A Daily Bread God

"Then the Lord said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day.

...and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. 14 When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. 15 When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was.

Moses said to them, “It is the bread the Lord has given you to eat. 16 This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Everyone is to gather as much as they need. Take an omer for each person you have in your tent.’”

...Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.

...The people of Israel called the bread manna. It was white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey. 32 Moses said, “This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Take an omer of manna and keep it for the generations to come, so they can see the bread I gave you to eat in the wilderness when I brought you out of Egypt.’”

 So Moses said to Aaron, “Take a jar and put an omer of manna in it. Then place it before the Lord to be kept for the generations to come.” ( Exodus Chapter 16 )

I was prompted to write this post after reading a blog post from a friend who is emerging from the pit of a horrendous trial, and while listening to a phone call between our daughter and my husband this morning. For those who don't know, Jordan and her husband Ryan are following the Lord's leading and are moving this fall to serve Him in the Philippines. Long term. No round trip tickets. 

With time drawing closer to their departure date, she called this morning with concerns about the funds needed to make the trip and to sustain them while they are gone. They know they are following God's call on their young lives, yet, even with faith comes the expected trepidation and questioning: "What if the money we've raised isn't enough?, What if we have an emergency and need to get back home?" 

I was listening to Jeff's end of the conversation, which was reassuring her that God would most certainly provide for their needs. It is natural to worry to some extent, but God has this all worked out. He told her something that really struck me in the moment. He reminded her that God is a "daily bread kind of God". He gives us what we need, and when the time comes for their journey, the provision will be made. WE may not think it's enough, but all we have to do is to trust that He will not let us go without what we need. He began to tell her of some of the stories from our distant past when our faith was being tested and built. Of the time when she was about 3 years old and we were broke and had no food in the pantry. We didn't know how we were going to eat until payday. That evening we went out and there were 2 bags of groceries on our porch. To this day we don't know who put it there. 

Manna in the jar.

Another time, about a year later, again, we were struggling to make ends meet, and one day there was a manila envelope in our POST OFFICE BOX with just our name on it. Inside was an unsigned note and a $100 bill. 

Manna in the jar.

And I could go on with more stories. I remember a time when we had enough gas for me to get to work at the school where I was working, but had no idea how I would get home because the tank was below "E". That day on my desk in my office was an envelope with a note in a child's handwriting: "Mrs. Self, you are a blessing.", and a $20 bill. Gas money that was provided when I didn't have a single dollar to put in the gas tank. I don't know what child it came from. But there were tears that day, and

Manna in the jar.

Thinking back through all these "daily bread" experiences brought to mind when my mother told me of those times when I was little that they had struggled. I remember a story she told me of when they had no money and wondered how they would feed the family. Someone came to the house and bought a roll of wire my dad had for $10. With that money, she bought a bag of beans and we had supper. I have not forgotten that story. And it was 

Manna in the jar.

We have been provided for in lean times when we only had enough "daily bread" for THAT day. No more and no less. Just like the Hebrews in the desert. And now we have manna in our own jar to show future generations how God supplied our needs. We have our stories to tell of His faithfulness. Proof that we are not forgotten even when we don't know how it will be possible for things to work out. 

Jesus even reminded the disciples, and us, of this concept when He modeled the prayer for us to ask for our daily bread. A reference to the manna that fell each morning with the dew on the ground, and melted away when the sun came out and burned it off. When the Israelites stored up more than they needed He knew it would cause them to lose focus on the source of their provision. Therefore, he would cause the excess to rot and be eaten by maggots. And there they were the next morning, right back where they started: With nothing. 

So a lot of reminders came to me this morning with that phone call. Hopefully, in years to come, Jordan and Ryan will have their own stories to tell their children and grandchildren of how God sustained them. Their legacy will be added to a jar full of the history of His faithfulness to our family. 

Surely we all have our own stories of how God has preserved us both physically and spiritually. In times of financial need, and even in times of crises of faith when we didn't' know if we would survive our time of desperation. I still pull from my collection of memories when I start to worry about our own future and ask those questions during times of uncertainty about the forthcoming days, "Will there be enough?" Throughout our lives He has proved time and time again that He is indeed Jehovah Jirah, the Lord who provides. Who provides hope when it seems there is no hope. Who provides gas in our empty tank. He will continue to be so in the days and years ahead. My worries are needless. My God goes "beyond, beyond". His Word is true. My manna jar is full, and it is all the assurance that I need.

