As Only Your Mama Can… 

Precious daughter, we are coming to an end of our “through the Alphabet” blogging….now into the letter “X” which I am finding to be one of the most difficult letters to date…..but, then, is it?  As I was awakened early this am with the urge to get going with your weekly blog, it became clear how to use “X” in my writing to you this week…..and, I think you will like…. 

X is for X-mas, X-ray and a working Cross…… 

X is for X-mas.  When you were born, I rarely saw Christmas spelled out as X-mas.  Truly.  I don’t know if I wasn’t paying attention or if the abbreviated use of Christmas was just not a popular term, but I don’t remember seeing it and when I did, it was typically written by someone in a hurry to get their writing done. 

Sadly, that same cannot be said in today’s holiday environment…..Not only do you have to work to find the word Christmas spelled out in full form, but when you do find the word, it is usually associated with a religious experience such as in a church and no longer a part of our daily living. 

Sweetheart…..notice these types of things…. 

I truly believe the simple removing of Christ from our Christmas and replacing Him with an X is indicative of a world moving toward un-Christ like living and into secular, worldly living. 

In our home…..Christmas is about remembering the birth of Christ…..Jesus……Savior. 

If we lose sight of that fact, we lose everything.  If we give way to replacing the precious name of our Holy Christ with an X, I am not certain our life can truly have any real and meaningful purpose. 

I don’t want only us to place His name around our home in bold letters and bake Him birthday celebration cakes.  Let’s not just put out our manger music boxes and hand-made nativity scenes…..all of those are good to remind our eyes of a heavenly savior….

Let’s do more…..let’s seek a presence, a quiet time, a celebration and yes, a season of worship….not just on December 25^th, but every day…..every day…….every day….. 

X is for X-ray 

An X-ray is a photograph of the inside of an individual in order to assist in the examination of that person (actually, it is more complicated than that, but for our purposes, this definition works). 

We don’t hear the term x-ray used as often as we used to for it has been replace with CT scan and MRI and other bigger, bolder procedures…… 

Basically, an X-ray is an examination of whatever is being x-rayed…….a taking of a closer look in an effort to see what activity is taking place within….. 

Something we need to personally do daily….often….as it is by taking such a self-examination that we are able to see how we are faring in this thing called life…… 

We are often encouraged to take the time to examine, to delve deeper, to seek the truth of our lives, our hearts, our souls….. 

“Examine yourselves to see whether you are in the faith; test yourselves.  Do you not realize that Christ Jesus is in you – Unless, of course, you fail the test.”  And Psalm 26:2 “Test me Lord, and try me, examine my heart and my mind for I have always been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:40 “Let us examine our ways and test them and let us return to the Lord.”

And, there is a reason we are encouraged to examine ourselves…to x-ray our lives….because it is in the so-doing that we come to find the truth of our lives…. 

And, only in truth can we have the life God intended for us to have…..Holy and pure and passionate and praise-worthy.  Only when we get to the nitty-gritty and the “bare-bones” and the “give me the facts, only the facts” about ourselves are we able to find out who and whose we really are….. 

And, baby…..as God as my Holy witness…..that is all which really matters in this life…. 

That upon self-X-ray, self-examination, self-observation, you know whose you are…for whom you live….

And, all the in-between of your life should be an example to the world of this living…..so that whenever others x-ray the inside of you where God resides….where Christ is evident….where your spirit exudes…..

they see the love of Him 

Within the presence of you. 

“X” is for well……….. “X” 

You know….as I came downstairs to make my tea prior to writing this blog to you, it occurred to me that the “X” for which I was soon to attempt to write about is really a simple thing when viewed by itself….

It is a reminder of what weight on a cross will do…..we all have our crosses to bear in this life…..it is not just a simple fact, it is a promise. 

“whoever wants to be my disciples must deny themselves and take up the cross daily and follow me.  For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for Me will save it.  What good is it for someone to gain the whole world but forfeit their very self.”   Luke 9:23-24 

Not only are we promised that we will be called to take up the cross daily…..but in the so-doing we must follow Him…and, Honey…we all know where that led here on earth…..to His death… 

But, do not be afraid….carry your cross and count it as a blessing as you are being prepared….in the most holy way possible to be ready….so that, when upon examination, you are found to be…

His… 

And, there is peace in knowing that you walk not alone…but, with Him…who has taken this path before you and lights the way so that your path is made clear….. 

