For the Boys

My Sweet Boys,

I started thinking about both of you over the weekend and about all that I hoped to be able to teach you in the years ahead. I thought about your early school years and how you would need to learn that all people are to be treated with kindness and respect. Your teenage years will be full of tough choices and would speak to your integrity and character. Teenage years are followed by your twenties and while your choices will not fully define who you will become, they will linger with you for a very long time. Navigating life is tough and you will not always do it correctly.

My job, as your mother is to help you along the way. I love being mama to you both, but like you, I do not always make the right choices either. You don’t recognize it as much right now because you are too young; you simply love me in spite of it all. Regardless of my shortcomings, I still relish every day God gives me to guide and equip you with what you need to lead the successful life God has planned for you. I also hope you grow into an understanding of what God’s definition of success is.

Watching the news gives you a real wake up call to the fragility of life. It is true; our life is vapor – here today and gone tomorrow. All parents think about the possibility of something happening to them while their children are small and all they would miss as they began to grow up. I think about this often (a little too often if the truth be told). If something were to happen to me while you are still young boys, who will teach all there is to know?

Of course, I am not downplaying your fathers’ ability to raise you into outstanding men; he is, however chosen by God to be your father. That being said, I believe there are things you need to learn from both of us. It is for this reason that I have decided to write down the things I have learned as some of life’s greatest lessons. I just want to write life letters for you. Where ever you are in life, whatever choice you find yourself having to make, I want you to be able to pick up what I have written and maybe, hopefully find some wisdom. Consider this the first one and know that there will be many more to come. Sure, they will be on a public blog for anyone to read, but know they are written from my heart to you.

As a note, I am only in my early 30’s as I write this, so if you are trying to navigate a mid-life crisis or retirement, I may be of no use right now. I still need my mama to help navigate those waters for me. You see, we always need our mama’s and our mama’s are always there for us in one way or another. I pray you always know that; I will always love you and I will always be here for you.

I love you ‘to infinity & beyond’,
Mama

Grace and Mercy

Grace: unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification

There have been many times in my life when I received God’s grace – none more important than when I was saved. The intent of this post is in no way to downplay or overshadow the Grace and Mercy shown to me on that day. It is, however a post to marvel at how the Lord continues to bestow his Grace and Mercy on me.

I have written many times of my struggles in coming to terms with the timing of my pregnancy with Andrew. As most of you know, finding myself 3 weeks married and 3 months pregnant was devastating to say the least. I wasn’t ashamed of getting ‘caught’, but rather of not staying true to my convictions. It took many, many months to overcome that shame and I still struggle today. It is very hard to watch people’s faces when they begin doing the math!

I struggled with so much shame that I couldn’t even figure out how to love my child once he was here. I went through the motions of motherhood, but didn’t really feel like what I thought a new mother should feel like. Slowly, overtime, I realized that I did indeed love this child. Then I got up the next day and it was a little stronger. Stronger still the next until the realization and panic hit me all at once. I was going to get up every day loving Andrew more than I did the day before. And then one day my heart would explode. Cause of death: Heart failure for loving her child too much! Is that possible?

Around Andrew’s one year birthday, I realized how gracious God had been toward me. I deserved no Grace to be shown to me, but Andrew was pure Grace in my life. When I look at him, even in the most frustrating of moments, I can literally feel God’s Grace like sunshine on a warm day. There are times I am feel frozen in awe and grateful that God knows my heart and how truly thankful I am for this precious gift of Grace in my life. I pray that Andrew will always know that even in disobedience, God can make all things beautiful and he is living example of this truth.

With the acceptance of God’s Grace came the realization of all that I had missed because I chose to live in shame. Once my sins had been repented of, I should have turned it loose and lived free of the same, but being human, I suppose, I couldn’t. I missed out on the joy of being pregnant with Andrew, the joy of birth and all the firsts that come in the first year of life. Sure, I have many memories, but mostly I have worry & anxiety of how I would explain having a 6 month old on my 1 year anniversary! I never felt I deserved to enjoy motherhood the way other mothers did. I always felt that if I enjoyed it or embraced it that would give the impression that I wasn’t remorseful for the circumstances. How absurd!

