Reflecting-More of YOU, less of me...

Evergreen needles are sticking to the bottom of my feet; wrapping ribbon can be seen in the corner of the living room beneath the tree…all remnants of what was a wonderful family celebration and I stare at the beautiful lit tree….and ponder.

In the kitchen there are dishes, an over flowing trash can and unattended floors.  As I tackle them..I ponder; I contemplate, chewing on my lower lip, trying to determine the pull, the force-

As I shower, I lean against the wall, beneath the warm waterfall and ask “what?” “What are you saying to me?” I just know there’s more-there is-it as if several of those contemplations slide down my legs and through my toes and into the drain-swirling around in the water, where do they go?

“O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water”. Psalms 63:1

I maneuver my way to work, weave in and out of traffic and …I think-I search-I seek-I pray-for?? What, what do I want in this next year? What do YOU want from me in this next year? I want to be used up, totally emptied by the conclusion of this 365 days, to know that all of me was exhausted, deflated for His glory –not one drop left, not one endeavor, not one time that I should have shared myself, my possessions, my heart, my finances..and yet, I know that being human the probability of this outcome is bleak. I am imperfect and with flaws. This is what eats away at me…my imperfection.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God”Ephesians 2:8

The echo of my inner thoughts that are being repeated back to me-over and over again….my thoughts, my inquiries-my ponderings?? If I try to hold onto one, I realize it’s just a thought, not a reality-and it slips right through my fingers. Making my contemplations realities, that’s tough work sometimes.

I am awaken at night-and I think about this last year, and I ponder about my babies, and all that has happened and all that will-and as wonderful and marvelous as these things are-I yearn.

“If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.” 1 Peter 4:11

I long for you-yes, long. I yearn to be your very hands and feet in 2013. I long to make more of my thoughts and dreams realities and realize what it’s going to take-

 I’ve made too much of me, too much of Tracy

and less of You-I lONG for YOU-I crave You.

In 2013 help me to make the MOST of you-this is the yearning in my spirit, this is the desire gnawing my insides. YOU-More YOU.

All of you-none of me

All of You-None of Me
What is turning around the bend? I strain my neck as I attempt to see it leaving; its passing, subtly fading, shadows, and hulls of warm autumn colors that were once the soft colors of spring surround me, they crinkle and crunch under my feet. I look behind me and see the familiar path that has brought me to this very spot. The path weaves in and out of the valleys and the mo...untains, the rough terrain, and the beautiful meadows, others paths intercross with mine, some very intricately and some briefly cross for a brief time period. The path is urging me, beckoning me to take the next step. What lies ahead? Gorges, torrent rains, soft prairie grasses? 

 I step forward and feel the warmth of the sun on my back as it just ever so slightly hints at retiring for the day. Although it’s a bend that signifies a half-way point, that there is much journey left ahead, it is still a mile stone of sort…the indentation in the road is there indeed.

This path my feet are planted on, is full of colors so vibrant, beauty so defined all around me -so intricately and exhaustively detailed-as if I were viewing these canvases for the first time. I stop and gaze into a small puddle beside me and dip my finger into the wetness, producing ripples that display pictures of choices that were once made along this path. Atlas, all ripples fade, all puddles dry and the chapter is closed. Hence, this need, this small voice that softly calls out deep within me- demanding that I stop and praise my Maker. I try to address these nagging thoughts that are deep within asking if I am fulfilling each purpose, each design that was specifically architected for me and I alone, before I go…before the final jagged bend of winter and all attempt of conquering this path I now stand on- will be gone.

Still standing in the midst of my path, I am in awe of His creations, His skew of color selections, the detail of skies and clouds, of fog and dew. The feel and smell of vegetation and the fields they originate from. I find that all of His creation is literally commanding me to stop and to stare, to meditate on things, on beauty that is spilling around me. I am transfixed. Why now my soul asks, why now? They have not changed….Have I?

My Questions drove me to find answers-My journey seemed to pause indefinitely…I did not step forward, nor back-instead I found myself stuck in the rut in the path determined that I would not venture forward until I found the absolute in continuing, the knowledge that at the end of this path, as my journey was approaching the end-That I could look back and know that it was successful because it was all of Him and none of me.

