All for good....really ?

We were just cruising along with our Sunday.  Had a great church service in the morning.
Spent time making plans for a Women’s event on Friday night.  Enjoyed lunch at Panera with my girls.

Then…wind/rain/gail force winds as Tropical Storm Debby blew into town. 

“We’re ok”, I told my nervous kids.  “We are safe in our cozy house. Everything is fine.”  

The television screen flashed images of damage and danger throughout the area.  Tornadoes were spotted.  Trees blew over.   Roads were flooded.

Still we were safe.  Cozy in our house.  Then we heard it.  Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Safe and cozy had become leaking and vulnerable.    The living room ceiling swelled with the burden of water which had entered through tiny cracks in our stucco walls. 

Drip. Drip.  Splash.    The bucket began to fill as we grabbed beach towels and mopped puddles and scooted furniture out of the way.  Wood floors squished with water. 

We no longer felt safe and cozy. 

Water seeped under the baseboards.  More beach towels.   Grabbed the shop-vac from the garage and began the impossible task of sucking water from our hardwood floors and new area rug.

The 10 yr old sat on the shop vac to keep it from tipping.  The 17 yr old anchored the rug to keep it from moving.  And I used all my strength to pull the vac along the rug, sucking up storm water.   Family bonding at its best!  

O my!   Sigh….  Why?   Cry.

Hey Mama...

Hey Mama…yes, you...I’m talking to you! 

I saw what you did this year.  

Yes, girl, I saw it all,  you amazing woman! 

Every little thing you did to make everyone’s days just a little more wonderful.  All the reminders you gave and the lost stuff you found.  All the answers to all the questions.  

All the shopping and cooking and ‘driving thru’ you did to keep everyone fed.

Late night trips for cold medicine and science fair backboards and milk for breakfast.

Early morning alarms for field trips and sports practice and pictures day.

I heard the encouraging words you gave…and the ‘I told you so’s’ you chose to swallow!

I saw you there folding clothes and sweeping floors on ordinary days….

Drying tears and kissing booboos on difficult days…

I heard your whispered prayers on impossible days…

You know what?

You are an awesome mom.   It’s not easy what you do every day.

But boy, do you do it well!

This building of people is an exhilarating, exhausting business…

But you are uniquely equipped you to mother those folks around your dining room table.
And you are good at it!  
Know this:  I am proud of you.  I go before you. And I've got your back!

With so much love you can't even imagine...
Your Heavenly Father :)

Happy Mother’s Day !! 

Meltdown @ Magic Kingdom

This past Sunday was one of ‘those’ days.  You know the ones I mean, the anniversary day circled in red on your calendar and around your heart.   October 2 marked eight years since Dave had died.  Yes, life has gone on, and we are doing well, but there is still something about ‘the day’ that makes me want to mark it in some way, both for me and for my girls.

A trip to Disney – his favorite spot- seemed a great way to remember as well as to escape daily life.  The plan was to write messages on a Mickey Balloon to release in front of Cinderella’s Castle (yes, this family of girls is all about the dramatic presentation!)

Then we got to the parking lot…and the meltdown began:

Happy New Year!

For some reason, to me the New Year always begins in the fall, instead of on January 1.  Maybe it’s all those years of ‘back to school’ newness.    Seems like a time for new beginnings…not to mention school supplies. It is ridiculous that everyone in my house gets so excited about shopping for school supplies!   The smell of a fresh box of crayolas always sends me back to Mrs Claussen’s 2^nd grade. 

These days..there are tears mixed in with the excitement of a new school year. 

Slow down, I want to holler. Stop growing up so fast. 

One daughter is looking for her keys as she gets ready to drive herself to high school. Gulp.  Another daughter  is telling me thanks, but no thanks, she can put her own hair in a pony tail and really doesn’t need my help.  Sigh.

The Guy on the Corner

Sunday mornings, there’s a guy on the corner of an intersection not far from my house.  His name is Scott.  And little by little, one red light at a time, we have become  friends. 

Scott sells the Sunday paper on that corner.  Every week.  Rain or shine.  Blistering heat or freezing cold, he is there.  On our way to church, over the course of the past year, we have brought him coffee when it’s cold and water when it’s hot and an umbrella when it’s pouring. He has given us Christmas cards and Halloween candy.   We try to tip big.  He smiles a lot.  Us,  too.

And in the 3 ½ minutes between stoplights, we have forged an unlikely friendship.   

He is always cheerful.   Always.  Standing on a street corner selling papers, the guy is cheerful!