Fearless

     I just came in while ago from the rain with Madalynn.  I'd gone out on the porch to see about her

and Macklynn.  She called from puddles by the driveway for me to "put on your bathing suit and come play".  We slept in until 11 am, after getting home past 1:30 last night and I was expecting to lounge around all day.  I couldn't tell her "no", so although I did NOT put on a bathing suit, I did get McKala's rain jacket and Melody's boots.  When's the last time you abandoned everything and jumped into a big 'ole puddle?

     We raced up and down, then got on the trampoline because she wanted me to see what it does when it's wet.  Then, we got in the swings my Dad made for them and for some reason she designates the blue one as mine.  She'd asked me last week if I remembered how to swing, so I had to take her up on it.  When my backside had enough of the squeeze, I pushed her as she laughed so hard she snorted.  Her drenched hair hung in her face.  I loved her in that moment so much that it hurt. 

     That's about as "fearless" as I got this week, but I have other stories.   Thursday, when Madalynn came screaming bloody murder down the hall, I was gearing my mind up for something really bad.  I ran outside to see that Macklynn had a snake on his line.  I assumed like anyone would that it had taken the bait; but, no, its 3 foot fat body was hooked.  Michael reeled it in and pinned it with a stick, long enough for someone to hand him Macklynn's hatchet to lop its head off.  Madalynn was enthralled while we all stood by squealing as the head rolled around opening and closing its mouth.

     After Macklynn removed his hook from the scales, he raised the body up by the tail.  Madalynn had to have a go at it, too.  I was never that fearless.  I know the head was gone, but still!

     That night I had dinner with a friend who is brave in her honest pursuit of Christ.  We need friends like that to promote our own fearlessness.  Friday night, after we filled in for a job Mike intended to volunteer for, we went to pick him up from his 2 week "deployment" in Mississippi.  He has plenty of stories from the townspeople about the tornado.  One man was in his wheelchair when it hit his place, knocking him over behind the front door.  The section to the left of the mobile home was swept up while the door protected him from the debris.  How can he have fear now that he's seen what God can do?

      Mike's always loved chainsaws and got to cut down the remainder of a giant tree.  He had some expert advice, but I think to do it alone was fearless.  Miranda and her Betta fish were there alongside him.  She had its glass jar with tall shoots of bamboo buckled into the passenger seat, as she passed from Georgia, through Alabama, to Mississippi!  For a while longer her sister still lives there in Georgia, so it tickles me that she packed up everything, including the fish, and took off.  She says she kept "the bass" down so as not to disturb him ;)

     Miranda's here now.  She's come back home and think what you want about it, but what I know is that she faced her fears when she moved out to begin with last Fall.  This was the girl who would have panic attacks, pondering things late at night when she was away from home too long.  This was the girl who we couldn't get to perform on stage with the dance class until she was nearly 12.  This was the girl who wanted to leave her 8th birthday party because it was too loud and packed.  In my eyes, she's fearless.  She knows now that she can make it out there on her own. 

     Saturday night Michael took a very special girl to her prom.  She has an equally special childhood friend whose brother escorted them all.  The circumstances, "I" think, were orchestrated by God himself.  I especially enjoyed freshening her up after dinner.  She lights up a room, doesn't know a stranger, has unmatched wit, and will stare you down for a straight answer.

     Michael's been fighting allergy symptoms and while we were eating, we were afraid he wasn't gonna be much fun.  After the prom, the foursome went bowling and we snuck in.  The lights were strobing; the music was thumping, and they were STILL dancing.  She was "gettin' down" after each bowl and Michael, free of his sport coat and twill shirt, was pumping his hat bouncing up and down!  The escort said you could see him jumping up 3 feet above everybody at the prom.  Ha! Turns out instead of having to defend (which he had determined he would to no end) his decision, they were a big hit.   Sounds like they danced their hearts out, even drawing people in.  You know, sometimes being fearless is just what everyone wants to see; might even inspire someone :)

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love."  1 John 4:18

     Right now, Mike and Macklynn are watching ocean fishing videos getting ready for the beach.  Macklynn was out earlier in that rain fishing until his hands were numb.  We have a family date planned at 9 pm tonight to watch a new "River Monsters".  Seems like we have another fearless Harper on our hands ;)                                                                                                            

      