Jack

Jack...I look at him…and stare…I stare at him while he’s sleeping, while he’s eating with us at the dinner table, while he mows the yard…laughs with his dad, wrestles on the floor with his dog…takes off ahead of us on bike rides at river park, while he worships in church and when he gets out of the van and walks into school, His back to me, walking away…I stare. He’s a boy, he’s a man…he’s in between, it all depends on what moment you catch him in-but for the moment he’s still mine..for a very brief moment.

I swell with pride, when he stops and carries groceries for the elderly, holds open doors for every one-smiles and talks to babies (because they love him). My heart swells when he tells me..”Mom, you look beautiful today!” (Which he says all the time..and means…)or “Mom, don’t worry You will never be alone, I will always take care of you”. This is the boy I love..The boy I watch..
The boy who can’t stand it when I throw the feed the children pamphlet’s in the trash..Surely mom we can send something…look how many pounds of food ten dollars will buy..take my Christmas money Mom please-

I smile when I walk into his room and see scripture after scripture written on individual pieces of paper all over his wall…I smile…because he’s mine-I know on a very real level that he is not really mine but mine to borrow..for a time…a time that is now short and I try to keep smiling-

I remember, so vividly the day that I gave birth to him, the excitement, the fear..The what if’s…for me the day was not planned, way too early…and yet Jack and Trevor decided it was indeed the day…to make their grand appearance and grand it was..due to the emergency c-section and the being over drugged it was hours before I saw these precious boys in the ICU, it was midnight, and Dewayne rolled me down in my wheel chair to see these boys of mine…no names yet…just so undecided..
I remember seeing Jack the bigger one (not by much) and I knew…I knew that He was my Jackson-beautiful in every way..beautiful-Dewayne then wheeled me over to Trevor who was in an enclosed incubator and I put my hand through the little hole to touch his hand…and I spoke quietly…”Hi, little man” and he grabbed my finger…I would have never know that night that months later Trevor left our family to be with Jesus…and Jack remained with me…and I just remember staring at him..at night, at all hours, at all times…I stared…I loved…this precious boy filled my hours, helped healed my heart- I think many days…Lord…if I could have one wish..one..it would be to watch and smile at both of my boys for one hour..one…and yet I know …One day, I will watch and smile as they embrace. I know..I know Trevor is just as amazing as my boy down here on earth…

He loved trains..Obsessed with trains is more like it, guard rails were train tracks…telephone wires were train tracks..and I enjoyed every minute of it…I just watched…and smiled..watched school plays, band recitals, marching band, and so much more..and smiled…filing it away in my heart..knowing time is short..very short.

If you know him-you smile, you know what I’m talking about, He’s different, He’s set apart…He’s sensitive and strong and funny and ….you just like him…you can’t help it.

I have watched and smiled through so much…How very honored to be apart of such a boy/man’s life. His heart is so set on God’s path, on God’s Word, on His will for Jack and I smile…He’s a great boy, this boy of mine…He’s going to be a great man-and I will continue to watch and smile from a distance.

The Storm

I love to write-period. I have loved journaling since I was a little girl, for me it's an avenue to vent, express myself, to say things that I might not have said out loud, these are my thoughts, personal feelings and they go no further, but lately I have been writing about my life and really felt like if I put it out there –even a small piece of it-it would help with the healing-silly I know..I can't explain it. This over whelming pain, this unbelievable betrayal might somehow start to heal. I'm not looking for comments or concern or pity-Just thinking that this could potentially help me begin to heal.

Anyone who knew us-our wonderful big family-they knew we were happy, strong, fun, we were envied. I thought we were inevitable. We were forever....My mother repeatedly told me during my childhood two things saved Her and I from a hard road, Jesus Christ and my dad and I believed that....I loved that..my heart would smile when she said that to me. She would tell me the story of how He swooped in and saved me. He loved me. He gave me his name-and yet-

Like a storm, it came in violently, raging; the storm itself was quick-it tore through our lives, our strong foundations without regard. The aftermath, the damage has left scares-wounds and unimaginable pain-the betrayal-the disbelief and the shame. It took our breath, it knocked us down, it left us dazed, what we had thought was no more. It was gone-our memories scattered all around us, never to be the same- Never. I compare it to recent storms that ravaged this area. As I viewed the damaged homes-or homes that weren’t even there, trees that literally looked like they were ripped off at the top-swimming pools that were emptied…people trying to scurry through what was.