Mercy: a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion

We always knew we wanted more children. I wanted 4 and George wanted 2, so 3 seems to be a nice compromise (although now George wants to halt at 2, which I find borderline breach of contract!). When Andrew was 18 months old we started talks of trying for baby #2 with the hope that they would be around 3 years apart in age. Within a few months we got the news… baby #2 would be here by Christmas!

I recall the night before I found out I was pregnant. I thought I had missed the window and we would have to see if the next month held hope for us. I was disappointed and saddened thinking Andrew may be an only child. Now, this, if nothing else proves that I am indeed a product of the ‘microwave generation’! We had only been ‘trying’ for 1 month and I felt that I would NEVER get pregnant – get a life Libby! I sat in Andrew’s bedroom as he played with his blocks and vowed that if he was the only child God ever gave me, I was thankful for him and would satisfied with just him – and I meant it. To my delight, however, I found out the next morning that I was already 5 weeks pregnant!

I couldn’t wait to share my joy with everyone I knew. Finally I got to call home with the wonderful news of pregnancy. I was able to call my friends with excitement in my voice. I found out about Landon at 5 weeks and I was able to enjoy every moment of my pregnancy.

The first trimester came with some morning sickness – nothing major, but it was there and I hated it. Oddly, I loved being able to hate it. I loved being able to chose how I felt about being pregnant – the good and the bad. I counted the days until I felt the fist kick. Trying desperately to compare this pregnancy with Andrews, but I kept saying ‘I just don’t remember…’

The second trimester came with the passing of morning sickness, the arrival of heartburn and the news that my baby was A BOY! Ok, at first I wasn’t thrilled but within a few days I was very excited about having another boy. I mean, after all saying ‘The boys…’ has a much nicer ring to it than ‘The kids…’. Day after day we tried to pick a name until finally we agreed on Landon – and to this day we are trying to decide if we should keep that name! I guess we must now because sure enough, the kid is starting to grow into the name ‘Landon George’!

Landon was born on Monday December 6th at 8:02 am. The birth was much like that of Andrew’s birth (dreaded c-section), but this time I was able to see Landon as soon as they pulled him out. He had the loudest cry (which he still has) and lots of dark, curly hair. I remember looking at him and noticing he was smaller than Andrew (a full pound) and thinking “Who is having a baby in here today? That is not my kid!” But it was… that curly haired screamer was my baby boy… baby boy #2. Instantly I loved him. God has shown me such mercy... a second chance to embrace all that is motherhood.

Landon’s birth put an order in my life that I hadn’t had before. Suddenly, my priorities aligned as they should. I am a wife and mother… and I am confident in those roles. I know I make so many mistakes, but God has entrusted these boys (all 3 of them) to me. I love them. I love the dirty diapers, the 3 am feedings (a little less love for that), watching Andrew turn bath time into pool time, the celebration we have when he goes a full day in his big boy underwear. I love it all… even when I am so tired and the look on my face says I hate it. I love it. I love them.

I have been home with Landon for 12 weeks now. Today is my last day at home with him before he enters the cruel world of day care. OK, Andrew is proof positive that it isn’t a cruel world. But, honestly, I am very sad and torn about dropping both kids off Monday morning. I kind of want to stay home and bake cookies and do arts and crafts with them. You know, all the things that my mama did with me. HAHA… that was a joke. But seriously, she took me to Burger King every Monday for chicken tenders and a coke. Those are fond memories and that’s what I want for my boys.

God is good. That is a complete and truthful statement that doesn’t change based on our circumstances. God is gracious and he is merciful. It is a truth in my life and in yours. I don’t know what Grace and Mercy look like to you. But, for me, Grace and Mercy look like Andrew Nathan & Landon George. They are gifts.

The LORD is good,
a refuge in times of trouble.
He cares for those who trust in him. Nahum 1:7

God is good! We have all, for the most part, said these words at some point in our lives. Almost always these words are said after something good has happened. Tuesday, a week ago, I received word that my very best friend got concerning news on her 20 week ultrasound. She is due to deliver her first child the same week I am due to delivery my second child. She was told there was something wrong with the baby’s heart. We have since learned that there is a larger chance it is nothing (possibly nothing more than a shadow), but for 2 days we were led to believe the worst. My heart broke and I sobbed for those 2 days. I kept repeating “God is good even when the news isn’t”. I really wanted to write about that then, but the words wouldn’t come.