Send Me

     I'd call this post "Uprising" but that wouldn't be enough.  I'm certainly glad to see our 2 oldest girls dig deeper for the meaning of their lives.  I'm certainly glad they have the "freedom" to quit their jobs and career paths if prompted.  Because of their convictions to be chaste, they don't "have" to remain in the settings of verbal abuse just so they can put food on the table for a little person.  Tons of young women do.  Because our girls are learning what debt does, they are removing themselves from it and releasing themselves from the grip it uses to prevent them from swimming against the current. 
     Megan, when's the last time I told you about Megan?  A few months ago, she decided to step back into school and enrolled to take online classes from a Christian university, straight As so far.  She called bummed last night that she's got an 86 average in a class.  This is from a young woman who works nearly 60 hours a week, is self sufficient, and still finds a way to make it to church at least 3 times a week and to make time for her sister and extended family regularly. 
     Miranda's the one on a mission right now, down in Mississippi with her Daddy, helping tornado victims.  Megan's on a mission too; she just might not know it yet.  She can't find satisfaction in her job as a service advisor.  Some say the responsible thing is to flower or at least be content with your circumstances.  Does that apply when you have the power to change them?  It does if your purposes are God led?  I'd say, if your purposes are "right", but that term can be manipulated.
     Megan, the driven one, the stick it out to the end one, decided to give her notice last week.  That very day, a leader from her church asked if she'd apply for an intern position, the kind of thing she's surely interested in.  To that, I encouraged her neither way, but quoted to her something I'd just read, "Setting priorities means saying yes to the best. The best thing is God, because God wants the best for you. But in order to say yes to the best, you have to say no to the good. Remember, good is the enemy of best."
     Within days, Megan's boss from her last job put a personal plea in for her to come back as a technician, and for more money, because he says he needs "someone with a brain", "someone who can handle the programming and wiring".  It feels good to be wanted and appreciated for what you're trained for, but is it what God is drawing you out for?  Are you sacrificing your spiritual and physical health for it?  Is it worth it?  Or does God have something bigger in mind? 
     When God asks, "Who will go?" how many of us really can and will "go"?  How many of us will "let go" to all that we know and to all that makes us comfortable and safe?  I've been reading Francis Chan's "Crazy Love".  He sites Amos 6:1, "Woe to them that are at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, which are named chief of the nations, to whom the house of Israel came!"  Do we really believe that God allowed America to prosper just so its citizens could live the "American Dream"?  How selfish and unGodly.  Chan says, "Lukewarm people do not live by faith; their lives are structured so they never have to .  They don't have to trust God if something unexpected happens - they have their savings account.  They don't need God to help them - they have their retirement plan in place.  They don't genuinely seek out what life God would have them live - they have life figured out and mapped out.  They don't depend on God on a daily basis - their refrigerators are full and, for the most part, they are in good health.  The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God."
     Hebrews 11:8, "By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into the place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went."  Before that in 11: 6, "But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."  A person can study theology all day long and miss the real point.  A person can embrace a responsible lifestyle and still miss the real point.
     For those of us who store up for the days of oblivion, remember, "And I will say to my soul; Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.  But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night they sould shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou has provided?  So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." ~ Luke 12: 19-21.  Yes, it goes on to the familiar, "Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on."  But why do we dissect the Bible so much and only stay familiar with our favorites?  And of course, I too am inclined to be self reliant and "prepared" but do you work out your salvation as much as you "prep" for the future?
     In another book I'm reading, "Growing Great Kids", I'm given advice to "channel" our children's gifts and I do believe that giving them tools and opportunities is crucial, BUT will they use them for their own amusements and prosperity or for the Kingdom, for the least of these?  I pray they not use them to give God tokens.  Chan writes, "It's easy to fill ourselves up with other things and then give God whatever is left.  Hosea 13: 6, 'When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; they they forgot me.'  God gets a scrap or two only because we feel guilty for giving Him nothing.  A mumbled three-minute prayer at the end of the day, when we are already half asleep.  Two crumpled-up dollar bills thrown as an after-thought into the church's fund for the poor.  Fetch, God!" 
     Chan also responds to doubt, "The answer to each of these questions is simply this: because He's God.  He has more of a right to ask us why so many people are starving.  As much as we want God to explain himself to us, His creation, we are in no place to demand that He give an account to us."  I read this to a woman in the waiting room at the orthodonist's office yesterday.  At first I was apprehensive to join the existing conversation, but I heard my "in" and it was "on".  After the hour long wait for our kids, she told me that I had blessed her.  Me?  The enemy gets in my ear constantly, "You're not ready.  Who are you to tell that?  Who are you to speak when you have so many loose ends?  Who are you; don't you know who are?"
     Why, yes, I do know who I am regardless of the thoughts and temptations that bombard me, regardless of the perfection that escapes me!  As our cousin, Kimberly, quoted this morning,
"Hello, my name is regret
I’m pretty sure we have met
Every single day of your life
I’m the whisper inside
That won’t let you forget
Hello, my name is defeat
I know you recognize me
Just when you think you can win
I’ll drag you right back down again
‘Til you’ve lost all belief
These are the voices, these are the lies
And I have believed them, for the very last time
Hello, my name is child of the one true King."
     When we claim all that grace bestows on us, everything else is behind.    While we're fighting ourselves, getting our acts together, the world's people are losing hope.  I've been putting off visiting the Crisis Pregnancy Center, not because I have no desire to assist there, but because I've been waiting for the "optimal" time.  It can't wait on me anymore.  I have a story to tell with one or a million, and it has to be told. 
     We may or may not be called to another land but while I am here, I can do more.  I WILL NOT negate my responsiblities at home, instead use them as a catapult to show our children that there is more to life than education, entertainment, security, and comfort.  When you're past the obvious, when your past apologetics because you know that you know that you know the Bible is real, when you're past 4-H  because you're livin' it, when your're past the classes and programs because you don't need to be convinced anymore, then you are the harvest.  Feed God's people unabashedly.  Storm the world with love.
     In this moment, this makes me cry, a lot, for what we're missing.  We shout out, "But we are Americans!  Land of the Free!"  And because of that, we should be ashamed for the freedoms we've stolen to ourselves.
     How many of us would, not could, just get "caught up" in the things of God?  Radically.  Miranda's only 18, but she's had her share of persecution, being called "Virgin Mary" by her superiors, taunted for her failures, used for her strengths and work ethics.  So, when she was pursued and given no relief, she simply "quit" a good paying job (in GA), packed her car with all the essentials, told her manager that she'd rather serve for God than for tips, and met up with her Daddy and Samaritan's Purse volunteers.  Not so her Daddy could console her or take responsibility for her, but so she could find something bigger than herself.  She's letting go.  Are you really, I mean really, willing to do that?  You can't; you have responsiblities, debts, issues?  No, I said, are you willing?   God doesn't need your ways or your provisions, just your will and mine.  Will your heart speak the words, "Send me"?  I don't mean only on a trip (which is a great beginning; I've never even been on one myself.)  But will you surrender your life for God's mission, no matter what it is?
    

