a home they all grew up in and family roots. I failed at that. Life teaches you lessons and you hope to pass on the results so they don’t fall into the same trap.
Thirty-three and beyond, I only want my children to love Jesus in a true life-long relationship; I’ve learned that everything in life beyond relationships is just temporary.
Lately, my older children have made comments in passing that really cut to my heart. The first year I didn’t unwrap a gift from you. (Her gifts were too large to wrap & smaller things were in her stocking.) Wow, they’ve lived there like 12 years, that would never be us. (We did have a home for 14 years, just moved to two different places during that ownership to help other people for seasons.) You don’t give me stuff like the other girls’ moms. (No, I can’t give anyone a brand new car as they get their license, a new laptop, the latest phone, gaming systems, etc. I provide you with opportunities to save for those things and decide their value yourself.)
Those things and other assorted in passing comments have made me delve into self-examination for the past couple of months. I can’t talk to my Daddy about it, praying feels one-way, a memory pops up of Louis’ accident last year and the days of challenges and miracles, I feel like I’ll never dig us out into property that is our home (though I keep reminding my doubt that I left that in God’s hands, the doubt keeps trying to come in), people I know whose children I know are dying from poison, I pray daily for those I know who are affected: my life feels useless as I feel like I can’t do much for anyone.
This morning I saw the evidence of a life well lived. My entire perspective changed.
There was a young woman in a beautiful wedding dress beaming a smile holding onto the arm of an elegant man in a suit. Their faces shone with love. The photo was a portrait size and in black and white; aged scores of years. You could feel their love. Two candles on either side of the little table below the portrait. Mementos and memories on the table; he had passed away before her. It reminded me of my mother’s tribute shadowbox for my Daddy. Her home was full of framed pictures: children and grandchildren in various smiles and grins. A few in the midst of laughter – those cherished candid photos that you keep even if they aren’t the best quality. Worn rocker. Stockings. A Christmas tree. An open Bible. Her faith and the relationships she had cultivated radiated from each well-worn book, devotional, and study guide on that little bookshelf. My writer’s brain wondered how many of those books she or her husband had bought and then passed around. How many grandchildren had heard stories from that Children’s Bible with the bent binding? Children told her goodbye: that they loved her, they didn’t want her to leave, that they would see her later in heaven, one told her to give daddy a kiss from her.
That is a life well-lived.
Her children loved her enough to keep taking care of her at home; like Mom did for Grandma Jeanette. Don’t ever put me in a nursing home. Because of love, they sacrificed and made it happen that they cared for mom at her home so she could die in peace. Her face showed that peace.
That is a life well-lived.
I was so overwhelmed with emotion for that wonderful woman I didn’t know. Grandma Jeanette told me once to “live with no regrets” which I also remember from the lady who gave me my first cookbook. She’d been married four times and raised five boys. Her life story was how to gather things and make stews and build add-ons to her house and save people from storms on the lake. Her sons all passed on her faith; I played with her grandchildren and they were the first group of children I’d met who talked about Jesus like a close friend like my family did. She wrote “God will bless your life, let Him lead,” in my cookbook cover (I was 7 years old). She died shortly after at 90-something.
That is a life well-lived.
Live with no regrets. Love without reservation.
My goal is to allow my children to see Jesus through me, to trust Him in everything, to do my absolute best to shine His love wherever I can.
Life doesn’t have to be long to be well-lived. I consider the life I’ve already lived to be amazing. I thank God for each day He’s given me. For the challenges we’ve overcome as a family, for the health miracles which are the reason my babies and I are here, for the protection over my daughters’ hearts as they allow it, for the relationships we have with each other. Those I’ve known for seasons who are friends like sisters and brothers in my heart. Growing those relationships as best I can even when life is “too busy” and time is challenging; that is a goal.
Live with no regrets. Love without reservation.
I was 12, she was a beautiful frail girl with a rapturous joy of life and Jesus and family when we met her. She shared her love with everyone without caring what they thought. If someone stared at her bald head, she would approach them and say, hi, how are you today? And try to show them love and happiness. She came to our house probably because we treated her and her sister just like we treated anyone else; we played with them, swang with them, took them for canoe rides, fished on the shore while she braided flowers, played with our chickens and dogs together, told stories to each other, and otherwise enjoyed life. She lost her battle with cancer shortly afterward, but I couldn’t cry. She was home with Jesus like she talked about all the time. She told us we had to still play with Danielle. As long as we lived there, we did. I still love Erica and Danielle like they were my own sisters; since we were sisters in the faith, we are sisters.
