Mary, Frosty, and Snow Holes

Yes, it's May . . . but at Rocky Mountain National Park it's still a winter wonderland as Mary DeMuth and I discovered last week. She and I needed a mountain fix and decided to do a little hiking before the Colorado Christian Writer's Conference where she taught and offered the Friday night address, and I gave morning devotions.

My husband warned me that my favorite trail was still snowed in, but I can be determined. I told him I had my hiking boots and we'd be fine. The thing is, most people who tried the trail were smart enough to use snow-shoes. Mary's tennis shoes and my hiking boots were no match for the terrain.

We fell through the snow multiple times, which is really weird because you never know when the packed trail will suddenly give way. This picture shows the deepest hole--to my thigh. As you can tell, no damage was done.

Mary, who runs a couple of miles every day had no sore muscles after our little excursion, while my legs felt like jello all afternoon! But the experience was worth every sore muscle that haunted me for the rest of the day. The views were breath-taking, the exercise invigorating, and the company priceless. I'll never forget huffing and puffing through the snow-clad trees telling our "this is how I met and married my husband" stories. We both have quite a tale!

When we finally gave up and headed back to the car, we met a cold-hearted man, whose demeanor melted and turned quite friendly when Mary hugged him good bye.

You know, I'm always blown away by the friendships God has given me. A few years ago things were shaken up in my friend circle and I grieved off and on for at least two years. Even as I grieved, God was bringing new friends in to my world. Some of them are face-to-face and live close by. Others, like Mary, live far away. She's in Texas now, but when we first met was headed to France to plant a church. It amazes me that Mary and I go months, or even a year, without seeing each other or even talking, but when we get together it just feels happy, safe, and right.

I greatly admire Mary and consider her one of the most courageous writers I know. Her novels, Watching the Tree Limbs and Wishing on Dandelions, are deep and redemptive, and her non-fictions books vulnerable and wise. You can read my interview with her about Wishing on Dandelions, her second novel, here and my interview with her about Building the Christian Family You Never Had, my favorite of her non-fiction works, here.

Prom

Those gorgeous kiddos are my oldest children, all dressed up for Seth's first prom. In so many ways it was a milestone for them and I'm enjoying the memories:

Seth's willingness to wear a suit--it was the first time since he was about four that he didn't whine about tucking in his shirt. He and I picked the suit out, and he paid for most of it himself. He also escorted a young woman to prom and insisted on paying for everything, though they were going as friends, not as a "date." Seth stepped out of his shyness and determined to show the girl a good time, even though it meant doing things he thought he didn't like--like dancing. I was proud of his determination to put her needs before his comfort zone and the selfless way he spent his own money on her tickets, corsage, and pictures, though it meant giving up several weeks pay. I also loved the way his character, wisdom, and self-confidence showed. He knew a lot of guys would rent tuxes, but told me that he thought it was silly to spend that much on something he'd only wear once. He chose instead to invest in his future by buying a nice suit that he could wear again. He found a beautiful, name-brand suit at a wonderful price and picked a red tie to match the girl's dress. His logic and frugality reminded me of his dad, and I was proud of him.

Sarah's delight in the whole thing--it was the first time she had an escort to the prom who wasn't related to her. (Her sweet daddy took her the first year.) Her escort was a true gentleman. Though they had chosen to go to the prom as friends, he wouldn't hear of going dutch and instead generously bought Sarah's prom ticket and a beautiful corsage, as well as paying for their transportation in a chartered vehicle. It was Sarah's first taste of this world, and the young man did it up right, making her feel like a princess. She proudly wore the dress she and her dad picked out at a fund raiser for the Children's Hospital. People from all over the metro area donated prom dresses--over 2,000 of them--and sold them to high schoolers for prom. I had planned to take Sarah to shop, but was sick that day. It turned out to be a special time for Sarah and her dad, and both of them came home glowing. Sarah found a beautiful dress at a more than reasonable price and had the satisfaction of putting her money toward a worthy cause.

The joy of feeling good about the event--the prom was sponsored by our homeschool group, well supervised, and beautifully presented. The kids ate a top-notch catered meal, white tablecloths not withheld, enjoyed a night of dancing (under the careful eyes of parents who insisted upon proper space between partners during slow dances), and then had fun and games at an after prom party. A friend and I talked about how this event differed from the proms of our public high school days, when many of the teens spent their prom nights chasing after less wholesome activities. I felt intense gratitude to the umbrella school and the parent volunteers who did what they could to offer my children such a delightful experience, and to give me peace of mind. I didn't worry about them a single minute, just watched them shine and beamed along with them.

