tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40272969698436837652024-02-19T06:54:57.015-08:00Momma HAD Cancer.....
My Journey from Illness to Grace!
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.comBlogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-81058511241221378372017-07-15T06:06:00.002-07:002017-07-15T06:32:13.806-07:00Teachable Moments<p>Up early on this Saturday spending time in the Word and reflecting on the week. Colossians 4:5 tells us to "Be wise in the way that we act toward others, and make the most of every opportunity."
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<p>The words jumped off of the page and straight into my heart and pretty much "slapped me on the hand" as I was praying over certain situations going on with me. Some days I really fall short of His glory and in ways I can witness His grace and understanding. As a mom of 6, I get my fair share "teachable moments" that while frustrating,are not an opportunity for me to become....well? Mean. </p>
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<p>I remember having a conversation with a dear family friend who is a retired school counselor.....and I was "venting/seeking advice" about a one of my precious "littles" who was less than enthusiastic about his grades.....and he said something that struck home. </p>
<p>"What is more important in the long run....his algebra grade? Or your relationship with your son?" </p>
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<p>Those words rang true. I've been dubbed a helicopter mom before. Recently, at work, I was called a "helicopter trainer." While it was meant in fun....it hit home. I'm a nagger. I nag and nag and nag until I get something done my way. In the end, the results are pretty much the same, except the "nagee" hates my guts. At the end of the day, a clean room...a high B instead of a low C....really isn't what matters. It's my relationship with those I love....that will help them succeed. All everyone really needs is someone in their corner...rooting for them. </p>
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<p>The same goes in the workplace. At church. On our commute. As Pastor Rick always says....Everywhere we go, are our words...true? Kind? AND necessary?? Focus on the "AND". All three. True. Kind. Necessary. </p>
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<p>How many times do we get our point across....only to keep on and on and on digging that point in, until we have beat that horse to death??</p>
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<p>Guilty. </p>
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<p>Today, I'm trying to figure out a way to do better. </p>
<p><br></p>
<p>This week I've seen God's work everywhere. The way He can mend physically and emotionally. </p>
<p>I've seen His healing in my Uncle. </p>
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<p>I've seen His love as my Aunt (his wife of 50 years) never left his side for even a minute. </p>
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<p>I've seen a child return from church camp with a hug (the kind that hung on for a minute) and a soft look that told me he felt the Lord move and came home refueled. Oh, how I remember those "mountaintop experiences"....</p>
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<p>I've seen His continued healing for my boss/dear friend, who is a few months post-liver transplant. I never doubted she would be fine, because even without her knowing, she is a walking inspiration of an "on fire for Him" child of God, who touches all who know her. A warrior for His goodness and a true example of the kind of daughter of a King I want to be!</p>
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<p>I have laughed. And laughed. I adore those in my life who can make me laugh til I cry....til I almost tinkle in my undies. </p>
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<p>I have been honored to pray for my friends, as they have suffered loss....of loved ones. Of employment. Of relationships. To be a prayer warrior that has been entrusted with going to Him with their needs. I've learned, "praying for you" shouldn't be a "pleasantry"....it should be..."I'm falling in my knees calling out your name before Him!" </p>
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<p>I'm praying this weekend, as I refuel and recharge, that I can go back to the basics and just practice grace. The same grace that has always been given to an undeserving me. </p>
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<p>Practice grace with my children. </p>
<p>With my family. With my friends. In my workplace. And with all I meet. </p>
<p>Momma used to say, "You may be the only Jesus some ever see." </p>
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<p>Ouch. </p>
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<p>I've fallen a little short this week. </p>
<p><br></p>
<p>Despite, all of my many blessings...fallen way short. </p>
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<p>Back to Colossians 4:5. </p>
<p>Opportunities. Teachable moments. I hear ya, God. I pledge to do better. </p>
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<p>Let's exchange prayers, friends. Who's in?</p>
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<p>In Him,</p>
<p>Terri</p>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-54804613929266415552017-04-23T06:14:00.001-07:002017-04-23T06:14:17.445-07:00Five years....I did it!!!Five years ago, today my life was forever changed. Triple Negative Breast Cancer became words that described me. ME. <p><br></p><p>If you have followed my journey, which began on this day, five years ago.....it is no secret to you what a milestone this is for me. I can say.... with authority....with conviction....and certainty... that I kicked cancer's booty!! I can "laugh without fear" of my future. </p><p><br></p><p>Since that time, I've been able to realize and recognize all of His miracles around me...both large and small. How He sets things in motion for you? Or completely puts a halt to something that is not HIS plan. Or HIS timing. I see now how He works in my life. And in the lives of those around me. Oh, what a beautiful life we lead!!!!</p><p><br></p><p>Happiness is everywhere. It is in Him, and what you make of the life He has given you. It is not found in others. It is found in Him....and who HE places in your path. I've learned to "be still". </p><p><br></p><p>Upon reflection, I feel like I am a completely different person now than I was then. So much so that I wanted turn back time to write a letter to myself to prepare me for April 23, 2012.</p><p><br></p><p>April 22, 2012</p><p><br></p><p>Dear Terri,</p><p><br></p><p>Tomorrow you will be diagnosed with breast cancer. You will head into your first physical in years because....YAY! you finally have health insurance. After an exam, you are gonna turn around twice and you'll be wiping off your deodorant for a mammo. Dr. H will then say the dreaded words, "I've got nothin good to tell ya....You have breast cancer." You then will hear little else and you’ll nod along because, well, they don’t think you know a darn thing about cancer.</p><p><br></p><p>Oh, sweet naive Terri, you just have no idea what the next year will have in store for you. There will be more physical pain involved than you’ve ever had to deal with in your life, and you will be stripped down emotionally to a depth that you’ve never experienced before and would never want to experience again. You will feel vulnerable, and attacked, and carry a sadness that you’ve never known before. You will lay awake at night and tears will stream uncontrollably down your face as you plead with God to let you stay with your babies for as long as possible. You will progress through surgeries, biopsies, tests, scans and chemo and it will feel like getting pushed off a cliff.</p><p><br></p><p>You are going to feel that everything beautiful about you is stripped within a matter of days. You will have a bald head and a 12-year old chest....and the worst part? You won't care. You will take it personally, anytime you hear of someone around you with a new diagnosis. You will wanna kick cancer right in the teeth. Because, let me tell ya....it suuuuucccckssss.</p><p><br></p><p>After treatments are over, and the hair grows back, and you gain tons of weight (Yes....I realize you just lost 40 lbs....so enjoy it while it lasts. You will be the only person on the planet to blow up from chemo!!) and time passes....people will forget. You will suffer loneliness and fear and sadness. You will find yourself living for each doctor appointment, because after all....you pay him to talk about cancer. You are naive, and stupid, and you just don’t get it. Some days will seem like just a whirlwind and you’re doing your best to keep up. Some days will go so slowly and you will feel so isolated and alone, no matter who may be in the room with you. You will, with every passing holiday and birthday, sit and wonder if you will be around to see the next one. You will even wonder why YOU are chosen to survive, yet others succumbed to the illness. You’ll be so tired and in pain some days that you don’t even want to get out of bed.</p><p><br></p><p>But you do.</p><p><br></p><p>Oh..yes, dear one, you do. </p><p><br></p><p>You will find that this gut-wrenching experience will hold more blessings than you ever thought possible. You will, for the first time in your life, have to fully rely on God for everything. And He will be faithful. Every time. You will feel more loved and supported by your friends and family and church and neighbors and even some people that you don’t know, but who are burdened for you and care about you. You will want for nothing and in allowing yourself to be stripped to the bone emotionally, you will experience God’s presence so closely that you will spend your days striving for more and more of Him. Many things will begin to make sense, and many pieces of the puzzle will come together, and you will grow in your faith more than you ever imagined possible.</p><p><br></p><p>You will feel broken and whole. You will feel uneasy and fulfilled. You will learn to break the cycle of trying to control your own faith and God will break through and reveal things to you that you don’t feel you deserve to know. You’ll realize that you have no strength to fight this on your own, but that God himself will sustain you each and every day and that He will nudge His people to take care of you on so many levels. Your relationships will be strengthened beyond what you thought possible and you’ll realize that it isn’t just your fight, it’s everyone who loves you’s fight too. You will make so many new friends and you will reconnect with old friends, it’s really pretty awesome.</p><p><br></p><p>You will begin to write. And write. And write. This is where your therapy will lie. In your words. Careful, though. Some will call you inspirational. Others may use it against you. Don't let Satan in!!!! You will fall on your face before God. And beg Him in. And He answers. And carries you. And holds you close.</p><p><br></p><p>Great things will happen! Your kiddos will prove that they can face adversity and fears that most kids their age will never have to.....and with grace. Sam will thrive during his last years of high school, his teams will succeed and he will just fall in love with LIFE! Your Sydney Clare will continue being a light and do what she loves....dance. Both will be a beacon for Christ and make you so incredibly proud. You will get to witness their dreams coming true....one by one by one. Girl, they are gonna teach you SOOOO much! You will realize that living with cancer and with the fear of recurrence is still living. And for that you should be grateful.</p><p><br></p><p>You will be given four....yes FOUR...new sons, who will fill your home and your heart that will challenge you, laugh with you, love you, and NEED you. You will get to face motherhood head on....and you will need His guidance and faith and Grace as you succeed some days, yet fall short on others. </p><p><br></p><p>You will find your purpose in this. You will be pushed and you will be reluctant sometimes, but God will guide you. You will experience miracles. Yes, you will! Your entire being will change. Things that used to matter, won't. Grace will overwhelm you! And you will learn that the practice of it will save you. You will learn to forgive. Others. But most of all, you will learn to forgive yourself.</p><p><br></p><p>Put up your dukes....and fight like a girl! Hang tight to your Lord, because one day...you will sit in a church pew and hear your brother say the words..."See Terri? You didn't have to be scared of cancer....God had it all along."</p><p><br></p><p>You can do this. You’ve got this. Saddle up for the ride and kick some cancer booty! <3</p><p><br></p><p>Sincerely,</p><p><br></p><p>Future "5th year SURVIVOR" Terri</p><p><br></p><p><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-z-04iXDlx9M/WPyoh_6CX7I/AAAAAAAAG1g/1HACXVjHMcMp8lyhWmaLe1tl74rnCBD3QCHM/%255BUNSET%255D" alt=""><br></p>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-24802639620571861432017-04-19T17:20:00.003-07:002017-04-19T17:27:36.685-07:00Prom Prayer (Take 2)<p>I'm just not cut out for this, y'all. This mother of teens thing. Okay....I'm fibbing. Actually, I love it. I thrive on it. I LIVE it. But, someone failed to tell me how my heart would RIPPED from my body at the thought of them growing up and leaving. My little self-proclaimed "momma's boy"...who followed me around in diapers, wet the bed until he was 7, who used to tell me he wanted to marry me when he grew up.....is off at college. In his 2nd year. Thinking of spending the summer elsewhere to work. #bestillmyheart </p>
<p>My baby girl. My best friend. My buddy for her ENTIRE life. My human "day planner"...keeps me in line ....is in her last 2 weeks of high school......will graduate in a month......and leave for college in about 4 months. At a mere 18 years old....she know EXACTLY what God has led her to do with her life and has her future mapped out to achieve it. So proud of her I could almost burst. I love her guts!!!</p>
<p>And David, Jr....the fact that I'm honored to step in and get the last few years of his life isn't lost on me. He is a hard worker and has risen above so much in his short little life. I'm quite certain I've learned more from him than he could ever learn from me. He, too, is counting down the days left of school....(loudly to me daily!) and has his college future underway. God has blessed me by letting me be a part of his present. And his future. </p>
<p>THREE in college. </p>
<p>Wait, what???? Just stop already. I think I might just die. Like, right here.<br></p>
<p>I can't even remind myself that Tyler graduates next year....and then that will make FOUR? Ummmm..not touching that one just yet. </p>
<p>Scholarship applications, essays, graduation announcements, cap & gowns, Senior games......and this weekend: Prom. <br></p>
<p>For her:</p>
<p>The dress. Oh the perfect dress...read: dress, alterations, the right underwear, shoes, earrings, bracelet. </p>
<p>The shoes. </p>
<p>The makeup. (6:30 AM appointment...yes, you read that right...we would go even earlier for her magic!)</p>
<p>The hair.</p>
<p>The spray tan. </p>
<p>The mani and the pedi.</p>
<p>The bootinere.</p>
<p>The tickets. </p>
<p>The dinner.</p>
<p>Her sweet little date. </p>
<p>For him:</p>
<p>The tux.</p>
<p>The right color tie...</p>
<p>The haircut. </p>
<p>The shoes. </p>
<p>The corsage. </p>
<p>The tickets. </p>
<p>The dinner.</p>
<p>And his sweet little date. </p>
<p>When to take the pictures. Where to take the pictures. And what if it rains???</p>
<p>Even so...can't wait to get behind that camera on Saturday night! :)</p>
<p>What I really want to do is give them an 11:00 curfew and not let them out of my sight. I would SO drive them to and from! God, please, please watch over these babies. Walk beside each and every one of them. While I want to be excited for them to make these memories and celebrate their graduation, I'm terrified as only a mother can be....in the very depths of my soul and in the pit of my stomach. I trust my kiddos. With every ounce of my being. I do. But that doesn't mean I don't want to protect them and their future. And that of their friends.</p>
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<p>I heard the other day an analogy that fits my fears as a mother. "A ship is always safe in the harbor. But that is not what the ship was built for.....to stay in the harbor." How true. I've done my job. In fact, I want to be JUST like my children, when I grow up. :) It is time to let them sail.....To let them SOAR! </p>
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<p>Why does it hurt so much? I may just follow them to Conway. Yes, that is what I'll do. I can just tell myself that to make me feel better for today....shhhhhh, its our secret.</p>
<p>But today, as my kiddos have so much on their plate in the next couple of days.....Pray with me the following:</p>
<p><b>The Lord's PROM Prayer</b></p>
<p><i><b>Our Father Who art in heaven, hallowed be Your name....</b></i></p>
<p>God, You are holy in all that You do and in all that You are. Help us to see and live in light of Your holiness. I pray for the many students who will be celebrating with their friends at prom this weekend. I pray that as they enjoy the gracious gifts of friendship, laughter, beauty, and dance that they would do so with a renewed understanding of Your holiness. Help them to see that You have called them to be holy as You are holy. Give them the grace, boldness, wisdom, and conviction to honor You in all that they do while at prom.</p>
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<p><b><i>Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven... </i></b></p>
<p>Father, Your will for our lives and for all things is not just for Your glory but for our good. May You show these students that life lived within Your design is not just what is best for us, it is what is most joyful. May their wills be conformed to Yours as they make decisions about who they ask, what they wear, what they say, how they dance, and where they go afterwards.</p>
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<p><b><i>Give us this day our daily bread...</i></b></p>
<p>You are a good and gracious Father and You love providing your children with good gifts. Help them to see the goodness of prom and how it truly can be a gracious gift from You. May they receive and enjoy this gift in a way that honors the giver.</p>
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<p><b><i>And forgive us our trespasses....as we forgive those who trespass against us...</i></b></p>
<p>Lord, I know these young men and women aren't perfect. Help them to trust and treasure the truth that while their sin may reach far, Your grace reaches further. May they see that there is nothing they could do at prom that would disqualify them from being called Your beloved child. Help them to live freely and faithfully in light of Your limitless grace and forgiveness.</p>
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<p><b><i>And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...</i></b></p>
<p>Father, You are well aware of the many temptations that arise during these festivities. I ask that You would protect these children from the temptations they face. Temptations of vanity, greed, jealousy, lust, drunkenness, and most of all, disregard for You. Keep them safe and deliver them from evil by giving them hearts that love You fully, minds that think of you deeply, and lives that follow You faithfully. </p>
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<p><b><i>For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever and ever...</i></b></p>
<p>Lord, may You show them that while You are the God of the universe You are still the God of their prom. May they seek to honor, glorify, and worship you during this time. I pray this in the name of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen! - </p>
<p>For my David and my Sydney Clare.....I love you. Enjoy every second!! </p>
<p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVP0XYg21NGVd18qFt7yTKPrnReKgxLavv9Eyn6u95wfadp4SeovAYaHU6fx-ZVvOxyIfKF9SMz21HIwt0vKC5woQgqasyl5ljfGeszvWWu3_-Kebvj104ufcY-YMEor02ZyjKGA6rH8O/" alt=""><br></p>
<p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq31RytIXRTyy_7K7fhyk2JEkVtLQZM4b3Evv4BjNHYJft4nqJHHgI0CRlle9l3H1hvSSi_8WZpyzYTm8th-z6NXI3fJBqEbcLfp5B2VU9cZqrWAzbRDk7M8mYeOcw-x1xmgvtbOVkT0ZV/" alt=""><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGSUCTkwwk3GsQA9tArFb-NYv9tVLEbGZYTJ8nK7kT1W_XehAwUUOd7m_vunm3-m1VXTBoMElr91c7WCu4JI26tDf-Cr8ntg3iUmFlWjri5sTGPfV33oQsKE-8QisWpzVc26oQMqUlwU4/" alt="">Sail, Soar, SHINE! <3</p>
<p>In Him,</p>
<p>Mom</p>