You Don't Know What You're Missing

     As I sat reading by the pond yesterday evening, Michael was splitting the trunk of a fallen tree by the creek.  He called over, "Mama, look," when the young cows in the adjacent pasture were wrestling their horns together.  A few minutes later, he called his little brother to come see the bizarre worms he'd found in the wood.  Macklynn left using his birthday hatchet and ran over exuberantly in hopes of having something new to fish with. 

     In the next 15 minutes or so, the boys walked together up toward the house, Michael bearing the ax and Macklynn the hatchet as he talked about ribs they'd put on the grill and were going to check.  It isn't always so peaceful or ideal, but it's what we do.

     Michael started last year as a 14 year old.  In trying to save his trucking business of 20 years, his Daddy was only home about 36 hours a week.  As the truck began to fail and resources ran dry, Michael worked with him for days and weeks to fix the incessant problems.  They'd put on their greasy clothes (pictured along with his hunting, barn, and football garb) and head out to troubleshoot.  As the demise happened, we learned to do without.  Michael learned humility when so many answers were "no", as he saw God provide for the things we truly did need.

     He learned to do the barber's job, to cut his and his brother's "high and tight" flat tops, no easy task.  He auctioned all of his calves but one before they were optimally ready because we couldn't afford the feed.  He taught archery lessons and as if he were not frugal enough, he became moreso.  He morphed into the "man of the house".  His basketball coach, who'd wooed him to come play for the military prep school he'd attended, said that Michael didn't need to be raised by women.  I agreed yet rebutted that he'd become protective of his sisters.  He'd stepped up to guard and repair things of the home.  He's flourished in that setting, apart from peers, not because of them.

     If we'd sent Michael to that school, he'd have missed the transition of his father.  It's still a huge work in progress as we adjust to the reality that God cleared the path for his Daddy to work in the ministry for Samaritan's Purse.  What a turn of events!  Michael, his brother, and 5 sisters now have opportunities to not only volunteer in our community the way they have been, but also to travel the country as disasters strike and actually work to help people set their homes, hearts, and lives back in order.

     Again this year, Michael will help plant our large garden.  Our neighbor has gone about teaching our children how to work his Percheron horse: to plow, to drive, to ride.  Since his sister has been sick, he's taken it upon himself to be the "custodian" of the garden, riding his Daddy's old dirt bike over across the creek to monitor it when he's here.  Michael's also volunteered as a "captain" at the summer camp we've been involved in for many years.  He spent 4 weeks there last summer guiding and cleaning up after younger kids.  He's hoping to go to the University of Georgia's football camp this summer, then back to "captain" again.  He'll return in time to bring in much of the harvest.  He's at home there, in the middle of growing things, inanimate and animate.  He wrote recently that he spends his time with the Lord out in the open.  All the animals, especially one of the pigs, and excepting the rooster, have affection for him as does he for them.

     He passed the Hunter Safety Course and the Driver's Permit Class, where he carried the teacher's books to the car.  When we were eating out recently, a waitress dropped her tray.  In the crowded room, Michael was the only one who knelt to help her.  What's glorious is that I didn't have to give him "the eye".  You see, I want him to have a good career; but moreso, I want him to follow Christ enough to be the best husband, father, and citizen he can.  Even now, he disciplines his younger siblings without my bidding. 