My heart relates, for this is what happened to me and my family..my mother…my children-we are left scurrying through what was left-Like the victims in the storm…we scavenged through the aftermath of the storm looking for familiar pieces of our lives. We did find things that we could keep - unscathed, in perfect condition, just as they were before the store- these treasures that we hold so tightly will continue on with our family forever and we get a glimpse of what can be and what will be with time-they are promises. Then as we dig deeper we find things that are broken, unrecognizable. We investigate them, determining if it is salvageable or not-wow, that’s a painful process, taking memories, and traditions and laying them in the "Unsalvageable" pile…only to turn around and pick it up again trying to convince yourself that it can be fixed…it can be what it was, can’t it ? Again, with a broken heart you force yourself to walk away leaving it in the broken pile. Is it over? No. You find yourself returning again and again revisiting these broken items-grieving. Until one day you realize, the pile is large, it’s time-time to burn, and time to walk away. You watch that small flame start eating at pieces-pieces of your life, you smell the horrid smoke, what’s that smell? My memories! My loved ones! Pieces of MY life-now reduced to ashes to be blown away into the sky like they never existed. Did they exist? Did I make too much of them? Were they not what I thought they were? Did I live in an imaginary world…a fairy tale...don’t worry, I tell myself a lot… for believe me when I say-I now live in complete reality.

Lastly…the third category-things that we can’t locate at all-they are forever lost in the storm. Memories and traditions…and the worst loss - family…I never located my Dad. The storm passed and He was gone. I believe he was blown into someone else’s life-someone else’s yard. I had this yearning to post a wanted sign "Please return the pre storm dad- I miss him. Love Tracy" And yet I couldn’t because he was the master of the storm-I wanted to yell…you traitor-You impostor!

Suffering? Deep hearted retching suffering? Yes! watching my mom, literally be taken down, not be able to breathe, hiding in clothes in department stores while she cried to me on the phone- and I would calmly talk to her until she was able to function again…Answering the phone time after time and only hearing sobs-knowing it was my precious mother. Listening as I repeatedly heard questions like-Why am I not good enough? Am I not pretty enough? How can He live in that house without me? Can He really go on without me? What am I going to do-my life was all planned out with him! Was I angry? I wanted to rip the family door knocker off the door.

I found that My Mom and I were together constantly, from early in the morning,　 into the afternoon and late into the night- We even worked together for awhile-I made phone calls at all hours, for hours- just so I could comfort her, be there…the thought of her being alone and grieving literally tormented me-When I wasn’t with her or on the phone with her I would lay in bed not being able to sleep-praying-and begging and crying because one of the people dearest to my heart was grieving..I would ask myself was she sleeping….Was she crying? Is she eating? I would beg the Lord to bring them back together and then I would swear that He would never come near her again. I felt like a valiant warrior…the Warrior of Mom-no one was going to hurt her or unload their troubles on her. Couldn’t they see she was drowning! What could I do…I brought flowers & plants, and multiple cards, coffee’s and tea’s and just little things that I knew would temporarily make her smile- and we trudged on-

It overtook me and for awhile it seemed nothing else mattered to me but making sure she survived…I was driven-pushing all hurt away for my mom, I had to be strong right? I was…until I drove away from her or hung up the phone and I wept and I mourned and at times I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Did I want to breathe at all?

I know…I heard the comments-if not vocally then in their looks as if we could have done something differently, or we should have seen the signs- this couldn’t possibly happen to a true Christian family. People you thought would be there weren’t and surprisingly people you never thought would be were there. I remember purposefully walking the other way in a store, or restaurant because you just couldn’t tell your story to one more person today….did they really care-would they really pray?

After much thought and prayer-My mom needed to leave-she needed to somehow discover how to live again, to get healthy and she left for my brother’s. I remember the day she pulled away and I sat in my car and heart sobbed and sobbed-she was gone-it was just another after effect of the storm still rippling and even though I wanted this for her-it was right, it was good! I sobbed and I found over the next few days, weeks and months that I was lost-after all-my job had been to be the valiant warrior right? So now I seemed lost…I would drive to work and cry…sob…and reapply my makeup once again.