<p><br></p>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-175597779511888632016-06-09T16:54:00.001-07:002016-06-09T18:33:11.745-07:00Haiti LoveHi Friends.<div><br></div><div>Couldn't wait to get home. To write. To Pray. To process what I've learned about Haiti....from just a couple of pictures and a few texts. Like 5 to be exact. So much so that I drove home through a sea of tears. </div><div><br></div><div>I've learned what a privileged society we have in which to live. Today, I stayed at work during my lunch hour, which I often do....and complained to myself that I was tired of the turkey sandwich I was eating....again for the 4th day in a row. You see, at the beginning of the week, I ran to the store and bought the lunch meat, a loaf of bread, some cheese, and some chips....oh yea....and diet cokes to last for the week. Partly, so I wouldn't "have to get out" during lunch....and partly so I could save that "fast food money" for my upcoming family vacation next month.</div><div><br></div><div>As I was munching on said sandwich....and visiting with a few co-workers who where gathered around the table....I listened as a couple came in from outside talking about how hot it was. And granted, it is....hot outside. June in Arkansas hot. Probably 90ish? Not sure. But yes....when it takes the AC in your car about 10 miles to cool off....it's hot. </div><div><br></div><div>After lunch, I walked back to my office....where I turned on my little fan to blow right in my face....because those "cold natured" in the office had turned it up to .....gasp! 75. "Hot Flash Terri"....was hot.</div><div><br></div><div>This has been the scenario for every day this week. </div><div><br></div><div>My Sam, flew out yesterday with an organization called "One Loud Voice"....to volunteer for the "Mission of Hope" project. Google these organizations....like right now. And read about them. Follow them on insta. And pray for their work. Please. </div><div><br></div><div>As for Sam, I've been in prayer for him and his team for quite some time. We have all the proper preventative medications, all the bug sprays, sunscreens, etc. And even a few "Luxuries" in his bag to donate once he gets there.....you know...peanut butter, jelly, Cheerios, paper towels, and a couple of cans of spaghetti sauce. Luxuries. Let that sink in for a second. </div><div><br></div><div>And I was griping about a turkey sandwich. </div><div><br></div><div>Obviously, cell phone usage and wifi isn't much of an option in a third world country, so I've not gotten to speak to Sam since he boarded the plane in Atlanta, yesterday. However, the young man rooming with him at the MOH compound, is able to text his mom. What an angel she is to share his words with a group of us Mommas here at home.</div><div><br></div><div>First text, late last night....</div><div><i>"I am in my room. No windows. It's 102 😂😂. About to get a shower then crash. Long day tomorrow! The city was like something I've never seen, it's awful. There isn't a building standing. The compound is nice. It is gated. Electricity through the night! And running cold water! We have guards too so safe!"</i></div><div><br></div><div>My heart sank for my child and his new friend...and their mission team.... thinking of all they are enduring to spread the love of Christ. He felt the need to share that he felt safe. Most 19-20 year old boys aren't worried about safety. AC maybe? But, safety. For some reason, that stuck with me.</div><div><br></div><div><i>"Yeah sam is sleeping Above me he's good"</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>Assuming, he was asked about my Sam. Was nice to know he was good. So I'm picturing bunk beds in a hot, windowless room. In the "nice compound". Here in America...."Nice" is usually a Hilton, Embassy Suites....somewhere with room service, a fluffy bed, and a complimentary breakfast. :)</div><div><br></div><div>This morning:</div><div><i>"I'm not sure the time, they don't know! But me and Sam are sitting in the roof! We have a long day!</i></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuh0IleeG3qmJmA50wvjwTjkJGU2lWb_K2kFrvJ03gVXVQeN0vAXXJF2G3CFT1DyuNQIAlKjyAO4lfolCPmC1JO1iYzvBsb12SbiQavRc57n6wkljtDbIXbV4gi7LqOnYsmOR_DElRdDZ/s640/blogger-image--1849292886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPuh0IleeG3qmJmA50wvjwTjkJGU2lWb_K2kFrvJ03gVXVQeN0vAXXJF2G3CFT1DyuNQIAlKjyAO4lfolCPmC1JO1iYzvBsb12SbiQavRc57n6wkljtDbIXbV4gi7LqOnYsmOR_DElRdDZ/s640/blogger-image--1849292886.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>We got to see their view!! From their roof of the compound. While pretty, I couldn't help but think it appeared a bit desolate. </div><div><br></div><div>He went on to explain to us that parts of the island recognize daylight savings time, and other parts do not. So nobody really has any idea what time it is. Haha</div><div><br></div><div>He also said that one of the adults on the trip is really struggling. When asked exactly what she was struggling with....</div><div>The heat.</div><div><br></div><div>"<i>Yes it's so so so hot nothing like you've ever felt'</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>Please, please. Stop and pray for her. That she can push through.</div><div><br></div><div>We got more pictures! (I'll bet this precious angel doesn't realize how we are hanging on his EVERY word! :))</div><div><i><br></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzyXCXsd-PwnYsjGeenfAuUTYMoym0AA8QBUlM8SZmNShIoAdrMish9tTtytovPhvQVkucl1zqUKcEhrcNz9SCg2RrTwCMcGKVTedsLZAhywYQSbXU0zom7mr43SV-djPYNYjaPv5ZR23/s640/blogger-image--1886557873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzyXCXsd-PwnYsjGeenfAuUTYMoym0AA8QBUlM8SZmNShIoAdrMish9tTtytovPhvQVkucl1zqUKcEhrcNz9SCg2RrTwCMcGKVTedsLZAhywYQSbXU0zom7mr43SV-djPYNYjaPv5ZR23/s640/blogger-image--1886557873.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>We are assuming that sweet Abbey was given a new hair do by her new friends. Precious.</div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bEUdE0cMNm1RtJIQzf48-qB09k0QSCKqmBb_pihd32B0daY1JTqNWMZYXKrzmw6pPS_c3Zkv9A8PDFlcKhKjbDhyvIrCXvilqmMNM7bJ4CPBxhL3mj7y65bfGDA7wZiZjem-9Kj2fTVZ/s640/blogger-image-322998803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bEUdE0cMNm1RtJIQzf48-qB09k0QSCKqmBb_pihd32B0daY1JTqNWMZYXKrzmw6pPS_c3Zkv9A8PDFlcKhKjbDhyvIrCXvilqmMNM7bJ4CPBxhL3mj7y65bfGDA7wZiZjem-9Kj2fTVZ/s640/blogger-image-322998803.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>My Sam is on the right. I have stared at this picture more often than I'd like to admit. Oh, my heart strings are tugged.</div><div><br></div><div>This afternoon...they traveled further.</div><div><br></div><div><i>"Village we are in now most don't even own pants or underwear! Terribly sad."</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>Tears sprung to my eyes when reading this. At the exact same moment, I received a phone call that one of the million items needed to dress my daughter for her final year of dance team, was ready for pickup at the Sports Shop. And then my daughter texted to ask me idea for a gift for her "little sister" for dance camp this week. Her words..."Help me! I don't want to get crappy gifts." Now don't misunderstand....Sydney's heart is in a good...even sweet....place. But I just couldn't help noticing the huge.....read....GINORMOUS ....difference in dilemmas, decisions, problems.</div><div><br></div><div>It was a pattern all day today. I get home and the kids are "starving"....one is exhausted from basketball camp.....one is so hot because he walked "all the way down the street from a friend's house" and can he go swimming? </div><div><br></div><div>Again...please don't misunderstand. All of them are super kids. And I am so grateful for the blessings they have and the opportunities we are provided daily. But....my heart is just aching. Simply aching. For the entitlement that we practice....and the amount we take for granted...each and every day.</div><div><br></div><div>Just before I left the office...</div><div><i>"Back at the compound! After a freezing shower I'm still sweating. I don't know how these people live."</i></div><div><br></div><div>Be still my heart. No words.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZtwvDfen__7ww2lXvmu0zdmMo1t2wSA3b26sH9yPdbBfnH6Od3iwz-GNVx7jZ8l6mEjom3w_gh0lJvdFyFWx3CcjiDuu5-Uu3zo3hVY-oxSOVBrBeaGWhFMbgS-gn7NjETI6K6U1Livc/s640/blogger-image--1577702116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZtwvDfen__7ww2lXvmu0zdmMo1t2wSA3b26sH9yPdbBfnH6Od3iwz-GNVx7jZ8l6mEjom3w_gh0lJvdFyFWx3CcjiDuu5-Uu3zo3hVY-oxSOVBrBeaGWhFMbgS-gn7NjETI6K6U1Livc/s640/blogger-image--1577702116.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Another picture! Our Kaylee....Sam's sweet girlfriend....and no doubt a child that is already nestled deep in her heart.</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>And just moments ago...</div><div><i>"Tomorrow we get to paint a house of missionaries here on campus and there's air conditioning!!</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div>While I'm quite certain this won't be central air....with a thermostat at their fingertips....the treat tomorrow....is maybe a little AC. </div><div><br></div><div>Please please pray for these kids. For the adults that are leading them. Pray for those they are there to befriend, share Christ's love, and help if only for a moment. Pray that their hearts are prepared to receive all that they are bringing before them. </div><div><br></div><div>Pray for these organizations. And those who have dedicated their lives to better this country. My dear friend, and fellow mom said it best...."You are either called to go or called to send." How true. While only few are over there....So many answered the "call to send" with prayerful and financial support. I keep thinking that I want to go. I want to take my family there. To experience Sam's journey this week. Although....I just don't know if I can...That's a prayer for many days ahead.</div><div><br></div><div>I replied to my friend last night...."I think our kids will be forever changed."</div><div><br></div><div>I know I am. In just a few hours....a couple of pics....and half a dozen texts. </div><div><br></div><div>Haiti. We love you. Already in our hearts.</div><div><br></div><div>And to you Sam Baker. I've never, EVER, been more proud to be your mom.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVXTyHmmvNwHtTAlAja7OpMfviYmk7qR3SDovznmcfTvYpfDD_xvRihOAemG3-gj7Zi_sRmMvVsPXUUytY4zb0q9jzOp-VvXY7a8PAcGLLm6xvohwXX5L_bMU5EeXE-wynFAYQYrf-vaA/s640/blogger-image--1907199475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVXTyHmmvNwHtTAlAja7OpMfviYmk7qR3SDovznmcfTvYpfDD_xvRihOAemG3-gj7Zi_sRmMvVsPXUUytY4zb0q9jzOp-VvXY7a8PAcGLLm6xvohwXX5L_bMU5EeXE-wynFAYQYrf-vaA/s640/blogger-image--1907199475.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give to you." John 15:16</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In Him,</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Terri</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-56576436583233233382016-05-30T15:09:00.001-07:002016-05-30T15:52:02.831-07:00Parent Dares<div>Happy Memorial Day, y'all. </div><div><br></div><div>The silence is deafening. After getting the awful tummy stuff outta here, all of my "littles" have been elsewhere occupied for the day and I've spent the majority of the last three days relaxing, recuperating, and refueling. Much needed, I tell ya. </div><div><br></div><div>David and I have only had his oldest at home, hobbling around after knee surgery. We have eaten a lot of junk and spent the day laughing and enjoying one another.</div><div><br></div><div>I've spent the last hour with my "to do" list that is longer than my arm to prepare all these children for their upcoming activities. One headed to Haiti....one headed to Harding ......one starting physical therapy.....one headed to Hattiesburg.....one in the midst of Football and all THAT entails....and another just home enjoying his summer. </div><div><br></div><div>Recently, I sat in the parking lot to pick up #5 from basketball (age14), I'm reminded that I'm an outsider. You see? For years, my best friends were those parents of the #1's friends and teammates. When you travel three weekends a month, they become your family. All through school, when I would need help with carpools or really ANYTHING....I knew one of about 8 moms that I could call and before I could even "ask" the answer was "yes". And vice versa. To this day....I could probably call for anything and get that same answer. Our friendships ran much deeper than baseball. </div><div><br></div><div>But as I was saying, I knew no one. Already, at a recent parent meeting, the other moms were name-dropping, and politic-ing, and pairing up into their obvious connections and I sat there feeling very old. And alone. I wanted to stand up and tell them so much of what I learned over the years. That the coaches don't really care who you are or where they get their private lessons from.....it will all be decided on the court. I chuckled to myself and AT myself for being stuck back in the land of "8th grade basketball". </div><div><br></div><div>What really bothered me, though, is the alone feeling came more from not having another parent to lean on with my new son. To help with carpools, and lunches, and Sonic runs. I began questioning my ability to do it all. It's tough, y'all. </div><div><br></div><div>All of my best friends are entering the empty nest time of life. While I, am starting over. Am older. And tired-er, and yes. Just a little bit wiser. Almost a pro. Or should be anyway. Ha </div><div><br></div><div>So much to do while nurturing a new job. 30 minutes from home. A job that I love. That has brought with it challenge, and value, and enables me to hopfully make a difference. Also, it has brought with it precious new friends. Friends I want to help, and be teammates with, and not let down. </div><div><br></div><div>Overwhelmed doesn't even begin to describe how I feel some days. To be needed by so many. For SO MANY, need my 100%. Very few in my world understand. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm praying for balance. To be able to give ALL of me to no less than 10 people on any given day. 7 of which live under my roof. Each and every one expect and deserve all of me. And I've pledged to do just that. </div><div><br></div><div>I've began reading and putting into practice "The Love Dare For Parents". Cheesy, maybe. But hey....I'm not to proud to ask for help. And from Him. </div><div><br></div><div>With 6 kids...it's gonna take a bit more than 40 days. I'm going at my own pace with it. It's taken me back to my favorite chapter of the Bible...1 Corinthians 13. Ya know....Love is Patient. Love is kind. </div><div>We all know it. We all love it. But...do we all live it?</div><div><br></div><div>It's got me praying those "scary prayers" that I've talked about before. The ones where you better be ready to hear Him....listen to Him.... And be obedient to Him. </div><div><br></div><div>In my parental "Love Dare" journey, I am met with daily challenges, and charged with writing about the effects of each one. Example: "Tell each of your children that you love them." Like....duh. We all say that each day. But no....Like, take the child's face in your hands.....and look them in the eye....and let them know you REALLY love them. And hug them. And hang on for a minute. So I did just that! </div><div><br></div><div>Other days....I was charged with doing an unexpected act of kindness...."Love is kind"....get the idea? That day, I handwrote a little note to each kiddo, placed a $5 gift card to Sonic in it....so they could enjoy a happy hour or two on ole mom. I placed it under their placemat at dinner time. For ONCE, we had all the kiddos at home at once. They loved finding their "little act of kindness" for the day. It ended with the whole family playing wiffle ball in the front yard. It was a perfect summer evening.</div><div><br></div><div>Another place my journey has taken me is quite shameful. The "Love is Patient" day had me crawling under the table hiding my face like sometimes Pastor Rick's sermons do. It challenges us to see that serving our children is an honor and a privilege! For you see? The "to do" list I mentioned earlier in this post is pretty typical. No, they don't travel to other states and other countries every day....but the craziness of their lives....when only two are driving....gets tricky. </div><div><br></div><div>I find myself complaining while in service to the ones I love the most. When in reality, I should be honored to invest my love and compassion into their futures....just as I've done for years. Being tired at the end of the day...means I've done a job well. Means I've come home to those who need me....and helped to meet their needs. Being overwhelmed....means I have active and healthy children who are thriving in their activities. It means I am loving. And being loved.</div><div><br></div><div>The more "patience" I practice today....will mean more victories to celebrate tomorrow. Patience helps us to minimize those things which are negative. And Kindness helps us to be a blessing. Kindness is love in action. Not just in the form of a Sonic card. But it our everyday attitudes toward the daily demands of life. It's simply investing in the hearts that we have been given to nurture. </div><div><br></div><div>Only on day 4....and its some good stuff friends. So much so...that I am going to pray and study and invest in myself as a mother before moving on to 5. I want to get this down pat. :)</div><div><br></div><div>As my "to do" list continues to grow and change. As the color-coordinated calendar whereby each child has his/her own color is filled, completed, and marked off, and as my ole body wears down.....I realize how blessed I am with the completely beautifully FULL nest I have been charged with loving and serving. </div><div><br></div><div>I cannot imagine what kind of parent would ever EVER turn away from a child. That is a "grace" I pray about extending daily. I'm just not there yet. But that said, God chose me to be there for 6 wonderful children. And with His guidance....I will not take that lightly. We aren't a perfect family. But we sure have our perfect moments.</div><div><br></div><div>"Dare to Love".....is my challenge to you. As parents. Partners. Friends. As God's children. I've learned in Days 1-4....The practice of Love, Patience, and Kindness can be extended to all we meet. I am pretty sure none of these will steer ya wrong. :)</div><div><br></div><div>Train 'em up!!! Ephesians 3:17 tells us to "...root them, and ground them in love." </div><div>How else will they bloom????</div><div><br></div><div>In Him,</div><div>Terri</div><div><br></div><div>PS. I have a prayer request: My David finally was able to see a hand specialist on Friday. News was not good. He is facing surgery for both hands for severe Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. Facing being out of work 4-6 weeks...PER HAND. I cannot begin to tell you how that effects a family of 8....two going into their senior year, with one already in college. Please pray for us. Diligently. And without ceasing. We have definitely been tested in the "sickness and health" arena! :). Please pray that He hold this man that I love so much...and loves and protects our family like no other. Thank you. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-44754055630791187972016-05-02T18:04:00.001-07:002016-05-02T19:02:32.970-07:00You Should Be Here....<div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>Hi Momma.<br><br>I'm writing this letter to you at the end of the day. I'm pooped. I've spent the day at work (from my new job that I absolutely love, by the way!), and the evening answering to the demands of being a mom. You know: picking one up from football, Thanking the Lord for precious "teacher friends" who helped me chase down a backpack, holding a cell phone, in the Middle School restroom...after 5:30 pm, cooking dinner, laundry....ENDLESS laundry....the usual. <br><br>I see you chuckling in heaven as I'm living out all the things you did with us....and foresaw when you first held Sambo and Syd in your arms. It has been their little hands and hearts that have brought me to my knees. I have learned through their lives that there is always someone more important than myself. Serving them has left me tired and drained. Serving them has been the <i>best</i> thing I could do in my lifetime. Their lives remind me every day the things that you taught me..... that life is not about me, it is about loving others.<br><br>Your "Bonus Boys" are doing so well, mom. Oh! How I wish you could have known them. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">David, Jr. - the one with a big heart and even better dreams. I love our rare moments of heart to hearts. A hard worker, and driven young man. Can't wait to watch him achieve each and every one. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Tyler - this one makes me laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Such a cutie patootie. The one who is the first to ask about my day. And tell me about his. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Trey - sweet Trey. The quiet one. The sweetest spirit. The helpful one. The one full of love and pride for all he accomplishes. This one is going to the NBA and gonna buy me a house on the mountain. :). Just ask him!</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Frankie - his innocence is full of wonderment is precious to watch. He says "Momma" no less than 20 times a day and each time I love it more than the last. My little love bug. My sweet Frankie. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">God knew what He was doing by blessing me with a house full of boys. I love them as my own. And pray everyday I make a difference in their lives....as they have mine. </span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">They have no idea now, but all six of my kids are teaching me to lean hard into the moments that shape my character, no matter how uncomfortable they are. They are teaching me that serving others around the clock is hard work. But it is turning my life into something beautiful.<br><br>Before I had them I was told that children are a blessing. They were right, but I didn't understand what they meant. I thought children were a blessing because they were fun, and cute to dress up and take pictures of...blah blah blah. Now I know that children are a blessing because they turn my eyes away from myself. Their lives have stolen my heart. My heart can’t beat for myself anymore. It beats for <i>them</i> from morning to night, and all through the night. When they are in pain or when they have to work extra hard, I feel what <i>they</i> feel. When their feelings are hurt, my heart breaks with them. When they experience something new and scream with excitement, I am cheering right along side of them. Just like <i>you did.