Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thanksgiving -- Being Thankful for the Thorns

I got an e-mail today that told the story of a woman who had suffered a great loss -- she had miscarried a baby as the result of an accident when someone rear-ended her. She went to a florist to get an arrangement because this was when her baby would have been born. The florist asked her if she was looking for a floral arrangement for Thanksgiving. The lady said "no." She was interrupted by a woman who came in asking for her "usual," and the florist disappeared and returned with rose stems without the buds. She thanked the florist and paid and left. The woman who had lost her baby was dumb-founded. The florist explained that a couple of years prior the previous woman had lost her father to cancer, family business was failing, and she had another disaster or two. The lady couldn't find anything to be thankful for. Another man came along and asked for the "special." When the florist disappeared, the man explained that his wife and he had a marriage falling apart when he brought home this bouquet. They chose a problem for each stem and how God had used that problem to grow them and use them. They learned to thank God for the thorns. The florist returned with his budless, thorny stems, and he left happy with his purchase. The original shopper told the florist she would take the "special." The florist said that she had hoped that she would choose that. The florist gave the flowers and the shopper asked how much it would be. The florist said the first one was free, but next year, if you come back, you can pay then. The florist gave her a business card. It was up to the shopper to find the reasons to be thankful for the thorns.

Last year, my thorns were the issues surrounding my mother's stage 3 breast cancer. We found many reasons along the way to be thankful, and we rejoiced this year when her PET scan and bone scan came back negative for cancer. PRAISE THE LORD! This year God was working on me and my marriage. It reminds me of the song I learned as a child..."He's still working on me to make me what I ought to be. It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars the sun and the Earth and Jupiter and Mars. How loving and patient He must be. He's still working on me." When I look to God to fill my needs, He meets them. He doesn't disappoint. He doesn't fail. I am so thankful. He loves me perfectly. He loves me wholly. He loves me without conditions and strings. He has my best interest at heart. I am thankful for a husband who is willing to fight for our marriage, who is open to counsel and marriage retreats. I am thankful for a husband who is a diligent and hard worker and a good provider for our family. I am thankful that God has allowed Patrick to stay with me. Before coming to Mississippi for Thanksgiving, I attended the funeral for the 44 year-old husband of a friend of mine who had survived cancer twice, but died of a sudden heart attack. I am thankful that at night, I can crawl into bed and curl up by my husband to get warm. I am thankful.

Monday, November 17, 2008

My Husband Patrick

I realized today that when I've blogged it's primarily been about my two little crumb crunchers, but I do have another very important person in my life, and his name is Patrick.

In June of 1990, we were set up on a blind date. We both tried to get out of it but failed, and the rest, as they say, is history. He told someone that night that I was the girl he was going to marry, and while I was attracted to him physically I had found out he wasn't a Christian and didn't go to church. These were deal breakers for me. He pursued me heavily that summer, but I was rarely home as I was going on trips with the youth group as sponsor. When I was home, flowers, candies, singing telegrams would arrive at my work. In August without my having anything to do about it, Patrick asked Jesus into His heart, and we started dating. It wasn't anytime before Patrick dropped the "L" bomb. He whispered it in my ear one night at the end of the date. "I love you." I looked up at him quite shocked. It was only September how could he know that when I didn't know that myself. I explained I wasn't ready to say that to him, that I had never told anyone else that, and really had only planned on telling the one I married that. It's not that I hadn't fallen in love. I just wasn't sure. I knew I was definitely infatuated with this slim, broad-shouldered, 5'11", dark hair, green-eyed, nice butt guy. OH MY GOODNESS! Swoon!

I eventually told him I loved him, and his chasing of me slowed down tremendously. He thought he had caught me and that was that. Well, like most men, he wanted more, and he knew it wasn't going to happen. We broke up for a summer while he struggled with his parent's divorce, but as you know the end of the story, Patrick and I got married after 4 1/2 extremely long years of dating. I do not recommend long dating or engagements.