Learning "True Womanhood"

Our small group on Wednesday nights has been going through the bible study "True Woman 101", learning about true biblical womanhood. Last night, the topic included discussion about the "softness" that God created in women.

Something to notice:
The Hebrew definitions for man and woman are:
Man- "Ish", meaning "strength".
Woman- "Ishshah", meaning "soft".

Do you notice what we noticed? The root word "ISH" is used for both sexes. "Ish" means strength and is included in the meaning for both man and woman. So even though God created women the softer sex, it does not mean that we are weak-minded or wimps. In our softness there IS strength. We are not doormats. But we do have a tenderness of heart that is in our very nature. We are capable forming of deep and meaningful relationships, but are also much more easily wounded in relationships. Softness doesn't mean we aren't who we are in our personalities and make-up. That we can't be outgoing and fun-loving.

I understand some women's reluctance to accept God's point of view when it comes to our womanhood. It most certainly isn't politically correct in today's feminist culture. And we have been "educated" about our "equality" with men all our lives. We ARE equal in God's eyes, but we also ARE different. Both men and women are created to show the character of Christ and his relationship with His church in our unique and separate ways. Men in strength: Provider, protector, defender.. Women in softness: nurturer, tender, and submissive, as the Church submits to Christ and His love for us. It is a beautiful mystery. If we say that we believe His word, we must believe ALL of it, including the wonderful way He created us. When we follow His outine,, we are more of who He had in mind for us all along. We are ourselves, but even BETTER!

Being an Oklahoman...

Rodgers and Hammerstein described my home as a place where there's plenty of room to swing a rope, with plenty of heart and plenty of hope. 

If you are a native Oklahoman, you understand the spirit of the people here. Maybe you are descended from one of the many tribes of "red people", for whom our state is named, that made their way to this land by surviving the tragic Trail of Tears. 

Or perhaps your ancestors were among the 50,000 who made their way to Indian Territory in April of 1889 to start a new life of adventure by running in a race for land.

You may even come from a line of people who came West to farm our rich soil and endured the Dust Bowl....

Or came here in search of black gold beneath the soil...

No matter how you came to be born here, it can definitely be said that courage, resolve, and resilience run deep within our veins. And there is a pride in living here like none I have ever seen. Whether it is being compelled to stand and clap and sing when hearing the song "Oklahoma", or explaining the meaning of the word "Sooner" to an outsider. ( from Wikipedia: A number of the people who participated in the land run entered the unoccupied land early and hid there until the legal time of entry to lay quick claim to some of the most choice homesteads. These people came to be identified as "Sooners." ) We have a rich heritage and a colorful and exciting history that defines us. We are overcomers in a state that was born out of great adversity. Maybe this can explain a lot about what people are seeing in our state since the tornado struck Moore on Monday. 

We are famously known as the place where the "wind comes sweeping down the plain".  Monday afternoon of May 20, 2013 brought a cruel wind that left behind a wake of death and destruction. Utter devastation is one way to describe it. Where does a community even begin to pick up the pieces? I heard our Governor say that the very first place to start was having to just put the names of the streets back up, because people couldn't even find where they lived or where their businesses were located, due to the streets and signs being wiped clean like a slate. Imagine no street signs or house numbers!

My heart and stomach were sick as I watched the Weather Channel's live broadcast of the monstrous black wedge approaching the town of Moore yet again. The images of the aftermath still leave me in shock and disbelief that it could be real. So much loss. So much sorrow. So much to overcome. But, as Rodgers and Hammerstein said, we are a people with plenty of heart and plenty of hope. This is when America sees Oklahoma at her finest and most admirable. Whether it is teachers shielding their students' little bodies, first responders digging through rubble through the night, local churches setting up as command centers, or just people feeling they must do something, so they donate to the many charities that are on the scene, THESE are the people of Oklahoma:

But if there is one thing that defines us as a people, I believe it is that we are a people of faith. Faith, plus hard work and resilience have gotten Oklahomans through many tragic times from the Dust Bowl, to the dark April day in 1995 when our State Capitol saw unspeakable evil bring down our Federal Building,

to the ravages of numerous tornadoes. We have been knocked down into the red dirt too many times to count, but there is a determination here that shows the world that you can't lick us. We always seem to come back stronger and even more resolved than ever. Remember, it is in our Sooner red blood and our DNA. Our heritage has made us strong. We are the sons and daughters of those who tamed the West. We are Oklahoma.