     After 2 months of the Whooping Cough, then in the close quarters of staying in a hotel for 3 weeks together while repairs were being done on our house this winter, I got to see where we need improvement.  Michael has insight now into the direction his life is going and submits his will more readily to it.  We found a dynamic church to join that expects its young people, not to be involved in their own group, but to be wholeheartedly involved in every facet of the church's existence.  He sees value and gravity in the "Foxe's Book of Martyrs" that lies by his bed.  He has, "And Then Came the Angels," a story of a young man who was shot in the head while hunting.  He finds inspiration in Tim Tebow's and Tom Landry's and Jack Trice's stories.  His Daddy and I have found things to captivate him in articles about Nick Saban's philosophy and Mark Richt's beliefs.  He has the documentary, "Undefeatable".  We watch "Facing the Giants" and "The Blind Side" and the series, "A Football Life."  We expect that he'll use any podium he attains to follow the professional players who are stepping forward as examples in places like Billy Graham's organization to say, "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you," ~ Matthew 6:33.  Michael was quoted recently after reading, "Just Friends," that he doesn't need a girlfriend because he isn't getting married until he's got a job, and in or done with college.  I have the position in God's timing throughout the days to subtly pass on articles to him about the snares of pornography, debt, and foolish disregard of the fleeting time of youth ...or to simply set my Bible in front of him when I come across something I should share.

     Some say a well-rounded education involves study of the classics.  I say for a solemn young man, who says if he wrote a book of the Bible, it would be Jude for its brevity, that making reading material available on what sparks his flame is indispensible.  I would not fashion him into a fraud with meaningless ramblings.  Making material available for what he desires to do and create are equally paramount.  As I watched a program with the girls a few weeks ago, Michael had been in the garage crafting a handsome knife from a steel file and a black walnut stump.  Anything to do with weaponry, markmanship, pyrotechnics "fires" him up, but not quite as much as the "gridiron"does. 

     He's been playing football since he was 8 years old.  We've moved 3 times and he's played for 5 different leagues.  He won the "Defensive Player of the Year" when he played for Parks and Recreation at Union Grove (public) School and the "Christian Character" Award at Statesville Christian School - mind you he didn't even attend the school!  Surely, you've ascertained by now that we homeschool ...and always have.  The coach who nominated him to attend the private military academy that year did not invite any of the students at the Montessori school where he coached.  Michael's a leader on the field.  I've had a fellow player of his approach me at a restaurant and say, "I wouldn't have gotten through the game without Michael."  The cardiologist's wife Michael's ridden to games with says, "Michael's a delight; he can ride with us anytime."  He's well equipped to be received in all circles of life, young and old, affluent and not so much.  And, no, he's not even missing the prom this year; he's going twice.  

     Michael is an upcoming sophomore.  He's 6'4, 213 pounds now.  His experiences and strengths have made him adept to perform well in many trades or careers, but He's honed his sites on playing college football.  Last year, he played for The Pioneer League travel team, where he was the youngest player on varsity.  Not only is it a burden for our large family to spend the fee, plus gas money and time to drive 45 minutes to practice, but also Michael wants more exposure to scouts by playing at a highly competitive level.  He looks up routines online and under the supervision of his Orthopedic NP, he currently works out every day, including shaping up his dear old mom.  A principal has made the concession to give him access to their state of the art weight room if Michael will take 2 courses on campus and 2 online, as a fulltime student.  I'm glad to have that vote of confidence, except that it would inhibit the lifestyle and the ability to perform volunteer service to his fellow man, which have thus far shaped him into the young adult and entrepreneur he is, well on his way to becoming an asset to society. 

   Some lawmakers ask me, "Why should we give you access to a sport at a school you don't attend?"  I answer, "Why not?  You don't know what you're missing."

      

    

      

"Fast Cars and Freedom"