And, Sissy……He has the power to protect, to provide, to keep promises made to you and to every other person who makes the decision to take up their cross and follow Him…. 

We know this to be truth for so many reasons…but, one of my favorites is this fact…. 

HIS is the only cross which does not give way to its weight….His is the only one which remains straight…and tall…and unbending. 

His cross stands upright and points our way…… 

ILYAOYMC,

Blessings,

Mama

At first, it comes in such smallish piles, mostly white items…these little girl undies and t-shirts meant to cover …. 

Then, it grows a little larger with colors more like rainbows and opportunity and self-examination all red and black and navy and yellow… 

And still, with professional work it grew a little more sophicated with hues of colors never seen prior and names attached…such as salmon and daffodil and Chanel and Victoria’s Secret…. 

Then, with marriage there was a lot of white and soft pink and sexy black and red, but mostly pink and light shades of my character because I was a girlie girl in that way…my quiet introspective self.

 As children came so did the soft cotton pregnancy panties and mama panties and cover your stretch-marks as best you can panties with an occasional hot pink attempt to be sexy for my husband size 8…no, truthfully, size 10.

During a season of single life when my dresser drawers were just as single my life returned the cotton whites and soft pinks and pale blues, the colors of comfort and peace… 

And, as current day and age and marriage to my sweetheart would allow, if you peeked into my dresser drawer you would find me….all shades of the rainbow representing all stages of my life and a confidence which comes with age and the slipping on of those items which hold and cover and protect.  You would see all sizes and shapes and curiously enough….

You would come to see a little piece of me….

With just a glance

Into 

My “personal”….. 

Laundry… 

 

 

 

As Only Your Mama Can…..

 

W is for Wayfarer, Worth (Latin=Excellentia) and Whisper 

My precious, precious daughter.  Tender is my heart toward you as I write this tonight.  Ladder is playing “The Greatest Commands” on the piano and as you know, this always melts my heart as do you. 

W is for Wayfarer.  A wayfarer is one who takes a journey, usually on foot.  I so enjoy this word.  Not only is it lovely in appearance, but it rolls off the tongue in a lovely way as well.  But, more significant to me is that when I think of the ultimate wayfarer, I think of Jesus.  Once he became an adult, he truly did not have an earthly home.  His live lasted only 33 years and yet, he traveled far and wide seeking to fulfill the goal His Father set out for him.  But, He always knew…Heaven was His home and it is yours as well.

You, too, dear daughter, are a wayfarer.  Your feet will travel many miles, God willing, as you walk this journey of life.  I so want it to be a wonderful journey for you.  I pray God smooth the path and make it clear.  I pray He joins in your steps and that He sends Godly people with whom you can share your trip. 

 A wayfarer, by nature, need be willing to go in faith and trust toward the destination God has set before her.  You may not always see out into the distance a clear path, and when that happens, that is when your prayers deepen and strengthen and take flight.  At other times, the path will be clear and strong and outlined for you and it is during these trips you may find seasons of respite and quiet and deep conversations with God. 

Enjoy being a wayfarer….enjoy each day…live in each moment….walk toward your purpose. 

Seek out the good, let go of the bad.  Forgive, forsake that which needs be forsaken and love. 

I pray God guide your precious feet each and every step of your way…. 

W is for Worth which in Latin is Excellentia.  When I was 13, Ian wrote out the whole passage of “The Wife of Noble Character” and gave it to me.  He told me tonight as we were walking around the neighborhood that he could tell I had a beautiful heart even when I was a young girl and that is why he gave it to me…. 

Can you understand what it means to have your husband tell you something as precious as that?  That even when you were young and forming and growing and developing that amongst all that crazy changing and molding and shaping that he could see I had a heart for God? 

Priceless

Especially when you and I both know that I am far from all of that….. 

But, what Ian did for me at 13 and does for me at 51 is enable me to see myself through God’s eyes…and, to God…..I am beautiful and lovely and pure and worthy.  What a beautiful gift he gives me by doing so…. 

What makes this especially precious to me is that Ian told me he saw the same heart in you….that yours is lovely and tender and kind.  That the heart he sees when he is with you is that of a young woman who loves and cares and gives.  That is strong and compassionate and fair.   

He sees you through the lens of our heavenly Father…..and, baby, that too is a gift.  That is what we all should do for one another…

Hold up God’s mirror to one another so that we can see ourselves as God sees us….. 