That is a life well-lived.
He was his sisters’ baby doll. He protected everyone. He was loved by everyone. He knew who needed to hear and in turns shared his faith and struggles and love with them. His smile told you everything you needed to know; he was genuine. He died protecting those he cared about. His legacy is the love and relationships left in the hearts of those he loved and who loved him; and the relationships they created when coming to celebrate his life. He was my brother’s friend. His family and mine were intertwined in so many relationships through many seasons of our lives.
That is a life well-lived.
My perspective shifted. It set me back on the track that my brain keeps trying to veer me off of. My true life goal is to shine with Jesus’ light: to make strong relationships, to build into people, to share my faith, to encourage others, to help when I can, to do my very best to love as Jesus does. And in Jesus’ time, when my story on Earth is finished, I will go home and those I love will see a life well-lived.
Seriously? This child cracks me up with her faces!
They are: “I’m Thea” (top left), “I’m Coach Heather” (top middle), “I’m sad” (top right), “I’m sassy” (bottom left), “I’m Becky” (bottom 2nd from left), “I’m really mad” (bottom 2nd from left, “I’m a listening baby” (bottom right).
She loves everything her way and her biggest challenge right now is learning that she must listen to the teacher, coach, big sister, grandmother, or parent who is doing the teaching!
She absolutely loves gymnastics (she does only Fridays at Gym-N-Learn this season). Supposedly, her coach says she’s doing better at listening. I hope so. The reason it’s Fridays only? So I can bribe her with open gym participation if she listens! (Seriously, our open gym is immediately following Preschool Program – and that seems to work.)
Thea is a very independent three. I think “going on thirty” but then maybe she’s just “chasing Becky and Jillian” in the attitude department – and their determination has started to serve them well in practice and life. Thea wants to do everything herself – always has. That appears to be a huge thing for my children though, they always want to do whatever it is by themselves. It leads to them doing tasks and jobs before I think they are ready. (Taking the PERT or driving a motorized “big wheeler” at two or jumping into CAP leadership or raising animals or cutting potatoes.)
I always have to remind myself that Thea is only mine for a season. She is really Jesus’ daughter and I have the honor and blessing of being her mother. I enjoy each of her various faces and moods. I love to watch them grow. I love to guide them toward the truth.
That’s all what went through my brain while she posed with silly faces telling me what emotion or what person she was being.
I’m praying for her family. I’m praying for strength, wisdom, and peace in her heart. This woman is the Challenger of Norms. She has encouraged me over many years. When my daughters ask if I have a best friend, this woman comes to mind. She has allowed me to speak openly. We can talk honestly with each other about our respective challenges, joys, disappointments, fears, mountain highs, and valley lows without judging each other.
She was the friend who taught me it was safe to be vulnerable to another adult (other than my husband). She taught me I can be real about the challenges I face with the life I chose. Often we feel trapped in the life we chose, especially if our choice is considered “unconventional” or “unrealistic” in today’s world. This is because the world tries to isolate us into tiny corners. Public schooled here. Homeschooled there.Medical challenges in your children here.Healthy children there.Stay-at-home-moms here.Working moms there.Struggling business owner families here.Lower class, middle class, upper middle class, lower middle class… Etc. Society tries to put us all into tiny boxes and keep us isolated there.
This was not how God intended! We are intended to work together! Younger are to learn from elders, we are to speak truth and encouragement into the lives of others, we are to build each other up and edify. You can’t do that if you feel trapped into silence because someone’s response to you saying you feel stressed, please pray for me ends up being “you shouldn’t have done xyz” instead of just saying “yes” or praying right there. I always heard “your troubles are just because you have too many kids” – um… no. Our financial troubles came from poor decisions (paying off credit cards instead of house), medical unknowns (my crazy hospital issue), or issues beyond our control (losing jobs due to forced government shutdown debacle, someone using a car without permission and wrecking two others, someone rear-ending and totaling a car that is too old for us to get a replacement, etc)
The Challenger of Norms taught me to embrace the life I chose and enjoy each stage of it unapologetically. I have taken that to heart. She has managed to keep joy and purpose even in the face of debilitating medical issues facing her precious children. Once I mentioned how I felt bad speaking about how I was challenged when she faces so much. She told me only she walks her journey just as only I walk mine. That I’ve heard in my heart for over a decade. I have to lean on others who are choosing joy in order to encourage me to choose joy in my challenges.
