Snowflakes and Joy

You tell me I'm a "Deplorable" because I support Capitalism. You tell me I am dumb and backward and anti-choice because I support adoption, abstinence and condoms. You call me heartless when I want secure borders. You ridicule and mock my religion that is based on love and forgiveness. You scream that I'm killing the globe when I throw away my trash. That is just fine. You say you want equal rights, so do I.  It is fine because I want more for my daughter. I want more than bread lines and government issued food. I want more for her than the guilt, cancer risks and infertility risks of abortion. I want more than allowing terrorists, rapists, drug dealers and child predators into my country (we have enough already). I want more for my daughter than a faith built on chaos and chance. I support a God who loves, forgives, guides and offers a joy filled eternity. I want a clean earth, I'm all for recycling, but I want more for my daughter than spending all of our prec

We all by now know that abortion is not healthcare. Abortion is the deliberate ending of a human life. Abortion is offered so that women don't have to raise the child they created. For a plethora of reasons the mom doesn't want to have to parent the child. Maybe she thinks she is too poor. Maybe she thinks she has too many. Maybe she feels she is too young. Maybe she doesn't want to do it as a single parent. Maybe she thinks not raising the child will lessen the trauma of the rape that created the child. Maybe she thinks having the child will kill her. Maybe she isn't ready to face a child with special needs. Abortion happens so that a child isn't born. That's the truth. When we strip away all the language that providers use: fetal tissue, product of conception (POC), fetus, blob, the euphemisms go on and on. The truth is an abortion is happening so later on a child doesn't show up. We say it is about the woman's rights. Why sho

Growing up Mother's Day was a day to make cards, go out to lunch and give special hugs to my Mom and Grandma. It was a day to call my other Grandma. We tried to make it special, the way kids do when we think that every day is Mother's day. Then, I went to college and on February 2, 2002 in the early morning hours two men raped me and one of them made me a mother myself. By that Mother's Day I was a mom without even a baby in my womb. God called Angela, my angel baby home. She skipped this life for an eternity with her Savior and mine. A life exploring Heaven where one day she will give her Mom a tour and I will finally get to meet her. It will be a meeting a life time in the making. A day of joy. A day to see her precious, Jesus designed face for the first time. To hug the child that made me a Mom! It will be a day only topped by seeing our Savior face to face. The Savior she is probably right now singing to with a sweet voice. 10 years later I was finally a Mom with a

There is a kid's book (actually part of series) called, God Gave Us You. I love it and Snowflake loves it. It is one of our favorite bedtime books. After we read it she will ask, "Mom, tell me how God gave me to you and my dad." So I will tell her our (7 year appropriate) love story. Lately it has morphed into, "Tell me why my Dad decided to go to jail. Tell me why he isn't part of our family. What did we do wrong?" I've struggled for a long time figuring out what to tell her about her dad. She knows he is in jail, but that is about it. His crimes are not for a 7 year old to have to know about. Heck, I hate knowing what he did and all the people he hurt, his daughter being a major hurt party. His whole family. I still hurt at times. I've moved on in my heart. Our love story ended when he chose to do what he did, I just didn't know for a long time that I was living in our epilogue. Every night when we pray, she asks for God to watch over her D

A lot of the country is experiencing the joy and beauty of late Spring. Next month will be summer. Here in Wyoming we are experiencing 4th Winter. May 1st and we have a couple of inches of wet, slushy snow and more keeps falling. It looks more like early March than May Day. Yet, just a couple of days earlier it was beautiful and spring like here in town. The weather changes and we can't totally predict it. Our meteorologists do their best, but even the experts can't totally predict it. Everything changes. The saying goes, "The only certain, things in life are death and taxes". While somewhat funny, it is true. Life is about change. Change is a constant. Life is a continual adaptation to change. I am not someone that really likes change. I like to get in a groove and stay there for a good while. I like to keep friends for life. I wear clothes that are old, because I'm comfortable with my wardrobe and see no need to change it. The one thing I like to change is t

In the military there is a saying, "The only easy day was yesterday." If I may be so bold, I'd like to take that quote and apply it to motherhood. Each day has challenges, easy day can be tough. The only easy day is yesterday. Yesterday is easy, because it is over. I thought that all my daughter's firsts would be wonderful. They are, but they are bittersweet. As we celebrate her accomplishments I know they are moving her forward, growing her up and helping her gain her wings. These are all things I want for her. Yet, it means that we are one day closer to when she uses those wings to fly. Once again, good but when she builds her own nest, mine will be much quieter. I love the elementary kid that she is. I applaud her for her accomplishments as I'm encouraging more growth. I miss the munchkin she was. I remember the cuddly newborn stage, how sweet it was! Teaching her to walk and watching her take her first steps in my parent's hallway on the gold shag carp