Firsts and Lasts

I remember the fall of 1998. 

We took a 4 year old little boy to his first day of Pre-K at Rock Creek Elementary School in Blue, Oklahoma. He was enrolled in the headstart program at the beginning, but when we found out our picky eater was not going to be able to bring his own lunch from home, we knew THAT would not work out, so he was moved over to the regular pre-K class where his selective palate would not be subjected to lunchroom cuisine.

Kindergarten started a new and exciting 4 year adventure in Whitewright, TX, where we have fond memories of Kindergarten Rodeo, school friends ( forever remembered as his "posse" ), church musicals, learning to play the drums,  seemingly never-ending fights with big sister, AND becoming a big brother! 

After Texas, this ministry family headed to the big city of New York where we soon learned that home school was where our school memories would be made. Our desk was the kitchen table and our playground was the Big Apple and surrounding area, where we took many unforgettable field trips to the beach, our first tour of a lighthouse, Wall Street, Broadway, and even the legendary Sleepy Hollow up the Hudson River.

Our next move was south...The OLD South to be exact. We were located just a few miles down the Savannah River from historic Savannah Georgia. Public school was again part of our lives, which aren't Jarrett's fondest memories of Georgia. But the friends we made there and the adventures we had are the basis of many happy memories made, including friends and family coming to visit us and getting to show them the sights. We had Independence Day fireworks at the beach, fresh-made candy on River Street, and one of our favorite memories was getting to go watch the dolphins on Captain Mike's Dolphin Tour! 

 

The next stop on our journey is where we once called home, and now we call it home again: Oklahoma. Back with family and friends and familiar roads where we don't need maps or the GPS. It is where Jarrett has spent his last 6 years of school days at Cottonwood Elementary and Coalgate High School. SO many friends and memories have been made here. This was where a boy became a man, traveling overseas twice doing mission work, enduring the hardships of losing cherished childhood friends, and working hard and earning the money to buy his first car. 

What prompts me to write this blog post today is that this morning that picky-eating little boy who had to take his own lunch to pre-k walked out the door to his last day of High School. His days of school plays, Friday night football games with friends, and meeting at the flag pole every Wednesday to pray, along with the mosaic of all his school experiences are now behind him. Friday night he will walk across a stage with an honors sash around his neck and a diploma in his hand, ready to move on to more adventures and to make more memories. The time has seemingly evaporated into this day. I know living the life of a preacher's kid has not always been easy, but I also know it has not been boring or ordinary.  And he, also, is neither boring nor ordinary. This life has prepared him to be able to take on what comes next. I am confident that he is ready. Soon will be his own apartment and his college days, and showing others Christ along the way.

And I'm sure there will be care packages full of Doritos and Spaghettios on the way! I love you Jarrett Skyler Self! Have the life you have!! ;) I will be nearby with a camera, as always!

Jarrett Self

Coalgate High School

Class of 2013

 

The Church Buffet

I am writing this blog in response to a post written by a fellow pastor's wife. I think it speaks volumes on the Church in America. Here is her post, and my commentary follows:

"At our past church, my husband and our pastor did a three-month process to try to teach the body the missional idea of church. After three months of teaching, preaching, modeling, etc, the pastor had a dedication service for those who wanted to follow along. NO ONE went forward. Their idea was "well, thats for other people to do," or "I know we are supposed to do that, but I don't want to." etc. It was heartbreaking. I think for the last 30-40 years the church has taught that its important to "come to church, tithe, give, get your Sunday School pin, eat dinner on Wed night...and if you don't come to every event we have then you are a 'sorry' Christian." I think the church has done much damage to the body of Christ. We need to have a whole new way of thinking...We are trying to break from all of that tradition with our church plant, and missional ministry is in the DNA of our church. I think its easier to start with that mindset than try to change a current congregation. We (the church in America) have created a consumer Christian church - where people go and select cafeteria-style of the things they want to do or not want to do at church...and church has become the last resort thing to do if there is nothing better..." 