We can discuss homeschooling options and challenges without comparing our children one to another because both of us understand that each child has their own unique challenges and strengths. We can discuss our challenges and encourage each other in mothering without judging. We can share our challenges and strengths in our respective marriages and understand that neither of us are alone in our respective struggles. We can boast on our men and laugh at their craziness and somehow that actually makes me feel more thankful for the blessings we both have.
She taught me that dropping in unannounced was totally acceptable for friends. We could show up at each others’ homes and just jump into whatever was going on – from parties to cleaning to pool parties to bonfires to just chatting about everything while our toddlers to teens entertain each other and our babies fall asleep. My home is now always open and I don’t really care what it looks like (Louis and the girls generally keep it in “mostly acceptable” condition anyway). We have games and fun every Sunday as that is officially our “family day” that we try to keep open. I hope to build relationships with my children, their friends, and families of their friends so that friends and family feel comfortable just showing up at my house if they ever need it or want it.
What I really learned from my friend is to live life as I want to, as God leads me, and let everyone else think and say whatever they want without really caring. Oh, I listen, but when it’s something that directly challenges the lifestyle God has given me – my amazing husband, our wonderful children, our happy amazing life – I smile, nod politely, and let it in one ear and out the other. I am who I am.
Sometimes we just need someone to affirm we are human just like everyone else and someone who will tell us the truth while allowing us to speak our emotions openly. We know the truth. I am loved. I am chosen. I am blessed! Sometimes we need to speak our emotions out loud to get them in line with our truths – and that, it when we find out where true friends are. Those who listen, agree they are human just like we are, and speak encouragement into our lives.
I am so thankful that God allowed me to overcome my insane fear of talking to adults just in time to make an amazing friend who, together with her awesome family, has blessed me and my family in more ways than I can possibly ever list.
Be that friend to someone today. Listen. Be human. Speak truth in love.
Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me. When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write. I write for relaxation.
A Writer’s Character Secret
September 21, 2022
Writing is an outlet for emotional and logical discussions for me. When no one wants to talk about what I want to work out in my mind, I write. I write for relaxation. It feels fun, challenging, and often makes me happy to be in my ”book worlds” I have made up.
For me, my “book worlds” allow me to explore things I can’t in this life. It’s like dreaming with my eyes open. I switch from book in progress to book in progress – I am currently working on about 18 titles actively. My mood in real life decides whom I want to step into in my brain. I know where each of my characters are in the stories – I know where I left them. Thus, I reread the last few paragraphs and dive in with whatever comes next.
Like my teenage self – lots of writing done then. I started when my father noticed I was “wasting” my school notebooks for stories, and he suggested I type them. I had a shoebox filled with 3.5”disks containing three or four stories each!
Imagine:
Her frustrations, emotions, dreams, adventurous spirit, and everything hidden deep within her as she worked her way through these books were laid out in her own stories tapped at a furiously increasing pace in MS Works on her father’s computer saved on a 3.5” disk. Her first completed story was her take on a true abortion survivor story. She became her characters. Her characters acted out and solved the problems she was facing. She talked and acted her characters and plotlines out while raking, mowing, or gardening in various locations. She was Erakk. Fighting to keep his character sound when faced with odd decisions he’d rather avoid. She was Jordan. Her desperate heart cry to be understood and learn how to teach bloomed from his soul in what was to become “Web of Deception.” She wasKelly. She was the girl struggling to lead and keep everyone together as their tiny band of outcast survivors developed a whole new world of peace and love. She became Kelly. The woman who mothers with an understanding she has gained from life and full dependence on Jesus. She was Kalina. She boiled with anger and frustration at not being allowed to do the things she desired with every fiber of her being and ended up learning that what she really wanted was only a small step in a journey back to what her elders had advised her to reach for in the first place. She wasEthan. An outcast in his own mind searching quietly for a sense of belonging he thinks he can make on his own despite the true reality that those close to him care deeply for him. She was Jamie. Facing challenges that feel too far above his age and making choices that defy the expectations of those above him; always choosing the answer of integrity and honor. She became Philip. Overcoming challenges in life that happened beyond his control yet bringing everyone along and pushing his family through to success in the end. She was Jo. Fiercely defending her sister from evils that trick the heart and destroy those close to her – blinding everyone except her. She was Jason. Defending his family from evils that weaseled their way into his family from years of incorrect choices by three generations behind him that build to forcing his father into being possessed into something he isn’t – now he has to choose to believe that the threads he holds onto are his father’s true self and force the evil away.
The stories continue. Some are finished. Some may never be…
A writer puts himself into the shoes of his characters and wriggles his toes around. We walk lifetimes in their shoes. We put ourselves in each character we create.
