Just because . . ..

This pic makes me laugh and today I desperately need a reason to laugh.

A Praying Parent. . .

I came upon this verse today from Lamentations 2:19 "Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him for the life of your young children." and I found myself thinking of a couple I know who at this moment I am sure are doing just this---pouring their heart out before God in search of comfort and mercy as they say good-bye to their son.

Their oldest child their son left today for Afghanistan and last week they had a scare with their daughter who seems to have a heart arrhythmia and so the past two weeks have been difficult for them to say the least. Even though their children are no longer young the principle still applies and because of who this couple is I know that they don't need to be told to pray over their children since prayer colors every fabric of their life.

They are prayer warriors and take everything to Jesus in prayer; when they are angry they pray, when they are stressed with business they pour it before God, when they are sad they let their tears flow before Jesus, and when they are full of joy they praise God and sing in worship. Their lives are characterized by prayer and it has made them who they are and I stand in awe of them.

It is this that has made them strong and able to deal with the sacrifice they face now as they say good-bye to their son. It is this heart for God that has helped them face countless trials and stressors and still find joy in each and every day. It is this life commitment to prayer that enables them to be warriors for the Kingdom that is to come and has made them the extra-ordinary people they are. It is this that gives them courage in the face of this new danger to their child(something I could not even imagine), it is this that gives them hope in light of the struggle their daughter faces and it is this that shows me how powerful a praying parent is.

Their children carry the imprint of caring parents that have prayed over them their entire life. Their children are caring, joyful young people involved in Church, and one now one serving his country in such a sacrificial way. I see in their children and other young people whose parents have taken the time and made the commitment to pray over their children and seeing the effects trying myself to much more faithful in my prayers for my children.

Gil and I feel blessed that we know couples like this that can mentor us, in all truthfulness we feel blessed just to know this couple because of how wonderful they are as people and the inspiration their family is to us. We now also have the blessing that they have adopted our children into their hearts and I know they now pray for our children as well as their own and so I want to say to them, "we also have your children in our prayers, especially Jonathan at this time." We love you guys.

You are beautiful. . .

There are so many different ways that beauty speaks to us, in the first laugh of a baby, the funny expressions our two-year old comes up with, and lately in the beauty of your growing up. A mother always hates it when her children begin to exert their independence and grow away from you in life. I hate it and I was blessed with you my oldest daughter being extremely independent. So you have been growing up and away from me from the minute you were born. At four months old you would get angry if you saw us helping you to sit up and we would have to sneak in and hold your pj's where you couldn't see our arms and then you would sit there proud as punch that you were sitting on your own---at only four months. Now we seem to have moved into the phase of slamming doors, rolling eyes, and the constant "oh mother" looks.

You are growing up and out and I hate it. Your arms and legs are at the willowy , gangly stage where you don't seem to quite know how to work them, sometimes giving the appearance that you are doing some sort of wood-nymphy dance by the light of moon and at other times it looks like you are having a seizure as somehow you manage to knock down everything close to you and even some things not so close. You don't seem to know how to work these growing limbs yet, or how to style her hair just right.

Then there's the graceful way you flick your long brown hair behind your ears that takes my breath away how grown up you look, how beautiful you are becoming. The way you mother your brothers and sisters speaking in tones reminiscent of my own showing a maturity few possess at this tender age and then the way you burst into tears once again reminding me that you are only eleven.

You are beautiful with your dark brown hair, and chestnut eyes, that perfect nose that we have yet to trace to either family history. There mischief in those eyes that twinkle, and fire in all your moods and I am aware that the teen years are sure to be hellish. (Envisioning slamming doors here, more rolled eyes, and of course the "I hate you - you are ruining my life"), but I saw something beautiful in a picture today, a picture that you didn't know was being taken or that you were in. Sitting in the corner in this picture there is a look that betrays your real feelings. There is admiration in your gaze a look of wonder a look that says "I want to be like you" and if you follow your gaze you are looking at me (yes me).

I hope in reality you are more like yourself than me, but as you grow away it's nice to know that a part of you still thinks I'm the best mom, even if you can't say it, even if you still roll your eyes, and slam the door, even if you don't think I know it, it's nice to see your pride that I am your mother is still there. There is that look that wants me to see you and be proud of who you are, that part of you that still cares what I think and still needs my approval so. . .

"Yes dearest fire child, I could not be prouder of you or more in awe of who you are and who you are becoming. You're beautiful, and that's for sure. . don't ever ever change."