It is 3:30 am and I have not slept since at all. As most of you know, we received word that Ty (my brother) has a mass on his brain. This came out of nowhere really, he was just having some vision problems this week and now, here we are. He will undergo a biopsy in a few short hours to determine what it is and for the second time in less than 2 weeks, my heart is broke. I will be flying to Tallahassee on the early flight at 7:00 am to be with Ty and my family, but what can I do exactly?

I guess I can pray… that is what you would tell me to do, right? That is what many of you are doing (and the prayers are coveted). But today, my prayers seem hollow. They seem like they are going nowhere and while I pray I am being attacked and told things that I know are untrue. It is in times like these when the quiet voice of God is hard to hear over the shouting voice of Satan. I know, however, that Truth remains true even when words won’t come and answer are unclear. I know that God is good.

I went for my ultrasound on Tuesday. I was a little saddened to learn that the Caroline in my stomach was actually an unnamed little boy. I was thrilled to learn, however, that he is perfectly healthy. I sat waiting for my doctor while praising the Lord for such good news. How great he is that he can create something so perfect! I marvel at his goodness. I cannot and I will not praise Him one day and curse him the next. Sure, I’m scared and honestly there is some anger mixed in there as well. I just don’t understand.

As I struggle for sleep I cannot get the words out of my head ‘The God on the mountain is still God in the valley’. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know what the results of this biopsy will bring. I don’t know when the tears will stop, when the fear will subside or when the loud voice of Jesus will drown out the enemy. But I do know that God is good. He is faithful. I will trust Him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V65EPF2S-s0&feature=related

Lessons in the Night

Like most married couples with children, George and I have our best conversations late at night once the kid(s) have gone to bed. These conversations can be anything from decline of our nation to what’s for dinner tomorrow night. Most of the time it’s about our parenthood survival plan – this involves fear and trembling!

A few weeks ago we were laying there and George asked a very simple yet important question. He asked ‘Why is it that so many people seemingly worship the Virgin Mary’. I could feel myself getting in position to ‘teach’ him. I do that sometimes. George often comes to me and asks me ‘Bible’ questions and I find myself sometimes prideful because I know the answer and can enlighten him. Such a good little Christian I am.

I first explained to George that it annoys me when people call Mary ‘The Virgin Mary’… news flash, she had other children after Jesus. Their father was Joseph. She birthed them. Are you following me here? The Virgin Mary is just Mary now. Can we please post that in the bulletin this Sunday?

I then got a little more serious with him. It is a topic I have given much thought. I mean, I don’t want to give someone less honor than they deserve. Should I honor Mary more than I do? What Mary did was incredible, there is no doubt. She was the vessel for the Son of God to make His way to Earth and die for our sins. Where would we be today without that? Sacrificing lambs I suppose.

Let’s first look at what Mary was. First she ‘Highly Favored’ by God (Luke 1:28), she was good. Second she was a sinner. Romans 3:23 says ‘For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God’. All means all. Third she was obedient. She was scared and feared what would happen to her if she carried this child, being unwed at the time. But, she was obedient to God’s call.

None of us can deny that God used Mary in a mighty way. But when you look at Mary you should rejoice and get excited. Might the Lord want to use you in a mighty way? Mary was a sinner who needed a savior. No different than you and I. Mary could have said no. You may think that she had no choice, but in her heart I believe she did. Had she not been obedient what do you think would have happened? I’ll tell you what. We would be talking about the Virgin ‘Rachel’ or ‘Hannah’ or ‘Jane’ or someone else who was obedient. When we are not obedient to God’s calling he finds someone else who will be. Mary was replaceable, lucky for her, she chose to obey.

George and I had a good talk that night. I rolled over and continued in my thoughts. I just couldn’t understand why some people, many people worship a person. Why can’t people just see that Mary is a person, much like you and I? That’s when it happened… that still, small voice. The Lord very gently pointed out to me that I am so guilty of the same thing. Huh? I don’t worship Mary!