Megan DiMaria and Searching for Spice

See this gorgeous woman? It's my friend, Megan DiMaria. We first met in a writer's workshop taught by novelist and teacher extraordinaire, Angela Hunt. Little did I know that that brief encounter would eventually blossom into something really beautiful. Over the following years our friendship deepened as we joined the American Christian Fiction Writers and spent more time together at Conferences and in the local chapter meetings.

My very favorite memory of Megan is the night the two of us slipped off from the rest of the world, went out to eat, then spent hours in her hotel room sharing our life stories. Hers blew me away. She is truly an example of how the Lord chases after those He has called. She and her husband found a relationship with Jesus when they called an 800 number and talked with a phone counselor! The really cool thing about their story is since they didn't know other Christians and didn't have a church, their early Christian discipleship was completely led by the Holy Spirit. She told me sometimes she and her husband would have a question about living the way God would want and talk about it, then the next day they'd awaken to a strange word, like "Galatians" running through their minds. They'd discover the word was actually a book in the Bible, start reading, and find the answer to the question they'd asked. Isn't that amazing?

My second favorite memory of Megan is the joy of watching her journey into publication. Megan has contagious energy and humor and her delight lights up the whole room. Her circle of friends couldn't help but enter the glow of her joy. It has been incredible to celebrate with her the release of her first book, Searching for Spice. (By the way, I noticed a contest for a free copy of her blog.)

As you would expect from knowing Megan, the book is delightful, filled with humor and energy, but underneath the fun is rock solid truth. You'll love the middle-aged heroine, Linda, who decides it's time to spice up her marriage and rediscover a little romance with her salt of the earth husband. You'll chuckle as she tries trick after trick to add spice to her marriage, while her husband just doesn't GET it. But don't think the hubby character is clueless. He understands love in a way that shows the servant heart of Christ, the honoring of commitment, and devotion to his wife (even if he totally misses some of her flowers and lace overtures).

This book is perhaps especially close to my heart because I saw glimpses of myself (the romantic) in Megan's heroine and snapshots of my own husband (true-blue and logical) in the male counterpart. What really threw me is her character is named Jerry. Now she'd never met my husband when the book was penned, but last fall Megan and I flew together to a writer's conference. Our husbands dropped us off and kissed us goodbye, and I introduced Megan to my Jerry. She was floored because he LOOKED like the character she'd seen in her mind as she wrote!

Now if you read the book, don't assume you've met my Jerry. There are some obvious differences. The book Jerry loves handyman work--like knocking Sheetrock off the walls of his garage. Honestly, I can't think of much my Jerry dislikes more than fixer-upper projects. And while I instantly liked her book Jerry, my real Jerry still holds my heart as well as a few secrets of his own.

But back to fiction! As you enter further into Jerry and Linda's world, you get to see the stuff the Linda's husband is really made of--qualities like integrity, courage, and honesty. Life gets really difficult for them as they deal with a mistake made by their teenage daughter that jeopardizes the whole family system. In the end, Linda comes to understand that some things are more important than candlelit dinners. She may have thought her knight's armor was a little rusty, but truth be told, it's still shinning.

Take my advice and pick up Megan's debut novel, Searching for Spice. Your day will get a lift as you laugh at her heroine's antics, and by the end I wouldn't be surprised if you love your husband just a little bit more. And keep an eye out for its sequel, Out of Her Hands, which releases in October.

Golden Moment

Sometimes I'm afraid to post golden moments with my kids because they seem too good to be true. I fear that people will get the wrong idea about us--that we're some kind of perfect little homeschooling family who never struggles, whose children are always angels. And since no family is perfect, but we tend to think the OTHER family is, then sharing a golden moment might actually discourage some mom who needed the opposite.

But we all have those golden moments, even though there are times they are too far between, and I think we should celebrate together.

So here's the thing. I had a golden moment this weekend with one of my children. I'm telling you, it was the kind of thing a mom longs for and doesn't get to experience very often. I'm going to share it but remember: This child is normal. Stephen is a precious kid, but also has angry times, ungrateful attitudes, and argumentative moments. But, like any child, once in a while he gives me a golden moment as he did this weekend, the weekend he turned twelve.

I agreed to a birthday party with ten boys. I not only agreed to that, but I agreed to let it last almost 24 hours, starting with an air soft gun game in a field, continuing to pizza, ice cream and movies, and turning into a sleep-over. After that, part of the kids even stayed through the morning and attended church with us. So it was a LONG party. I tried to talk my son out of so many kids or such long hours a couple of times, but I could tell this was really important to him. He was growing up and wanting to stretch into something bigger.

He also requested I not require the boys to go to bed too early. He felt that we were more strict than other homes on bedtimes at sleepovers, and that he was old enough to be allowed to stay up as late as he wanted for this special occasion.