Before Patrick, the guys I dated were all church going, Christians, musically talented, pre-med. When I met Patrick , he wasn't a Christian, didn't go to church, had dropped out of college, and the only thing he played was the radio. He was a "bad boy," and I couldn't resist the bad boy being the good girl. Shortly after meeting me, he returned to college and obtained his degree. During the course of our dating, one of the funnier things that happened were the adventures Patrick would have with my daddy. Both love to camp and fish. One time when Patrick was camping with daddy and one of daddy's buddies, Patrick awoke in the early morning hour to see the other two had left the tent. Not knowing what he would find, he opened the tent flap to see in the full moon light my daddy and his buddy fishing on the bank of this remote bayou stark NAKED! In spite of that, Patrick still asked me to marry him. Patrick was the only guy I dated who lasted longer than three months. I'd get claustrophobic about three months, and I'd move on.

Our first year of marriage was hell on Earth to put it mildly. One of the things I liked most about Patrick was that he would not allow me and my strong personality walk all over him. I respected him for that...until our first year of marriage when he didn't let me have my way hardly at all. All my neat ways of doing things drove him nuts and would purposely mess up my orderly fashion of things. We lived in a loft apartment in the 'hood of Desoto, Texas. I remember our first week back our having an argument, my asking him if he wanted an annulment, him telling me I was being ridiculous, and my stomping up the stairs. I stomped up the stairs a lot while we lived there. And the only door I could slam was the bathroom door, and the bathroom was so small that I couldn't change my mind much less anything else. I would quickly come out of the bathroom totally removing the effect I had hoped to make in slamming the door in the first place. It was immaturity on my part and lack of communication on both our parts. We were living in the 'hood because Patrick had lived on a credit card his last year or so on a credit card, so we were paying them off. And yes, I had him cut up every one of those suckers. We paid off a lot of debt that 6 months to 1 year and managed to save up money over the next year to have money for a down payment on a house.

Each year got better and better. It seems like we go through cycles, and we've had to address trust issues he has because of a past relationship that ended horribly for him, we've had to address anger, resentment, walls around my heart, walking on eggshells, and many more things. God has been so faithful. He is a great healer. I always tried to blame Patrick for what was wrong, but in reality I was looking to him to fulfill my needs when there is no way on God's green Earth he possibly could. He is, after all, human...very human. When I started looking to God to fulfill those, acceptance, comfort, etc., it took a load off my husband's shoulders. I think it allowed him to work on himself and open himself up. We still struggle, but we've come from such a dark place. I was to kick him out. I had already figured out in my mind how we could make things work for the kids. My heart had become so callous and had so many walls built up around it out of protection and I felt justified in doing it. But then I submitted myself to God. God changes things. He humbled me. He broke me down to the bare medal. What God tears down, He rebuilds. I am counting on Him to rebuild not only me, but to continue to rebuild my marriage. Satan will do what he can to destroy a marriage of Christians, but my God is bigger than any issue I may have, Patrick may have or anything that Satan may try to use against us.

I am thankful for my husband. I am committed to our marriage and our family. I commit myself to remain open to God's way and look to Him to meet my needs.

So let me tell you about my husband's wonderful qualities, he is a hard worker. He's diligent. I love to see and hear him when he belly laughs because he covers his mouth with his hand and his shoulders bounce up and down. He can fix anything he puts his hands and mind to. When he allows the God to have control of his heart and mind, Patrick is quite generous. He is tenacious and has chosen a good business partner who also prays for him.

I am praying for Patrick in the area of our marriage, his parenting, his anger management, and his words. He has grown so much this year and matured, but like us all, we all still have room for growth. I love him. I am committed to him and no other man for there is no other man who would have put up with me for this long.

My God is sufficient.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

The Devil Doesn't Wear Prada. He wears 4T and He's Sitting at My Dining Table Burping

I adore my children. Love them with every fiber of my being. We worked so hard to become parents and are truly rewarded with some beautiful children. And while my title is very tongue in cheek, there are times when I do pray the blood of the cross from the top of his beautiful, black curly-haired head to the bottom of his stinky, size 10 1/2 feet. My husband truly has little to no patience with Pearce's strong-willed nature. Patrick was raised with yelling, and yelling is not only unacceptable it's ineffective. So, he is learning some new techniques but still sometimes falls back into his old ways.

So, that leaves it to me to handle most of Pearce's discipline. Toe-to-toe. Bullhead to bullhead. When he's good, I am sure to praise. I took the kids to target to get their Christmas pictures made, and they did so well, and on the way home from the back seat of the car, I hear Pearce say, "We were just little angels." After I regained my composure, I whole-heartily agreed.