Libby, he said, You have been striving to be an ‘Esther’ since your early 20’s. You have prayed to be like King David – to be woman after God’s own heart (Acts 13:22). You have hoped to have the heart and determination of Paul. You have fallen short so often. Ouch…
He was right. It became clear to me that I, and so many Christians, look to our “Bible Hero’s” for a role model, a guide as to who we need to be. Why do I do that? There is only one person to be looking to. Jesus… as Christian’s we need to strive to be more Christ-like, not more ‘Paul-like’, ‘Esther-like’ or ‘Mary-like’. As we become more like Christ – He will increase and we will decrease (John 3:30). And when that happens, we are used in mighty ways.

The Prayers of a Mother

I get the joy of celebrating Mothers Day and Andrew’s birthday in the same week each year. While Mother’s day isn’t a holiday I think of myself on (for me, it is about the Mothers in my life), I have a constant reminder that it is indeed about me. You see, two years ago this week I brought that sweet child home and much to my surprise no one has come to take him back. Those people at the hospital really sent him home with me thinking I had the ability to raise him. Someone should tell them about the bottle of tap water I nearly gave him at 2 weeks old!

Things went well for a while and I fell head over heels in love with him. I mean I could eat him on a Frito – I just could not get enough of him. As I type this today…. 3 days before his second birthday, I realize that is all a part of God’s plan. You see… God, in his infinite wisdom gives you roughly 2 years to fall in love before he rips the mask off of what that child really is. An urchin, who wakes up in the morning plotting how to make you cry, scream, pull your hair out and consider becoming an alcoholic...all before noon. Just yesterday he slung refried beans across my kitchen, ran naked around the house making me chase him from one end to the other, ate half a crayon and spit the other half in my hand and filled a diaper so violently that I am still nauseous today! I was never so glad to see the nursery workers at church as I was at 9:30 am yesterday. I nearly left him until 6 pm.

As I laid down last night I had a major realization – Mother’s day is just another day to be a Mother. And this mother was tired. I laid there drifting off to sleep and I thought of my mother who I am sure was laying there thinking of her mother. I thought of how great a mother she has always been and how I hope to be half the woman she is. I thought about the many times over the years that she has been there when I needed her. Never complaining and never tiring. And then I thought about the best advice she ever gave me, as a mother. She told me, not long after the urchin I love so much was born, that the only way to raise children is on your knees, in prayer. I know this has been her method of raising kids… and I think she has done a great job.

I rolled over and I began to pray for Andrew. Now, this isn’t the first time I have prayed for my child. I pray for him regularly. I always pray for his safety while at school. I pray for his well being and the normal things parents pray for their children. But, as I watch Andrew begin to grow up, I am faced with the reality that he is becoming more and more independent and with that comes less of a need for mama. Sure, I have a long time before he is totally independent, but the day will come and it will come quickly. Who will he be when that day comes?

I could just stand by and let life mold him into the man he will become. I could just do my best and hope he is all I have imagined. Or, I could pray. I can pray the prayer of Hannah (1 Samuel 27-28) and give what God has loaned me, back to Him. That has to be a constant decision. A constant acknowledgement that God knows what is best for my child and loves him more than I do. Hard to imagine sometimes, but I know it is truth.

As I prayed for Andrew the tears rolled. I know he will stumble and he will fall. I cannot pray that he doesn’t, it is a given that we all stumble & fall – it is why we need a Savior. It is why Andrew needs a savior. I pray for the day when he comes to know the Lord. What a glorious day that will be both in Heaven and on Earth. I pray that he will come to know all the plans that God has for him and that he is blessed beyond measure. I pray that he not only knows the Lord but has a relationship with Him and desires that closeness daily.