I always have a character in a book or series that I consider my shadow; sometimes it is the protagonist like Jordan in Web of Deception. Sometimes it is a supporting character like Philip Duggar in Brantley Station Saga or Kelly in The Devonians.
Oftentimes there are bits of me in each character. Strange thoughts…
I know, crazy writer’s brain, but that’s what I feel. That’s what it’s like to write for me.
If you stuck through this one, thank you ever so much for reading!
You know, someone says politely, “How are you today?”
Preprogrammed for courtesy, we reply automatically, “I’m fine.”
But are you really “fine?”
Or does that really mean, “I’m hurting, but don’t ask?”
In our society, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of pretending we are okay. Of pretending there is nothing behind our mask distorting our inner soul or crushing our heart or making rivers of silent tears run. We bottle up the true emotions we are feeling and hide them safely where no one can touch them.
Where no one can judge us.
Where no one can think we are imperfect.
Why do we want to appear perfect? Why is it not okay to show vulnerability? Why is a parenting question suddenly turned into an accusation that we are not fit to be a parent? Why is a question about how to handle an emotion turned into an accusation that we are depressed? Why must we instantly judge others instead of allow them to safely talk through their emotions? Can’t we all admit that sometimes we are angry? Irritated with a coworker? Disappointed with a child? Frustrated by a situation? Unsure about feelings? Can’t we all admit that we are not perfect?
When we comprehend the full meaning of the word “Forgiveness” we can choose not to judge others or ourselves.
Forgiveness is love.
Forgiveness understands that we listen and let it go. Forgiveness understands we are all imperfect. Forgiveness doesn’t consistently remind a person of a previous failing. Forgiveness is not holding a grudge. Forgiveness doesn’t gossip. When you find someone who truly understands forgiveness, treasure that true friend! Strive to be that friend yourself.
I process emotion by writing because I can’t always be talking with someone who will just listen. I’d love for there to be a portal like in Star Trek where I can say, “beam me to” and instantly be at my best friend’s house so we can discuss mutual struggles and listen to each others’ individual issues without judging.
I understand forgiveness. She understands forgiveness. We both understand that sometimes just admitting to another human that we are human is enough to help us work through our challenges. This I think is the essence of the verse where it says “iron sharpening iron;” we are to listen, encourage, and edify. We are to speak the truth in love. We are to listen with love. My Daddy used to say, “God gave us two ears and one mouth because He wants us to listen more than we speak.” I still twist back to “To Kill a Mockingbird” and Atticus telling Scout that in order to understand a man you have to listen well, put on his shoes, wiggle your toes around, and walk a ways with him.
Listen.
Don’t judge.
Be quick to forgive and slow to wrath.
When I feel overwhelmed, I pray. I sometimes wish I could just talk to an understanding friend. I don’t like facades. I don’t like pretending I’m okay. Yes, I understand that God is in control and that everything will turn out in a way to glorify Him; but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to ask rhetorical questions that I already have answers to just to help my brain process the thoughts or emotions within. My feelings are real. They are valid. I know how to make my mind calm and to cast all my worries on Jesus. My desire to discuss my emotions with another honest human is not agreeing that I don’t trust; it’s admitting that I’m human and don’t want the festering hidden thoughts to poison my mind.
In my Devonians world, the adults talk as if they have no fear of each other. They ask questions and advice of each other. They admit to fault. They don’t pretend to know everything. They act the way I feel. They are the epitome of what I imagine we were made to be. Honest humans who discuss feelings and help each other. Of course, that’s fiction. But using that world and the characters within it help me to put my questions to a nonjudgmental audience – I basically have them discuss things that sometimes never make it to my books so I can understand my own mind and heart. Crazy? Yes. Truth? Yes.
I miss my Daddy the most when I am overwhelmed. Even though I still pretended I was fine all the time, I could get him to discuss theoretical issues with me or book scenarios that moved my mind to a happier place.
Like music. Loud, fast music that I can sing to. (Can’t sing anymore but my hope is that someday my voice and lungs will heal and I’ll be able to sing again. Thea’s never heard me sing a song that doesn’t sound like a dying chicken.)
How are you? What do you need to talk about? Or as Philip usually asks Jamie in Little Thief, “what is it you don’t want to talk about?” – because he knows his little brother better than anyone else… He is an understanding friend.
I encourage you to find a true friend with whom you can discuss anything that is troubling you. Someone who will listen to your heart. Someone to whom you can listen. Listen, encourage, and pray together. Build each other up instead of tear each other down.