In the midst of this time, we had family situations face us that we probably weren’t strong enough to face…It didn’t stop, you couldn’t catch your breath. I would say it can’t possibly get worse than this and it did- My heart continued and continues to break for people that I adore-I adore and yet it was out of my realm to fix-unimaginable to me…I stand up for what’s right!! I fight the fight!! I demand justice but sometimes justice doesn’t show up on time and all you can do is stand back and watch life unfold and I seemed to die a little bit more.

As you can imagine I allowed this tragedy to become even more important than my husband and my babies…and I only have myself to blame. In the months following my mother’s departure-I realized that I had the most patient, loving and understanding husband-did it take a toll on us? More than I ever realized. I had to learn, to make myself think about my children..their day..their needs and not stay completely focused on my mother that was somewhere in Texas…far far away..Did I love them..out of the question, but this hurt, this wound had become an obsession to me..What was I thinking that I…me…Tracy could fix this problem??

The question of the century always seems to be…"Have you forgiven your father?" My answer would be yes, my honest answer would be sometimes…I take it back…and have to start the process of forgiveness all over again. I’m not angry really…just sad-confused-and most of all numb..

I saved the most important part of this for last…How does a family cope with such loss, a death of sorts and go on? How do we reclaim what is ours?　 How does my heart stop hurting –and I have one answer and only one…

Jesus

The night of the storm He was there, He allowed it. He knew about it-long before we did-was He shocked? No. Did He stop it? No. Could He have stopped it? Absolutely. My loved ones that I feel like I need to fix..He’s in control.

Jesus...

The mother I mentioned above is one of the strongest, Godliest Women I know. Her children certainly rise up and call her blessed. Her faith is the real deal-built on a solid foundation-was that foundation rocked? You bet, but firm she stands-In Christ-the only reason that she is where she is today. The only reason that she is starting to smile and laugh again and make future plans for herself. The only reason she didn’t enter the land of the mental.

Jesus...

Does she have setbacks…sadly and understandably- yes and we walk through those moments. We could do little to fix this physically ourselves-so we laid it down at the feet of

Jesus....

My family will heal-We will find happiness and laughter and family memories that will last for generations!

We are making it…I am making it day by day with His comfort, His strength, and in His promises-promises of a new day. By extending the same forgiveness and mercy and grace that he extends to ME…to Tracy! I will carry on through this tough world, until the day that He decides I get to live with Him in His.

I was saved per say as a child…but by Christ alone-

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness". Therefore will I boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. I Corinthians 12:9-10

My Aunt Mary

Last night, I sat thinking...about Death and Heaven..and My life...and just started writing....

My Nana-Charlotte, my precious Nana that I care for at this time-and chuckle about on Face book occasionally, has a twin sister named Mary. Mary is living her last days here on this earth-Our precious Mary is getting ready to meet Jesus. Her window is closing.
My pastor occasionally makes the statement "Sudden death...Sudden glory." This statement thrills me...gives me chill bumps and I have just been repeating this phrase over and over in my head when I think and pray for my Aunt Mary.

Researching the word Glory I found-Awesome splendor, astounding beauty, Heaven-perfect happiness, Adoration, praise, and thanksgiving offered in worship and Majestic beauty and splendor; resplendence.

WOW-from her last breathe here on earth, in her sickly frail broken body to "Sudden Glory"-no more hurts, sorrows, worries, no more tests, and IVs and medications and ambulances, no more sadness-"Sudden Glory"

She can breathe without an oxygen tank! She can laugh and have long conversations and meet a son that left her at very early age..she can hug my son for me! Most importantly-She gets to be with Jesus, sitting at His feet, worshipping Him “Sudden Glory”-from the moment we are born we start working our way to this moment-An eternity spent with Jesus! Can you even imagine? She gets to go HOME-

Will we mourn as a family? Sure will, because such a wonderfully kind and thoughtful and quiet and meek lady is no longer here on earth with us-Will my precious Nana mourn-her heart will surely never be the same again-until they are reunited in Sudden Glory-
I have such wonderful memories...My mother has such wonderful wonderful memories..I have heard such great stories passed on from my mother about Aunt Mary-She was a stable person in my mother's childhood, she loved her! I love my Aunt Mary for that alone-She loved my mom-My Nana who was raised in an orphanage with Mary has such wonderful memories and stories that she loves to share about “HER” Mary.

