the workout

Watching Zumba.

Feel the burn...

Should probably try it sometime.

Being Tested

I am the proud mother of a child with Asperger's Autism.

Maddisson Brooke is 18 and amazing.

And just in case someone wasn't sure...

we now have the test to prove it.

Maddisson is bright and funny and precious.

School has not been easy.

The neuro doc said that it is like a computer,

and the hard drive works fine, 

but the keyboard is messed up.

So if you punch in Y E S

you might get X Y L,

and then she has to figure out the information the world has handed her in jumbled form.

So as a senior this year, 

we had to face the big question...

what will she do after school?

She decided, against all odds, that she would like to attend college,

and have those same experiences her friends were all talking about.

But that required something huge.

PASS THE A.C.T.

Walking in faith,

we began an intensive six week study of math, science, reading and all things A.C.T.

It was beyond hard.

I felt every fear, every struggle, every harsh word ever said to her

as I watched this young girl study...

and I knew this one test would verify everything in her mind.

I wrote a number, the score we needed, on a piece of paper and placed it under my pillow.

I touched it every night.

I prayed.

and prayed.

and prayed.

This morning, we got the results.

She passed.

She earned the exact number needed.

She is going to college.

And she proved to herself, 

more than anyone else, 

because we already knew....

She Is Capable.

Look out world!

Here comes Maddi B!

"I Can Do All Things Through Christ Who Strengthens Me"

Philippians 4:13

Thank you Lord Jesus,

for loving my child

even more than I do....

and allowing me to grow in faith through her.

Thank you for allowing me to be her mother.

Thank you for allowing me to share in her life.

And thank you for giving her this opportunity,

wherever it may lead.

I don't know what You have planned for her life,

but I know that she walks in faith

and loves you with all her heart.

Amen

Blessings!         

Waffles on a Rainy Day

The girls were in the kitchen, all three making waffles.  

It was late afternoon and kinda icky weather and the perfect time to get in the kitchen and play.  

I love these moments.

It wasn't long after they had scarfed down the afternoon treats when we heard the loud noise...  

and then the scream.  

Charlee Kate was lying in the living room floor. 

When Jeff scooped her up, we saw the blood and all of my nurse training went out the window 

as my Mama Bear came surging through.

It was bad.  

She had bitten through the lip, knocked a tooth 

and her chin was already swollen and turning colors before my eyes.  

She was pitiful.

It took most of the evening to get her calmed down and back into life.  Lots of popsicles.

Finally, I was able to convince her to tell me what had happened...  

and promise that no matter what, mama would not be mad. 

Through swollen, bloody lips, she explained.

"Well, I was trying to be a Super Hero and do a Super Hero Kick with my legs in the air, 

but they got all tangled up and I fell on my face."

The love I felt at that moment for that little girl physically hurt my heart.  

And I giggled at her sweet words, to which she said, "You're not mad, you're happy at me!"

No cape needed.  She is my Super Hero.

Blessings!

True Confessions: I Bounced A Check To God

  Any woman can tell you how hard it is to balance the family budget. 

Some of the silliest things just seem to keep cropping up and stealing away your hard earned dollars. Utility bills, gas for the car, and oh my goodness, didn't I just feed those kids yesterday???  It never ends....

Still, as you can see, I have a tender and loving heart. 

And so when it is Easter Sunday, and the music is playing and the kids are dressed up and the message is powerful, it only makes sense that I would feel compelled to give an offering.  And no, not just a weekly tithe.  The girls are wearing patent leather shoes and fancy hats, for goodness sake!  No, I mean, a true offering from my heart. 

As I sat there, in the pew, with my precious little family, I was just so thankful for all that my Lord had done, and was doing, and was going to do in our lives.  Times had been hard.  They still were. 

But in that moment, I could recount millions of examples where God had been right in the hard times with me.  I could tell you how he sent the perfect person at the perfect time to help with the kids.  I could share with you the day I had to make a payment, and found an old lost check for the exact amount we needed.  I could even recount the exact words of the stranger who stopped me in a parking lot to tell me that God had heard my prayers, and used the exact words I had spoken the night before on bended knee. 

Yes, God is good, all the time.  And all the time, God is good.

My heart swelled inside my chest as tears rolled down my cheeks.