Beautiful….and lovely…. 

Excellentia…. 

Worthy….. 

W is for Whisper 

When you were little and I was trying to get your attention, I used to whisper to you.  As you got older, I continued that pattern and it worked.  You seemed to know that if I was whispering, I was speaking something important and you would give me your full attentiveness.   

I whispered when I would sneak into your bedroom at night as you lay sleeping and would quietly say I love you in your little ear

I whispered to you the words to your favorite book as you nodded off to sleep while I was reading…Good Night Moon 

I whispered to you to be quiet so that your baby brothers could sleep, and you did… 

I whispered prayers on your behalf as I lay on the floor outside your bedroom door when you were a teenager and out of sorts

I whispered my support as you laid your head on my shoulder and poured out your heartaches 

I whispered my gratefulness when you said you forgave me for not being the Mama you deserved… 

And, even now…..though you are living out on your own, I whisper my wishes and hopes and dreams for you to God, and I know He is listening…

I whisper praise for your heart and thanksgiving for your strength.  I whisper halleluiah when you succeed and hold fast to her heart when you are challenged… 

I believe with all of my heart that God hears the whispers of a mother as she lifts up her child to him… 

And, I will continue to whisper every day….. 

I love you

I’m proud of you

I am grateful for you

I am glad to be your mother 

And, I will keep whispering to God…. 

Thank you for this daughter

Praise you for this child 

And, I will whisper….and whisper and whisper….. 

Until I can whisper no more…. 

ILYAOYMC,

Mama

 

 

 

 

 

 

….As Only Your Mother Can 

Dear Daughter Madison,  today, October 6, is Ladder's mother's birthday.  She was a wonderful woman....and, while you will never know her directly, you see evidence of her through her son, so today's blog is written in her honor. 

Today is proof that how you live your life matters.  How you spend your time….it truly does make a difference.  What kind of person you are, the way you treat others, are you a prayer warrior, do you know His word? 

Are you making the most of the days He gives you on this earth?  Do you reach out to those in need?  Do you take care of yourself in a way which reflects God’s love for you?

Are you generous with your blessings?  Do you enjoy the little things this life has to offer? 

Do you love?

 

Today, we celebrate the life of Ian’s mother….Dorothy Magerlein Young.  And, while you were not blessed to know Dorothy, you can know about her because you know her son. 

Dorothy was an independent, intelligent, hard working woman.  She was a forerunner in “breaking the glass ceiling”  and you are where you are today in your profession due to women like Dorothy who had to be strong and tough and intelligent in order to survive in a man’s working world.  Dorothy worked as one of the top civilian women on Fort Knox being the administrative assistant to the Colonel on base.

To hear it told, “to get to the Colonel, you had to go through Dorothy Young”.   

I have known Dorothy since I was four years old, but I didn’t really know her other than being the mother of Ian Young, my first crush and love.  She intimidated me.  She was tall to my petite-ness (I now realize she was only 5’ 5”), she dressed to perfection, always kempt and hair in place.  She enunciated her words in a way which would make any professor of linguistics proud.  And, she had very discerning views of how a young lady should behave (I know this because she made me behave accordingly one time when I was with her son and some friends at her home).  

I do remember her asking me about myself a few times at church.  I could barely hear her words because I was so enamored with the hat and jewelry which she often wore.  She was the kind of woman around whom you stood up straight when you spoke and you definitely looked her in the eyes as she spoke.

And, while I didn’t know Mrs. Young well (as that is the way we regarded our elders), I do remember very clearly that she loved her only son in a fierce and motherly way.  She had high expectations for her first and only born and it was clear, even to a young girl like me, that she wanted only the best out of him and for him.

When Ian and I started becoming “friends” around the time I was thirteen, I got the sense that she started taking note of me.  I was an awkward young girl, all glasses and braces and freckles but, I do remember her making the observation to me that I was a work in progress.  At the time, I didn’t give her words much thought because she just casually said that to me and a friend, Susie, but now, I believe that was her way of letting me know I was going to be “okay.”

I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember her kindness to me one time when I went to watch Ian play football at North Hardin High School.  Ian remembers the dress I was wearing (burgundy checked with a cinched waist and burgundy boots)!  I don’t remember much about the details of that evening…how I got to the game, who took me, how I got home, but I do remember being dressed up and locating Mr. and Mrs. Young in the stands and waving.  Dorothy waved me up to come sit with them and I did.  As I trudged up the stairs to where they were sitting, she patted the seat next to her and invited me to sit down.  She kept a running conversation asking me all kinds of questions until finally, I relaxed. 