All this to say...I have been thinking I am turning 40 soon (if my brother is reading this..he is laughing) and it is unbelievable to me..it can't be..it can't..It’s flying by..and before you know it, my body, my physical body will be winding down and tired-I'm realizing the older I get that this life is just a passing glimpse before we spent eternity in Glory..It’s a window, a small window of time that I have been entrusted with to make a difference, to serve others, to love others, to impact lives for HIS glory! It's not about Tracy, Tracy's needs...desires...wants...they will be left in the dust..they will not be remembered..and yet so often I find myself forgetting and falling into this rut..Forgetting the window was nudged again...

We get so wrapped up in the day to day, minute to minute life that we forget the whole picture..we look up from time to time and see that the window is ever so slightly closing...and my purpose was? My legacy was? And my achievements were they mine or were they for His Glory? Where they comfortable choices, or were they uncomfortable-but the most profitable to others. Did I go after physical assets or eternal assets? What legacy will I leave behind? Did I glorify myself? Or My Savior? What child's life did I impact, what elderly person did I make more comfortable, what next door neighbor did I witness to-not just by words but by actions...My finances..where did they go-did I allow your money to serve others? To fulfill your purposes??

When the day comes, that my window indeed closes, and I will stand beside my Aunt Mary in "Sudden Glory" I want to hear the words-"Well done MY good and faithful servant"
C.S Lewis so appropriately wrote at the end of the Narnia books as his characters entered Heaven.
"The things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

My sister

I have been thinking a lot lately of memories. Good memories that illuminate my face with a smile, that merrily hum inside, life’s rainbows placed strategically within Life’s storms. I am talking about the kind of memories that are multicolored and make you stop and oh and ah. They make your eyes dance and your heart happy. Memories of my sister and I “playing” kitchen under big oak trees with all of our babies scattered all around us. Memories of us naming our first dog Fred, of swimming in our pool and the wall caving in and being swept down the hill in our floaties crying because our pool was gone-


Then, there were times that we would crawl into each other’s beds and cuddle up..who needed two twin beds in one room..a waste. Sitting Indian style on our Holly Hobby bed spreads in our pj’s and our pigtails, we would play our record player over and over. We would sing.. “Hoo He Hoo HaHa Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang-I told the witch doctor I was in love with you. “ so many similarities and so many differences- I was the bossy one (I know…all of you are not surprised) and she was the whiny one. I was the spender and she was the saver. That girl would save Easter candy until Christmas or Nana’s five-dollar bill for months…all in her special drawer…not me I was impulsive one and quick to devour any treat that came my way. What was a special drawer anyway? I lived in the moment. She was the tiny cute one and my cheeks were round and chubby. She loved to draw; I found it challenging to draw a stick person. She wore glasses, and I did not. When my sister wore glasses, they were not the fashionable things that you see today that kids can choose from. No, her’s were the thick bottle caps..thick as possible and certainly not attractive. She hated them, to the point that they occasionally “just happened” to break. I remember covering her back on several occasions when the glasses would mysteriously disappear. I remember threatening to beat up people if they made fun of my sister again and my mom will tell you I would. I protected her-she was mine to protect. We moved a lot growing up and it was ok. It was ok because my friend, my BFF was moving along with me. As we grew older, and visited those “teenage years”, where rainbows seem to come a little less frequently we were pulled down different roads, different adventures-time did not stand still for the two little girls in ponytails sitting on the Holly hobby bed’s.


Now, as mothers, we both have children of our own. We both live crazy, chaotic lives. We are both just as different today as we were then. She bakes her bread (the best by the way) and I can’t seem to get mine in the house unsmushed. I work and she is a stay at home CEO. She can work a sewing machine like none other, and I am officially labeled “sewing challenged-not trainable”. Ok..I feel my wide fuzzy memory smile coming across my face. We’re so much alike too. Servants of Christ Jesus, grounded in his Word-Dedicated moms-Dedicated wives-Do not mess with our families! Our passion for housekeeping and cooking and swapping recipes. Our paths do not cross as often as we would like, but when it does-you feel the automatic connection called sisterhood. The laughter, the joy-the possessiveness-it’s all there.