What a sad commentary on the local Church...What's even more sad is that lady after lady commented that they are having the same experiences in their churches..Is this what Christ had in mind for His Bride? A bride is something beautiful. This depiction above is not a beautiful portrait. I LOVE idea that the staff wife above believes that The Church is NOT a cafeteria. We cannot "pick and choose" our church based on what we like and don't like, and then just sit there hoping not to be made uncomfortable!

This is an accurate picture of most churches today, and it is a sad one. What are we doing? What are you doing in YOUR local fellowship of believers?..Are you listening for God to speak? Or are you focused on your own wants from the non-doctrinal, non-essentials "buffet"?

Here is a list of a few "non-doctrinal non-essentials" in case you were wondering:

Style of worship
Choir? Or worship team?
Color of carpet
Worship service times
Do they use the hymnal or a screen?
Pastor's attire
Are the women wearing dresses?
Do they get out at noon?
Availability of parking
Do people there have tattoos? Or men with long hair?
I could go on with many more...SUCH AS:

 
That is a humorous rendering, but very accurate! 

 
 
Here is a list of "ESSENTIALS" to look for in a Church:

Do they teach: Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life
Christ was crucified for mankind and rose again.
Is the church missional?
Is the church focused OUTWARD, not INWARD?
Is the church loving and welcoming?
Do they teach sound doctrine?
Are they obedient to the Holy Spirit and follow the pastor's leadership?
Do they hold each other accountable to the higher calling of a Believer and live out the commands of scripture?
Are they focused on the Kingdom? Or the world? 
Do they teach and LIVE THE TRUTH?
Are they eager to know Christ more?


Notice the first list is all about the PERSON attending and THEIR wants. The second list is all about HIM and what HE wants for us. True believers who are seeking Him and His Kingdom cannot focus inward on our own desires, but we must go where there is TRUTH being taught, where God is speaking, being heard, and where He is WORKING! A movie I recently watched said, "It's not about what God is calling you to DO, it's about what God is calling you to BE!" What are you BEING for Christ and His Kingdom?

 Are you being Kingdom-centered? Or self-centered? I don't know about you, but I would rather be part of an EXTRAORDINARY church than an ordinary one! And I don't know of any extraordinary church that lives in the rut of comfort. We've all heard the question: "Are you allowing Him to use you?"..What kind of question IS that? Is that something we should even be asking? Giving God PERMISSION to use what belongs to Him?? We were created by Him to be used by Him. We are to be willing servants, just as Christ was. Not spoiled, demanding children who always want our way. 

I was truly moved by something while watching "The Bible" series on the History Channel. The movie truly brought to life for me what Christ endured while he was here. SURELY He was uncomfortable while being tested in the desert...While being followed by mobs of people...While dealing with bewildered and foolish disciples...While he was exhausted...While being arrested, beaten, and tortured on a cross...A cross he told US to pick up and carry alongside Him. What do we think He meant by that? Do we think taking up our cross daily MIGHT NOT make us uncomfortable at times? Surely it should make us uncomfortable daily! How dare we complain about the mundane? If the pastor preaches a little too long so we miss the kickoff? If the temperature isn't just right in the sanctuary? And for the love of Pete, if someone is sitting in our seat?? Think of the missionaries who are sitting on the ground at the equator, introducing our humble Savior to people groups who are starving to hear the Good News and have never even CONSIDERED a hymn book or a padded pew to sit on. How can our pastors pour their hearts into messages week after week with no response at our altars? Have our hearts grown that cold and indifferent to the Holy Spirit because we are so focused on our own comfort? What have we become, Church of America? It should be enough to make us take an inventory of what is important.  Don't be a church that does damage to the name of Christ! Be humble, be loving, be demanding only of the truth...I have news: The church isn't all about me. It isn't all about you. Don't lower the Church that Christ died for to no more than a choice on a buffet. What He has for us, if we will look beyond ourselves is a King's feast that we cannot even imagine. It's time, no, it's imperative that we expect more and demand more of our Christianity than a cheap, early-bird special. He certainly expects more. And I believe His heart is breaking at what He sees in America today.

Light in Dark Days

This is a dark morning.