We gave him all his requests. The party started Saturday afternoon and the last friend didn't leave until late Sunday afternoon. They had a blast. Every kid was included in shooting air soft guns, jumping on the trampoline, playing the "scare" game (a family invention that includes turning off the lights and making lots of noise), eating, playing video games, and watching movies.

Sunday night after it was all over, I sat at my new desk in the living room working on my laptop. Stephen slipped into the recliner next to me. He looked up at me with those baby blues so like his dad's and said, "Thanks, Mom. I'm a blessed kid. And I'm not just blessed because of the party. I'm blessed because I have good parents, and good friends, and a good family."

I smiled at him and received his kindness, then reminded him who the giver of all good things is. He looked toward the ceiling and said, "Yes. And thank you, God. Thank you for all your blessings."

After that Stephen sat quietly in the darkened room, the lamp next to him shining upon his lap as he read his Bible (something he just chose to do on his own). Then, with a quick kiss on my check, he disappeared to his room for the night.

I'll hang onto that golden moment for a long time. Maybe forever.

$2.00 Blessing

I received the greatest email from a friend in TX this week, Lue Ann. She had an experience in the parking look of a drug store that reminded me of how much God cares about the little things in our life. I received this story from her at just the right time, when I needed one of those reminders. She calls her story the $2.00 Blessing and told me I could share it here.

The $2.00 Blessing

By Lue Ann Pundt

Often as we go through our day to day lives we aren’t thinking about what blessings lay just around the corner or in this case in the parking lot of the drug store.

I was on my way home from work on a Monday evening a couple of weeks ago, I knew that I had my Spanish class so I needed to hurry; I had stopped at the grocery store for a couple of items for dinner. Upon leaving the parking lot I realized that I had forgotten to pick up some Benedryl so I made a quick decision to pull into the drug store and run in real quick. I decided to pull completely through one parking space and into another making it easier to leave.

It had just started to rain, as I was walking towards the store, I noticed 2 $1.00 bills lying on the ground in the parking space I had just drove through. I thought that it was odd; I certainly didn’t see them as I drove over them. I picked up the bills then I lifted my eyes to the Lord and said “Thank You Lord, that was a nice surprise” “did you just drop them from Heaven for me?” I put them into my purse and continued on into the drug store for the Benedryl.

I paid for my stuff and left, as I was hurrying to my car I was thinking that I didn’t have much time left when a woman’s voice caught my attention. I stopped and looked up to see a nicely dressed lady walking towards me with a very worried look on her face.

This is what she said to me:

“Please maam I’m not a beggar but my car broke down just up the road a ways and I live on the north side my husband can’t come and get me for 4 hours, and I have no cash and I don’t want to stand out here in the rain or stand in the drug store for hours, I have asked several other people but no one will help me. All I need is $2.00 to take the bus home and then my husband can come back this evening and get my car”.

Immediately I took the $2.00 out of my purse and handed it to her, I told her about how I came to have the $2.00 in my possession as I had no other cash on me. I prayed for her, (her name is Linda), and I gave her a hug and told her good by and sent her on her way. Then I once again looked up to Heaven, It seemed as if time was standing still while the rain danced on my face. I felt as if I was in the presence of my Lord for those couple of minutes. I Thanked Him for such an awesome opportunity. Then when I opened my eyes I was back in the real world getting wet, I got into my Explorer and drove home. Only this time I had a glow within my Heart!

We never know as we go through this life when we might be used by our Savoir to be a blessing to others.

Thank you again Jesus for choosing to use 2 $1.00 bills and me to be a blessing!

I've Always Wondered

Why do I drool when I nap, but never seem to at night during my normal sleeping hours?

How Beautiful

Raw from the battle which raged around me the last several days (especially on Monday) I slipped into bed early last night and put on an old stand-by video, Sense and Sensibility. About half-way through it my Sam, who is ten, plopped on the side of my bed and said, "How do you pause the movie? I want to pray for you."

It's a little thing he does sometimes. I usually tuck my little boys in and pray for them, but once in a while, when I'm especially tired, I'll turn in first. When I do, Sam often comes, kisses me four times: once on my forehead, then both cheeks, and finishing by planting one on my nose; and then prays for me.

Last night I felt a blanket of love flow over me as he prayed, "and Lord, please help mommy to be encouraged to write because she has a great imagination and is a good writer. Help her to still write and not give up."

His prayer joined with yours and the prayers of the saints who God called to pray for me. God used all that painful stuff on Monday to give me increased passion and COMPASSION for those attending the retreat where I will teach soon. I awoke today to the sweet Voice of Truth instead of the barrage of lies from the enemy and as I read my Bible this morning, His Word leapt off the page, affirming me and pointing out the promises and truth I will soon teach.

Oh how beautiful.