For Gary

To everything there is a season,

To Everything there is a season and a time and a purpose under heaven.

A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
a time to break down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to dance.
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together.
A time to embrace and a time to refrain form embracing.
A time to get and a time to lose.
A time to keep and a time to cast away.
A time to rend and a time to sew.
A time to keep silent and time to speak.
A time to love and time to hate.
A time of war and a time of peace.

My friend Gary's quest for truth has brought to mind my favorite passage in the Bible. It is the one that reminds me that God is greater than most give him credit for. In a world where we are told on a daily basis that our sin will keep us from finding heaven, this passage reminds me that my God knows that me and my human soul has to experience all things. If it took me longer to forgive or if my heart could not find peace quick enough for this world.. He set aside a time to me to heal...

2 Birthday Girls~

This Saturday, I spent several hours at 2 very important parties. One was for my 5 year old niece, Caity's birthday party. I left there to go straight to my 83 years old Grandma's. I was blessed to be able to spend time with both of these beautiful ladies on their special day. 2 of the highlights for me I captured on film.

For Caity, the most important part of the day was the cake and presents. When she went to blow out her candles, she stopped to make sure her Dad helped her, even pulling him closer with her little arm around his neck.

For my Grandma, it was that her ailing twin brother was there to share it one more time. She gave a speech at the end thanking all of those who came to share it with them one more time. And in telling us all what family and friends meant to her, she paused to pull her brother close.

Lesson learned...

At different times in our life we'll find ourselves valuing different things.

No matter what it is that's important to us, we want to share that special moment with the men that have our heart.

Simple things~

I love to pick up my 4 year old neice and spend some time with her. Her parents work all week during the day and as a treat to her I often pick her up for the day. I try to do a litte something special, if its baking cookies or a movie, always something special.

On this particular day, before we made it in the house to watch a new movie.. she spotted the tire swing and headed straight for it. You know, we spent an hour in the yard, me pushing and her laughing with all the excitement a 4 year old can muster! The movie has yet to be opened.

Lesson learned...

Special things can very often be simply your time.

A rope and a worn down tire can bring so much laughter~

If that was my child...

I was half listening to Nancy Grace at work last night. They were talking about that little Lohan girl being a drug addict. Honestly, I don't really care about Nancy or Lohan. It was a mother who called in who grabbed my attention. I believe her statement was, "Nancy.. If that was my child, or yours I know, she would never end up like that". For just a second, I wanted to reach through the phone and slap reality into her cheek.

I have 6 children. All raised the same.. pushing the same morals on all of them. Loving them each the same. I want nothing but good things for them all. I want a life full of good memories and for them to grow old in happiness and content. But I would be a fool to believe that they have no control in how they choose to live. And unless you've walked in the shoes of the mother that has chased behind her child begging, pleading, crying and fighting the drugs that are put in their face everyday at school you have no reason to judge them. Lohan not included in that. ( I hated her being a child actress years ago because I felt that was unfair) But addiction is different. Out of my 6 children, 2 have found their way to doing drugs. I can promise you it was never something I looked the other way on. It was not something we didn't discuss. It was not something that I as a mother could find a way to control. I've chased my children.. walked into parties and toted them home.. driven the streets at all hours of the morning.. sit in the hospitals while bodies were stitched back up... and prayed alot. Of the 2 that chose that life, 1 has chosen change. (He starts military school in July by his own request) and the other I am still chasing after waiting for the child I thought I had raised to resurface.

That lady.. and her uneducated comment just puts me over the edge!

"If that was my child.." exactly what would you do?

What I have learned...

No matter what your child does, you keep praying and loving them.

No matter how much you lead and guide them... they will still have to find their own way.

Compassion

I can not, for the life of me, understand the disregard for human suffering. I think sometimes that I am an Ilse in a sea that's demands beat upon me and stays constant.

I grew up here in the south. Here where churches line every street corner and the bells ring calling the masses to salvation. Here where biblical verses are as common to hear as hello's. Here, where we should do unto our neighbors as we would have them do unto us. And here.. where slavery had to be pulled from our cold and dead fingers.

I grew up hearing about the differences in man. How we were equal.. but better. And I found my own way. Fought against my upbringing to be better than them. I wanted my children to learn to judge people by the content of their character, not by the color of their skin. I wanted them to protect the under dog, comfort those who needed it. Fight against injustice. Be the good man who refused to let evil succeed.

And so...

Last night as I sat around my table, surrounded by my children, I heard one of them tell the most offensive jokes about the Jewish people. Vile and disgusting. How had my child learned to find anything of the sort funny? Why did some of the others laugh at it before I had a chance to loss my temper and scream? I found my self sitting up late in the night making them all look at pictures of the Holocaust. Praying in my heart that the pictures in that book would touch them as it does me? How do you teach compassion? How do you fight a world of of hate with only pictures and prayers?

Chosen~

And so, she is not mine by birth. She did not grow under my heart for 9 months like my first 3. I never felt her kick and she never gave me morning sickness. I did not pick her name, and I never rocked her to sleep at night. I missed so much like the ABC's and first steps and that first cut baby curl. She looks like her Mom, not like me. But like her brothers, she grew in my heart as much as the others grew under it. And as much as I missed in the first half of her life, I feel blessed to know I may be able to share the next. There are still first dates, proms, weddings and babies.

This mother's day, Katherine spent her own money and bought me flowers without any help from her Dad. This mothers day, I was chosen to be blessed by her. I am honored.

Lesson learned..

Not blood of my blood.. but still the beat in my heart.

I am blessed to be chosen.