So sorry that you were sick.

A stuffy nose and an achey body are often a winter reason for missing school.  My usually ambitious scholastic young man, says, mom, I am sick.  Can't go to school.  I say Okay.  I don't question, when it is such a rarity.
We sometimes say, don't you want to take off today and you say, no way!
I love that spirit.
I would be on the train with piles of snow shaking the bridge.
One day, I was on the J train on the Brooklyn Bridge and the people were shoveling the tracks as we were going through.  The bridge was shaking so hard, I thought it was going to collapse, with all of us on it.  That is the New York ambition.  North Carolina submits to the providence of God, in humility.  It is to say, God you are the boss and you called a time out and we gladly take the time to look at what is at home that we must work on.  I love learning that.
I missed so much of what was happening at home, while I was chasing the Brooklyn Bridge.  You can't bring those days back.
Feel better!

Ethan is not a baby. I know.

We got through the hair, yesterday. Tangles are no fun. You are handsome with your long locks or dreds when we don't get to comb through the hair. Your style is your own. You are expressing yourself in your hair and we all have to go through these seasons. Expressing ourselves is a human wonder. Everybody is an individual and if you give freedom to others to be themselves, people will be able to grow through knowing you.

All I remember is my hair being a source of contention between me and Ruth. She ridiculed and ridiculed and despised me and my hair, I thought. We reconciled, before the end. I sat at her bedside, feeding her water and she said, "remember when you wouldn't come in my house?" I said yes. I was feeding water to her, now and it was over. Our love was over and our hate was over. Don't do that to people. Make a mountain out of a molehill. Hair is hair and it will grow or not grow, as the case may be.

Be who you are and let others be who they are.

Remembering the Christmas Pageant 2015

Thank you Sister Norris, for directing.

Learning to negotiate the conflicts

Conflicts never cease in a large family. How do we stay in communication with each other, when we are so often getting on each other's nerves? I am grateful to have found this letter from my sweet sensitive teen, from some conflict or other, I cannot recall which. It means that you are understanding the things that the Lord loves as well as the things the Lord hates! Love you!

Did you really ask me that?

God's Boys will be good boys!

What, my son? What, son of my womb? What, son of my vows?

Fewer questions and more determinations. Late teen's are a season of, "I'm not going to do it that way." It looks like to me. How do you stay respectful to your parents when your mind is taking their deeds apart and weighing them as to their validity in your life, long-term. It is hard! I love you mom, but what you are saying is not valid to this point...Sometimes that is the case.

Sometimes mom is talking to her little fellow, on the knee and you are a man. Sometimes mom is just gabbing to her rambunctious jumping bean and you are a settled man. I didn't ask you that, mother? I know you didn't. Just humor my answering the questions that are unasked, son. It is a habit and I love you and sometimes it is just mother talk. Keep weighing our validity and make your determinations and become a better man for it.

Happy New Year!

How Grateful I am for you, in my life!!!

I played the saddest song when you came down the steps, this morning. I couldn't see outside of grief, when I chose that song for my baby's funeral, but I was taught to praise God in suffering. I was taught to hold my tongue from questioning God's providence. So I did. I still loved God, but so many questions remain in my soul to this day.
God restores. God gave me you! God blessed my prayers. God is still in the healing process of my wounds. I am sure that I will see the full fruition of my condition, when I get to heaven, but right now, still in a mummilike state I walk around taking off some of the grave clothes of a heavy soul, who lost her first son to the grave. God is still speaking His comforts to me and personally tearing my wrappings off of my soul. In the meantime, I have you and your brothers and sisters, on earth to comfort me. I love you!

Where are you Christmas?

Does maturity mean that Christmas, no longer brings that twinkle to your eyes? I don't think so.

Santa is for babies, you said.

We have to find a way to get you excited about giving and not just getting. Aunt Sharon found Ezra's sweet spot on that order and we must use that giving seed for him. We must find yours. God give us grace. Amen.