I was pregnant with Pearce in my heart from January of 2002 till his delivery on August 27, 2004. Most women have about a 9 month pregnancy, but I knew about Pearce in January of 2002. I was sitting at a girlfriend's funeral of all places, and they quoted Anna Jo's life verse, Jeremiah 29:11. That still quiet voice said to me this was to be the life verse of my next child. Erin had just turned one, and I was having so much fun with her that I really didn't want to even think of another child and told God in essence, "no thank you." After AJ's funeral that verse became an active part in my life. Every time I followed God's lead about adopting again, the verse was quoted by someone, used in a sermon, came up in my devotional...some way God was always giving me confirmation through this verse.

My husband was totally against adopting again. Erin was old enough and pushing heavily for a baby sister Sarah. I just followed God's will and Patrick reluctantly and often times kicking like a two-year old came along. When the social worker came to our home, Erin insisted she give the tour of the house and told the social worker that one bed in her room was hers and the other was her baby sister's bed. When the social worker suggested she may have a baby brother, Erin became rather emphatic that she would have her baby sister named Sarah. While Sarah is a perfectly lovely name, it's not one we would have chosen...there are a lot of Sarah's at our church.

My sweet Pappaw had a aorta hernia. He was 81. He had surgery and never came out of a coma. But faithfully, I went to the hospital every morning before being at work at 7 AM to exercise Pappaw's legs and arms, and I'd talk to him telling everything that was going on, and then I'd go back at lunch to do the same. Sometimes I threatened to paint his toes "Hortense Red" if he didn't wake up. When I knew that Pappaw wouldn't be leaving the hospital in August of 2003, I told him to tell Jesus to send me a baby boy. I wanted a baby boy. I told him on several occasions.

In May or June of 2004, I knew. I knew we would have a boy even though we weren't matched. I started buying baby boy stuff...I couldn't help myself. We were matched with a b-mom that we met with, but whom went MIA (missing) shortly thereafter, and while I wasn't devastated like I thought I would be, I was fine with it. We had talked to another b-mom and she said she was going to choose us to adopt her 10 month old, but we got the call from the agency that she had chosen someone else. Daggers in my heart. That sent me to the sofa for the weekend of August 27, 2004, my parent's anniversary weekend. The Monday following they wanted me to talk to another b-mom, and I just didn't have it in my but did it anyway. It was on Wednesday that we got the call we had been selected to be the parents to a Hispanic baby boy born on August 27th, my parent's anniversary and the b-mom's birthday. His b-mom's Sarah. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN COINCIDENCE AT ALL. THIS WAS ALL GOD.

Women who are able to give birth to their children never have to wonder, "Is this my kid?" "Is this the one who is to be my baby, my child?" Children who are adopted, their stories tend to start way ahead of conception. Some of the parties may not be fully aware of all the events surrounding it, but God is steadily working His will in our lives.

BTW, one year from the date of my Pappaw's funeral, I placed Pearce into my Mammaw's arms for the first time, and it was the first time I had told her what I had done. I believe God is in control. I believe that nothing catches Him by surprise, and I believe that God doesn't waste anything.

So, while I may say my little devil wears a size 4T please understand, he's my little devil. He's charming, intelligent, beautiful, funny, inquisitive, perplexing, honery and cantankerous, but he's worth every minute of it.

He just got out of bed and walked into the den. "Mommy, I'm sorry for my behavior." "Thank you, babe. I appreciate that, " I say. "I'll see you in the morning then," he states. "Yes you will. Yes you will." Maybe something I'm doing is sticking. Maybe something we're doing is working on his little heart and mind, but one thing I do not doubt is God chose me to be His mother knowing since I had been an ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder), strong-willed child I was up for the task.

Please, Lord, help me to be the mother Pearce needs me to be. Help Him to see You through me.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Chapter 10 -- The Truth, The Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth

In 2005, I was in Little Rock on an overnight business trip. An occassional overnight business trip is what I consider my "mental health" time. The drive up and back is peaceful. The hotel room is quiet. When I eat there is no arguing or children's meat to cut up. I actually get to eat a hot meal, taste it and digest it. What is there not to relish about this experience on occasion? It's also time I get to spend alone with God. My coworkers and colleagues wanted me to go out to eat, but I wasn't interested this trip. I donned my comfy but pretty pjs, took off my make-up, put on a cleansing mask, took off my slippers and plopped onto the king-sized bed. I had the clicker in my hand looking forward to watching a little TV -- something other than Disney or a children's show. But before I could push the button, the Holy Spirit led me a different direction. I put the remote down and I sat in the dimly lit room and bowed my head. I never said a word, but the Holy Spirit wrote things on my heart that broke my heart and I wept.