</i><br></span><div><i style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></i></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sam is about to finish his freshman year at CBC. Oh, how I miss you. I know you would be in the middle of this and so proudly among each moment. He loves his school and his friends and has a precious girl in his life. And playing baseball for Coach Brister. I think you may have heard of him :) God has His arms holding our Sam....and has guided every moment....every decision. While I'm sad that my baby is growing...I'm at peace with his future. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Syd is thriving. Perfect grades And just was just chosen as a Pepstepper again for her Senior<i> </i>year. <i> </i>This child is a mess. Kinda like <i>your</i> daughter. But everything I wasn't. She is organized and honest and driven and loyal. She is my best friend. Hands down. So much fun.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: start; clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnoYdqYi-laNfTwNBzBjcwjrab-UvcIj9dxMa6ik00zeRgCHjHuRgOqGb8vuUykZ51vYRkpS7AtGoxeOaC6WtYIReAqtVuSEiKv3QVPz_RxBfHyX7bjHGQwJdVBWRpdonuyxe32Kck6O1/s640/blogger-image--1318030090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnoYdqYi-laNfTwNBzBjcwjrab-UvcIj9dxMa6ik00zeRgCHjHuRgOqGb8vuUykZ51vYRkpS7AtGoxeOaC6WtYIReAqtVuSEiKv3QVPz_RxBfHyX7bjHGQwJdVBWRpdonuyxe32Kck6O1/s640/blogger-image--1318030090.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This is hands down my favorite pic of them in ALL the land. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I can't forget my David. I've already told you all about him and I've told him all about you. And SOOO wish he would have gotten to know and love you like we do. I'm sure you know all too well that God had a hand in this. I love him. And more importantly, Mom....He loves ME! <3</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">See, Mom? He lets me be "me." Many have tried to change me. And many have failed. I've hit the jackpot! :) Ding.Ding.Ding. <3</span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With Mother's Day this week, I am celebrating the greatness not only being their mom....but of being <i>your daughter. </i>I don’t want to be honored for the things I have done. I want to honor the One who hasn’t given up on me. Just like you said He wouldn't. When I slammed my fists and threw fits, and strayed from him, He held me close. He has forgiven me. I want to honor God for the work He has done in my life. My beautiful children are a blessing because they bring me joy and point me to the One who will never give up on me. They point me to the only One Who can make me great.</span></div><div><br></div><div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Its May, again. May has always been a big ole month around our house. Several of the important milestones in my life were celebrated in May....ones that used to give me...me/US....such joy! May housed the wonderful dates of Mother's Day....AND your birthday! Funny, how it was SUPPOSED to be all about you....but you always made it all about us. I get it now. :) You always said I would.....<br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My wedding is probably one of my fondest memories of YOU. We planned everything together down to every last detail. I loved that day.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifE5ZoBK0KQdnLttso5jKRnM4QCoxsyJe2Us3QG8sz1jJ6U0dqC2Vvb41Y7lZkltpiAY7bZK0epMxswc-jPk2qalw6pEDgySCwN4Wv2ROZAYsAaOjYi_6OA81tAmzg2A_LIhDfnlwZgdF/s640/blogger-image--145148191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifE5ZoBK0KQdnLttso5jKRnM4QCoxsyJe2Us3QG8sz1jJ6U0dqC2Vvb41Y7lZkltpiAY7bZK0epMxswc-jPk2qalw6pEDgySCwN4Wv2ROZAYsAaOjYi_6OA81tAmzg2A_LIhDfnlwZgdF/s640/blogger-image--145148191.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBFqnlmBGw6OSat-xJv8V6mi3rz6253L0PIlPWJgIcYfE1dBPsKFA9ZnjDtzhlCugHPVuRYivQNs4rrlrmP24xfR6DeD9Hsl7DS0TNYGdb0d4jymQcSNE_l1cZ8YoYBZwGw2o8PxAR5D/s640/blogger-image-1459601521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaBFqnlmBGw6OSat-xJv8V6mi3rz6253L0PIlPWJgIcYfE1dBPsKFA9ZnjDtzhlCugHPVuRYivQNs4rrlrmP24xfR6DeD9Hsl7DS0TNYGdb0d4jymQcSNE_l1cZ8YoYBZwGw2o8PxAR5D/s640/blogger-image-1459601521.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAAvctyTxM99V2N7yoZjJzNtMiUfVjlxrSgu5FEmBooPu5LXXPueF8RQrydtvDj9V_Api8eRT-Kyu9JJp0oYFpJyqvlqtd7D7oGKuOulyJjzEltcEAviCluHw4Gzw_A7qEvCzGGgTGziA/s640/blogger-image-2081732623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAAvctyTxM99V2N7yoZjJzNtMiUfVjlxrSgu5FEmBooPu5LXXPueF8RQrydtvDj9V_Api8eRT-Kyu9JJp0oYFpJyqvlqtd7D7oGKuOulyJjzEltcEAviCluHw4Gzw_A7qEvCzGGgTGziA/s640/blogger-image-2081732623.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font color="#000000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">L<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSH5AY1fckLtmosOCgDI418Ge3hKMWX2RvBBsTPr-94EUZj7vuaLsi8lTLppHeMyRy3qHAX-LAvagd6SAi35UhHRGOEyxJhEwK-YGjhbEkRiNlC8OvPzVrwoTRg6aMD-V5l9KNBZqo3Yrj/s640/blogger-image--101586052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSH5AY1fckLtmosOCgDI418Ge3hKMWX2RvBBsTPr-94EUZj7vuaLsi8lTLppHeMyRy3qHAX-LAvagd6SAi35UhHRGOEyxJhEwK-YGjhbEkRiNlC8OvPzVrwoTRg6aMD-V5l9KNBZqo3Yrj/s400/blogger-image--101586052.jpg" width="400"></a></font></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom, since you have moved on to Heaven....I must admit that I've dreaded the month of May every year. I also remember it was May that you called us in on that fateful day and told us that you were....in fact....terminal. That the doctor had confirmed that there was nothing more "medically" that they could do to help you. That your earthly life was nearing the end and that you need to prepare yourself and your family. You were to "get your affairs in order".....that the end was near. We cried together that day. We prayed together that day. It changed my life. Forever. I didn't agree with your decision to stop treatment. I didn't want to give up. I didn't want to let go. But, as your daughter, as a fellow Survivor, and now...a fellow sister in Christ....I get it, Mom. I get it.</span></div></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You insisted on that little trip to Branson. With just us. I remember riding in the backseat with you and visiting all the way. Funny, how I remember that you told me my teeth were so pretty and white. Isn't it crazy that I remember something like that? I constantly stare at my teeth and remember you.....stupid I know. On that trip, you were wearing down. The muscles in your legs were beginning to deteriorate and you struggled some. We still managed to shop, a little. You bought Sydney a little outfit. Pink t-shirt and little pink flowered capri pants....from the Carter's outlet at Tangier. </span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><br></span><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I remember that because it is the last outfit you purchased for her. Since that time....every time I clean her drawers and closet.....going through her clothes to donate, consign, etc....I set them aside. I then place it neatly back in her bottom drawer. They have gone through each season for almost 15 years, and I just can't part with them. <br><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You also took us to the Dixie Stampede. You bought the kiddos both of one of those beautiful stick horses. The last toy you bought them. Both have theirs in their rooms. Their "mamaw horses"......</span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutEim5Fas9DkwxVcAN4I4GgS1jmWrwRsxoX3Y_Xm9lv7A00pqguRgcJbJyQydg1aGS0Npz4e_Zl789H0agI3tHv8Bgvfd3YiB2vAGaKq7FdswQKIeoBTHet-ASNFwURG21NjDwky5XBaj/s640/blogger-image-278330917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutEim5Fas9DkwxVcAN4I4GgS1jmWrwRsxoX3Y_Xm9lv7A00pqguRgcJbJyQydg1aGS0Npz4e_Zl789H0agI3tHv8Bgvfd3YiB2vAGaKq7FdswQKIeoBTHet-ASNFwURG21NjDwky5XBaj/s400/blogger-image-278330917.jpg" width="391"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Here you didn't feel well....you were wearing that wig you hated....but you pressed on and gave us the gift of a weekend FULL of memories with you that we carry with us forever. I plan to take them to Dixie Stampede, soon. Very soon. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I make sure they know how much you love them. As I look around the ballpark at the proud mamaws and grannys that never miss a game or a performance.....I think of you. I know you are there, too. I would always think that that when Syd asked me for about $20 each ballgame for the concession stand, and I have to tell her "no"....that you would slide her a few bucks when I wasn't looking. :) You would be THAT lady who yelled like a fool when they did something good....and it would be NO secret which kid was "yours." :) Complete with "Sydney Clare's Mamaw" or "I love #4" on your back. No doubt. That would be you.<br><br></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I know you would keep the road hot between Newport and Benton.....and I'd have to get a better mattress for the guest room for you. :) I'</span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My kiddos' events and special days would be much more "grand" and "special" because YOU were that person that made them that way. What in the WORLD am I gonna do when she gets married?????? <br><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I wish I'd have let you teach me a couple of little things like hemming pants, and sewing on buttons....haha. HOWEVER....you'd be proud of the few things I've learned to do as a "dance mom"....I can "stone" and "bedazzle" with the best! :)</span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Tootie and Chuck have more than stepped in to give me loving parents. I'm learning to cook and laugh and just be loved. We feel her warmth in our home from her hearts AND her many afghans. Everyone has their own "Tootie Blanket"! I know you are as happy that I am than God saw fit to give me a "Bonus mom" as we were able to give them children and grandchildren.<br><br></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><br></span><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I've drifted a little...reminiscing of you and what a presence you were in our lives. But back to my point....Since we lost you, I've always dreaded May. Gloomy, depressed, even grumpy. I've learned to be a little more at peace. But I will never get over losing you. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I had the BEST role model in you as a Mom. But darn it! I don't hold a candle to you! :) I am an alarm clock, short-order cook, maid, waitress, teacher, nurse, referee, handyman, artist, security officer, private investigator, photographer, counselor, chauffer, demerit-saver, event planner, hairdresser, personal assistant, an ATM, and I occasionally even have to scare away the boogie man. I'm on call 24-7 and don't get holidays off. I'm a mom. I LOVE it! And...just like YOU said I would.....I get it. :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I do have moments. "Woe is me" moments. But you left behind such a Village. I reach out to Judy when I REALLY need a dose of "you"....She is the closest thing left on earth to you. I have Jay, and Dad, and of course, Tootie and Chuck have adopted us and loves us through all of our mistakes and victories like "only a mother could" haha. It protects me. It restores me....and gives me love. But knowing we will meet again...brings a peace and a hope that lets us go on. You're still with us....And I see all the little ways you let us know that. I get it, Mom.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Things in my life are falling into place. Loose ends are being tied. I'm happy, Momma. I'm really, really happy.<br><br>I strive to live every day by some of the last words you said to me. "To 'Let go and Let God' handle my needs and priorities. And to continue raising my children in the company of Christian friends." You are right. He provides ALL of our needs, and most of our wants. <br><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="border-image-source: none; clear: both;"><font color="#000000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJq1iWXfP9VXbZ5pCqUA2acm8Vrc82ICK-8tDSbZOc2SmOLlSY7AhTLOpk6IwO9U8s1_N2aHht6ViwnpVRoJRNunU3Xccs1ybR-07jqIfeaphQUR3W3yf3iIZUTu3tT4xaP2-xR12Pc0A1/s640/blogger-image-686537411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJq1iWXfP9VXbZ5pCqUA2acm8Vrc82ICK-8tDSbZOc2SmOLlSY7AhTLOpk6IwO9U8s1_N2aHht6ViwnpVRoJRNunU3Xccs1ybR-07jqIfeaphQUR3W3yf3iIZUTu3tT4xaP2-xR12Pc0A1/s400/blogger-image-686537411.jpg" width="400"></a></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And I know how different things would be if you were here. I never thought I'd feel so alone. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So tonight, I'm pretty ticked at Cancer. I wish it had not chosen to pick on you. On us. I know God doesn't make mistakes but He must be rolling His eyes at me doing it without you. This is just hard. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I guess that's why He placed me here. I know in my heart that I'm right where we need to be. That He gave me these friends in my life, mom, to fill the void of family loss in my life. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sometimes, mom, I'm guilty of letting them carry me through this life without you. I get so caught up in "me and mine" that I lose sight of my "servant's heart". And am not the best friend in return. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sometimes I just don't even know what to say or think or feel.<br><br>Numb.<br><br>Lately, I spent a lot of time asking God to give me the words to speak and to know when to speak them and when to be quiet. That is a delicate and mysterious thing and not always my gift. I think I get that from you, momma. Most days, I am able to turn my gaze outward again and am so appreciative of the love and support my friends offer and so freely share. I aim to do a better job of letting them know how much I love them. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There are days, where I slip back inside my head, and I just don't feel worthy of all the wonderful people God has placed around me. The friends who love me in spite of me. Who pick me up. Who forgive. Who let me know I am loved, when I'm not very lovable. You know I'm that way sometimes....not very lovable. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Lately, mom, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. There is so much noise, not from the kiddos, but the static of life in all it's glory, that I could not focus my attention on what mattered, or even figured out what it was that did matter. <br><br>I thought the problem was that I couldn't hear myself think. <br><br>I was ready to clear my plate of obligations. Instead of discernment, I was experiencing a little bit of fight or flight response. Fortunately, after some time, deep breathing, snuggles with the kiddos and prayer, I was able to refocus. The static was drowned out by the still, small voice as I listened to Him. I didn't need to hear myself. I was getting in my own way. <br><br>Thank you for teaching me that direct line to Him. For teaching me to "Let go and let God..." have my life, my worries and my needs. To my dear Lord and my mom.....I need you both. To be a better Christian, mother, partner, and friend. </span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This is how I remember you most....Smiling and silly. You made my childhood special. You instilled in me how to love and give ALL of myself to my children. I try, Mom. I sure hope you would be proud. Being a mom has truly completed me as a person here on earth. It is such a gift. They have brought such joy into my life. Through them, I've met the best of friends and found joy in the simplest of things. I just love it. There really is no greater love than a mother's love. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6mgaUtJvO1YLcnpfLBv33KqzOAdpJVMfU_MiamHSWBKhQubJozj6WUp3q0Yuik3yzYjFrLU90KPefu01uo2x72ZbZC9bXTkJsfhltmYFjBrbfA2hacppbOfp_FwWkm73Bl7MzYY_L8hI/s640/blogger-image--879496278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6mgaUtJvO1YLcnpfLBv33KqzOAdpJVMfU_MiamHSWBKhQubJozj6WUp3q0Yuik3yzYjFrLU90KPefu01uo2x72ZbZC9bXTkJsfhltmYFjBrbfA2hacppbOfp_FwWkm73Bl7MzYY_L8hI/s400/blogger-image--879496278.jpg" width="266"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYikMPlHYhqZb69DUugSO1Bi1l43vzFJaFheD6lkqwsdEOK24tHbvVoTNSafwIMnDncnG2LLVg4kSMkBxiUreRu-qrXxzx7lqNhEzxeUWRbUUUCO2DgRrzJZdeMpDXAmMfPQIarlnlkUW/s400/blogger-image--544607312.jpg" width="265"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I've been told there is a bit of resemblance... Me and you. :)). Oh I wish! I take it as a compliment in the highest form. <3</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Happy Mother's Day, Momma...to US! I miss you more every day. Oh, And Happy Early Birthday. I won't even tell everyone that you're turning 64! Old lady! :) I love you, momma. You should be here....and I know you are. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">XOXO,</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Terri </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="border-image-source: none;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>PS....I couldn't help but read back through some old posts and found a couple where I shared "you".....Thought I'd tag them again. They make me smile. <3<br><a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2012/05/may-27-happy-happy-birthday.html">http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2012/05/may-27-happy-happy-birthday.html</a><br><a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2012/05/may-27-happy-happy-birthday.html">http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2012/05/may-27-happy-happy-birth</a></span></div></div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-21632422979042273822016-02-28T06:24:00.001-08:002016-02-28T07:13:38.259-08:00BoldnessI'm starting this post with a "Hi Friends!!" Because this is one I intend to post. I realize it's been a minute. I've still been doing a lot of writing....just not a lot of posting. When a person writes for therapy, their family and friends often become the target...and/or victim...of those posts, and sometimes I don't post to protect privacy. Other times, my feelings may actually get me into trouble! Haha. So I write and they are safely tucked away beneath a password nobody can crack. <div><br></div><div>This post, however, is for the purpose of accountability. I'll get to that in a minute. </div><div><br></div><div>Change is good. Change is hard. Change is inevitable. </div><div><br></div><div>I've been through a fair amount of change in the past few months. I've learned when you pray those "scary prayers"....ya know....the ones where when you ask God questions, you better be prepared for His answers??? When you pray scary prayers...your heart needs to be ready. He answered with four new sons, a son who became an adult in an instant, a daughter who keeps me on my toes, a new job that is bringing with it precious new friends.....change. </div><div><br></div><div>I've learned when you begin each day thanking Him for His blessings, instead of seeking Him for your burdens....those burdens slowly disappear. Right now, today, I'm more blessed than any woman deserves to be. Especially broken little me. </div><div><br></div><div>I've learned that Satan attacks God's strongest soldiers. We make him nervous. And sometimes.....he actually wins. But there is no greater "joy in the morning" than turning your eyes back to Jesus and being broken before Him. </div><div><br></div><div>As I lie in bed, at sunrise on this beautiful Sunday morning....and ALL my people sleeping soundly in the next room.....I felt the need to recognize my blessings today, and take the burden that is weighing me down and go to Him. </div><div><br></div><div>I've spent the last couple of days in deep talks with my Sam. Having him home is a joy in itself. But having one-on-one, heart to heart talks is rare. He told me of some changes within himself that he has made. He spoke of some "demons" that have been weighing him down, that he has chosen to lay at the cross. </div><div><br></div><div>He shared with me something he learned in the Word through one of his small groups...."to approach the throne with BOLDNESS". Hebrews 4:16 tells us "<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Therefore we should come with boldness to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and may find grace for help in time of need." </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Watching my meek, passive, child....quote scripture, and follow it with such confidence. A BOLDNESS...y'all. Sam isn't afraid. Sam was comforted and confident and BOLD in his approach to accept the grace and mercy of God, even in his weakness. Ready to accept consequence of his brokenness without a fear, because of a trust in God's plan. Oh, to be that obedient. To lay out burdens at the feet of Christ, and never pick them up again.....Go Sam. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">That kid walked in a new young man this weekend. As a mom, what a precious moment to watch him experience that JOY, that take many years to find. And only sorrow for those who may not understand. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I learned something from him in these moments. To approach ANYTHING hurting us a with a boldness. A confidence that with Christ, nothing is too great for His mercy. And His grace. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Friends, I need prayer. I'm not healthy. No, the cancer has not come back....my God BOLDLY took care of that...but frankly? I'm fat. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Laugh if you must, but this is a true burden. Lately, I've noticed many things. I can't keep up. While at Disney, I struggled just keeping up with my daughter and her friends. I was forced to rest often because...I LITERALLY, cannot keep up. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I hurt. My back hurts, my knees hurt, my body just aches. No doubt due to the weight I'm carrying. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I look horrible in pictures. In fact, I almost choose not to be in them, because I'm so unhappy with my appearance. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">All of this may sound trite, but please know that I'm not a vain person. I can't wait to get home and stay there. Simply going to the grocery store wears me out. Ballgames and school functions wipe me out. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I'm not healthy. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Yesterday my timehop reminded me that exactly 4 years ago, I reached a weight loss goal of 50lbs lost. I looked and felt better than I ever had. It also saved my life by revealing a lump in my breast, that could have taken my life had I not lost the weight and known it was there. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Anyway, I posted this picture, taken on Easter Sunday, two weeks before my diagnosis...</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNG15lhOl16Qazv01c-edsQSpqLKhi53itIyYpHuB_LZMmXps_IS5Xhu7wA2bLf4xrJj1brPvf_D8t6N_JW0gHFXbsmAeNEyVK5G5VbR6vPwtiuBSncFPxdWdp3oJ0UzDPXNiDNNGWnBn/s640/blogger-image-430330308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuNG15lhOl16Qazv01c-edsQSpqLKhi53itIyYpHuB_LZMmXps_IS5Xhu7wA2bLf4xrJj1brPvf_D8t6N_JW0gHFXbsmAeNEyVK5G5VbR6vPwtiuBSncFPxdWdp3oJ0UzDPXNiDNNGWnBn/s640/blogger-image-430330308.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">So...I'm making the decision, to get it back off. Again. Damn you, steroids. And chemotherapy. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Okay....and diet cokes. And chocolate. And French fries. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I want to approach this burden of my health....with a boldness. It will be harder than ever before. With my age. My busy schedule. My large family to feed. And my inability to do all the things I could before. </span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I am asking for prayer. And help. And loving nudges to help me on this journey. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I want to stand on a beach in June. Take pictures and capture memories with my family. For I realize, there may not be many more with us as a whole. I don't want to be embarrassed because of how I look. I want to FEEL like soaking up every moment with them. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">This is my goal. 40 lbs. by June 25. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Approaching with a boldness. Will you pray for me? (And Sam, too....as his faith walk continues to change him.)</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">In Him,</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Terri</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-41914198553241244492015-10-30T13:01:00.000-07:002015-10-30T13:29:17.640-07:00Bye Bye, Pink Month<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the eve of the last day of the dreaded “Pink Month”….I find myself hating cancer today. Of missing my mom. Of being just kinda ticked. I have those days. Guessing we all do.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had my checkup this month…And while all is well from an "oncology" standpoint, all kinda isn’t well. I try not to talk about cancer often. But the fact is…that I have to. Its my therapy, y’all. And this month, along with its races, and pink ribbons, and anniversary dates, etc, I find myself reliving it. Cancer…is a mean, mean beast. Mean. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And it’s cure? Even meaner.<br><br>When I walked out of my last chemo session three years ago, the sweet nurses (turned sweet friends) who shepherded me through the previous 7 treatments pushed play on the virtual boom box and the song, "Hit the Road Jack," filled the air. With smiles, hugs and tears, we said goodbye and the refrain, “don’t cha come back no more,” couldn’t have been more on point. However, there was no similar ceremony at the oncologist’s office after the termination of chemotherapy, as the message was clearly delivered, “I am your doctor now, and we are going to be friends a very long time. We will continue to follow your care.” The idea of trading in a primary care physician for an oncologist still brings a knot to my stomach. I’m well aware that the biannual blood tests and frequent X-rays have one purpose: scanning for the return of the monster. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a result, I always feel strange sitting in the waiting room of my oncologist’s office. Three years out, I can still recall the feeling of being in active treatment, waiting for my name to be called so I could take my chair and get hooked up for the next five hours. I cannot help but scan the room these days and feel deep empathy for those who I know are only starting their journey. As I’ve said a million times, I feel a twinge of survivor’s guilt as I sit with my head full of regrown hair, full blood count, and absence of chemo-induced fatigue. I want to SCREAM to everyone…I am still affected. Still tired. Still have chemo-brain, and am probably almost as scared as they are. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I’m not. <br><br> During these times, I remember what it felt like to be starting this challenge and how I felt when survivors showed up, aglow with a radiance that comes from having survived the perfect storm of physical and emotional traumas. To ease this guilt, I imagine that I’m being seen as an inspiration — living proof, with a huge emphasis on the living part — that treatment can work, the beast can be tamed. However, part of me is aware that others may be thinking, as I did on occasion, “How dare you look so healthy!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sobering moment arrives when I see that person who I know may never get to have a final appointment, who may never know the relief of a clear CT scan or blood work. To say that one is humbled by this awareness falls short of the affective response deep within one’s heart. As a faithful Christian, I want to reach out and hold that person’s deepest fears while they regain, if even for a moment, the ability to breathe freely again. I want to tell them that I know the demons they face and assure them that, despite how it appears, all is well. Instead of opening up my therapist tool kit, however, I choose to sit as a silent patient who’s simply waiting her turn to be called to see the doctor. Often, I recite a silent prayer or healing mantra to the others who wait with me, as there are moments when no words can be just as powerful as any cliché: “Hang in there,” or “It will get better.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the dreaded PINK MONTH ends, I always meet and have a newfound kinship with new survivors in my life….or the dreaded “newly diagnosed” in my life. For really…they are the ones who “get it.” Sure, we’re all connected at that moment by the label “patient,” but it’s a deeper connection one senses; a communal sharing of the fragility, humility and resiliency of the human spirit. While I still hate having an oncologist as my PCP, tempered by this experience of community, it’s a hate I hope to have well into the future. <br><br>This month is about awareness. I’m kinda cranky when I hear my dear loved ones and friends complaining about the discomfort of a mammogram. Trust me! It’s not as bad as chemo. So….hush it. And get ‘em. Just get them already. <br><br>Thanks for letting me have a little “cancer talk” today. I'm pretty sure I earned it.<br><br>God bless those fighting. Hug them. Love them. Pray for them. <br><br>In Him,<br>Terri</span><br> </div>
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-285865372944712432015-10-15T09:33:00.001-07:002015-10-15T09:59:21.354-07:00Bonus BlendJust lazy in bed in this morning. The alarm clock will go off shortly...and the "sweet blessings of chaos" of the day will commence. But for now, all my "littles" are still sleeping soundly and its soooo quiet. <br />
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Happiness consumes me. I guess I'm showing my age, but I'm just reflecting this morning. I started out writing a Facebook status and after a few lines in, decided I better open the blog app. This one is gonna be a bit long for that! Haha. So here I am. <br />
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An update. My Sam is LOVING college. I have been THAT mom who downloaded snapchat so I could just see his face. :). He is right where he needs to be. This transition into adulthood is heaven-sent, I tell ya. Where life lessons are taught lovingly. He is meeting and making great friends, settling in with the team, adoring his coaches, engaging in church and life group activities, and his grades are just fine. Midterm grades are in and I'm pleased. God granted me the best kiddo in the world to flee the nest first. He loves his momma so he pacifies me with some sort of daily communication....and he is making me proud. He also has a new "friend" (of the female nature) that is simply preccccioussssss. Had is first game last Saturday....and headed back to watch him again this weekend. I'm getting to know his friends, their parents, and its good. All of it. So very good. <br />
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Syd. Still a mess. With all the change, she is adjusting slowly. But outside of the teenage hormonal "mouth" ....(I'm convinced if it were possible for God to have made a mistake, that it was allowing teenage girls to talk at all).....she is becoming very independent, thriving in all her activities, and still my best friend. She and her dance team are going to Disney to compete in the National Dance competition in a few months....so when they aren't at a game or school....they are practicing. They work so hard. I've never been to Disney or in a place to be able to take my kiddos. And have NO idea how I'm gonna afford to go, but somehow, we are gonna make it happen so that I can be like all the other moms and be with her. I pray everyday that we can make this happen. Kinda hard to hit the lotto when ya don't even play! ha Sydney doesn't stray far from me. There is no way she will get on a plane without me. <br />
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But... I am SO proud that they are being honored and rewarded and being able to represent our town in this way. Join me in prayers for their efforts and fundraising endeavors. They so deserve it. <br />
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Here is an update to my previous post...<a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2015/08/im-nobody.html" target="_blank">"I'm Nobody..."</a><br />
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The boys are settling in perfectly. They smile the kind of smiles that show ALL over your face! Eyes light up....the whole bit. I look forward to hearing from and talking to each one of them....each and everyday. While our "legal issues" are still in process, I can tell ya that those boys are my sons. No, I don't have a right to them in the eyes of the law....but in my heart....they are my sons. <br />
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We DID have our court hearing. Or rather.....we showed up for the court hearing. God moved! The "other parties" never filed the proper paperwork so there never was a guardianship. The case was closed years ago. So the judge said..."take your boys and go home." It was the most wonderful day. The boys were so happy....as were we.<br />
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Bonus Son #1:<br />
For the first time, the he just gets to be a kid. He gets to worry about "kid stuff," not raising his brothers. Homecoming dates. Grades. His first job. Football. I'm watching the sadness in his eyes....slowly disappear. Oh how my heart is happy! <br />
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He is also struggling with his knee. Age 16, and two knee surgeries under his belt. Unfortunately, he didn't receive the physical therapy that was needed to bounce back. We are working through those issues now. All he wants to do is play football. All WE, as parents want...is for him to be happy. And will do whatever it takes to achieve that. Please pray for him. <br />
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I love my relationship with this one. How he knows he can come to me for whatever. How he talks to me about prayer. And his future. (He wants to be a doctor. And no doubt, he will be!) And his new girlfriend. Shopping with him for the perfect homecoming clothes. His disappointment of the past....and his knee....all of it. We are building trust. And love. And it is good. Real, real good. I strive everyday to be a mom to him.....one that makes him proud. One that he can love. And count on. And trust. Just be a kid, sweet boy. Be a kid.<br />
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#2: This one is a funny, funny kid. He makes me laugh....every single day. I do worry about him...and how his heart must have been so shattered the past few years. My goal....to fix that. And fast. Grades were iffy in the beginning....but whether he knows it or not....the accountability we have given him, and the incentives placed before him to get them up??? Are working! After the first 9 weeks....they are up! He is working hard...and it shows. And when we have the roundtable "checking of the grades"....his eyes are fixed upon us as we check. He knows his hard work is paying off. I am so proud. I just love him so.<br />
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The first to say "thank you" for the meal we prepare. And "love you" as he gets off the phone. This one is special. <br />
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Since the "custody stuff" is settled....he (and his brother) can now dress out for games on Friday nights. My boys are Panthers. In every sense of the word.<br />
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#3: This one....has my WHOLE heart. I probably worry about him the most. (It's a momma thing....). Although....great strides have been made. I can't wait to write about those. He is my buddy. The first one to help me unload the car on grocery day. The first one to offer if I say "I need a volunteer...". Other than the STINKIEST feet on the planet....I cannot say a cross word about this one. I've watched this sad, sad child, open up and just steal my heart. When the others are playing Xbox and watching sports....this one pads into my bedroom and snuggles in with me to watch whatever "chick flick" I have playing. This one...says "I love you" (and says it first) and gives me a hug before he leaves every morning....and before he goes to bed....EVERY night. This one points out the houses along the Arkansas River that he plans to buy us one day when he makes it big in the NBA. I asked him about his backup plan if the NBA doesn't work out? Well....the NFL... then. :) He is my dreamer. Dream big...kiddo. Dream big.<br />
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This one...gets a tummy ache...when he thinks he has disappointed us. He frets over always doing the right thing. If only he knew....that NOTHING could make us not love him. Or be disappointed in him. Time will fix that. This, I know. <br />
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His grades are good, except for a struggle in one class. But we have faith in him. And let him know this daily. My goal...for the sadness to leave. And forever. And ever. I adore this child.<br />
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#4: Oh goodness....our baby. God broke the mold, y'all. This one is a the family clown. The class clown. He is the extreme to every emotion. A little love bug...that we hold our breath each day to see if there were any "issues". haha A frequent flyer in DH....we are working on this one. Severely, ADHD....we have finally starting the counseling process and have appointments forthcoming to have him evaluated. It was found that he was diagnosed years ago....but so many "missed appointments, sessions and evaluations." they closed his case. So we are starting over. I'm good with that. Fresh start. We WILL make sure he has all of the tools he needs to be successful.<br />
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His grades are for the most part, good. We have a great working relationship with his teachers, counselors, etc. and he is in a situation to be his best. I have noticed that things are settling down for him. No real issues in a few weeks. He knows he is home. And to stay. What a weight lifted for this child. <br />
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He tugged at my heart recently. When someone asked him who takes him to church? He said, "my mom and my dad...." I had to leave the room and take a moment. "My mom....." <3</div>
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For prayer purposes, here are some ways you can pray for us....<br />
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Protection of the boys hearts. They have been repeatedly placed in the middle of "adult stuff." And some were continuing to try to do that, but thankfully that is better. We are protecting them at ALL costs.<br />
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We are still trying to get the order for stopping of child support. SOOOO, that said...we are still paying for them (going on week 12) while they are living with us. I cannot begin to tell you what a financial struggle this is. In addition, we are not receiving from their biological mother....as she is TOO paying to the grandmother. Or rather....supposed to be. We have no way of knowing that, yet. Our attorney is working on that. Thank GOD for him. A blessing.<br />
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Pray for my family. That we can create a home for them....a loving home. Where they have the tools....not to "survive"....but to THRIVE! That I continue to get to know these little things about them. Like a momma should...<br />
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All six of these kids are so incredibly easy to love. My home is alive with laughter. And silliness. And love. Are we perfect? Nope. That means they are comfortable. There are no "steps" in my house. None to enter our home...and none withIN our home. Family isn't defined by blood...only love. Love of the Lord....and each other. <br />
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My cup overflows.<br />
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God is good, y'all. So good. His timing is perfect. He is HEARING our prayers...and responding to our calls. So many ways I can back that up.<br />
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In Him,<br />
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Terri<br />
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-51626383052238644622015-09-15T08:21:00.003-07:002015-09-15T08:21:57.801-07:00Cancer CatwalkThis week I'm jumpin WAY out of my comfort zone, y'all. From my "comfort zone" to the "catwalk"....literally.<br />
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I have the honor of participating in the "Runway For a Cause" whereby proceeds benefit the Arkansas Affiliate of Susan G. Komen. All of the models will be dressed in fashions by local boutiques and are breast cancer survivors.</div>
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You can read all about it <a href="http://komenarkansas.org/arkansas-events/2015-runway-for-a-cause/" target="_blank">here</a>! :)</div>
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It wasn't until I went to the "meet & greet" recently, which was an informational meeting over "wine and goodies" with the committee and the other models that I realized just how BIG this thing is. They raised about $75,000 last year....and this year, when 850 tickets were sold out, they are scrambling to add more tables to sell more tickets. Wow. That's a lot of folks. The venue is HUGE and little ole' me is going to strut down the runway in what will inevitably be in front of about 1000 people???? For the last couple of weeks, thinking about it has made me sick and feel like this MUST be worse than cancer......</div>
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For you see? I have never thought of myself as pretty by society's standards. Shorter than most.....Heavier than I should be....Hair that never really does what I want it to....ya get the jist. However...there HAVE been times that I FELT pretty. Don't get me wrong...I didn't wear a bag over my head and let it affect me or depress me. Vanity was never that big of a deal. </div>
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But since cancer??? Not once. I can honestly say....that not one time have I felt pretty. Again....I'm not really a vain person, but sometimes...it sorta does get to me. Once I described my body as a place where Edward Scissorhands has played Connect-The-Dots. I've been cut armpit to armpit....twice. Distorted. Ugly. The steriods, the hormonal changes, and most likely age (and ok....since I always write from a place of honesty....the donuts) have packed the pounds on me, I just can't get this weight off no matter how hard I try. My hair. EVERY single person I have ever known who lost their hair to chemo....it came back different from before. I was like...YES! Nope....I got the same ole thick..."just enough curl to cause problems" hair. And, cancer caused it to be gray!! (That's my story and I'm stickin to it!) :) Thank goodness for great colorists! <3</div>