     Mike and I went to the marriage seminar at our church.   We thought we'd heard it all, but the BBQ dinner is what threw it over for us to attend :)  What really matters is WHERE your heart is WHEN you hear it.  We enjoyed every minute and will have work to do forever I suppose. 
     The story of Hosea was used as an illustration.  I'd be his Gomer.  My life would be so utterly different without the grace bestowed on me.  How easily I forget.  Oftentimes, I'm bothered by things like him eating the candy from the table the whole time, him knowing fullwell what the doctors said only 4 days ago.  On top of that, he ate all the candy that I liked.  He said there were some on the tables behind us, and I'll be doggone if someone else didn't go through and swipe all of them during the break!  I didn't need them anyway.  I was trying to sit up straight the whole time so my belly didn't hang out any more than it had to.
     It was interesting to learn about "love languages" and to figure out which ones he and I appreciate.  When he was wooing me back, oddly one of the things I appreciated most was when he made my coffee for me.  I'm not sure why, but it tickled me pink.  One morning he was walking around in the kitchen upstairs and I screamed at him to stop and he did, for good.  That's what happens when we scold someone who's trying to change.  He hasn't made my coffee since.  I apologized to him for that.  We have so much to do and learn, it's as though we just got married.  That's why it's so important to us to raise children who know better than to do what we have.
     About the time they started the segment on parenting, the engines fired up at the drag strip down the road.  I'd be all happy about how much I agreed on what we were hearing, when I'd look over at Mike and know he was grinning mischievously about the engine roar. 
     We went straight to the strip afterwards.  They were finishing up, so it was free.  You folks who don't think Christians have any fire are wrong.  Mike and I still both like fast cars.  It's just finally sunk in that there's more to life.
     You "ain't" been on much of a ride 'til you've taken my Daddy's Shelby GT500 SVT Cobra up I-285 in Atlanta!  What a rush.  He'd let me take it out when we were visiting.  The breather vents on the hood let out a hiss like a jet taking off.  I'd still be spinning the tires in 4th. 
     The convertible GT Mustang Mike bought me for Mother's Day was a pretty sweet ride, too.  A few years later, the GTO  he got within 24 hours of buying our Yukon was an incredibe ride; nothing around could stop it until that fateful night:  the cold December night I walked up the long hill lined with stopped traffic, 7 months pregnant.  I found the ambulance and stepped into it but gasped when I saw that a child was in there with Mike.  I immediately turned around and walked out.  I didn't know how to react.
     The little boy with a feared collapsing lung and his sister with a broken ankle ended up okay.  Their mother was not.  She couldn't be taken further than the local hospital because her internal bleeding was so terrible.  Actually, when I tried to find out about her, the staff was confused because her bleeding had made her appear pregnant, but "I" was pregnant.  I think she suffered similar injuries to the ones Mike had after his lithotripsies.  She's scarred but thank God she lived ...and is one of my Facebook friends.
     Mike's bones in his foot were broken in half and his shoulder joint, tendons, muscles and all were completely disconnected from his body, only skin holding the front of his arm on.  After 6 months in a wheelchair, he went back to his hauling business.
     We've had our "go".  Some people haven't and think they're missing something.  If missing something is being strapped to $600+ car payments, then have at it.  But let me tell you, it's not worth it.  If you're "dying" to drive something, go find a rental.  That's what Mike does now.  The Harley dealership knows him by name.  It's about that time for him to hop on one and go.
     He had a Honda Hurricane when I met him.  My mom told me I'd better never get on that thing.   I was a wild one and you know I did.  We'd ride to the lake.  The wind made me feel like no one existed but him and me.  But we know our secrets will be found out, so one night I "wiggled" and we laid it down.  The only real injury I had was a blue backside.  I had to sit on pillows at school for weeks. 
     I always was a sucker for "fast"!  Although, I might've liked cruising around in his Dad's old '69 Chevy truck even better.  The country song, "Sounds So Good," brings flashbacks.  Mike and I were hard and heavy.  And we paid for it.  We still do.  We're both head strong, passionate, fierce; but instead of facing the world, we turned it on each other.  We need all the conferences we can get to correct the habits we've formed.  Although I've known for lots of years what a wife should be, I've had my limits and fired back when I should've trusted my Saviour to be my defense.
     So, here was this man standing close beside me, leaning on the rail at the drag strip where years ago, he'd taken "my" Mustang and a friend's bike down.  He was sober.  His eyes were on me.  His words were pure.  He humbly drove me there in a dated Diamante he just paid cash for.  He's so changed that he'd drive it into the front parking space anywhere.  He'd just taken me to a marriage seminar.  He opened the car door for me when we left and thankfully I remembered not to walk around, like I did a while back when I thought he wanted me to drive home!  He had on and keeps on Christian radio, not for me ...but because He's found freedom in something besides fast cars and fast times. 

