So let me be 100% sure I have gotten this completely right. I have won the victory. You have won it all for me. You are the risen King seated in majesty. All I must do is declare my lot and claim my crown. You would do all that for me?

Even when I forget whose I am you are on the battlefield striking down my enemies. When I dwell in darkness and fail to pray, you are the light upon my pathways. During those times I don't defend your name in open company it is you who covers me and keeps my name on your lips. You would do all that for me?

When I put my worship of you next to last busied with worldly work and devil's play, I only need to call your name and you will stand with me undeterred in your love for me. When I forget to say thank you and leave off amens along the way, rather than turn your back to me you reach out a hand toward me. You would do all that for me?

Hallelujah Jehovah! Praises go up to Thee. Though I have sinned and come short of the glory of God, you have found favor in me.  Never alone. Undeserving. Gifted. Covered. You have done all that and more for me.

How much better my life could be if only I kept you nearer to me. So much lost in what I lack all because I push you backI My only life lived out in fear, if only I listened and really hear.

Damn! Who in the universe decided to take away that one person I could tell anything to? That one person among all persons I could call anytime anywhere anytime to tell any thing. Who decided it was her time? Surely upon surely I was not invited to that decision. I was not ready to lose my BFF.

We did EVERYTHING together. From the vey time I "knew' who I was, I was that one with her. Her name was Carla. My fault, her name IS Carla, and she was my friend in the only life I know.

No one signs up for loss, but I found it in the most unbecoming of ways.  I found myself in Egypt with my husband Bob when that call came. Carla is sick. She was rushed to the hospital with a headache. She had two small children and a relatively new husband ...she is GONE. She died of a brain hemorrhage. How do you even spell hemorrhage? She went to the hospital on the 4th of July and never came home. How is that? Nothing like losing a best friend. Even your bones cry.

I did everything with Carla. We first met in high school. If I was not at her house she was at my house. Heck she was at my house when I wasn't at my house. We spent our days growing up trading stories about boys, leaving Utah one day, everything. She visited me at college in DC. She attended my wedding and I hers. We knew each other's thoughts unspoken. Once when I was home with my tonsils out Carla came running into my house crying. She had fallen in front of the entire high school while trying out for cheerleading. She was mortified. Barely able to speak, I consoled Carla with my eyes and hugs. Before long we were both laughing our guts out. That was my Carla.

Carla I loved! The sort of girlfriend love that comes around once. We used to listen to my one Stephanie Mills 8 track tape about a 1,000 times a month. We wore that thing out. Every time we listened to it, it was like the first time we were hearing it. Everyone around us thought we were crazy. We could have cared less.

We rode bikes together all over town. We danced at the clubs too. We dressed in identical outfits.  She fought a boy once because he was mean to me. My girl Carla was the real deal. We talked of growing old together, living in the same city, watching our children grow up. But my Carla went to the hospital with a headache and never came home.

The last time I spoke to her she made me promise to go on a ladies cruise with her and her church. Of course I will I told her. She said okay I am paying your deposit. Neither of us would take that cruise. My BFF went to the hospital with a headache and never came home.


LIVE YOUR AWESOME LIFE

When a dream gets in you, unless you dream a bigger dream to nudge the lesser dream out of the way....your dream becomes you. When I met my handsome husband over  two decades ago he taught me how to dream big. From an early age he wanted to be a navy pilot. He could have been one too except a medical diagnosis ended that dream for him. A small clotting issue nixed the dream in its very steps. He would never get his wings. The boy turned man would have to dream on and so he did.

I learned that dreams don't go away completely. They often come back disguised in another form. You see our son has often talked of becoming a pilot. Same as his dad, dreaming big, special, stick-with-you kind of dreams. I think this is God's soft kiss on the cheek saying, "I haven't forgotten you." Whether or not our young son grows up to be a pilot or not is really not the point. The point is he's been taught it is completely okay to dream big special dreams.

When I see my husband today I sometimes imagine him all dressed up in uniform. I envision all the stripes and medals. The hat with the spit shine black brim and charcoal black shoes you can eat off. I can picture it all. And yes that mighty salute.

I think my 50 year old pilot would have been the finest navy pilot ever to fly. I know he would have soared. He certainly has caused my life to soar and has allowed me to dream really big dreams come true.

In a word...because it was time, I was beginning to feel upside down. So it was time that I took some time away for me, just me. I was not running away from anything. I was running toward my exhale. Yes my exhale. When you live your life living at 100%, eventually you will crave, do anything, to run just awhile at 10%. And on that note....I ran away from home, with permission.