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A double mastectomy is brutal. 3 years later and I'm still not the same. Physically or Emotionally. Due to my insurance woes....Reconstruction was really never a viable option. And by the time ya beat cancer AND the "Red Devil"??? Who really cared?? I didn't. Nothin can make me look better nekkid. :) So I've got my fake boobies on a shelf in my closet should they ever matter. I've had them on twice. The day I got them and when I was a bridesmaid in a wedding. I'm still undecided if they will accompany me down the runway on Thursday. They are sorta like a statement of being something that I'm just not. Weird....I know.<br />
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If I hear one more time...."Who cares? You're alive! You beat it!" I think I will punch someone. While, I'm so happy to have beat it. And SO happy to continue walking through the spider web and dodging the spider bite....it still<i> succcckkkksssss... </i><br />
Forgive me...I don't really like using ugly words....but there really is no worthy equivalent. Yes, I'm healthy and alive. But, it STILL took alot from me. And from all who fight it.</div>
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As I was driving to work this morning....feeling fat and so UN-modelish, and counting down the days....not to this event....but to when this event was OVER...God spoke to me. The message of the day on KLove was this, "If you are called to do something that is normally out of your character....then it is most likely GOD giving you a little nudge." A lady called in to the show to say that she was in a public place with a woman obviously in the middle of a cancer fight. She was pale, and weak and appeared to be exhausted. She had a scarf on her head to hide her baldness. The caller explained that....SO out of her character...she was given the urge to just walk over and hug her. No matter how hard she tried....she couldn't resist and just hugged the lady tightly. She explained that God was guiding her just then....to go out of her normal comfort zone, and extend love.</div>
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While this really isn't the same thing....it sorta is. In two days....I get the opportunity to meet and be among 48 other women who have SURVIVED breast cancer. Who have been through the surgeries and the chemos and the radiations and the fears and even the love. These women have FOUGHT and WON! Some are fighting and may just need MY story! Bear with me a sec....but if each of these 48 women have at least 5 loved ones. 5 people who think that SHE is one of the most important women in their world....be it a spouse, partner, child, sister, parent, grandparent, friends.....That is 240 additional people that this disease reached. And I get to celebrate WITH and AMONG them. What a privilege!!!<br />
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It has already allowed me to spend some time catching up with my sweet friend, Dana....who was one of my greatest encouragers and heroes during my fight. She will be the envy of everyone with her inward and outer beauty. Cute as a button! And, also Michelle...a friend from my childhood home and church home. God made sure I wasn't alone.</div>
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These incredible fighters get it! They understand the chemo brain.....and all the memories lost because of it. That is why I blog and facebook so often. I'm CONVINCED that Timehop was created by a "Chemo Survivor".....:) My kiddos will forever have my words. Forever. And I will always have my life reminders of my posts. </div>
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They understand the struggle with eyesight, and weight gain, and oncology checkups. They realize the pain of simple things like a seatbelt and trying to scratch an itch in the middle of their back. </div>
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They understand the personal kick in the stomach every single time they hear of someone around them with a new diagnosis. If you could write a letter to a new Survivor Sister....This is what it would look like: <a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2015/04/dear-terriyou-have-cancer.html" target="_blank">Dear Terri...You have Cancer.</a><br />
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I've met with my vendors...and to be completely honest -- I left both places feeling inadequate. Not necessarily because THEY made me feel this way....but because I don't feel worthy. Both boutiques were beautiful and the clothes exquisite. Price tags so out of my reach that this will be the only time I can even DREAM of wearing these clothes. I worry that I don't do them justice. Or make anyone want to rush and purchase them. In fact....the mere ticket to an event like this is out of my budget.<br />
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I have visions of the scene from <i>Sex in the City</i> where Carrie wore 6 inch heels to appear taller and after about 4 steps down the runway she took a flying fall and the models stepped over her like roadkill. haha As THIS 5'3" rolly polly steps into her mile high clog booties on Thursday....I just PRAY I can walk up there with the big girls without a casualty! <3 While a part of me wishes I can lose 50 lbs and grow about 6 inches in 2 days....I know that is not a "realistic prayer." :)<br />
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Then it hit me. THIS isn't what it is about. This is a celebration of Survivorhood. This is a fun event for ladies who enjoy fashion. This is a way to raise funds for a cure! And for mammograms and for prevention. For ladies JUST like me who didn't have insurance (or rather one that would pay.) This is a way that I can give back. <br />
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I stand in a room once a week and I lead prayer for my children and their teams to simply do their best and honor Him. I was instrumental in starting a ministry that's primary focus was to give it ALL to God, and let Him bless our efforts. I was reminded this morning to do just that. Time to do a little practicin' of what I've been preachin'....<br />
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So today? I have a newfound joy in the events this week. I splurged and got a mani/pedi. I'm getting a spray tan and I had my hair did. I will be wearing beautiful clothes specifically picked for me and I will have two of the best friends in the world there for ME. I will meet new heros and inevitably be touched by bone-chilling inspiration. I will be there early to sip mimosas and have my "hair and makeup did!" For a few moments...I will strut my stuff, y'all. <br />
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I think my mom would be so happy to see me on Thursday. She would have been my biggest fan!<br />
As always...I'm reminded what she used to say about anything that worried me...."Pray about it...and just put on some lipstick!" I even wrote about that once....<a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2015/04/just-put-on-little-lipstick.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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You can bet...I won't be the prettiest. I won't be the skinniest. I may even stumble in those big ole shoes....But, rest assured.....I will be walking for my God. For HE is always with me. My God carried me through cancer...and all that entailed. My God gave me Deb....who is STILL fighting for me...I still wonder how that lady got a ticket! lol My God gave me Kel....who never lets me down. These girls are gonna have special jewels in their heavenly crowns for always being MY friend! haha There are others who are supporting me in spirit....and will no doubt lift me in prayer that day.<br />
And...who knows?? For just a blip in time....I just might FEEL pretty. :)<br />
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I feel led to share the one and only picture I have of my "bald days"....a simple reminder of what cancer looks like....<br />
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It was during this time, that while I didn't feel "pretty"....I never felt more loved. <br />
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This Catwalk's for you, my Lord! <3<br />
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<i>"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." </i></div>
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<i>Philippians 4:6-7</i><br /><br />In Him,</div>
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Terri<br /><br />
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-24295352285245032362015-08-27T08:30:00.001-07:002015-08-27T10:52:17.622-07:00I'm Nobody?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>".....start worrying about your own family, chick. Hell, your not even married to this man. So, your nobody." </i>This is a quote....so don't chastise me, grammar police! :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was the end of a recent facebook posting. About me. Apparently, I'm "nobody." One more tidbit...it was written by the biological mother of my new sons. A woman that I've laid eyes on one time in the 4+ years that I've known and loved this man. A woman who has NOTHING to do with her children. A woman who has resided right across the street from them for months and hasn't seen them. A woman who hasn't had custody of them in ELEVEN years. (note....the youngest is 12. HER youngest is even younger....and not with her, either.) A woman who hasn't inquired about them, made contact with us, OR them....at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That above statement almost laughable. Until, you reallllly sit and think about it. Sad. Sad....is what it is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I come tonight asking for prayers. I am wide awake with no sleep in sight. Prayers for an impossible situation. Almost like a "cancer".....and we all know that I know quite a bit about that. Prayer for my bitter heart and lack of understanding. For I will NEVER be able to understand or condone the actions of a bad mother. Being a parent is such a gift. A blessing straight from the heavens that should be the most important role one should EVER play. As a mother.....I would claw the eyes out of ANYONE who tried to hurt my children. Of ANYONE who would try to take them from me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The day my children were placed upon my chest....My life was forever changed. While the road hasn't always been easy, I hope and pray that when I stand before my God, He WILL say to me "Well done, my faithful child....." My children and I have survived death, divorce, cancer, financial struggles.....all of it. But we are a team. They know to seek Jesus. Whether because of me or in SPITE of me....they know that they are loved. Motherhood is a job I've never taken lightly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In addition, I've always respected not only the father of my children, but his wife as well. I've never wanted my children to be torn. I've always said...there is room enough in their hearts for all of us. And I believe that. Time after time, we can all come together for the needs of our children. We can share meals together. And Senior Nights. And dorm move-ins. Baptisms. All of their special moments. Its about THEM. Always. I'd like to think we have always co-parented well. I say all of that, to let you know my stance on dealing with "exes". All who know me....know that about me. And well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just don't get it. I'm trying not to judge....but how can you have children and not raise them? How can you walk away? How can you place greed and selfishness above them and their needs? How can you exhibit such ignorance as to post something so ugly about A) someone you've NEVER met and B) someone who is LOVING YOUR CHILDREN??? Lord, come quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few facts....for the need of specific prayers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My David is a lineman. 10 years ago....he had custody of his children when he was called away out of state to work Hurricane Katrina. The children went to stay with their grandmother who became their guardian. While this was before I knew him, a part of me is angry at him for leaving them then. However, the man had to work and provide. So, I'm praying about giving total grace to that decision. He has paid his child support....enough that she hasn't had to work, mind you....and has loved his children very much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, a single dad who has had to travel for work (home about 2-4 days a month!)....he relied on "Grandma." When I met him, he coached their ball teams, and his life was the boys. His goal has always been to work his way up in the company....out of having to travel.....so that his boys can come live with him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will admit. That when I began dating David....being a stepmother to 4 children wasn't in the cards. I even told him as much. I'm aware that makes me appear to be a monster...but, I had survived a messy failed marriage, with not the best relationships with my stepchildren. I had been burned. And hurt. I had my own "stuff". Made my own mistakes in that arena. I'm a "few" years older than David....and little ones were a job! FOUR? were impossible. I was struggling to make ends meet. I then got sick. Cancer took over our world. David stood by me, and even though he could have left, helped me to parent my own two. He shared with me a few months ago, that it was in the very beginning....that he began praying for God to change my heart. To OPEN my heart. He shared that one of the things he admired most about me was the kind of mother I am. He wanted that for his boys.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Know that I have tried to have the utmost respect for the boys' grandmother. She stepped in when David couldn't....and gave them their needs. Where was their mother, you ask? A mystery to me. No judgement. Just facts. Ok....I'm fibbing. Maybe, a little judgment. Again, I'm seeking to understand. My heart isn't ready to offer that grace to her just yet. That's a place where I need prayer. For I'm trying, friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I made the declaration, 5 years ago...."I'll never date a man with children!".....I ate my words a few short weeks ago. We began the process over the last year, for the boys to come and live with us. They were begging and pleading. Every weekend when it came time to take them back....there were tears. We were in a position to have them. It was time. It had also started to become painfully to light...that while the boys were living there, they were simply existing. I remember asking once... what their favorite meals were? Nobody answered. They fended for themselves most of the time. Sandwiches. Cereal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It has been a TREAT to have a home-cooked meal every night. To have a bed. One informed me that he had been sleeping on the floor. To be loved and have guidance and even discipline. Yes...I think they even love our routines. We have it like a well-oiled machine, my friends. I believe in my heart...that their homelife until now...has been one of survival. Not of nurture. Of love. Of family. My heart is simply broken for these precious children.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After months of getting the change of custody in motion....and lack of cooperation...we had told the boys that it may be a little longer and we would have to take extreme measures. We wanted to be amicable. To do these the right way. Now, I have found myself in a place of having to be an advocate for these children. THE DAY before school started.....the boys were told they were no longer welcome at Grandma's house. She left them a voicemail....kicking them out. A voicemail. To your grandchildren, after a visit to their dad's..."you don't live here anymore." Let that sink in for a second.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PRAISE GOD! Myself, and my village...got them enrolled in school, placed them in football, found them clothes and beds and school supplies and everything they needed to be a part of our family. Our world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ALL of their information purposely withheld from us....birth certificates, social security cards, Insurance information, shot records.....all of it. And God's angels made it happen. Everything fell into place that day....and our little town brought them in and welcomed them home. Even their former school cooperated....and saw their best interests unfolding. God's arms wrapped around us all....sent so many to help....and brought our boys home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To date, we have been made aware of the many things that these boys have survived. How food stamp money (If I told you how much...it would tick you off!) wasn't spent on food....but sold for cash. How their dad's child support was spent on everything BUT them....even used to pay for their mother's child support to keep her from going to jail. Outside of the clothes and shoes that WE and David's family bought over the years, their clothes and gifts and everything....hand-me-downs and donations from local churches. That their shots weren't even up to date. We have audio, video and pictures of their living conditions. Holes in the floor. A house that needs to be condemned. Their little hearts were just used. They weren't nurtured. They were simply a source of income. And even TOLD as much. When they were finally allowed to pick up their things....every bit of it fit in a couple of trash bags. They were barely allowed to bring what little they had with them. It's sickening. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> SOOOO many things that cause me to question the integrity of those who had surrounded them. As I drove them to school the first day, and drove away in tears...I knew that God had opened my heart...and changed me. I love these boys. I want to save them. Each day, I see the sadness in their eyes slowly disappearing. When they call me in the afternoons to let me know they made it home? They say "I love you." (And they say it first.) When they need something they forgot at school? They call me. When they didn't have a ride to football and didn't know a soul? I was at the school to take them. When they scan the stands....(Just like my Sam used to...) to see if we are there? I get to wave to them. When I turn the corner in the afternoons....and the youngest spots my car...He lights up and waves....SO happy to see....ME. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please don't misunderstand....I'm not expecting or asking for pats on the back. I'm simply pointing out, that the little things we all take for granted are EVERYTHING to some. I get the joy of being their bonus mom. I may be "nobody" to some. But, I get the honor of being "SOMEBODY" to them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not once have they missed their former school. Not once have they asked to visit their former home. The laughter and joy they are now experiencing in our home, makes my heart so full it could almost burst. They are thriving! Making friends. Settling in. Getting good grades. The best part? They are just normal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The boys' grandmother has yet to sign the papers necessary to cease our payment of child support. She has EVEN tried to have his child support raised in the days since they came to live with us. You read that right. The caseworkers at both DHS and OSCE are both disgusted. David continues to pay her each week. Hundreds of dollars....while waiting for these proceedings to unfold. She continually lets him down....saying one thing while doing another. Lie after lie after lie. It is a struggle. To pay her....and to raise them. But we are making it. Please pray for this specific request. I know that God will protect us all. And that the system will not only work for the betterment of our family....but prevent her from getting away from this much longer. I'm holding tight to the promise of "ya reap what ya sow."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pray for my heart. For I am so bitter. I am so angry. I just will never understand. It is my job, as a faithful Christian....to extend grace. And, I'm struggling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the eyes of the law, I have no rights to my new sons. Which is sad, really. But, I will love them. I will protect them. And I will let them know how precious they are. God has a sense of humor, kinda. Our family isn't perfect....but we are perfect together. These boys have blessed me FAR more than I deserve. And again....I hope to stand before MY Father...and He answer with "Well done, my good and faithful child..." This IS my family. And I worry about them daily. So happy to have them home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To my new sons.... I'm sorry that those who should NEVER fail you...have. I love you. And I will never fail you. And I will tell you and show you every day for the rest of my life. Welcome home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And...to them? Maybe. Just maybe...I AM somebody.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Train up a child in the way he should go,</span></span></i><br />