I thank you Father that YOU strategically placed her in my life. YOU allowed our paths to intermingle knowing that there are not many people in life that know the true Tracy, the me inside, and walk with me anyway. But…That’s what sister’s do.

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Hidden Blessings/Sandy Hook

My tired feet hit the rug beside my bed and I grumble…I inwardly whine about all the things that I need to accomplish at this ungodly hour of the morning. My mind tells me to turn around and retreat to the warm covers from hence I came as I walk down the hall, but my body has been so trained to disregard the will (well, at least the getting up at the ungodly part) of myself that ...I continue down the hall, past children’s doors and family pictures hanging on the wall-oh yah, and the half dozen shoes scattered throughout the hall, the dog hair…sigh, don’t forget the dog hair. As I walk into the kitchen, “the” dog is already begging to be let through the door and an alarm clock of a teenage girl is going off downstairs, even though I won’t see her face for at least an hour and the alarm will alert the house at least two to three more times…that she is still in bed.

I start lunches, and snacks. I fill thermoses and sign agenda’s. I curl ribbon for last minute Teacher Christmas Goodies and write out the tags to go with them. Cute tags-they make me smile. I brush away glitter to lay down bread, a little glitter never hurt anyone..plus makes for an interesting sandwich! I feed the dog who won’t stop whining and mutter to myself, “self, tomorrow you are not feeding this dog, a child can!” Knowing full well, that tomorrow when he whines “self” will give in and feed him.

I run downstairs and switch laundry..oh, great someone has thrown all my wet laundry on top of the washer so they could wash theirs, and now my dress pants…smell. On the way up the steps, I flip on the teenagers light that the annoying alarm is once again sounding from, and let the other teenager know his appearance would be appreciated (I get a ….Mom, I’ve got this..maybe he does) and head back up the steps. From there, I pick up a few of the shoes in the hall and chunk them into a few of the rooms they belong in, along with a..up, up, up..time to face the day!! This tactic it’s not overly successful-but it’s this or me screaming GET UP NOW!..so, I opt for the up up up. I am not rewarded with smiles and happy good morning sentiments, but rather, coughing and gasping for air as one male child tries to assure me for the millionth time that he is dying and needs to stay home from school.

Have you emptied the trash? What do you mean you need five dollars-followed by, What do you mean you lost yesterday’s five dollars..or here’s a good one, What do you mean you need five dollars because you treated your friend to a milk shake, you mean I TREATED your friend to a MILKSHAKE? How long have you known about this report? Can you stay after school, WHO will bring you home, WHO? If you mock your sister one more time, I’m gonna flatten you and then you will have a breathing problem! Leave the dog alone, NO-you are NOT leaving the house with that many wrinkles and just because she got the last fruit roll up in her lunch doesn’t mean I love her more. These are things that echoed within my walls…

As I am just about to reach the mountain top of insanity (the only mountain top that I am a frequent climber of)they start filtering out the door-the oldest one drives now, it’s a mother’s dream and nightmare all wrapped up into one tiny little package. The boy child who is breathing just fine, runs back in the door…and slams right into me…love you mom, love you-sorry about the fruit roll up thing..and he dashes off.

My youngest is still at home for a few moments until she catches the bus..she comes and puts out her hand, here mom, I found this beautiful rock for you-because you’re the best mom, I miss you during the day mom-and she lays into me and stays there…and I rub her back and smell her Hershey kiss lip gloss and chuckle at her layered socks (her older sister taught her this) and bright colored purple boots and think..all of this is worth every alarm, every sprinkle, every dog hair..it’s worth it.

Somewhere this morning, twenty plus mothers in CT heard nothing but their own thoughts. Somewhere this morning, almost two dozen moms, weren’t making sandwiches and last minute Christmas presents and breaking up fights at the breakfast table. Those moms aren’t dealing with all the hustle and bustle and chaotic chaos of life…..instead they were looking at trees that held ornaments that their tiny babies made, and empty lunch boxes. 

 But they wish they were… 

 I guarantee many of them slept in small beds that had action figure, or Disney princess quilts loaded with favorite stuffed animals so they could feel them, smell them.

So, all of a sudden, the drama of the morning sounds like a gift-every single bit of it.

Covering you in prayer Sandy Hook Moms!