Try On

     So every now and then, you gotta have a "try on".  Now, for women who have to dress up to get out every day, I guess it comes around more often.  I've been putting it off for a long, long time.  But when I weighed and had lost a couple more pounds, I had confidence to "just do it".  By the way, obedience will do that for you - give you confidence! 
     It started with bathing suits; we're supposed to go on vacation to Panama City soon.  We haven't been to the ocean in 7 years.  We haven't had anything more than a weekend stint here or there since.  I tried on the suit I wore the last time we went, when Macklynn was 1 year old.  Oh my, that was 30 pounds ago!  I won't be able to pull that one off.  I'll not be discouraged though, because there's still our 24th anniversary, July 1.  There's my 42nd birthday at the end of July.  Actually, there's whenever God wills it for me.  Why is it we think we can put God's timing on a calender?
     I wear white pants in the summer.  Along with holey jeans, they're my version of shorts.  I put on my white Polo chinos and couldn't even touch the button to the button hole.   Problem is I wore them to the NRA Convention in Charlotte 2 summers ago!  Wait a minute, I only weigh 8 more pounds.  I have a theory: since I don't have a baby to nourish, my estrogen levels have swung.  Then, there's the fact that I am in my 40s, but my cycle hasn't changed enough to excuse myself with it.  THEN, I can't dismiss that I stopped excercising altogether last year after I had 4 injuries.  My muscle has deterioted and fat has taken its place.  And not just regular fat but the lumpy kind.  I still attribute some of that to the blood thinners I was on with both of the last pregnancies.  Cellulite just "appeared" on the front of my legs then. 
     Speaking of cellulite, I found some old bottles of a "smoothing" agent to use between now and the beach, but you and I know it's just a quick fix.  Our next door neighbor brought over all kinds of homeopathic cream samples from her employer.  I'll use those because a woman can use all the help there is.  I battle acne continually.  I have so many stretch marks and wild hairs that I could easily become disheartened.  My hair is turning white in the temples.  I don't wear make-up or fix my hair for the same reasons I did when I was a young woman.  I'm just trying to be presentable, to not scare anybody off ;)
     But being fit is different - this is my LIFE we're talking about.  Then again, it's not my life nor my body.  It's Christ's, then my husband's.  Yes ladies, it is:   "The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife," ~ 1 Corinthians 7:4.  I have failed miserably at this.  And whoever draws out the verse, "For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come," ~ 1 Timothy 4:8, isn't validating much.  Of course, doing God's work trumps exercising (and everything, for that matter), but who "works" at all anymore?
     Our work will be in the yard for several days.  I'm spending this weekend camping on the front porch with the kids.  I'm basking by the pond because we all know tan fat is nicer than white fat.  I intend to bathe and blog and concentrate on "feeling pretty".  Women know what I'm talking about.  If we don't "feel" pretty, pretty doesn't mean anything.  Michael's waiting for me right now to trim a tree to my liking.
     He's been advised to gain weight for the upcoming football season.  We weighed the same a month ago!  He and I made a pact: a trade off of minds and bodies.  I give him all I have in math.  He gives me all he has in fitness.  I love it, the comradery of my son.  I hope you'll pray that we have success.  We Harpers have decided we need to step it up, more kindness and more discipline.  We can all always give more, so get out there and "just do it". 
    
   

Something about K

     People remember McKala.  Today she was told her childhood librarian mentioned her lately.  I was on the phone this past week with our newly elected NC State Representative.  Her granddaughter played basketball with McKala, and Rep. Turner called her by name.  I know some are just good with names, but McKala has a presence that leaves people with an impression.  She is immovable.  She is someone whom everyone can depend on.  She means what she says and backs it up. 

     She rubs some people wrong.  I've narrowed it down to the reflection they get of themselves when mirrored off her.  She has no trouble believing The Word of God.  She has no trouble defending it.  Her confidence can portray itself as arrogance.  Grace isn't easy for everyone.  Truth be told, it's awfully difficult to be grace"full" with people who have it all and are in irreverent disregard of God's ways and blessings.

     She cuts to the chase.  She works hard.  She can do more than most grown women are capable of or willing to do.  She's a rock.  But every now and then, she confuses her opinions, right as they may be, with moral grounds.  She got on one of those kicks last week and I cut her down to size.  In so doing, I said I thought with all she'd been through, she'd have done away with that.   I don't know exactly how I put it, but she was left feeling like I said she's deserved to be so sick, as if she's gain no humility from it.  She's cried more than once over it since, which is hard for me to witness because I know how much gravity it must hold to happen.

     To the left, sleeping with her dying calf under a heat lamp, in the fall of 2011, she lost 3 of her 4 calves she'd bought. She suffered right alongside them.  In the spring of 2012, she was First Base for her travel softball team.  Their sponsorship fell through and she lost something else she cherished.  Those same months she raised money and prepared to volunteer at Uplands Reach last summer.  It's a Christian camp, not your run of the mill, but with high behavioral and work ethics.  She's always loved horses and was to help be in charge of them; I'm not sure she'd ever been that excited about anything.  They'd even mentioned sending her out West for extensive training.

     She was put on an inhaler in late 2011.  I was shocked that it wasn't a "passing thing".  McKala was born strong.  She even had hamstring muscles when she was a toddler.  She literally only got sick about half the times that the other kids did.  I began to wonder if she'd contracted something from the calves and had her tested for Tb.  I still wonder, just like I do about whether or not Macklynn had West Nile Virus when he was paralyzed (afterall they'd just left The Florida Keys).  She knew she was already declining in softball before it ended, but held high hopes for camp.

     We didn't know that it would rain almost daily the summer of 2012.  We didn't know she was allergic to mold and how much she'd be exposed to, and that we'd also find it at home.  We didn't know it would take such a toll that they would find one of their hardest workers all but passed out in front of the fans for the horse ring.  We didn't know that her oxygen levels would drop and drive up her pulse.   We didn't know that she'd have to come home. 