What I prayed for most of all was the hard times that will come his way during life’s journey. It was hard and it pained me to think of the trials he will go through. I want to save him from those tough times. Times that he brings on himself due to sin and times God just puts him through. I want to protect him from the hurt, but I cannot. And as much I want to, I would not. I am who I am today because I have scars on my knees and palms of my hands. I have fallen and I have gotten back up. I have fought many battles, but because of who I am in Christ, I have won.
I want Andrew to win. I want him to feel Grace and Mercy in a way that can only be felt when you ‘Get Up’ from the battle. I want Andrew to be used in a might way for Gods glory & for His honor. If he never walks through the fires of life, if he never messes up, if his halo never tilts then tell me how can he ever be used in a mighty way?

Andrew is special. Not because he is my child, but because he is God’s child. I will pray for him continually that he may grow into the man he was created to be. I will pray that he loves his God. I will pray that he gets up every time he falls down and that he unapologetically proclaims the Grace and Mercy of the God who created him.

The object of teaching a child is to enable him to get along without his teacher.
~Elbert Hubbard


I have been thinking a lot recently about being brainwashed. I mean seriously, have you considered how easy it is to be brainwashed in this media crazed world we live in? Several years ago I stopped listening to rap music. I know… the thought of me listening to rap music is odd; odder still is the thought of me dancing to it in my car. I had moves… moves that George describes as seizure-like! I gave it up… but I do miss ‘the moves’.

Why did I give up rap music? Well, as you can imagine, the lyrics are really bad. The music is good (to me), but the message is B-A-D! I was at a point in my life where my convictions were being challenged greatly on a daily basis and the message I was getting on my 45 minute commute to & from work was not reinforcing my values. In fact, the message was making me ‘long’ to straddle the fence just enough to feel like a normal person; live my 20’s with gusto! What I knew in my heart never changed though and I eventually realized either the music had to go or my values did because the fact of the matter was ‘Ludicris’ was brainwashing me… and I was letting him.

You may have missed the big news, but I am a mama now. Crazy, isn’t it? It was a shock to me as well… a BIG shock! I try to be very purposeful in raising Andrew. I try to keep focused on the big picture… the man he becomes. I want him to realize and receive all the things the Lord has planned for his life. I would love to be the mother of the next Billy Graham. Maybe he will be musically inclined and win a DOVE award? Or maybe he will be a software developer and teach Sunday school or just be a greeter for the morning service? I don’t know what the Lord has for his life, but he has something and I want him to seek it out.

So, how do I guide him in his journey? Well, for starters we go to church – Sunday School too. We listen to children’s church songs on the car, watch Veggie Tales, say the blessing before dinner and say a prayer before bed. He has come to expect these things and can even say the prayer with me at night (although rather unclear) and don’t even get me started on the way he holds my hand, bows his head and says ‘Amen’ at dinner. Have you any idea how hard it is not to consume that child!

Most of you would say this makes me a good parent and for the most part I would agree – at least I try to be a good parent. But, what would you say of the Muslim family across the street that uses every opportunity to instill Muslim values into the lives of their Children? You would probably wouldn’t rush to call them good parents; although if pressed you may have a hard time putting your reasons into words.

I have heard it said many times and have actually said it myself – these children are brainwashed. We have no problem believing that children raised in homes that preach values drastically different from our own are brainwashed. So, doesn’t that mean that I am brainwashing Andrew? Wow, that’s a very hard thought. It came to me about a month ago and caused me to sit and really think about it.

I’m a Christian… I know what believe and more importantly, I know why I believe it. I have always known the ‘what’… always. I have known the ‘what’ because my parents and people near & dear to me told me the ‘what’ over and over and over again. But, the ‘what’ doesn’t get you very far in life, does it?

I am firm believer that you cannot truly believe something until you have questioned it. I cannot simply take what I have been taught my entire life and assume that in this world full of trials and temptations, those ’whats’ would prevail without a ‘why’! I cannot tell you how many times I have sat in silence with a piece of my faith, a conviction, a truth and questioned whether it was ‘The Truth’ or just ‘good teaching’. The key to questioning what you believe is having an open heart for the answer. This is how you get to the ‘Why’!

So, as I sat in silence asking whether I am being a good parent or whether I am brainwashing my child, God revealed my journey to me. It wasn’t long before I knew with assurance that I am not brainwashing Andrew – I am giving him the ‘what’. It is up to him to find the ‘why’.

Do you know what you believe? More importantly, do you know why you believe it?