I had this inside unquenchable desire and need to be topped off again. I make no apologies for that need. So if I need a minute and if I take a minute just for me....then so be it and good for me right? And thank you my loving family for making room for me to do just that. The kids said have at it! The dog started whimpering the moment he saw my luggage in the hallway. The hubby said, enjoy yourself and be safe. My response, "Honey I made dinners for you, all you have to do is heat them up."

So I ran off to my new adventure, carved out for me. To God be the glory. It took me nearly 25 years to do it, but heck, NIKE told me first JUST DO IT! And me and mine are so much better for it.

What I have learned is this.....Women we need to take better care of ourselves. There are so many of "them" counting on us. We can give so much more of ourselves when we feel our 100% to give. So pack and go! Pack and go! And don't wait a quarter century to JUST DO IT!  

I will stay up all night with the sick child on my chest, rocking, singing, talking, consoling. No quarrel and no outward regret. I will be the supreme "free" mom taxi taking the children to and fro, while not texting and driving, even though deep inside I think I could handle it. I will stop everything that I am doing even if what I am doing makes what "we" are doing possible. I will, I have, I will again.

No child chooses his parents. If they did, maybe, just maybe with hope and a prayer, they would still choose us.

I will give them benefit of the doubt though I know beyond knowing, because I birthed that child, the very deception of their statement even before they formed the first noun behind the lie. I will pretend this once I am completely naïve, just long enough to allow their guilt to overtake them. They will as the story goes "confess" the altered truth in time, their time.

I will love my children even during those times even biblically they are acting completely unlovable. The one and only time (as I did with my mother) they fix their hormonal lips to tell me they "hate" me, mostly for the effect versus the candor, I will stand stoic. I will not retaliate. I will retire to my room get in my booger to the chin cry and remember back to the one and only time I fixed my lips to say that to my parent. Then after awhile, I will emerge from my room retreat to the kitchen and cut potatoes into perfect fry wedges and call out "French fries" as if nothing ever happened. I will do this for one reason and one reason only. Because that is what I signed up for.

Parenting is not for the meager. It is completely formulated without a formula for those totally committed to creating beautiful human beings, kind of parent. And that is what you signed up for.

And so to my children I say this. When that time comes, I will tell you I like that new boyfriend or girlfriend. I will reach way down into my mommy reserve to find that one redeeming quality to like about him or her in order to keep you coming to me. I know if I run him or her off....you may very well run off with him or her. I am not willing to trade what I have built for what in an instant you define as your everything. So yes I will bite my lip down to the white meat of silence. Because that is what I signed up for.

I signed up to love you always and forevermore. I signed up to mold and shape your character. To correct your incorrigible ways and right your crooked self-destruction. I signed up to be there for you even when you push me back.

I signed up and with my heart signature know that I would not trade being your mom for anything!

Signed, mom.

I have never dreamed a dream of spending my life alone without a companion. It was interesting to me growing up that after my parents divorced, my mother never remarried, never even came close. I always thought it was her guilt for having left my dad when he was so in love with her. But as are most things, it was of course much deeper and much more complicated than that.

How I asked could she not want to be married? Women grow up to meet that prince put our spell on him and ride away on the white horse. Some women it seems grow into being okay with being without that marriage certificate. That was my mother. She lived with the same man for more than a decade, Chuck was his name. They were in love too. Best friends even. They never married. And they passed away within a year of one another. Love sick, I told myself when he died.

I wonder though was she quietly, secretly, even unknowingly holding out for something, someone better? Was she waiting for superman?

I have been married 22 years and personally have never used as weaponry the "D" word. When that word comes out to play there is no reset button. No putting that paste back in the tube as they say.  That is the number two reason I won't play it. The number one reason is I have never wanted to use it. I have however had tendencies toward holding back waiting for things to change. Stubbornly and knowingly behaving unlovable for periods of time. And during this time going inside myself, waiting for superman.

Can I tell you something? This posture has completely gotten me exactly nowhere every time. I want all young women out there to know if you love him tell him. If you want him show him. If you truly want to be with him forever then never STOP being his EVER. And never leave him with the feeling that you are waiting for superman.

My mom used to tell me, "Remember a man will leave you while being completely head over heels in love with you if he feels you don't respect him." Men do not want to be made to feel that they are not good enough or enough for the woman they love. They want to be your superman.