     One of the camp owners had taken me aside and told me how different McKala was.  She told her later that she compares her in character to her own daughter.  This is what McKala wanted to do with her life.  Instead, she was on bed rest (sleeping over 15 hours a day) while we waited, as Mike was losing his business, for Medicaid to kick in so that she could be tested.
     Sure enough, she's become allergic to a good many things, thankfully not to the animals themselves.  She showed improvement once she was on a course of medicines.  In December though, the whole family came down with something, which we now firmly believe was The Whooping Cough.  Don't confuse that with The Croup.  I mean "The Whooping Cough".  No one was well again until February.  McKala took the brunt of it.  There were nights that she would wake up coughing so violently that she would vomit and the pressure would cause her nose to bleed.  It was pitiful.  We were told she had pneumonia. 
     Of course, she relapsed in progress after missing her allergy shots for 6 weeks because of her weakened state.  Then in March during a consultation, I insisted on more blood work but not for what we found.  She tested positive for Walking Pneumonia.  It disguises its mutated self as a virus; therefore, customary antibiotics don't destroy it and if left undetected, it has the ability to kill.
     The suspicion is that she's had it since December.  She was given 2 antibiotics.  One has 2 weeks left.   I told a couple of people tonight that I'm about ready to have her anointed with oil.  It is Biblical, you know.  
     You see, there's no way she "deserved" this.  That's like saying the 19 month old child we know deserves her brain cancer.  We all learn through suffering, but what McKala has taught us is how to suffer well.  She is Philippians 4: 11-13.  The doctor has to prod her with questioning to get details.  She's smiling when she must feel like her world is caving.

     Guess what, her testimony is stronger for it.  She put in writing herself.  Her empathy for others is stronger.  There's no possible way to know others' pain without going through it.  Her will is stronger.  Satan would have her lame and useless.  She won't settle for that destiny. 

      Before, she would walk faster than us all.  She could raise the roof with her voice.  She'd volunteer in a heartbeat for a good cause.   She'd love babies and children until there were no more.  She'd cook and clean to perfection.  She'd enjoy weed eating and all the great outdoors.  She always, since she was little, got up first and got dressed nicely for the day.  She's always smiled and been resilient to no end.  And some people can't stand her for it.  But I know the image they see of themselves when projected off her.  God is in her, plain and simple.

     She's lost her efficacy at most things, yet there is a young man who has grown to love her for her heart in midst of her sickness.  It gives definition to "in sickness and in health".  He's known her in health also; he's been a family friend since she was 7 years old.  They talk of their future.  He's asked her to his senior prom.  She has something to be excited about again.   For most of us, "The Prom" is nothing more than an opportunity to get away with the worst, but for McKala it will be a time to shine, to be prim and proper, or silly and sassy.  Whatever it is for her, I thank him for it ...and for loving my daughter, when so many things she loves have slipped through her fingers.  And I can't blame him; there's something about K. 
     And for you, K, "Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ." ~ Philippians 1:6.

What'll It Be?

     Friday morning we ran the routine for a spontaneous road trip:  dishes and laundry up, trash and food out.  Michael and I finished off the deviled eggs Melody made from the ones they'd colored.   No, we don't "hunt" eggs, but I ease up enough to let them color some.   Since we secured the help of friends to feed the animals, we left easy.  What kind of friends feed your animals on Easter Sunday?  The best. 
     I so seldomly have to drive in the morning that I didn't consider how much I'd need my sunglasses.  I'm gonna give my husband due props here for making it possible for me, to be home about the business of the household every morning. 

     Mike decided it was time to venture down south to our parents and eldest daughters.  We surprised both girls by showing up where they work.  Megan was at lunch, so the dealership staff called to tell her she had an irate customer in service and to get straight back.  Poor thing, her hands were trembling from stress when she returned, mostly because there was an accident out front and she was afraid it was from work she'd advised.  Miranda stopped short of tackling us when we came through the entrance of the restaurant she serves in.  We hadn't seen our girls at these workplaces, so it was a treat for us all.

     We got right into the thick of things when we arrived at Memaw and Pop's.  Mike, Michael, and Pop went straight to work on replacing our brakes.  Memaw and Melody started a cake.  Macklynn and Madalynn had the toys from the closet drug out in minutes.  Soon, some of them were fishing, but not before Madalynn ran full force into the glass door.  She's a tough one; she just bounced off, paused long enough for us look at her red forehead, and kept going.  

     We slept with the window open.   Saturday morning Miranda jumped in our bed.  We didn't know she had texted McKala to let her late after she got off work.  Mike and Memaw took the older kids on a search for prom garb for McKala and Michael.  What better place to do it than in the Atlanta area?  Success!   Meanwhile, Pop rode Macklynn and Madalynn around on the 3 Wheeler he restored from the time Mike and his sister, Mandy, rode it. 

     When we all converged, Pop showed Michael how to use his lathe.  That's where the baton of heritage is passed on and was worth the whole trip. 

     When Megan got off work, she eagerly took Mike, McKala, and me to a special service at the church she and Miranda attend.  She had also invited Mom and Dad.  Since they didn't know we were even in the state, they too were surprised!   Everything there was contemporary for sure, but the sermon was straightforward and faithful to The Word that if we have been "rescued" by The Cross, then we will be "rescuing" others. 