It was Easter.  It was a time of celebration and rejoicing.  And it was time to rise up and walk in faith....   so I did.  I pulled out my checkbook, and I emptied our account.  It was a beautiful thing.  A complete submission to His will and to His ways. Take all that You have given me, Lord, and use it for your glory.

It bounced.

Did you hear me?  The check.  It bounced.  Didn't clear.  Returned.  Non-Sufficient Funds. 

I bounced a check to God.

Can you even imagine? 

I did it and I can't imagine it.  

I've never heard of such.  

Especially in the south...  we have traditions and bouncing checks to our Heavenly Father is NOT one of them, bless her heart.  It just can't be.  And yet, it was.  I bounced a check to God.

I don't know exactly what made me call the automated bank system, but I could hardly breathe as I sat and listened to the horrible news.  It wasn't there.  The money might have been there at some point, but rest assured, it was gone now.  I don't know. I guess I did pick up a few groceries and did I fill up the car?  What bills had I paid?  And slowly, but surely, the reality began to sink in.

I am going to assume here that you have not shared in this experience with me.  If you have, please write and let me know I am not alone!  

First, fully aware that my priorities may be a little off, I can't help but imagine the church staff as they deposit the Easter offering (Yea!) and then receive my check back (Boo!). I am mortified.  My face is red and hot and my stomach has somehow managed to move right up through my chest and into my throat.

But then the true horror begins to reveal itself in my heart. I had once again let my Savior down.  My sweet, sweet Jesus who has done so much for me, and I can do nothing for Him. I am not even a good enough steward of His blessings to give them back.  A thousand scenarios played in my mind.  The hungry people who would not be fed...  The cold children with no coats...  The missionary who receives nothing in lands far away... because I had bounced a check to God.

I couldn't escape it.  Even the words sounded earthly and pitiful and irresponsible.  But there it was.  The facts did not lie.  And so I cried and I prayed and I think I promised a whole, whole, whole lot of things about being responsible from that point on, no matter what.  

I crawled back to the cross, empty handed and overdrawn.

And then my Lord did something amazing.  

No, he didn't zap the money into my account or drop a huge inheritance in my box, although that would have been very cool.  Nope.  My Lord used my hand written, no good, not worth the paper it was written on check to bring grace into my life, and glory to Him.

Can you imagine?  

I was sick and shaking as I walked into that church office to explain just why they would not be able to use my offering and save the world.  But they giggled!  They understood.  They shared their own struggles along the way and were thrilled at the idea of a smaller offering and an offer to join in ministry.  Glory to God, I was no longer that quiet lady on the fifth row, that always came and went quickly with a polite smile.  I was Heather.  I was human.  I was flawed.  And I was forgiven.

Through that check, I learned that 

God needs nothing from me, but He desires all of me.  

And the exact same grateful heart that lead me to write that check, now leads me to offer myself, my life, and all of my perfect imperfections, for His purpose. I am yours.

My bank might tell you that I have non-sufficient funds.  But my Lord will tell you otherwise.

Blessings!

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 

NIV  2011.

Buttons, Spools and Bobbins - the Unedited Verson

My dad taught me many things...  
like how to read, how to tie my shoes with bunny ears, and how to drive a stick shift.  
Great, useful and wonderful things.

But dad did not teach me  how to cook or how to sew.

Although a man of many, many accomplishments, these skills had somehow managed to escape his radar.

So I was often in awe of the other wives and mothers who seemed so handy in these areas.  Homemade this and handmade that left me feeling inadequate as a woman.  I could offer little more than spaghetti sauce from a jar and the occasional stab at a school costume, which typically resulted in screaming and kicking children.  I needed help.

Once, I did attempt to sew something.  I was expecting my third child, Maddisson Brooke, and I decided it would be a wonderful time to use those nesting hormones and make myself some maternity clothes.  So, I asked for a sewing machine at Christmas and set off to buy a pattern and fabric.  Just being in that department was a thrill!

The excitement continued as I pulled the machine from the box and set off to figuring out each button, spool and bobbin.  My imagination was full of the gorgeous garments I would be creating, not just for me, but for the entire family.  This was going to be fun!