For too long I have put my identity in my job. I love telling people I investigate fraud for a living. I love the reaction I get. I love telling war stories. I really love my job. But I have put my value and my identity in it. The Spirit revealed to me that my job could be gone in a heartbeat, and what would my value be? He stripped me down to bare metal in order to rebuild me, to show me my value is found only in Christ. This trip was just another step in God preparing me for my future job, my future leadership. He also provided a mentor -- a lady in my church that I didn't even know very well at all, but her name was the name the Spirit put on my heart over and over, so I followed. She agreed and she shared her testimony with me. She was real about what she had done in her life and she had been down a very similar path as myself. She would also serve as a mentor and support for me when my mom fought Stage 3 breast cancer last year because she was the same age as I was when her mother fought for her life. I don't know why I'm so surprised by the things God does, but I am...and I am so grateful too.

The Spirit also convicted me that night of my dislike of my spiritual gift. Talk about humbling. I was basically taken to the woodshed like my Mammaw says. I had been so vain as to ask God to take the gift away from me at one time, and it went dormant. I refused it because it made me feel uncomfortable, made me feel burdened, and to be quite frank it exhausted me. How egocentrical was I? He has given me a gift to use for His glory and I didn't want it because of what I felt. PLEASE! The truth was He was growing me. Truth is not fun and not easy and not always pleasant. Truth has a way of maturing a person. He has restored His gift to me but now I see it in a different light.

And like Lisa, I have this mom who I strived to be like, but there's just no way. My mother always looks so classy and put together and is so calm. I feel like a strung out version of that pink rabbit with the battery... some may say I strung a bit tight at times. I have opinions and a mouth (that I'm constantly trying to bridle). I am creative and resourceful. I am not my mother. When God made my mom, He broke the mold just like when He made me and when He made you.

Before my daughter was born, I had chosen a life verse for her and it is one that Lisa quote about being fearfully and wonderfully made and about God knitting me in my mother's womb. Do you realized that knitting requires not only time He's spending but requires His hands? I've seen people paint with their mouths, play a guitar with feet, but I've never heard or seen anyone knit with anything other than their hands. God's hands formed you. You are wonderfully made because God made you that way. I'm constantly telling my daughter Erin that she is wonderfully made. Her build, her form, her coloring -- these are no accidents. God doesn't want us all to be bean poles. He didn't want us all to be vanilla -- how dull the world would be! And how creative is God that no two of us are exactly alike! I could really go off on a tangent here, but I'll try to refrain.

Do we have choices about how we live with what we were given? You bet. Just like when I asked God to take away my spiritual gift. We have choices, and I don't always make the right one. But thankfully, my God is a generous, merciful and forgiving God waiting on me to return. There are so many choices we can make in this day regarding our bodies, our lives, our beliefs, our actions, our attitudes and our's inevitable, we're going to screw up. So, I've joined Lisa in being a self-proclaiming "mess up" (pg 178), and like Lisa I whole-heartedly embrace His forgiveness.

On page 182 "We need to praise God for the downsides to our personalities and gloriously embrace them because it is not really a self-esteem issue but a spiritual one. For were He to have made us without downsides and weak areas of our personalities, we would have no need for Him in our lives!" Amen, preach on. We definitely need His truth, His love, His acceptance and His forgiveness.

Thank you, Jesus!

Monday, November 10, 2008


"Ladies and Gentleman," he cried as he whipped off the blanket to reveal his treasure from the treasure box -- blocks, Thomas the Train cars, flashcards, and other highly valuable items.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she proclaims "presenting the collection series." She removes her blanket to show two trophies, a jewelry box, and a tooth holder.

With great fanfare they show their most prized possessions. Then they present each treasured item and tell why it is of such great value. Pearce's box is of things that he makes move or he makes them into something altogether different. Erin's treasure are trophies she's won and two little pretty things. She claims that God is number one of importance, but her jewelry box with her dancing ballerina is second.

We got home late today. We took their Christmas pictures at Target today. They did so well. I told them how proud I was of them and their behavior they had chosen. On the way home, I hear Pearce (my strong-willed child with an anger-management problem) say, "We are just little angels." I chuckled. I couldn't help myself. I said, "Yes, you are."