I remember well when Ian and I were dating and he lived in Indiana with his grandmother (due to his job being there).  On weekends, when he would come home, he would come by my home first and watch Dallas with me my family prior to going to his home in Radcliff to stay with his parents.  Mrs. Dorothy didn’t care for that too much and let both of us know it!!  His Daddy would tease us and tell us we better get our priorities straight…and, we all had a good laugh! 

I wish I could have known Dorothy better.  longer.  more.  

She would have been a wonderful mother in law and grandmother to you and I have every confidence you would have been great friends.

But, though she has gone from us now, I can feel her presence every day….in Ian and the way he loves me and you kids, in the way he provides for our family.  I can hear her words in the way he speaks to all of us as he guides us through this life.  The discipline and focus and vision you see in him, I believe that comes from her.  As does the financial acumen, desire to take care of what we have and ability to get things accomplished quickly.  More of her. 

I am witness to her love for her son in the way she has documented the important stages of his life, carefully penning important events and milestones with little hand-written notes.

She has some of the sweetest photos of Ian as a baby…photos in which her love and tenderness for her baby boy is evident in the way she is holding him and looking at him. 

Dorothy was an adventurer, loving to travel and learn and explore.  This is one aspect of her which I did not know until going through her things and hearing Ian tell of their great journeys….Dude ranches, mountain climbing, beach dreaming, Alaskan adventuring…..she loved it all and I have loved seeing photos of her in some of her exploits…..

Dorothy was a lover of things beautiful and delicate and lovely.  This is evident in her silver tea set, and services.  The lovely crystal vases and carefully wrapped china.

Dorothy was an enjoyer of photos and keeping track of family history as evident in her albums and notes and documenting of their life.

Dorothy was a craftswoman…making beautiful quilts and crocheted blankets and hand stitched pillow cases.  My favorite is the handwork on the stocking she made Ian which we still hang lovingly on our mantel today. 

She was a note taker.  Almost every treasure Dorothy left Ian as his legacy of their family comes with little hand written notes explaining what is the item and from whom it came. 

 And, while she did have some lovely and beautiful things which she left behind for Ian, you don’t get the sense that it was the “things” which mattered to her but rather the connection these things had to the people in her life.

Dorothy has accomplished something with our family which I hope will be said of me when I have gone on to heaven…. 

She has made her presence in our home, our lives, our daily living known in a sweet and real and precious way.  Her legacy to us can be felt……

Through her Godly life

Through her love for her husband

Through her mother’s love for her son

Through her grandmother’s love for her grandson 

And, she has set the bar high for how we should live out our own life’s….with purpose, being present…..giving back to others.

So, on this day, we celebrate with thanksgiving a wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, friend…. 

And, while you may not have known her in person…..her legacy to you is that you can know her through her son….your Ladder 

And, I believe, baby….that has already and will make all the difference in your life. 

THAT is her legacy to you…

ILYAOYMC,

Mama

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five Minute Friday.......

 

You live your life    all    drawn     out     yet-flies-by-so-quickly-     in great wonder and expectation of what is to come next.  Before you can catch your breath on last year’s living, you are moving forward to tomorrow’s promises.  You finish college, take on new career, marry and travel.  You build homes and birth children.  You get puppies from the pound and paint teenager’s rooms in psychedelic colors which match their hair and at times, their souls.  The mundane of laundry and groceries and car pool would wreak havoc on your woman’s spirit except that underneath it all, where your heart lies and your spirit hums, is that place that is fostering thought about what it all means to do this thing called living.

You capture all these little and big and sweet and painful moments in the wellspring of your heart and hold them fast until that time you are ready….. 

to

WRITE 

And, when that time comes, you pour your very soul out unto the world on paper all black and white and even at times, red. 

Those hands which draw together words which form the paragraphs of your daily living.  You expose your innermost thoughts at risk to those who would read them never knowing if they prove worthy or even right. 

You forge through word meanings and soul searches and grammar needs until you finally find that rhythm which matches that of your very being. 