<span class="text Prov-22-6" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">And when he is old he will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">In Him,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Terri</span></div>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-30339236357101998082015-08-12T13:15:00.000-07:002015-08-12T13:15:56.049-07:00Are you there, God?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are you there, God? Its me....Momma.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've got a few ....well a LOT....of requests for ya today. For you see? I'm not strong. I'm weak. I'm overwhelmed. I'm S-appy....which I'm convinced is a word for Happy and Sad at the same time. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm worried. I'm a complete mess. In short....I just flat need ya big time.<br /><br />My Sammy is moving 50 whole miles from my front door :). His friends are, too. Some much further....MUCH, much further. Some are lying their heads at home, but will not be heading to BHS on Monday. Their lives are moving forward. While, MUCH of my requests are about THEM....I'm going to be a tad selfish and ask for some prayers for me. And my friends. The mommas. Well, the dads, too....but really the mommas.<br /><br />For you see? Our hearts are so all over the place. Be with us as we learn our new place as parents. My heart is welled with joy and thanksgiving, anticipation and anxiety, amidst a longing to be together as we have been till now. His years of growing up have moved so quickly, so many things left undone, so much left unsaid, so much I still hope to give to my child who is taking this new step in the journey of life.<br /><br />Help us as we reshape our lives to reflect this new reality of college. Show us new ways to be present to each other in love and in trust. Give me patience and help me to remember that my child is establishing new routines in freedom, routines different from my routines.<br /><br />Help me to let him go.<br /><br />Help me to guide him. And teach him that <i>College is a Privilege. </i>Sure, I expected him to go. But this in no way takes away from the fact that spending four years learning, growing and focused almost exclusively on himself is a gift like none other. Before he sets foot on campus, I wish him think through the millions in human history and try to guess how many people were given this opportunity. Even fewer play sports at the college level. MAKE him see and acknowledge just how rare and special this gift is. <br /><br />Guide me to help him realize that this is the <i>Best Four Years of His Life. </i>Lord, I pray that he takes the initiative to soak in deeply of all that this Christian University has to offer. That he loads his plate with its academic, athletic, cultural and social offerings. Never again will life mix youth, freedom, opportunity and resources together in quite this combination. If these are to be the very best years, he must make them so.<br /><br />Father, help him to realize that the <i>First Weeks of College are a Time like None Other.</i><br />Everyone will want to meet everyone and there will be none of the social awkwardness that usually accompanies rushing up and speaking to total strangers. He must not squander this short window of opportunity, for it may will never come around again.<br /><br />Precious God, <i>Don't Let Him Be Stupid!</i> :) He will now be in a place where the judgement is both allowed and encouraged. The only thing that stands between him and a very bad experience is his own good judgment. But here is the tricky part. So is everyone around him. On the flip side, Lord....Help me to allow him to bump his knee, or to miss a deadline. Help me to step aside....so he can learn life's lessons.<br /><br />Lord, <i>Give Him those "Forever Friends." </i>He sat in the same classes or did the same activities as his high school friends and teammates. In college, maintaining friendships is a bit more work. After college it is a lot more work. Investing in friendships now pays dividends forever, truly forever.<br /><br />God...Help him to see how <i>How His Home is Now Different. </i>It is Sam's blessing to never have lived in a place where no one loved him. At the outset, college is that place. Despite everyone’s outward cheer in the first weeks of college, he will have no real friends....yet. Sure he will know some kids, but these are not true friends, yet. They are still just acquaintances he really likes, but barely knows. Lord, I beg for your hand on his new friendships and relationships. <br /><br />Help him to see that <i>I Was Once 18.</i> When he looks at me, he sees “Mom” and “Old.” Do not let him be fooled. Not one fiber of my being has forgotten how it feels to be his age. Let him know that if he has a problem, talk to me. Few things he will say will shock me and there is every chance, though admittedly just a chance, that I might have a good suggestion. And while the law may recognize him as an adult, Lord, let him realize how much he has left to learn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lord...again, I ask. Help me to let him grow. And leave. And learn. Teach him that I may not necessarily have all the answers, but that he is not alone.<br /><br />I have loved him every moment of his life. Even as he prepare to move out, I shock myself <i>by Loving Him even More! </i>This love comes without strings, but life does not. If there are things he wants to achieve, knowledge he wants to gain, and friends he wants to make... it is now entirely up to him. Guide him in these moments...that will forever change him.<br /><br />Calm my fears. Strengthen and protect my child in the midst of the challenges and temptations which surround all students. Grant greater courage that I myself may have had in standing for your truth against compromises of faith.<br /><br />Provide good friends and worthy confidants for my child during these college years. Help me to give support and confidence, to discern how I am needed now, and to pass on, in my love, a measure of the strength and courage you have given me in the gift of parenting.<br /><br />Nudge him on Sunday mornings and make chapel more than a requirement. Help him to seek YOU. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When someone looks at Sam...be it now, or in a week, or in a year. Let them see You. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lord, I also ask that you be with my Sydney. Her brother is her buddy. Her friend. Also, let her know that she is not merely a "back up dancer" in the "Sam Show." In my eyes, she is a "Co-star!" With all the preparation of getting her brother ready...there have been no back-to-school shopping, or hair appointments, or much of anything for just "her." Help her to know that has little to do with her worth....and more to do with her momma's budget! :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Place favor on her, Lord. As she walks the halls of BHS without the chance of bumping into her brother. As she begins her Junior year, Lord, allow her to continue to practice kindness with her friends, and to nurture her important relationships. Let us turn the emptiness in the bedroom across the hallway, and the ride to school, and empty chair at the dinner table....to a newfound joy in our family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And Lord, I ask that you keep my babies safe. You have entrusted me with their care. I now hand them over to you.....for I know you are already there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PS....Say hi to my momma.....and scoot over to give her a front row seat! I know that lady is super proud of these two! :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In your Son's precious name,</span></div>
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-79006722259000595612015-08-10T20:47:00.001-07:002015-08-11T04:21:23.131-07:00Happy TearsI know I'm not the first to send her child off to college. And I certainly won't be the last. My Sam made me a mom. Throughout all of my life's twists and turns, ups and downs, victories, mistakes, even sickness and health..I've had one constant....my Sam and Sydney Clare. The three of us have always been a team...made decisions as a team and have been best friends. This child and his sister, have endured so much in his 18 years of life....starting with his first assisted breath...much more than most his age. Deaths, divorce, my illness. The thing is? You would never know it. He is the happiest kid. He shines his light to all he meets. Always smiling. Always kind. He has literally been a source of joy every single day since he was born. Without fail. <div><br></div><div>He looks to God. He is a self-proclaimed "momma's boy" and my favorite man on this earth. He is a gentleman. And real. And incredibly sweet. And while I feel like Conway is so far away. I know he will be just fine. I want him to enjoy every second of his new home, his new friends, his new teachers, his new team, and his new coaches. I don't want him home often, because I want him to enjoy these best years of his life. I am giddy watching this kid chase his dreams. Sam has, at times, been the underdog. The overlooked. Never been the one who got special treatment or ahead because of any reason other than hard work. This kid is everything I wish I was. And more. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm not afraid of losing him. He has always made his relationship with me a priority. I remember in Pre-school, when I arrived to pick him up each day....he would be playing. When he noticed me there, he would run full speed to me, so happy to see his momma. To this day...he texts or calls when his feet hit the floor. Or when he gets out of practice or off work. He piles up next to me to talk, laugh and just enjoy time with me. He drops into my office almost daily just to visit. I know that our friendship won't change. We are best friends. He said to me not long ago, " of course, I'll come back! You're my momma!!" You know what? I believe him! </div><div><br></div><div>I can't wait to hear about his days, still. For him to bring home his laundry, or call for gas money. I can't wait to meet his new friends, hear about his classes, watch his new team, and proof his papers. I can't wait to meet a new "someone special" because there is bound to be one. I'm excited to visit him in Conway as he finds a new church home. I realize that miles can't separate us, because we live in each other's hearts. </div><div><br></div><div>I watched tonight in Walmart....a heartfelt embrace between Sam and one of his former class and teammates that is leaving for the Navy tomorrow morning. I heard the words "love ya man" and "so proud for you" and "prayin for ya, bro" as they shared in under 5 minutes each other's future plans. They weren't hindered by being "macho men", the color of skin, or who was around. Just sincere, genuine, and REAL. As I went through the motions of the self-checkout, fighting back tears...it hit me that my Sam and his friend were going to be just fine. We...our little team and our village...have prepared him for this wonderful blessed opportunity before him. Yes, I will miss moments. I know our daily lives will change. But he loves me. This I know. </div><div><br></div><div>It's time for me to turn him over to our God, who I trust will love, carry, guide and protect him. And I trust that my Sam will continue to look to God while reaching for the stars. </div><div><br></div><div>My tears are not because I'm sad. And yes, the tears are plenty. It's because my cup runneth over. This love of my life gets to do this. And I get to continue watching. What a gift. Gosh, what an incredible gift. </div><div><br></div><div>Please join me in praying for my Sam. For our family as we find a new normal. For our friends who are going their separate paths. And their parents, like me, struggling to let go. Pray for this world to accept them, and let them continue making it a brighter place. Fly high, kiddos!</div><div><br></div><div>In Him,</div><div>Terri</div><div><br></div><div>1 Samuel 1:27 "For this child I prayed, and God granted what I asked of Him." </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-29010969956744450522015-07-28T14:10:00.001-07:002015-07-28T14:21:25.746-07:00Crazy College Momma....<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Something has happened. Yesterday, I was changing his diaper and today? I'm trying to make sure he is equipped to MOVE OUT OF MY HOUSE! My Sam will come home now...TO VISIT. Wait, what????<br /><br />My baby is no longer a Senior. But a Freshman. <br /><br />His "school supply list" just became the "dorm supply list". The other kids in his class just became the roommates who will live with my kid every single night and day. His teammates are strangers to us. <br /><br /><i>And don’t even get me started on the bills...and the fact that there are only THREE paydays until move-in day.</i><br /><br />Perhaps most challenging of it all, these are the last weeks before my baby flies the nest, and it’s quite possible I am experiencing a season of emotional meltdown that rivals postpartum depression.<br /><br />Here’s a checklist of symptoms in the event I'm not alone.. PLEASE, tell me I'm not alone.<br /><br />* You torment yourself by starting a mental countdown of the weeks and days until they leave (as if it’s an execution date or something).<br /><br />* Random things make you burst into tears: their childhood photos, their underwear in the bathroom floor, their dirty cereal bowl left on the counter…the first glance at their tuition bill.<br /><br />* You get super clingy and follow your kid around the house asking to hang out with them every waking moment of the day. <br /><br />* You find yourself lurking in the hallway of their bedroom watching them sleep.<br /><br />* You try to convince your boss that you need time off for Family Medical Leave because you’re paralyzed with grief thinking about your kid leaving for college. (They decline Family Medical Leave, so you ask if Bereavement Leave covers college departure. Because it should, <i>for reals.</i>)<br /><br />* Your nesting instinct goes into overdrive and you realize you’ve spent more on dorm room essentials than on an entire semester of college room & board.<br /><br />* You start planning visits and care packages before they’ve even left.<br /><br />* You are borderline ANGRY when his high school football team can even THINK about playing without him.<br /><br />* You offer heartfelt hugs in solidarity with random strangers in the check-out aisle at Target upon noticing that they, too, are a weepy-eyed mothers with carts full of color-coordinated hangers, room organizers, hand sanitizer, and obscene amounts of socks and underwear.<br /><br />* You consider a U-haul truck for the "tax free" weekend and 20% coupon will make it necessary for the loot from your upcoming trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond.<br /><br />* You "social media stalk" your kid’s college roommate trying to determine if there’s any possibility this space-sharing stranger could be a sex-crazed, kleptomaniac, nocturnal, meth-cooking psychopath with poor hygiene or bad study habits. Even further....you stalk their family. :/<br /><br />* You lose hours of beauty sleep each night while looking through decades of old photos—including ones from your own college days—and wonder how all of these glorious years went by so fast and you could possibly be this old.<br /><br /><i>And then you realize the age you somehow thought you still were is the age your kid has now become.</i><br /><br />And you begin to embrace the process of truly letting them go.<br /><br />After all–this season is not about your time that’s ending; it’s about their time that’s just beginning.<br /><br />So, dear parent–though it may feel like sending them off to college is the final curtain call of parenthood, I promise you that it’s not. In truth, your influence is perhaps going to become even more important during these upcoming years.<br /><br />Our children are entering into one of the most spiritually and personally formative times in their life, and they’re going to need our wisdom, support and love more than ever.<br /><br />And once they walk out that door for the real world, they’ll actually seek our advice instead of snarling at it. So grab the Kleenex, pack the boxes, pay the bills, and start planning for all of the ways to stay connected with them while our kids venture into this exciting time.<br /><br />And keep reminding yourself that for everyone, the best is yet to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, this is MY take on a silly list sent to me from a friend today. But its oh, so true. In all honesty....My God has answered prayers for my Sam. He is heading to a wonderful God-loving, Christ-centered environment. He has met the sweetest of friends. He doesn't have a scary roommate. I've reached out to his sweet mom, who may think I am psychotic! lol He will achieve his higher learning, loving the Lord, and playing baseball. His new coach said at our recent signing....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"There are a thousand churches and restaurants and colleges in this little town. Your child will get plenty to eat, a great education, and lots of Jesus!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SO! For the next 17 days.....yes. 1-7. As in 2 weeks and 3 days. I will complete our shopping list, our to-do list, work LOTS of overtime to try to finish fixing his truck so the little darling won't be walking, (donations accepted! ha) and try to teach him ANYTHING I may have forgotten. Makin my lists....and checkin them twice.....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will love on him. Encourage him. Pray for him. Enjoy him. And remind him to cherish every cotton-pickin moment. He doesn't know it...but its the best years of his life! My cup overflows....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But really...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not ready. I need another year. Please???</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Central Baptist College....Here come's my Sam! Take care of him!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9</i></b><br /><br /><br />In Him,<br /><br />Terri</span>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-68302147505990135532015-05-05T07:56:00.000-07:002015-05-05T11:11:08.518-07:00My "Baseball Peeps"<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tomorrow night is Sam's last baseball game at Panther Field. Senior night. This is it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still remember his first game at Panther Field. He was 14 years old. His division of the Wally Hall Tournament was played there that year....and he stepped on that field with his "Arkansas Cubs" team. I remember this field....looking at it in awe. It seemed to swallow them up. So big. I remember him so excited to dream of playing there. For all of his "baseball life" he dreamed of being a Benton Panther. All the travel, the money spent, the lessons, the time....being a "Panther" was the goal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember those games.....that "Coach B" was there watching. And when my Sam caught a ball....or made a play....or even struck out....I glanced to see if he was looking. IF Sam impressed him at all. Because, Sam SO MUCH wanted to be a Panther.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me go back though, and tell you what this game brought into our lives. Friends. Best friends. In fact, I have fellow baseball parents on my kids' "in case of emergency and you can't reach mom..." form at the school. Even further, one of them can sign for my medical records....at <i>all </i>of my many doctors.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have been through so much together. Death, divorce, illness, marriages, job changes, moves, and soon to be "births." :) At any given moment, I can pick up the phone and most likely have no less than 10 people I could call for help....for anything. <i>Anytime</i>. (Probably more.) We have shared a <i>world record</i> of laughs together. And almost as many tears. A few cuss words, <i>lots</i> of miles of across several states, quite a few hotels, so many meals, and friends.....TONS of prayer. I know these people genuinely celebrate our victories with us....and grieve our hurts. Each of us take it <i>personally</i>, when someone hurts one of "<i>us</i>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life has sometimes taken us in different directions....but there is a bond, and a love, that this group....<i>THIS family....</i>shares. My son (AND his little sister) share lots of mommas. And...thank<i> GOD</i>... lots of dads. No matter how much time passes, we have an understanding....a true loyalty....that few understand. We have raised these kiddos in the company of loving, Christian friends. And, <i>together</i>....we have survived all that life has thrown at us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I get it that few understand. I've written about my baseball family before.....but there just aren't words to express how I know without a shadow of a doubt that God's fingerprints were all OVER this group and our journey. Yes, we have lots of trophies under our belt....even a state championship....that I can remember like it was yesterday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> But, what I remember most? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is the times I received a text from a fellow parent that he saw Sam's pic in the paper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or to see if Sydney made the dance team. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or how they cheered for Sam in football (and they didn't even have a player out there.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How they held my hand through my illness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Showed up to clean my house, and took laundry home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How they took me to chemo....and sat outside the surgery door with me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How God placed me at a baseball game....the very day of my diagnosis. And they knew....before my own children knew. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How they circled in prayer and lifted me up, following a game. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How they showed up with orange slushies and "tator tot casseroles" because they knew it was a family fave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I found a bottle of nail polish in my mailbox, because I mentioned loving the color. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How a mom of all boys purchased a "first day of school" outfit for my Sydney....because they knew how important that was "to a girl."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When they snap pics of my child....and share them...because they are ALL our boys. Not just our own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That when <i>ANYONE </i>can say, "<i>Pray for me"</i>, and we KNOW that heads are bowed all over town.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When they pitched in and took my kiddos to and fro....when I wasn't able.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How two of the "little brothers" donated to us in lieu of gifts at their birthday party.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And how a "big brother" gave Sambo a ride to football....for weeks....because I wasn't able.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And when I'm late to a game...my phone sounds like a slot machine going off with all of texts coming in about an awesome play my Sam just made.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I see one of the boys....they hug me....and hang on for a minute, and say, "Hi momma"....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How any of them can spot in a "New York" minute....when I've had a bad day, or if my heart is hurting. They can ask, hug or just shoot me a "knowing look"....letting me know they love me. That they care.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the times I can't be there, and Sam needs a ride or a few bucks....he can ask anyone to spot him.....and they GENUINELY don't mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How one man's aunt....is EVERYONE's Aunt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How when I look across the church on Sunday morning....and meet eyes with most all of them....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the little "inside things"....like "hominy, hominy, hominy" are just a touch of the memories that this group has created just loving one another. Times we will all carry with us forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The moms, the dads, the boys, the little brothers/sisters.....the celebrations and victories, and the heartbreak and sadness. These men who have been such an inspiration in my son's life.....when he needed it so. They were more than coaches. It's all just a wrapped up in a beautiful little package that I know came straight from God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of our "family" are miles away. Some are across town at that "other school." :) Some have moved on to other sports. Some were ripped from us physically... but are forever a part of "US." Still others have been added to our fold. The "melting pot" of Panther Baseball. Either with us from the age of 7.....or just joining us this season....we all know who and where we are. And what we mean to each other. We won the game. For sure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I could write about our record. I could tell you all the accolades. I could even fill this page with sadness. But as I enter the gates of Panther Field tomorrow night for Senior night. The very field where my Sam <i>longed</i> to play since he was a little boy. I will remember the journey. Not the destination. For the <i>journey</i> was one of the greatest blessings our family has ever known.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll leave the post with a few of my favorite memories...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As these boys begin anew going separate directions....I know that our families will forever be connected from this little game. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Colossians 3:12-14 Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the love of the game,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Terri</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">SENIOR NIGHT LIGHTS</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There's nothing quite like a small southern town..<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">When family and friends all gather around.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Shouting and cheering and clapping their hands --<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hot dogs, and popcorn, and pure joy fill the stands.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tonight we as Panthers.... will walk in side by side.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We were Cubs, and Bobcats, and All-Stars abide.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A brother on my left and one on my right.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">You bet I'll protect him with my heart, soul, and might.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We learned as young boys how to catch and to hit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It’s all a part of the game, you see……that Panther Baseball
grit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We are “Linked by our Chains”…..which are hung by the
dugout door…<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A reminder to us that … (T)ogether (E)veryone (A)chieves
(M)ore!<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Because of this game, our hearts know true love…<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For Our brothers, our Coaches, and our Heavenly Father
above.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">They have led us and taught us, turned us boys into men.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We are playing tonight, knowing what is REALLY a
"win."<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our last night as Seniors, but forever Panthers stand
tall....<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And because our “ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING”….we know we won’t
fall.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We hope they'll never forget our Senior Team,<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our legacy, our faith - We're the "Class of '15!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Panthers forever...even when the last pitch is thrown.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It's a memory, a blessing, a feeling we all know.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So tonight as we walk out of the Panther Den to fight….<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Tempus Sans ITC'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Never EVER forget, boys....these "Senior Night
Lights."<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<i><span style="color: #632423; font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
- t. baker<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-47477762488819444972015-04-30T11:02:00.000-07:002015-04-30T11:35:44.034-07:00Hi Momma!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Hi Momma.<br /><br />I'm writing this letter to you at the end of the day. I'm pooped. I've spent the day at work, and the evening answering to the demands of your precious oldest 2 grandchildren. :)<br /><br />I see you chuckling in heaven as I'm living out all the things you did with us....and foresaw when you first held Sambo and Syd in your arms. It has been their little hands and hearts that have brought me to my knees. I have learned through their lives that there is always someone more important than myself. Serving them has left me tired and drained. Serving them has been the <i>best</i> thing I could do in my lifetime. Their lives remind me every day the things that you taught me..... that life is not about me, it is about loving others.<br /><br />They have no idea now, but those kids are teaching me to lean hard into the moments that shape my character, no matter how uncomfortable they are. They are teaching me that serving others around the clock is hard work. But it is turning my life into something beautiful.<br /><br />Before I had them I was told that children are a blessing. They were right, but I didn't understand what they meant. I thought children were a blessing because they were fun and and really cute to carry around. Now I know that children are a blessing because they turn my eyes away from myself. Their lives have stolen my heart. My heart can’t beat for myself anymore. It beats for <i>them</i> from morning to night, and all through the night. When they are in pain or when they have to work extra hard, I feel what <i>they</i> feel. When their feelings are hurt, my heart breaks with them. When they experience something new and scream with excitement, I am cheering right along side of them. Just like <i>you did.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sam is about to graduate. Oh, how I miss you. I know you would be in the middle of this and so proudly among each moment. He has chosen his school....Central Baptist College. And playing baseball for Coach Brister. I think you may have heard of him :) God has His arms holding our Sam....and has guided every moment....every decision. While I'm sad that my baby is growing...I'm at peace with his future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Syd is searching for her first job. And just was just chosen as a Pepstepper again for her <i>Junior </i>year. And <i>driving. </i>This child is a mess. Kinda like <i>your</i> daughter. But everything I wasn't. She is organized and honest and driven and loyal. She is my best friend. Hands down. So much fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I am celebrating the greatness not only being their mom....but of being <i>your daughter. </i>I don’t want to be honored for the things I have done. I want to honor the One who hasn’t given up on me. Just like you said He wouldn't. When I slammed my fists and threw fits, and strayed from him, He held me close. He has forgiven me. I want to honor God for the work He has done in my life. My beautiful children are a blessing because they bring me joy and point me to the One who will never give up on me. They point me to the one who is making me great!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was listing all the upcoming dates surrounding graduation festivities, and can't help but miss you more than normal. But I know you're there momma. For Mamaw Patsy wouldn't miss a <i>thing!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">XOXO,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Terri</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PS....In honor of graduation in the air....this wasn't so long ago! <3</span><br />
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-55403513201164889742015-04-29T12:20:00.001-07:002015-04-29T12:36:36.969-07:00To My Graduate...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sam informed me that his days left in school are now in the "single digits." How the days are fleeting. Leaving me quicker. All of the events surrounding the graduation of my son and his class are so wonderful. Prom, Senior games, Senior Sunday coming up at church, Senior brunches, Senior breakfasts, Grad announcements, Senior Awards, Scholarship opportunities, just the mere fact that they are out of school weeks before the rest of the classes, and of course graduation. I am so very proud of him. I'm proud of them all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I catch myself just sitting alone often. In a quiet room, with no television, radio or other distractions. I've been just thinking back on Sam and his childhood. How he when I would pick him up from daycare....he would spot me from across the room and just make a beeline for me with the biggest grin. No matter what kind of day I had...he was always happy to see me. Fast forward to the equivalent today. Every afternoon, I can expect a phone call when he reaches his vehicle after practice. Everyday. "What ya doin?" "Where are ya?" He will always drop by the office to see me (and not always to get money! haha) or when he comes in from "wherever" in the evenings....he will lay across the foot of my bed and chat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cherish these moments. I pray that I will still get those calls next year. Telling me about practice...and his day. I'm watching this child....MY child....defeat so many odds and living out his dreams. One by one by one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wrote a letter to Sam on his 18th birthday. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to share again, for on the cusp of his graduation, my thoughts and dreams and prayers for him.....have never changed. I pray I've done my job. And that either because of me...or in SPITE of me, this child is going to be a bright spot in this world. He might even just change it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm thinking I can most likely speak to the entire Class of '15....from your mommas. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>To my Sam...My graduate....<br /><br />You knew it was coming. :) First of all, let me say that I do not mean to embarrass you with this; however, I do believe that it is a mother's prerogative to allow her emotions to overwhelm her at certain points of her life. The opportunity to begin the next chapter of your life as you enter into adult-hood is one of them. It is because this means that my chapter as your mother is going to begin changing as well. So be patient with me, because if I’m crying while writing this, I will most certainly be crying as you read it. A mother’s love knows no bounds and neither does her sadness and trepidation as her first born son moves onto the next phase of his life, without her holding his hand every step of the way.<br /><br />I’ve been thinking about how we have sort of grown up together. I wasn't a parent before you came along and so I've had to do most of my learning, and failing, with you. When you were born, I was scared to death. I was only 25 and had no clue how to be a parent. Until that baby is in your arms, you can’t quite fathom the panic that sets in with all the responsibility looming ahead of you, but at the same time, you experience this unimaginable joy and love. Unconditional love… from the first look in your eyes and the first time your little fist wrapped around my finger. I was instantly in love with you. I remember standing for hours by your crib, just looking at you. I remember all the fear and down-right CRAZE I felt when we never knew if you would breathe on your own...let alone jump, and run, and catch footballs on Friday night! :) I was in awe that such a precious, perfect little baby was mine. Yes, despite your respiratory issues, you were perfect. I was so in love that I would just cry sometimes as I held you. Some nights I would get up just to hold you while you slept. I felt like I was the luckiest mom alive to have you for my son.<br /><br />I remember you with your trach. How I never heard your little cry until you were over a year old. How you would sneeze and the filter would fly across the room. (Once into the baked beans at a church potluck! haha) I remember the fear of letting anyone NEAR you. You don't know this, but the whole community, our church, our friends and family....prayed for you so much. You were a little super star when you came home! So loved. Always. So very loved.<br /><br />Parenting you has been the ride of a lifetime. I wouldn’t trade it or give up a second I’ve spent with you, worrying about you, loving you, being your biggest fan. Always. It’s been 18 years of pure emotion: love, joy, worry, anger, frustration, terror. Sometimes the emotion isn’t even mine, but yours. When you’re excited, happy or, worse, heartbroken, I feel those things, too. Ever since you were born, I worried and wondered about whether or not I was being the best parent I could be. Did I make you feel important? Did we find enough time for the little things that live on in happy memories - like laughter, and hugs, and "just-between-us" moments? Did I show you enough that you mean the world to me? And, more importantly, did you always know I loved you, even when I was angry at you? I hope I’ve given you enough and made you feel loved, cherished and important.<br /><br />Sometimes I just stare at you when you aren’t paying attention… and sometimes you catch me. :) Why do I do that, you wonder? There are lots of reasons. I'm staring because it amazes me that someone as handsome, funny, loving and smart as you ever came out of me. You have the sweetest, most gentle spirit of anyone I've ever met. So UNlike me! lol I think, how did I get so lucky?! I'm staring at you with hope, because I know that you're sensitive and sometimes a clueless, naive kid…and because I know that the world you're moving into can be unpredictable and cruel at times. I just hope that I’ve given you enough ‘tools’ to make it in this world without too much difficulty. The biggest reason I'm staring is because I know that our time together is short and growing shorter by the day. The day is coming soon when I'll no longer be a part of your everyday life. There will be college and work, a lucky girl who steals your heart, and some career that keeps you busy. So knowing that my opportunities to teach and influence you will soon slow down to only the occasional Sunday dinners and holidays, makes me sad. You're my friend! I love our time that we just hang out, watch stupid tv, and talk. I know that my moments with you are numbered.<br /><br />I will most likely share this with you on your graduation day. Which is only a few short months away. Although the days between now and then are few, they are full of importance. So many decisions. By then you will know the outcome of the Panthers season. Both football and baseball. Will you be wearing a state championship ring....or maybe 2? You will know where you will be spending the next four years of your life. And most likely how we will pay for it. You will be preparing for your last summer at home, with few commitments. All of the worries and "what ifs" that we are experiencing now will be answered. Enjoy every moment, son. And please be gracious. God is carrying us. And He will reveal opportunities to you each day between now and then. So be gracious. <br /><br />I find myself frantically wondering if I've covered all the bases, told you all the things I wanted you to know…and wondering, too, if you ever truly listened. I hope you did. Ultimately, you are responsible for your own life. It’s a scary concept, isn’t it? Your happiness, your fortune, and your emotional well-being all essentially belong to you to control and steer. At this point we are still holding your hand and we expect to do so to some extent for some time. (Don’t worry – you aren’t going to come home to find all your stuff on the lawn. Yet. :)) I know you aren't sure what you want to do with your life yet, but I have no doubts that you can do anything you set out to do. And well. That’s why college would be good for you, it will allow you a little more time to figure it out and decide, while still having the safety of your family. It will allow you to ‘find yourself’ in a way working in the world, just won’t. It allows you to put off the responsibilities of being an adult, out on your own, for just awhile longer. Now is the time for you to figure out who you want to become and where you want to go in life. I am nervous for you, but at the same time glowing with pride about the young man that you have grown to be. <br /><br />I'm sorry for any heartache and "bad cards" you may have been dealt at the hand of my mistakes. I'm sorry you haven't always had a daily father. One on the fields to teach you. I'm sorry that we can't always have the best of what I wish I could have given to you. I'm sorry that you haven't always had family and support watching from the stands. It's mostly just the three of us rooting you on. Thank you for never letting it matter. For never showing me an ounce of disappointment. I'm sorry that you have had to face "grown up" issues while being a child: divorce, financial issues, illness, and death. Thank you for always stepping up and facing issues WITH me and being such a soldier for Christ. For thriving sometimes...not because of me...but in SPITE of me. Thank you for ALWAYS respecting my rules and authority. I can honestly say, I've never worried or questioned you. Thank you, Sam, for your honesty. Thank you for loving me. And for always knowing that I did my very best by you. And telling me often. <br /><br />Today you become a man.<br /><br />At least you are the legal age of maturity according to our society. You can fight for our country...but can't drink in it. Remember that! :) But becoming a man is more than reaching a milestone. It’s a process that began on that day eighteen years ago when you took your first assisted breath and will continue until that time in the future when you take your last. <br /><br />Being a man is not about accomplishments, athletic success, mechanical ability or financial assets. Being a man is more about character, compassion and courage. A man has character when he is a person of integrity who can be depended upon. How you act when not a soul is watching. A man has compassion when he not only cares for others, but demonstrates it by putting their best interests ahead of his own. A man has courage when he does what is right even when it's difficult. I believe you are a long way along this journey to becoming a man. You have learned so much already. You show so much promise. <br /><br />Here are some other tidbits that I want to make sure I tell you... (For you see...I've been taking notes in preparation for this day. A long, long time.)