Now Erin is Pearce's assistant helping him to organize his cards. They are cooperating and using their manners and being polite. They are being respectful. This is such a treat for their very tired mom. It gives me hope that some of what we are working for is possibly sticking.

Friday, November 7, 2008

Ch 9 We Are Completely Flawed Yet Completely Forgiven

This is the second time I've attempted to blog about this chapter. I don't know why I'm having such a difficulty putting it into words because I'm not one to be in want for words.

I have no problem accepting the completely flawed portion of this chapter. Having ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder) and acting on impulses growing up, I more than made up my fair share of flaws. Now that I'm a parent, I realized how early the flaws come out. I know there are some parents who live in denial of their little darlings being flawed saying, "Oh, my kids are perfect. They wouldn't do that," or some other ridiculous nonsense, but that isn't me. As a matter of fact if you don't believe God has a sense of humor you should check out my family. Both of my kids are adopted, but Erin is her daddy, and Pearce is the answer to my mother's prayer (PLEASE GOD, GIVE HER AT LEAST ONE JUST LIKE HER!). We brought these wonderful little babies into our family. We love these little babies with all our heart and maybe more so because we fought so hard to have children and to be parents. But as soon as they learned right from wrong, it's just their sinful nature to try out the wrong side of the fence, and some more frequently than others (See my blog on my Dr. Dobson's Strong Willed Child).

I guess it's the forgiveness part that I struggle with at times. I know I have justified so many things in my life -- one more bite (gluttony), this show is fine to watch, I can say this... But in reality, regardless of whether we have justified our sin or not it is the Lord's to redeem us from our sin and sinful nature. There is no justification of our sin except through the cross. It's His choice to do this and His alone, and He does it day in and day out. That grace and mercy is limitless and unfathomable to me. I love my children dearly, but there are times when they push me to my limits, and I wonder why my heavenly Father hasn't just yanked a knot in my neck for my sins and pushing Him. Why doesn't He just take me home? It's not that I'm a murderer or adulteress or thief, etc. But in the eyes of God, there are no shades of gray for sin. One is just as bad as the next because regardless of what the sin is it still caused the death of His son. What "amazing love, how can it be? That you my King would die for me. Amazing love, I know it's true, and it's my joy to honor You. In all I do, I honor You."

My Lord and Savior, I try to split hairs and justify my behaviors, attitude and actions much like my children do, but I know my sin breaks your heart, and I am truly sorry for my sins. I'm sorry for the grief I've caused you. I'm sorry for my lack of faith at time. I'm sorry for my ingratitude. I apologize for taking things into my own hands and not trusting you. God, I'm sorry for putting on my different faces and not being real so others can see you in me. Please forgive me. Thank you for the cross. Thank you for you love. Thank you for life eternal. Thank you for the blood. Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Dr. Dobson's child

If you've ever wondered if God has a sense of humor or not, you only have to visit my home and my family. Because to genetically not be my children, I might as well have shot them out of the hatch myself. I believe our daughter is about to be diagnosed as having ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), and I was diagnosed in seventh grade as having ADHD (a derivative of ADD, but just add a good helping of hyperactivity to bless you). My son is the answer to my mother's prayer. You know the one. "God, please give her at least one child like her." That prayer is often said in the thralls of exacerbation and exhaustion. Apparently, my mom prayed it frequently because God has given me Dr. Dobson's strong-willed child. Second to my mom's Bible was her book by Dr. Dobson. Both were highlighted and dogeared. I now have my own copy of that book and have read it twice. I'm about to start high-lighting and dog-earring the pages.

I had to go to the preschool today. It was the second day this week I had gotten "THE" call, and I told Pearce he would see my face if I got that second call. I couldn't let him down. When I arrived at daycare, he had, had plenty of time to think about my appearing. He is so relentless, persistent and stubborn, and I know that one day God will use them to His glory, but for right now, dear Jesus, help me! I have tried rewards, punishment, discipline, time-outs (where he thinks of more he can do), and spankings. When his anger gets the best of him and he loses control, we put him in what we call "the hold." When I was in junior high and high school, I worked with a little girl who had cerebral palsy, and in order for her to be down on the floor with the other children, I would have to sit like an Indian and put her feet between my legs. This stabilized her legs so they wouldn't flop around. Then I crossed her arms in front of her and held them close to her body until it was time for us to move them (hit a ball, pick up an object, etc.). I found this hold is very effective with Pearce, and it allows him to get his anger out and gets his fight out. He'll try to buck and fight and that's when I have to hold tighter. He knows he controls how loose or how tight everything is. When he regains control of himself the hold on him is looser, but by then he's exhausted (and so am I).