I suppose the bombardment of news stories, Facebook prayers, and the like, have caused me to pause and reflect and wonder how I might be able to express my feelings today. 

Then one of those facebook posts spoke to me. It is the lyrics to a Christmas song from about 20 or so years ago

I want to share it with you:  

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised, we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child


Bring Your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven's silence
Welcome to our world
 
Fragile fingers sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorns
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome to our world



This is a morning when 20 sets of parents, as well as husbands and wives, opened their eyes ( if sleep ever came ) and had a split second of peace, only to have their sorrowful reality come flooding over their wounded souls like an inescapable ocean wave. 
The very depths of their souls are wrenched in pain.

A tiny hamlet in Connecticut is longing for answers this morning. They are searching for meaning. They are wondering where God was during such an act of horrendous evil. I know that in our human-ness, our minds are bombarded with questions.  We cannot imagine such suffering. Broken hearts long for someone or something to give us what so many times we cannot find. To answer the unanswerable. To find peace amid the chaos. Healing for shattered lives. A comfort that just won't come. 

But those things DID come.

They came in the form of the very God who created the universe, wrapped in humanity and held tightly in the arms of a teenage mom. A mom who needed this tiny Son to save even HER. HE was the answer to the brokenness of a fallen world. 

The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us...John 1:14

I suppose I am looking for my own answers and peace this morning. And He is speaking.  My need for answers cannot compare to the parent who has just lost a child. But He understands my questioning as much as the ones experiencing the deep pain. 

I can imagine there are questions today of "How can God be good and allow such things to happen?"

"Where was God?"

"Why would God permit such tragedies if He truly loved us?"

It is impossible to answer all the why's of God allowing us to walk through such darkness. But I do know where He was. He was there. He was in that room with those babies. He was in the firehouse with the parents who were waiting in vain for their children to walk out of that school. He was there...And He is here. 

I also know another thing: He can be trusted.

God never said that we would not go through pain. In fact, He told us the opposite. 

John 16:33 says:

He also told us that He would walk with us through the pain:
  

 

The times when we are in our deepest despair can become our most precious times with Him. He promises that we can have peace, even when we can't comprehend it.

I cannot pretend to understand such grief. But I have seen dear friends experience the loss of their children, and I have seen strength that I cannot explain. He is there. And He gives hope.

I believe that God wants us to know Him. Completely and totally. All of Him. 

It would be impossible to know God's peace if we didn't have turmoil.
...to know His comfort if we didn't have pain.
...to know His joy if we didn't experience sorrow
...to know His healing if we weren't ever broken.

We can be certain that our suffering is never in vain, and that God will only allow us to go through what can be used later for His greater glory. He won't allow pain without a purpose. God has a plan. That plan can be trusted, and as the song once said, "When you can't trace His hand, trust His heart." 

He is good. He is faithful. He is worthy of our praise and our love even on the darkest days. 

So during this time of such tremendous sorrow, there is hope. There are promises that will not be broken. We look to the Christ Child in the manger. He came to bring light into this dark world. He came to rescue us from that darkness. This world needs His light. So when the conversations come, whether in person, or on Facebook, remind others of the Hope that we have who have put our trust in Him. This is an opportunity to introduce the TRUE Christ Child to someone who is without hope and without answers. 

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised, we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child



God grant your peace. Hear the cries of the broken. Let your Spirit wrap up the hearts of those in unspeakable pain. Jesus, be TRULY near during this Christmas season. Show us your glory and give us hope. Light the way out of the darkness. Comfort. Heal. Restore. Love. We give you the praise you deserve and we trust you completely.

Amen.








 

Seasons Are Changing...

I have been prompted lately to write. 

I have titled this blog "Sundays and Seasons", reflective of the various aspects of my life as a woman who is a mother, daughter, sister, aunt, and also a pastor's wife. Sundays and Seasons pretty much covers all the bases that my life encompasses: Being a pastor's family, how a ministry life affects the home dynamic, the experiences of having 3 children who are in various stages of life, as well as growing older alongside my pastor husband.