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old,

he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

George and I got a family bible as a wedding gift, which happens to be one of my favorite gifts. Growing up in the Bible Belt, I thought everyone had a family bible sitting on the living room table. I have come to find out that is not the case. When I moved into this house, we had only the TV stand to actually call a 'table' and it wasn't an appropriate place for a bible. So, I am sad to report that until recently it has been tucked away nicely in the top of the closet in the guest bedroom. Thankfully, this weekend our long awaited formal living room furniture arrived and out came the family bible to take its rightful place. Even better is the fact that I quickly found a use for it... we are actually reading it as a family!

We started 'Resurrection Eggs' with Andrew this week. By we, I mean 'I' since George is traveling and I am flying solo with the kid this week. I have been anxiously awaiting doing this with Andrew since I heard of them last year. I went to get them a week before Easter and they were all sold out, this year I got them early and have been waiting. I decided that I would do 1 egg a night for the 12 days leading up to Easter finishing the night before. I think trying to cram all 12 eggs into one day would be too much for Andrew. Having completed 2 nights, I realize it would be too much for me!

Have you heard of 'Resurrection Eggs'? Fascinating concept, I think. Twelve plastic eggs, each filled with something representative of one aspect of the Easter story. There is an accompanying book that give a scripture the egg is in reference to and a short explanation. Egg #12 is a golden egg and is empty representing, of course, the empty tomb! I am in love with these eggs, I seriously am.

Clearly stated on the box are the words 'For ages 3 & up.'... puh-leeze! Andrew loves story time and this would be a variation of story time, right? I know he is only 22 months, but I have a plan. We can handle one egg a night for twelve nights; we're a model family, after all. Here is how it all went down...


We went to the living room (as a side note, how many people find it odd that we actually sat in the living room - the one room you were never allowed in as a child because it would get messed up and.... the horror... company would foot prints on the freshly vacuumed carpet!). Again, we went into the living room and I opened the booklet and opened the bible to the scripture for egg #1. All the while, Richard is running around barking loudly, jumping on me, jumping on Andrew, but knowing his life was in danger if he jumped on the new furniture! Mind you, Andrew is neither interested in the booklet, the bible or the dog. No, he is interested in this...


I was seriously trying not get frustrated and remember that he is not even 2 years old yet. The box did tell me 'ages 3 & up' after all! I read the scripture, fully aware that I was reading to myself. Thinking back on it, I wonder why I took the time to convert 'Ass' to 'Donkey' while reading since he was oblivious to the Word of God anyway! Thankfully, they only give you 2-3 verses to read and then you can open your egg to see what has been hidden inside. What was inside the blue egg?

A Donkey... of course! And that one blue egg and enclosed donkey was all that Andrew was concerned with. He couldn't care less about the remaining 11 eggs, just the one blue egg. It was as if he knew we were on 'Day 1' and day 1 was the blue egg. Oh, he is a good little student; I have raised him right! Perhaps I got ahead of myself since at some point I think he threw the donkey and the egg from one side of the room to the other.

Finally (thankfully), the end of our 'lesson' was drawing near. I pulled Andrew close and told him we were going to say a prayer. It only seems appropriate that we should end in a prayer, right?Why did I put myself through this? Well, I had good intentions but I was so flustered at that point that I actually found myself thanking the Lord for donkey's and thanked Jesus for his son... Jesus. I had to laugh... I am so glad that God knows our hearts, aren't you?

You may be thinking that Day 1 wound up being the last day, but it wasn't. We gathered around the pink egg last night which contained silver coins and we talked about how Judas betrayed Jesus for 30 silver coins. Again, Andrew only cared about that pink egg and its contents. We played with the egg for several minutes and then we ended in prayer which went somewhat better... somewhat!

I don't expect Andrew to come out of this in 2 weeks knowing the Easter story. But he is smart and he picks things up very quickly. He knows you aren't supposed to eat before you say a blessing, you aren't supposed to go to bed without saying a prayer and when you ask him where Jesus is, he points to the sky and his heart. He doesn't understand the why of everything right now, but one day, I pray he will. For now, I am simply preparing the field for rain.