I've been struggling with this post for months now. I haven't wanted to write it. I haven't wanted to revisit the feelings, the memories. I haven't wanted to put my thoughts out there, But I owe it to my daughter. I owe it to myself. Most of all, I feel like God wants me to share my thoughts. Even if only person is blessed or helped by this post, then it was worth it to me. Spousal abuse. It happens every day. It happens in a marriage of non-believers and it is happening in the marriages of people you see at church everyday, in the marriage of people who love Jesus. Christians aren't immune to abuse. I think within the Church it is hushed up. For a few reasons. A big one is shame or embarrassment. We don't want to admit that our spouse is abusive. We feel like we are Christian failures if our Christ loving spouse is hurting us. Second, the concept of submission is not well understood in our "modern" society. Maybe just maybe this is how we submit, or

Just 6 short days to go and Holy Week 2019 will be upon us. Easter seems to be super late this year, yet it came upon me very quickly (if that makes any sense). January slogged but the rest of the year has zipped. Now, I find myself on the precipice of my favorite week of the year. Holy Week is my favorite week, but it isn't a pleasant week or any easy week. It requires that I take a long look inside. Something I try to do more than just one week a year, but this week of weeks is special. It is the week we remember all that Jesus suffered on our behalf. It begins with a loud celebration, what seems to be a triumphal entry and the adoration of a myriad of souls. It ends with the true triumph, a quiet morning on a hillside where the most amazing and important event in the history of mankind took place. The cross is important, it is integral to our salvation, but it is just a part. The saddest, more horrible event, but not the whole story. Don't get me wrong, the cross is VERY

How soon do we start teaching our kids what is important? Today if not sooner. When I was pregnant, I would tell my Snowflake, "I hope you grow into a kind, helpful, hardworking young woman who loves Christ more than anyone or anything else. Be a child and woman after God's own heart." There is nothing wrong (and many good things with) be a game winning athlete, A+ student or Nobel Prize winning scientist. Those things are good, but after the celebration is over you may be in a book, but you are forgotten. Think about it. Who won the last three to four Super Bowls (World Series, Stanley Cups, Triple Crowns, or whatever sport you follow)? Who are the three to four kindest people in your life? Which list was easier? For me it is naming people in my circle who are kind and I love the NFL, horse racing, gymnastics, NASCAR and baseball. Yet, even though I know stats, I can quickly name the people that are kind. They bring a bigger smile to my face than trophy winners. Supe

As parents we all fight battles we don't tell people about. We have failings that we don't want to admit to and we hate that God sees them. We screw up and try to hide it from our children, friends and families, from our co-workers and bosses. I'm not talking about illegal activities, just personal failures that we wish we could undue. If as adults we have times where we fail ourselves, shouldn't we be more understanding of our children? Shouldn't we remember that the are not just little adults, but young people still figuring out a world that we haven't figured out yet? I have to remind myself of this on a daily basis. That my Snowflake is still little. She's only been on this earth for a short time and in that short time she hasn't had the opportunity to learn everything yet. So I exert patience. I try to make moments teachable and not all about punishment. Consequences yes, but natural ones. If she makes a mess I don't get mad, but I do hand h

Last night I should have slept and slept well. The night before I only managed a few hours of sleep because my child only managed a few hours of sleep, and yes she is on meds. She gets lots of exercise. I do my best to make sure she eats healthy meals and we've cut out gluten and many artificial dyes. We use essential oils and do all the right things, she just isn't a sleeper, but we will find what works so my child can rest. That isn't the point of today's post. My close friends know that I have a very active imagination (it is why I love to write). My imagination is most active during the sleeping hours and I have pretty decent recall of my crazy dreams. Last night was a doozy. I dreamt that I was living in Lynchburg, VA. I was a professor of history at Liberty. I taught 3 classes. United States History- Native American history, United States History- Through the Eyes of Writers, and World History- An Overview of Ancient Egypt. Pretty cool classes I'd say! Sno

Well folks we are well into 2019. January is already a third over. That's right, in 20 short days 2019 will be 1/12 (approximately) over. Time marches on. The work days may be long and that clock may never seem to hit quitting time for some, but the days, weeks and months seem to be a blur. Time is crazy like that. I learned in 2018 that some friends and family members were going through divorce, saying good-bye to loved ones, moving (for not fun reasons) and other valley moments. For many 2018 was a rough year and it had nothing to do with the manufactured "news" and "politics" that seem harder to believe every day. I also learned that for others 2018 was a year of celebrations- new children were born, new jobs were started, houses were purchased, degrees were earned and much more! For them 2018 was a good year. For me it was a year. Just a year. A year with many good moments and some rather harsh moments as well. I started working at the Hearing Aid comp