When you bring your boys to play…

When you bring your boys to play, don’t apologize.

So many moms of boys apologize for the “what ifs.” And I have done it too… anticipated, apologized… for boys.

But when you bring your boys to play, don’t apologize for the noise. I know they will be loud, louder, LOUDEST!

When you bring your boys to play, don’t apologize for the wild and the crazy. I can dodge nerf bullets and peel sticky ninjas (clearly a toy invented by a man) from the ceiling.

When you bring your boys to play, don’t apologize for their table manners. I know they may talk with their mouths full, put their elbows on the table and even fart at dinner.

And the laughter, never apologize for the laughter – we want plenty of laughter (especially if they fart at dinner) and it will be LOUD.

But even in all this CRAZY, I will enjoy your boys, WILD, with my boy. As a boy with 2 sisters, he needs this brotherhood of boys. He needs the LOUD, the CRAZY and the FARTING. He needs the boys.

So bring your boys to play, mommas. And don’t apologize.

Palm Sunday

I recently began my annual read of Six Hours One Friday, by Max Lucado. For the last few years, it has served as a reminder for me, a reminder of the sacrifice made by Christ, a reminder of those hours spent on the cross, one Friday, on a hill in Calvary. This year, this Palm Sunday, I am reflecting on the week before the crucifixion. Jesus entered Jerusalem as a KING! “Hosanna to the Son of David!” the crowds shouted, laying down their cloaks to provide a Red Carpet welcome to the KING! But, Jesus knew what was coming and He knew it was coming soon. I can’t help but wonder how He felt at that moment, knowing those same voices that were shouting “Hosanna” today, would be shouting, “Crucify,” tomorrow?

Strong Women

May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.

Strength, dear daughters, comes in many forms.  As you grow, I hope you will appreciate your strength.  Never be ashamed of your physical strength – the strength that develops in your legs from the miles that you run or the hours that you dance.  Embrace that strength and try not to take if for granted, but remember that strength is so much more than the physical.  Strength is showing kindness even when it isn’t the popular thing to do.  Strength is speaking up when necessary, but also knowing when speaking your mind is more hurtful than helpful.  Strength is standing up for what you believe is right, but also admitting when you are wrong.  Strength is recognizing that you need help sometimes and not being afraid to ask for it.  Strength is trying.  Strength is failing.  Strength is trying again, even after you fail.  Strength is getting back up after you fall.  Strength is starting.  Strength is finishing.   Strength can be loud, but it can also be quiet.  Strength is believing in yourself, even when others doubt.  Strength is believing in others, even when they don’t believe in themselves.   

I am a runner.

I am a runner, since the age of 12, a runner.  
First, it was for sport and competition,
but soon it became something more, so much more.
And 3 decades later, it is still so much more.
There is a peace that comes from running.
While running, it is just me.
Only my feet pounding, my legs pumping, my lungs breathing,
my heart beating.
I am the machine, the means by which I travel.
I am these legs that carry me for miles.
I am these lungs that heave the heavy breaths.
I am this heart that beats, beats, beats...

He is…

He is the whisper in the wind.

He is THUNDER.

He is the cool breeze before the storm.

He is the rainbow after the rain.

He is pure joy, bringing giddiness and glee.

He is quiet comfort, bringing contentment and peace.

He is both infinitely big and infinitely small.

He is above all things and in all things.

He is awe and wonder to the brink of fear.

He is love and grace to the brink of heaven.

He is simultaneously the most powerful and the gentlest of spirits.

He is the alpha and the omega.

He is the beginning and the end.

He is GOD.

There is a Monster in this House!

There is a Monster in this House!

It’s scary, but it’s true, and when she’ll come, you have no clue.

But when she rears her ugly head, you’ll run and hide beneath your bed.

You’ll be as quiet as a mouse, you’ll whisper, “There’s a Monster in This House!”

But hiding does not keep you safe, she knows your every hiding place!

You see her when you comb your hair, she’s even sitting in your chair!

She glares at you and bares her teeth, all you hope for is relief.

You raise your voice, you stomp your feet, sometimes you just refuse to eat!

You bike, you run, you exercise, but monsters don’t care about your size.

You bang your head against the wall, but that just doesn’t help at all.

She follows you from here to there, that PESKY MONSTER’S EVERYWHERE!

You close your eyes and say a prayer, but when you’re done, she’s standing there!

Where do you go? What do you do? There’s NO ESCAPE! The Monster’s YOU!

Anybody else feel like the Monster in the House?