I have heard this statement all of my life. When I was young if I was forbidden from doing something or having something I would hear, "Well according to the word.....".

When I got older I listened to people use this phrase to obtain something or rid themselves of something, "Well according to the word.....".

Now as a wife and mother of two children, admittedly on occasion I have found myself using the same five words, usually to coerce someone over to my point of view. "Well according to the word Jesus said, or Jesus instructed us to or Jesus forbade....".

Color me crazy but wouldn't it be much simpler if we "according to the word" obeyed all scripture rather than conveniently choose to edify select scripture that serves our means? According to the word that is.

Psalm 119:1-176 ESV         

Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord! Blessed are those who keep his testimonies, who seek him with their whole heart, who also do no wrong, but walk in his ways! You have commanded your precepts to be kept diligently. Oh that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes!

How do you present yourself to others? Are you consistent or do you keep people guessing? What messages do you want others to get from your presentation of you? When others stand just in front of you what do you hope they see? Are you able to reflect on the inside what you show off on the outside. Or are you dressing up and covering up?

Each of us have our individual ways we introduce ourselves to the world. For instance, I work really hard at being very fair in the way I treat other people. I love when people tell me I am funny, something else I like sharing about myself. It really pleases me when I am told I am smart and organized, two more characteristics  I have worked hard to achieve.

I don't like being mischaracterized but that happens too. Once someone spread a story about me doing something I had not done. She went on to say I was a liar, not dishonest, but a liar. Well because I have worked so long at both creating my curb appeal and aligning my outside with my inside, this mischaracterization of me cost us our relationship.

I forgave this unfortunate behavior without ever being asked for my forgiveness. Then I immediately added "willingness to forgive" to my curb appeal.

I see other's authentic curb appeal as those actions, deeds, thoughts, emotions, ideas, values, and convictions they exude not when they are alone but also when they are in the center of town square. That curb appeal is their invitation to what lies deep inside them. That real stuff within.

I love to invest my time with those whose lasting curb appeal matches perfectly with their inside stuff.

Wake up my beautiful sister. Step out into the light. Allow the freshness of your realness to rain down on you. Stop ducking just out of sight of your truth. Be for real with yourself about the walls around you.

If he does not tell you he loves you, chances are he does not love you enough. If you are being told "I love you too.", more than "I love you.", that should cause a hiccup in your spirit.

If your joy comes around like a sputtering faucet and connecting has been redefined as texting within the same house, you have been sent the real message. Love does not live here anymore.

If your best times together can best be described by who else was with you, somewhere along the way your love road took a sharp left turn toward a very steep cliff side.

If you are alone together and the look in his eyes says, "We are just hanging on." , he likely already let go.

You know that feeling, all women do. The feeling inside you that speaks, "He's not mad about me. He's mad at me."

Now tell yourself, it does not have to be this way. Don't step back. Move forward. Somebody had to say it. And if you still love him....Fix it.

If there is a rainstorm in your life and all around you clusters of dark heavy clouds, it's okay. Really, it is okay. There are times for each of us where no matter how hard we try a heaviness may fall upon us creating a blanket of murky waters. With each step we take, we feel the thick uneasiness of our days. We try to wipe away the fog that gathers at our window, peering through looking for the slightest hint of a sunbeam. We wipe and wait, wipe and wait and wait. The thick dew remains a constant reminder that all does not feel okay. Not by a long shot. Try as I might, I can't lift that window pane. It is stuck and I feel trapped inside.

I wish I had a genie who came in a bottle. Three wishes. That's all I need, I say. Three not so big wishes. Genies are make believe I remind myself.

I wish I had a lucky rabbit's foot. The small soft pink kind. That's all I need. One small fluffy rabbit's foot to carry with me always.

I wish I had a four leaf clover with no brown edges. The really lucky kind.

The next time I am feeling blue and all around me I see happy face scenes moving about without me in them, I will tell myself, "It is okay even if at this moment it does not feel totally okay."

And then I shall create my own scene. This scene. I will myself to that window while silently cursing the fog that has settled on it. I ignore it, refusing to lay my beautiful hands any where near it. I look past the fog straight into the mosaic courtyard of my life. I demand to see sunshine. I call forth the sunbeams, pushing aside the heavy murk. I step aside into the clearing.

Now I stand there in a scene of my making, I throw my hands into the air, throw back my weightless head, puff out my mighty chest, close my radiant eyes and I yell upward from within my beautiful self, "Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you!!! I need look no further than here."

I really made a scene.