     Sunday morning we went early for the traditional service at Memaw and Pop's church in Peachtree City.  I was greeted immediately by a woman with nothing but compliments for my blog.  I need to apoligize now for the oversights I make before I post.  Oftentimes, I drop and run, not realizing how many people are reading.  Anyhow, I really, really enjoyed having all the kids in a row and getting to sing "He Lives" ..." Because he lives I can face tomorrow, Because he lives all fear is gone, Because I know he holds the future, And life is worth the living just because he lives."  (The last sentence makes me want to rename my blog :)  I don't like organ music, even so I can't for the life of me figure out why "contemporary, worship oriented" churches can dismiss the magnitude of a song like that.  It's truly a shame.  And our kids agree.

     Memaw prepared some great food.  Mandy and Gregg showed up with some more.  We adults haven't all sat together for a meal in a long time and it was very nice considering we almost lost one of us a few weeks ago to what would've been a "widow maker".  

     The kids sped over to "Bubba's Pond" to get in some real fishing time.  Bubba is Mike's closest friend and has been since they were 15 years old.  Mike and I spent a good bit of time there when we were dating.  Bubba's pretty daughters were also there Sunday; so everyone, especially Michael, was happy.  They've all been friends since they were as young as Macklynn and Madalynn.  

     We pulled them together in time to be "fashionably late" to Mom and Dad's.  Good food is always found there, so is some kind of fun in the garage.  Melody, Macklynn, and Dad played pool for hours and came back in time to watch the sobering final episode of "The Bible" on The History Channel.  

     Monday we straightened and gathered to leave for North Carolina.  Madalynn was still out following Pop's cats in the fish pond garden.  It was a relief not to be on constant guard of a toddler, but she kept me on my toes because she moved about so much, comfortable in her surroundings.  

     We stopped by Megan's work again because Madalynn left her stuffed cat on Megan's bed when we got to see their place for the first time.  Macklynn said, "I can tell this is Megan's bed because of how it smells." ~ sweet!  I found on her bookshelf the book I've been looking for for 6 months!   Macklynn found his fishing pliers in her car door.  Melody left her makeup in Miranda's car Saturday, so she brought it to her at some crazy hour Saturday night and then took McKala to buy something for church she'd intended to get until "we showed up".  It was all fun until they noticed a guy following them.  
    Going through Atlanta, "The Varsity" was a given.  "What'll ya have?  What'll ya have?" is a tradition.  Mike, blind to the events that would take place a few hours later, took a picture to post of his onions rings and 3 chili dogs.  He kindly got all the kids Coke instead of water.  It was a miserable mistake because the little ones were rambunctious all ...the ...way ...home.   I remembered how nice it was to have the TV in the new Sienna we had.  Though, I'd be an idiot not to appreciate how great it is not to have a payment on our '05 Caravan.  Hey, a minivan's a minivan to me.  It ain't never gonna be a Challenger SRT ;)
     Suddenly, one of the kids realized that "NONE OF THE ADULTS HAD ARGUMENTS ON THIS TRIP!"  Okay, maybe you don't know us, but take my word on this, THAT'S a big deal.  We had to admit that Mike's way worked. 

      As good as the trip was, Mike's neck hurt along his Carotid Artery the entire time.  We decided he should stop by Urgent Care before we went on home.  I hadn't even returned with supper, when they had him transported by ambulance ACROSS THE STREET to the ER.  I told them in no uncertain terms that it wasn't necessary.  The paramedics and ER doctor agreed.
     So, here we are, admitted into a room.  I've had time to cover more of C. S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters", written in 1942.  It's not an "easy read".  I think I'll narrate it to the kids, so they can get the most out of it.  It's a wouldbe playbook for the devil himself.  It shows how subtlely he makes us ineffective.  How foolish we are! 
     There's a letter fired specifically toward gluttony.  Screwtape tells his protege, "One of the great achievements of the last hundred years has been to deaden the human conscience on that subject, so that by now you will hardly find a sermon preached or a conscience troubled about it in the whole length and breadth of Europe."  "She would be astonished - one day, I hope, 'will' be - to learn that her whole life is enslaved to this kind of sensuality ...to produce querulousness, impatience, uncharitableness, and self-concern?"  "The real value of the quiet, unobtrusive work which Glubose has been doing for years on this old woman can be guaged by the way in which her belly now dominates her whole life."
      I think the worst thing about blatantly and willfully remaining in our sin is it gives the impression to people, especially younger ones, that because we appear not to pay for it that it's somehow overlooked.  You know, each of us knows someone who smoked 'til they were 92 or drank 'til they were 85 or was fat 'til they were 73.  Do we believe that a passivist sinner is better than activist one?  Of course, we do.

     So, now Mike's had all the tests.  He's all right but is a prime candidate for things that won't be "all right".  What'll it be, Mike?  What'll it be?  As far as that goes, what'll it be, Michelle?  What'll it be?