Steadily, with the determination of Noah building the ark, I began my work.  I laid out the pattern and I pinned the fabric and worked all through the days and long into the nights.  It was more than a maternity shirt.  It was a badge of honor.  It was proof that I could pass a home-ec course.  It was my initiation into the exclusive club of Suzie Homemakers, a group that had never even considered me as a possible candidate.

 I put those awful coffee- can- wrapped- in- construction- paper- with- a- sweat- suit-and- attached- sock- tail-  that was supposed to look just like the other kids "Cat in the Hat" costume behind me as I pushed that pedal and seamed my way into the fashion world.  Look out!  Here I come!

The big day finally came, and I was so excited that I gathered everyone to sit and wait for the big reveal.  I ran upstairs and gently slipped the gorgeous white blouse over my head.  Yes, I will admit the shape was somewhat tent-like, but it was maternity, right?  Then I began to extend my arms into the sleeves...  but they wouldn't go.  I readjusted and tried again...  and slowly, but surely, like a teenaged girl putting on jeans for a Saturday night, I managed to push my hands through to the end. 

It was on.

I couldn't move my arms, but it was on.

I wish I could draw you a picture, but you will simply have to imagine the look of pride and accomplishment that was upon my face as I waddled into the living room.  Never has there been a more proud marshmallow.  Truly, I had done something.  And the looks on their faces were even more precious.

I sold the machine and bought new shoes.

Fast-forward to the present and you will see a gorgeous new sewing machine sitting right here beside me as I type. My husband and I stumbled across it on a far back corner of a store here in town and that sweet, naive man bought it for me.  God love him!  He even brought it home, watched the DVDs and set it up for me.  And then he said he, "I wonder what you will make first?"


Hmph.  Me too....

So, with a little less pep in my step, I went off to the craft store and purchased a variety of lovely little fabrics that would somehow, someday, become a new creation.
That stack of fabrics is sitting right here beside me as I type.
It is too much!  I love those fabrics.  They are each wonderful and unique and full of such potential,  yet I can't decide what to make of them.  I just keep looking at them and wondering, what are you? 

I think God feels that way with me sometimes.  With all of us.  We are each wonderful and unique and full of such potential...  but we don't always recognize who and what we are in His eyes.  I personally feel more like the triangle shaped maternity shirt with arms that don't quite move right than a beautiful garment.  But His handiwork is there to be seen.  I am, without a doubt, quilted together with all kinds of wonderful experiences and heartaches and hopes and skills.  I am not a one-size-fits-all, that's for sure!  But do not count me out yet.  I am made with purpose and with care and I fit just right where I belong.

My youngest daughter, Charlee Kate, completely unaware of any prior sewing offenses I may have been guilty of with her older siblings, asked me to sew her an Easter hat for a school party.  She said, "I wonder what it will be like?"

Hmph.  Me too...

But we worked together and let those around us who were wise and more experienced guide us a bit.  Before we knew it, we had a pink and yellow hat.  A real hat!  It fit on her head and everything!  I was so excited, I went on to also make her a pink and yellow dress and a pink and yellow pair of pants to wear with it.  And, again, I had a kicking and screaming child.  It was so sweet.  Just like the old times!
Still, I don't yet know what will become of my fabrics.  And I don't yet know what will become of me.  All I know is that we are all a work in progress and that even if the seams aren't straight,we are made beautiful and with purpose by a God who loves us. 

Blessings!

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom it.” 
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

And so it begins... My Blog

It occurs to me,

as I go through this wild and wonderful journey called life, that it often feels random, 

and even accidental.  From moment to moment things simply seem to happen, 

and in the blink of an eye, you are a married woman with five kids.  Wow!  

Phones are ringing, dogs are running, kids are yelling, 

dinner is "cooking" (terms used loosely) 

and there is something sticky on the floor right in front of the fridge.  

Then it's time to sleep for a bit and do it again.

As glamorous as it seems, I can't help but wonder if maybe I am missing something.  

Maybe, 

just maybe, 

if I allow God to simply be the great I Am, 

and I allow myself to simply be the great I'm Here, 

these random moments might actually transform into something of meaning.  

Or, 

and I know this sounds crazy, 

but maybe these random moments have always been full of meaning.... lessons...  insights...   and it is me that is being transformed.

I don't know.

But either way, this is me.  this is my life.  And I am happy you are here to share it.

Blessings.