What Really Matters, According to Me

And now my son Philip is a senior in high school. He is an Eagle Scout. He is preparing to serve a two-year mission. Now he stands on the edge, ready to spread his wings and and fly. Not yet. Soon... but not quite yet... not today... And now my sweet little five year old girl, Emily is at the beginning... kindergarten... while Philip is a senior. Strange to think how many years have blown by since I began motherhood. If I stand back and look at my children as a group... it seems there are quite a few. I understand how some may perceive my family that way. I have to make myself step back to see it, though. I don't normally stand back. I am usually up close. That's the way I like it. That's how mothering works best: Up close...Up close, they don't look like many children. Up close, they look like individuals. I know each one personally. I know the kind of cake Daniel Jr. likes for his birthday. I know Philip's favorite ice cream flavor (flavors! haha). I know the teac...

I love Bob Segar... But wait, I haven't mentioned my sister Melinda. She was like a mother to me when I was a child. She had a rough life. Having been abused as a child, she was spiritually scarred and confused, but she loved me and I loved her. Melinda took me to see Bob Segar in concert one summer he came to San Antonio. I remember driving the hour down I 10 in her old black Chevy pick up, with no air conditioning. I didn't care. Very few cars I rode in in those days had AC. It was the time of my life. I knew Melinda loved me. I felt it. No matter how rough she was or unacceptable to proper society, she was acceptable to me. She had done everything bad a person might think of. She was the person who introduced me to pot and wine coolers. She didn't know she was hurting me. She was trying to draw me closer to her. I don't fault her for any of it. Standing with her and singing and crying listening to Bob Segar live was an amazing, unforgettable experience. "Janie w...

Right around this time of year, every year, I get in a little funk. I know that isn't a real word. It's hard to describe, though. I'm not depressed. I'm not grumpy. I've been called preoccupied. Maybe that's it; Preoccupied. On the 12th of August, 1990 (a lifetime ago for some people), a small girl came into my home, having left the bosom of the Father to be my baby daughter, Heather. She was small, a little premature, but healthy and beautiful. She came on a Sunday. On the 9th of September, 1990 (a lifetime ago for some, but yesterday for me...), the Lord sent an angel to call Heather away from me and back to her heavenly home. It was around 2:00 a.m. The rest of us were sleeping. She left on a Sunday. The four weeks that sweet little girl was mine to hold were brief. Yet, her brief presence in my life has changed me for the rest of my life. One would think there could be no regrets in a four week long relationship, except for regrets for what might have been, ...

Not waves of water and brine, and winds full of sea salt- but passion and contempt within the hearts of men; this is the tempest raging in these last days of earth. This is my blog, so I will say what I think. If you are worried I will offend you, please stop reading. What's going on? Why is rudeness acceptable when it comes to politics? "Where were you when Reagan did the same thing?" "Is it that you just hate the Democrats?" "If it were Bush you wouldn't have a problem." I've had to tell people, "I was a kid when that happened... that's why I didn't have an opinion." "I didn't have kids in public school when that happened." "I didn't vote for him the second time." "I didn't think that was a good idea." etc. etc. People can get so angry and belligerent when it comes to politics. Sometimes people make far reaching assumptions that, in other areas of life would be obviously inappropriat...

The test of a relationship and an individual, as well, is what spills out during crisis. I say ‘spills out’ because of an object lesson that comes to mind from years ago. Imagine two dark colored glass jars sitting undisturbed on a table top. Both are filled to equal amounts with an unknown liquid. The constitution of the liquid is indiscernible due to the dark hue of the glass. Only when the table is disturbed and the jars are overturned may one see what spills from the jars. One jar is filled with honey. The other, filled with vinegar. The lesson here is that: only when we are upset, does our true character reveal itself. So it is in any relationship. The quality and depth of the relationship and the true character of those in relation to each other is revealed when the figurative table is upset. Every person is accountable for the direction in which he persuades each relationship in which he is. If one knows his sister is given to a particular weakness, but provokes her to that poin...