I know this is but for a season in my life. Before I know it he will be up and gone. My prayer for Pearce is that he learns to have a teachable and moldable spirit, that his anger works against him and will learn to use his words and not his actions when he is angry, that God will give us the wisdom we need to raise a godly man who is destined to be a leader, and that Pearce will choose God's way, always doing his best.

UGGGHHH!!!! Thank God, He made him so darn cute. Thank you, Lord, we can afford to send our children to a Christian school. Thank you, God, for wonderfully making Pearce.

I'm taking Erin to see her psych nurse today. We saw her counselor last week and will see him again tomorrow. I'm praying for an accurate diagnosis. Up until now, we have been having to work on symptoms because Erin hadn't matured to an age for us to really see and understand what is going on with her, and while we still don't know or understand it all, I do believe we are closer. I'm praying the proper diagnosis will lead us to the correct medication and compensatory skills, so Erin will be able to function and succeed. She has such a sweet heart and loves to tell others about Jesus. I know He has a special purpose for her.

My prayer for Erin is she will know exactly how wonderful she is and that she is wonderful because God made her so, that she will see her value is from God, that she will accept His love as it is -- pure and without condition, that she will learn to be a truthful and honest young lady, and that she will try to do her best in all things and giving God the glory.

Thank you, God, for a beautiful day -- light breeze, golden leaves floating to the ground, branches swaying, squirrels scampering, birds singing. This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice in it.

Monday, November 3, 2008

First Day Back and It's Wonderful

This is my first day back to work after being off for 6 weeks. I have to admit I rather enjoyed being off the last few weeks and could get spoiled to that way of living (mind you I'd still want my income). And while I wasn't dreading coming back to work, I wasn't extremely over-joyed either.

I investigate insurance fraud, questionable insurance claims of all varieties arsons, bodily injury claims, staged accidents, medical provider fraud, etc. If you were to meet me in person and get to know me without knowing what I do for a living, you would laugh because I don't "appear" to be the sort to do this type of work, but I am a natural at it and have a blast doing it. I am blessed because I absolutely love what I do and the people I work with and the results I get. This morning, my FBI agent told the chiropractor and his wife who I have investigated for years was indicted at the end of October for 73 counts in the federal system. Most of those indictments are from investigations done by me and my company. Can we say WOOOHOOO!!!!! What a buzz! What a high! I love it when we can get the bad guy.

Now, I found out that the state police are going to be handing one of my investigations of another medical provider over to that same FBI agent. We'll see how it goes. In order for me to get the chiro indicted I had to light a fire under some behinds before it got to this point. I am tenacious if nothing else. Thankfully, my energy has held out for this long. We'll see how hard I crater at the end of the day.

This is a day in my life at work. I'm about to head to an impromptu meeting with the FBI and LSP to discuss a medical provider who needs to be indicted and put in jail. I feel like I should be jumping for joy.

It's days like this that make me question my future. I know I'm to lead women's ministry at my church, and I've known it for some time. I know there will be trials and difficulties with that ministry getting started, and here I am enjoying a career I excel in. I must be nuts! Down right crazy! But it is better to be in the service of the Lord than out of His will, and He will change my heart, excitement and energy to that course when the time comes.

Now, after leaving a victorious day at work, I have picked up my kids. We had to stop by Brookshires which is where there is normally a fight as to who will drive the little buggy to collect the small number of items needed, but not today. Erin offers to carry the list so Pearce can drive the buggy. Pearce and Erin are so incredibly polite to one another, using 'please' and 'thank you.' They are complementing one another and saying 'good job.' HAVE I ENTERED THE TWILIGHT ZONE? This continues all night. A pleasant and even enjoyable meal. They played well with one another laughing and everything. IS THERE A FULL MOON OUT TONIGHT? At supper tonight, I told them how much I appreciated their behavior and their good choices today and how proud I was of them.

NOW...what will things be like once Patrick makes it home? HMMMM.

Thank you, Lord, for a glorious day!