And, you come to understand that we all have our stories, we all have our life’s tales and we share them with the world in the form which best suits our heart.  Some paint, some orate and some craft statues sublime.  Some hone wood into bowls and yarn into blankets. Others surf waves on the ocean and still others fly planes into the heavens.  Some hold the sickest of babies keeping them alive and others educate the minds of our youth hoping, praying for leaders to come to pass.  Still others, they sing, they dance, and they make music on instruments made of all kinds of ebonies and whites.  Some preach from the pulpits and some sit at their desk making sense of our living.  

And some of us, those who have been heaping up wonder and thoughts and meanings into our heart and upon our souls waiting for that time when it is right… 

Some of us….

We

Write…..  

 

As Only Your Mama Can….

I have been waking up between 3:30am and 4:30am for the past several weeks.  This used to frustrate me because I just knew I needed that extra sleep.  But, now, I have been reminded that if I am waking up, it is usually because God has something He wants to share with me….. 

And, as I reflected this morning on my early am awakenings, I remembered this…every single morning I have gone ahead and gotten out of bed…yes, even at 3:30am, God has blessed me.  He has either been with me as I prayed, sat beside me as I blogged or sang along with me as I sang…..He was/is gifting me with His time….

This morning was no exception. 

I awoke at 4:11am to the little chime on my phone….so, I reached over and went through my messages and found an email from you…. 

It was written on March 23, 2009….. 

And, it both broke my heart….and gave me great peace. 

It is a love letter written from daughter to mother….over four years ago.  You would have been 19 years old…. 

a letter spoken in truth about the truth of our relationship.  It is a little piece of your heart laid out bare and broken all in words written in black and white. 

But, it is even more than that…..it is a seeking and a giving of forgiveness….an explanation….a journal of how we got to where we were and how we have come to where we are…. 

It brought with it’s reading so many emotions from me…. 

Precious, precious to my heart beloved daughter are your words….and even more precious to me is that you not only ask to be forgiven….but, that you forgive…. 

Parents are humans, we make mistakes…and, in your case, grave mistakes…. 

But, rather than bind us and you up with anger and frustration and un-forgiveness…. 

You forgive. 

I cannot tell you what a difference that has made and does make in my life.   

To hear your child tell you they love you even through their pain.  To have them place upon your life a heart of forgiveness..

It is a double gift….one, to be forgiven for not being the mother to you that you deserve and two, to enable your mother to see such a precious heart of God in her child.

To know that deep in the wellspring of your heart where God resides, you hold my hand and draw me in to sit beside you, mother and child and allow us to share together….. 

It’s a gift I hold close…and, always will 

Your words are precious to my heart… 

I hope someday you can learn to know me. The REAL me. Not the one you think you know. The one that loves poetry but hates reading it out loud. The one who's favorite color is usually the same as her mother's. The girl who enjoys picking her brothers up from school, and being able to spend time with them. The girl who is fascinated with Art and the Ballet. The girl who watches movies that give her hope of a happy life of her own someday. The girl who gets frustrated when she feels she can’t share news with her parents because of their tendency to "overreact". The girl who used to jump off of the roof at Balsam Drive into a pile of leaves. The little girl that loved the little "brick oven" she had made for her and the girl who loved to garden with her mother. The girl whose time in the hourglass is passing by, one grain of sand at a time. And the girl that regrets every single hurtful word she has ever said to her mother, and her father.

Baby, not many people have it in them to break open their hearts and give over their hurts in forgiving and in seeking forgiveness…and, don’t be fooled….we all have this need.

But, you do. 

And, I can only imagine how our Father in Heaven looks upon you with great love and favor for doing so…for it is He who calls us to such a life as you have already figured out how to live…. 

I don’t know why out of all the daughters in all the world and from all of the heavens that God sent you to me.. 

But, on my mother’s heart, I promise you this… 

I bow in prayer of thanksgiving that He did…… 

And, I am eternally grateful. 

ILYAOYMC,

Mama

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




Our Senior Moments…… 

September 22, 2013 

You carry these babies 9-10 months.  You rock them and nurse them and change their diapers.  You go without sleep and pray over their little heads as you take in the sweet, baby smell. 

You mold them and shape them and grow them to the very best of your ability. 

 

You share Barney, ABC’s, Bible Men 2 and Veggie Tales….. 

I am Mama to one daughter, twin boys and a baby in heaven we call Joseph. 

And, now…while my mothering may not be coming to an end….it is changing.  Sometimes, the change feels quick and abrupt.  Sometimes, it feels slow and even paced.  Mostly it just feels…. 

Different. 