My husband's name is Jeff and in August we will be celebrating 25 years of wedded bliss, as well as wedded struggles, victories, trials, survival, sorrows, and triumphs. Anyone who has been married for 25 years has probably come through a lot and can attest that there is a lot to celebrate! We have been through many seasons of raising children who have put us through the gauntlet of the parenting decathalon. We've dealt with issues from infant reflux to pacifier withdrawal, OCD and TIC disorder associated with Tourettes Syndrome, public school and home school, depression and panic attacks, lost homework, found homework ( after 10 years of being lost! ), picky eaters, self-esteem issues, sibling fights, sibling love, and fear of the dark. Even helping them through such tragic issues as the untimely deaths of childhood friends..Is that more than TEN? I did say decathalon. But of course any parent knows it's more like 5 or 6 decathalons while running a few marathons. Uphill. In the dark.

This whirlwind of parenting 3 very active, very talented, very DIFFERENT personality types of children, with very different needs, becomes even more interesting when you throw being a pastor's kid into the mix! So needless to say, there has been a lot we have learned, laughed at, cried over, and lived through!

A NEW SEASON

I mentioned surviving the infant reflux and pacifier withdrawals, didn't I? Well, this past weekend that little girl who used to keep us up all night, rocking, walking floors, going for midnight drives in the car and using kittens as bribes to take the "pappy" away, walked down the aisle on her daddy's arm, to be given away to another man. Thus thrusting us into a very new season of life as the parents of a married "child". I realized not long ago that I am now older than my mother was when my dad gave ME away! And my daughter, Jordan, is now older, at age 22, than I was when I gave birth to her at 21! 
This is a thrilling time for our family. We adore Ryan, the young man who was absolutely hand-picked by God as a perfect compliment to her! They are both in worship ministry together, and I love watching them laugh with each other. Their senses of humor will get them through many rough patches, I'm sure. 

As happy as we are about this blessed union, it has not come without some bittersweet moments and tears. It is such a strange thing to think
that the little one you held in your arms as a young, know-NOTHING, girl of 21, has grown into a woman who is ready to go her own way and start her own family. When I first looked into that little face 22 years and 9 months ago, I had no idea what was in store for my heart!! So many memories have flooded my mind lately, of red cowboy boots, toy horses with broken feet from some hard galloping, t-ball and softball games, tender-headed hair-brushing, pink slips for forgotten pencils, and agonizing over homework. I have been there for the high highs and the low lows. I have smiled smiles and cried tears she will never ever know about.

As the years passed, we never could have dreamed of the musical talent that would blossom, from those first years of pecking on the piano, to the first DRUM SET, to 6th grade saxophone playing ( Shut that door while you practice!! ), and to that first Takemine guitar on Christmas morning. There were months and months of practicing in a New York basement while watching every finger movement in those Steven Curtis Chapman videos. We knew early on that there was something there that God was going to use in a special way.

But what makes me most proud is seeing the passion and hunger for Christ that has grown in her heart. She is truly a seeker of God's will, having a heart for women in prison, for teaching, and for writing and performing music that touches people's souls, and very importantly displays her love for Him!

I have loved watching the special relationship she has with her dad, and seeing the transition from older sister who couldn't wait to get away from her little brother, to the older sister who can't wait to get home so they can hang out and drive us crazy with their jokes and laughter and Spongebob quote-athons! And she has been the most admired person ever for a baby brother who is 12 years younger than she is. His biggest thrill is when Big Sis comes home for a visit, and his deepest sorrow is when she leaves. That is really saying something of his love for her.

So how is it possible that this new season has come so quickly upon us? The years have flown by, but in other ways, it seems we have had her forever. In fact, she has been my daughter exactly HALF of my life! But as my husband reminded me when he was giving her away on Saturday, she was only on loan to us for a little while. She has been learning all her life to leave our nest and is now ready to fly on her own. Yes, it is bittersweet, but I know she is ready. Despite my mistakes and failures as the mom of a firstborn.   
  

 

There is a song that I used to know that tells us as parents to "hold on to the years"...A mom holds those precious years so closely, and there are some things that are not meant to be written down in blogs or on facebook, but we are to do as Mary did, just ponder them in our hearts. So as seasons come and go and continue to change, I say: Hold on to the years! The memories are precious and priceless treasures...And before you know it, the red cowboy boots become red wedding shoes. And they will be put away in her own closet, in her own home....With her husband's shoes beside them! 

"I wa-wa", Jordan Shea!!