Today, as we took my boy’s senior portraits, I saw men where boys once resided.  Where little hands used to be are now the hands which will rock my grandbabies, God willing…..And I am so grateful….so very, very grateful for this privilege of motherhood. 

It is a gift.  One which I appreciate as much as anything in my life. 

And, today, I was reminded…. 

Of how very blessed I am. 

~Grateful

 

 

 

And, this is what I learned……

An anniversary of sorts:  Today is the first day since I was diagnosed with breast cancer that I have been fully un-fettered by it’s presence in my life.  Treatments long past, doctor’s appointments scheduled once per year, and first day no longer taking Tamoxifin…my friend these past five years…this is my thank you….to you.

I was 46 years old when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Early stage. Highly survivable.  Reportedly, a small blip on the screen of my life.

 

And, I got to “keep them”.  A gift for which I have been very grateful every one of the 1,974 days since I received  “the news”.

Stage zero….I was told.  So, I thought to myself, stage zero means it is “pre-cancerous” and not really cancer at all.  “No,” I was told.  You most definitely have cancer, but just a little….nothing which we cannot likely heal.  You will be fine. 

And, for the most part, they were right. 

What they fail to tell you is that no matter how small is your cancer, big is the change in your life.  For it is at the very moment you hear the “C” word, that everything changes for you…. 

It was at that very moment, while sitting in the parking lot of Kohl’s clothing store that I heard that word…

And, was changed. 

Forever. 

And, in my opinion, for the better. 

Having cancer changed my life.   

In fact, it brought me back into my life.  It reminded me for whom I was to live….and die. 

I look back now and see the line in the sand of my life which delineates “pre cancer” and “post cancer”. 

On this side of the sand, I have experienced sorrow that has forever changed my heart…sorrow which has changed the hearts of others.  Some for which I bear responsibility and accountability, some of which another bears responsibility and accountability. 

And, for a season, I lived in the sorrow….until, I thought I would physically die from the heartache….not the cancer.

But, our God is faithful…..He never leaves us….He carries us when we cannot walk, He lifts us up when we cannot stand.

He takes the messes of our lives and changes them into not only beautiful things, but to works of art…. 

Before cancer, I was a faux woman living a faux life with a faux white-picket-fence family in a faux existence……we were liars in our own home pretending we were having “the time of our life” when in actuality, we were none.of.that. 

I was not doing this on purpose.  I was doing this to survive in a world where those who lay bare their hearts to that same world are deemed odd or strange or “pieces of work”.   

We, as a people, like things neat and tidy and ordered.  In fact, we call that “godly”.  But, not all of us, in fact most of us, are not any of those things.  We have hidden pains, secret sorrows, deeply felt oddities….

When I think of my personal friends…those who know me intimately….none of them…not a single one of them is neat and tidy.  All have had their own “c” moments in life…the truly walking wounded whether by decision of their own hands, or the arrows life has thrown at them. 

But, to me…….. 

THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL…..beyond description, too marvelous for words…. 

I took the time this morning as I was writing this blog to make a list…..it took me over an hour to write down the names of the women in my life who had walked beside me, in front of me, beside me….and, at times, for whom I took that walk with them…

God bless and bless each and every one of you…. 

And know…I am a heart of gratefulness because you have been and are in my life… 

I am here….because you were there…

So, as I write this….some One Thousand Nine Hundred Seventy Four days post hearing the “you’ve got cancer” news, I honor each of you…. 

I am grateful to you.  I am grateful for you.  I am grateful to Him for you.

You hit your knees on my behalf, you held my hand.  You watched my children.  You gave me the “c” news.  You sent me letters, cards, emails, notes.  You made calls, cleaned my home and brought me plants and food.   

You were the hands and heart of Jesus to me and my children….. 

You stood in front of me…

You stood behind me.

You stood to my right.

You stood to my left. 

I was never left uncovered, un-prayed for, un-loved. 

I was always lifted, encouraged and embraced. 

There are very few things in this life for which I am certain….but, this is one. 

 

There is no greater army a woman can have in her life than an army of her sister-friends when headed into battle….no matter what the kind…. 

So, today, this day, I thank you, I honor you, I love you. 

And, I thank our God who knew… 

He knew the value each and every one of you would have in my life. 

He knew I needed you.

And, he made sure to cross our paths….. 

And, to Him I say… 

Thank you…. 

For You!

Blessings…. 

Lesa