<br /><br />Remember who you are. Decide your values and what is important to you and live them out. Don’t be afraid to be an individual.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Listen more than you speak. You will learn more by paying attention to what others have to say, and people appreciate being heard.<br /><br />Be selfless. Let someone else have the nice chair, closer parking space or last slice. Look for simple ways to help others.<br /><br />Keep your promises. Doing what you say you will do is a rare thing in our world today. It is one of the easiest ways to stand apart.<br /><br />Be confident but stay humble. You can accomplish anything you put your mind to, so don’t doubt your abilities. On the other hand don’t think too highly of yourself. Humility is a wonderful trait. Remember Who gets the honor at the end of the day.<br /><br />There is no substitute for hard work. The process of working toward a goal is often as rewarding as the achievement itself.<br /><br />Intelligence and wisdom are not the same. Intelligence is the ability to learn. Wisdom is using knowledge and experience to make good choices. You can be both.<br /><br />Never stop learning. There’s a whole world to be explored beyond the classroom long after graduation.<br /><br />Embrace “IT”. Whatever life throws at you, embrace. Change, obstacles, accomplishments, difficulties, adventures, success, failure are all opportunities to grow. Enjoy the moment. <br /><br />Stay away from the bad things. You know right from wrong. Don't be swayed. Always be above reproach. Never give others the reason to question you. <br /><br />Reach higher. Your Mamaw Patsy always told me to dress, act, and work as if I had the position I aspired to be in. That is true in all of life. Show your superiors that you are worthy. <br /><br />Love outrageously! Be a man who is known by his affections and his actions. Value your family and forge friendships that last. Treat the woman that receives your heart like a princess. Be the man you would choose for your mom or your sister. I promise...nice guys don't ALWAYS finish last. <br /><br />Love Jesus. <br /><br />Live Jesus.<br /><br />Launch Jesus. Go out and show your love for Him just by being you.<br /><br />Pray. Everyday. Pray, son. <br /><br />These eighteen years you have been alive also happen to coincide with the best eighteen years of my life. That’s no coincidence. Your coming into this world has profoundly changed mine. No words can adequately describe my love, my pride and my hope for you. I am blessed to call you my son. And today I am also pleased to call you a man. <br /><br />While today you may curse the conviction behind my beliefs, and rolling your eyes that I shelter you, know it is this same determination that helped you learn to stand up for what’s important to you. While you’re frustrated by the lessons I have to teach, know that it’s taken twice the amount of time, heartache, and self-doubt to figure out how to teach it to you, when I could have easily been indifferent. While lately my strong will might seem to limit your choices, know it was this strength that helped me rock you to sleep every night you were sick or afraid , all while doing it on my own. My goal has always been that when you look back on your childhood, you have to know that your momma was there. Always. <br /><br />While some days you question my need to protect you, know that it is this fierce nature that ensured you were never alone and always safe. While sometimes you may wonder if I think about you when you’re not here, know that it feels like a physical part of my body is missing when my children are not with me. While right now you sometimes wish I would leave you alone, someday you’ll wish you had just one more day with me. While you become excited by the prospect of love in your life, know that it was the first moments of your life when you slept upon my chest that you first learned the meaning of unconditional love. Know that I pray everyday that God show me how to fill the gap between how to love, shelter, and protect you and trusting HIM. Thank you for being patient with me while I find it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I know its crazy to get a "love letter" from your mom. Cheesy...I know. But know by now, you will have words written about ya, and a camera in your face. :) You are my favorite man in the entire world. I love you like no other. And that will never change.<br /><br />Follow your dreams. Never give up on something you desperately want. Ever. Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made in life. You are my first-born and I want great things for you. You are loved and all things good in my heart. When you hurt, I hurt. When you have joy, I have joy. Of all the things in my life that I might have, could have or should have done differently, there's one thing I'd never change, and that's having you for a son... If I didn't always find a way to say it, I hope I always showed it - I'm proud to be your momma and I love you with my heart and soul.<br /><br />Happy Graduation, My Sweet Sam. I love you…forever. (I love you for always...as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPSgs8xjVjsC_wuFceYXRx1QLRrnGfzgVkjXu4IuvVHJJusCo9De2zGrD87PJ7GUYOJvIwGTggrSEwYGg6z-qtRASNC_cG1uzSYoV5AqQ7e5K99nj1AqZhN65dpuU4lHOKjOvRLzMEvqv/s640/blogger-image-1129953745.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPSgs8xjVjsC_wuFceYXRx1QLRrnGfzgVkjXu4IuvVHJJusCo9De2zGrD87PJ7GUYOJvIwGTggrSEwYGg6z-qtRASNC_cG1uzSYoV5AqQ7e5K99nj1AqZhN65dpuU4lHOKjOvRLzMEvqv/s640/blogger-image-1129953745.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />"For this child, I prayed and the Lord answered my prayer." 1 SAMUEL 1:27 (Straight from the book of "Sam"....:)<br /><br />With a bushel, peck, and hug around the neck.<br /><br />XOXO,<br />Mom </i></span></div>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-15107539711701681072015-04-22T12:39:00.002-07:002015-04-22T12:46:46.206-07:00"Just put on a little lipstick..."<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mom was a wise gal. It's no secret how I feel about her as I've written before...many times. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Among the wisdom that she passed on to me are the following....(Keep in mind, most of them are "duh" pieces of advice that we shouldn't need to be reminded....but her reasoning was sometimes comical.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Always wear clean underwear that aren't ratty. "If you have a car wreck and have to go to the hospital, you will want nice panties on...." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(I'm sure I'm not the <i>ONLY</i> chick on the planet that worries about that when the laundry is piled up and you're down to those in the drawer that...well aren't your <i>first</i> choice! )</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Make your bed everyday. "An unmade bed makes the whole room look messy. Besides, ya never know when company may be comin'."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Don't lie to your parents. We know. (I won't go into that one....but trust me, the woman knew <i>everything.)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>- </i>Always iron your clothes before going out. Don't <i>even think</i> about going out in anything wrinkled. Just don't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These are just a few that come to mind. I could probably think of others and write for hours....but my favorite, that comes to mind today...."<i>Just put on a little lipstick....</i>"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tomorrow is the day. 3 years. It also happens to be the day I go back to the oncologist for my 4 mo. checkup. I will suffer a wealth of emotions. While deep inside, I've not suffered any symptoms of a recurrence....Cancer is sometimes a tad sneaky and can announce its presence in bloodwork or a scan or an xray. At any given checkup....I can walk out a different person than when I entered. Either relieved of a reaffirmation that I'm still "cancer free"....or....well....or the other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will come in contact with all of the "cancery" things....the smells, the ports, those who are in the midst of the fight. It's just hard y'all. And like every 4 months, I get anxious. And afraid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've written before about my "Cancerversary fears"... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here....<a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/03/survivornow-what.html" target="_blank">Survivor...Now what?</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And here....<a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/12/another-4-months_15.html" target="_blank">Another 4 months...</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not much in the way of the anxiety surrounding an oncology checkup has changed with me. And going on the day that just <i>happens</i> to me my anniversary date....of that day 3 years ago when it all began.....just seems almost <i>creepy. </i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prayer warriors, I ask you to pray for me. And for the kids. They always wait for a text from me...."just to make sure".....I've replayed over and over in my head, the scenario of what I will say to them if we don't get the "all clear?" For that is my worst fear. Also, Please pray in advance for all of those that will come across my path tomorrow. Those in the midst of the fight. Pray for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whenever we would be sad, or afraid, or anxious....Mom would always say, "Pray about it!....<i>Now, go put on some lipstick</i>!" As if to say, put on a smile, look pretty and never let 'em see ya sweat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So....in the spirit of mom's advice....If y'all will handle the prayers....I'll handle the lipstick!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Muah! :)</span><br />
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<i>"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7</i><br />
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In Him,<br />
Terri<br />
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PS -- I just published my 150th post. To those of you who have read them all....Thank you for still being my friend! :) I'm sorry! <3Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-70834594964467581582015-04-20T12:24:00.002-07:002015-04-20T12:24:36.043-07:00Back to the basics....Errr, I mean...Bible!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am officially deleting devotional apps! I think they are great resources, I think they’ve helped a lot of people (myself included) make sense of things in life, and I believe for the most part that those that write them are called to do so, to share their message. So why in the world would I give up on them? For a number of reasons actually, but mainly, I found they were hindering my spiritual growth.<br /><br />I may be crazy, and I may be offending many, but PLEASE let me explain. <br /><br />1. I was getting frustrated that I could only go as deep as Rick Warren did. Or Beth Moore. Or whoever wrote the "Jesus Calling" that day. My growth stopped where theirs stopped. I was framing my mind to think like them, to see the world and God how they did. My daily dose of “hang in there” was coming from Max Lucado, not from Jesus himself. Devotionals became where I turned each day to hear from God instead of the Bible, and so I wasn’t hearing from Him. I was going there for spiritual guidance and comfort, not directly to God.<br /><br />2. I was using it to cross “God Time” off my list. I don’t hate devotionals or discourage their use, but for me personally, since I was essentially reading them instead of the Bible, they were causing me to become weak in my faith and never sparked a greater thirst for Christ.<br /><br />3. It made me a lazy Christian. So much so that I didn’t even realize it until I stopped reading them. I was reading these without intention, getting that good feeling for a moment that I had done the “right thing”, patting myself on the back for my dedication, then forgetting what it was about almost immediately after. Once I realized I was doing this, I knew something had to change. <br /><br />4. Certain verses really stick out to us based on where we are at in our journey and what our circumstances are at the moment. That’s why the daily verses chosen for me that day in a devotional almost never “did the trick” for me. I realized this very quickly in my “no devotional” experiment. Verses that weren’t your typical ones picked for devotionals were suddenly hitting me very hard, convicting and refining me, and helping me where I was at. I’m not someone who hears a verse and can just take it to heart. “God says don’t fear? Uh, ok, I won’t!” Yeah, sorry, my brain just doesn’t work like that.<br /><br />5. I find them often to be quite cheesy. Ah, sorry, don’t get mad! I just am not someone who is comforted by platitudes and nice sayings. Two truths: God is good and life is tough. No I don’t need babied through it, I need truth, even if it’s hard to swallow or understand. I found devotionals always trying to wrap things up nicely, but that just wasn’t my life anymore since cancer. And I could not relate.<br /><br />6. Devotionals don’t always tackle the “tough stuff”. The Bible does.<br /><br />I knew I needed to try something else. So I did…<br /><br />I am now reading the Bible, regularly, in succession. Book by book. (New Testament and Psalms, I’m even reading through the OT...and making references to each.) And I’m reading with <i>intention</i>. This is the biggest and most important part, in my opinion. Every day I read to get something out of it, to feel the nudging of the Spirit, to hear directly what Jesus wants to say to me -with no middle man. Just connecting every day with my Savior. It’s been so beneficial in my spiritual journey and in how I relate to and see others, that’s why I felt compelled to share this.<br /><br />I’ve found that my time with the Lord has become so high quality. The closeness is tangible at times. I feel His leading and direction so much more now and I now yearn for my time with Him. Full disclosure here, I used to just make myself read devotionals and the little accompanying verses. I had to schedule it in, and a lot of times I’d let other things trump that time because, well, I didn’t really want to do it anyway, I just felt like I should. Oftentimes, I'd log on to Facebook or Twitter before or (gasp!) instead of my morning devo. But reading the Bible itself has changed that. I yearn for my time with God now, can’t wait to hear what He will have to say to me. It’s hard to even explain the change that has taken place within me, but I feel now like I’m hearing what God wants me to hear each day, not what someone else needed to hear that day and not what someone else felt they needed to share that day.<br /><br />My favorite outcome of this little boycott, is that I feel like I am gaining so much more of a bigger picture about God, who He is, how His heart is. I never gained any greater understanding of the Bible by just reading a verse out of Galatians one day, Ezekiel the next, and Psalms the next and the accompanying anecdotes for the day. I knew Jesus and had a personal relationship with Him, but never really got a big picture of everything as a whole. Now that I’m reading this way, I feel that I’m making connections I never did before, I’m gaining so much more understanding and reverence for God, and reading through John over and over has given me such a sense of Jesus’s heart.<br /><br />It’s hard to explain, and I sure hope I’m not coming across “preachy” or like I have it all figured out. Because that would be very incorrect. But I can honestly say, without hesitation, that this is <i>changing</i> my life! It seems so obvious right? Duh, read your Bible. But I had to get the other people out of my head first before I could fully let Jesus in and let Him have control. I’ve been doing this for just a few weeks now and have wanted to share this, but never felt like it was the right time until now. I hope this makes sense, maybe others can read devotions and read the Bible and not have any issues like I had. In fact, I’m sure that happens often.<br /><br />Again, devotionals are not bad or wrong. In fact, I love when someone reads one and thinks I could be helped or encouraged by it and shares it with me. I’m not anti-devotional, I just feel that I’m better off not relying on them, that’s all. My hunger is deeper. And my life needs <i>more.</i><br /><br />In this day and age where everything competes for our time and attention, if you only find a few minutes a day to spare to intentional time with God, may I humbly recommend trying this approach? If you feel how I felt before, I urge you to give it a try. I feel so much more open an available to His using now, hard to believe this is what made the difference. I can see you, my sweet little brother, reading this and saying, "I told you so...." :) <br /><br />Just one small change that changed my life.<br /><br />Please continue praying for me and mine....<br />In Him,</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Terri</span></div>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-44722670845497034342015-04-17T07:52:00.001-07:002015-04-17T07:58:44.242-07:00Prom Prayer.....Its been a minute since I've written.... <br />
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Well, let me rephrase....I've written often. It's just been a minute since I've posted for the world to see. You can all pick up your mouths, as little of a filter that I have for most, yes....I DO have some private thoughts that I don't share with the cyber world. :) Been dealing with some heavy stuff...."Finding myself" would be society's way of describing my sabbatical. However, I feel like if I don't write my thoughts and try to gather them here...I just might implode...explode...or just both.<br />
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I'm just not cut out for this, y'all. This mother of teens thing. Actually, I love it. I thrive on it. I LIVE it. But, someone failed to tell me how my heart would RIPPED from my body at the thought of them growing up and leaving. My little boy....who followed me around in diapers, wet the bed until he was 7, who used to tell me he wanted to marry me when he grew up.....is going to prom in 2 days.....is in his last 2 weeks of high school......will graduate in a month......and leave for college in about 4 months. <br />
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My baby. My Sydney Clare.....just turned 16, got her first car.....and is about to complete her sophomore year in high school. Tomorrow, she is trying out for her JUNIOR year on the dance team.<br />
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Wait, what???? Just stop already. I think I might just die. Like, right here.<br />
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This week has been a whirlwind... .Pepstepper tryouts for Syd....I've written about THAT before....<br />
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Here: <a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2013/04/dance-mom.html">Dance Mom</a><br />
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and Here: <a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-list.html">The List</a><br />
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My sweet, darling daughter is about as pleasant as a thorn bush this week. <br />
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For Sam, Scholarship applications, essays, grad announcements, cap & gowns, Senior games......<br />
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We have also had three ballgames....and this weekend is prom. My little boy is going to his Senior prom. The tux, the party bus, the prom tickets, the flowers, the dinner, the "grand gesture" for the "promposal". I just THOUGHT that boys had it cheaper. I'm broke and worn out. And can't wait to get behind that camera on Saturday night! :)<br />
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What I really want to do is give him an 11:00 curfew and not let him out of my sight. God, please, please watch over these babies. Walk beside each and every one of them. While I want to be excited for them to make these memories and celebrate their graduation, I'm terrified as only a mother can be....in the very depths of my soul and in the pit of my stomach. I trust my Sam. With every ounce of my being. I do. But that doesn't mean I don't want to protect him and his future. And that of his friends.<br />
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I heard the other day an analogy that fits my fears as a mother. "A ship is always safe in the harbor. But that is not what the ship was built for.....to stay in the harbor." How true. I've done my job. In fact, I want to be JUST like my children, when I grow up. :) It is time to let them sail.....To let them SOAR! <br />
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Why does it hurt so much? I may just follow him to CBC. Yes, that is what I'll do. I can just tell myself that to make me feel better for today....shhhhhh, its our secret.<br />
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But today, as my kiddos have so much on their plate in the next couple of days.....Pray with me the following:<br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">The Lord's PROM Prayer</b><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be your name....</b><br />
<i>God, you are holy in all that you do and in all that you are. Help us to see and live in light of your holiness. I pray for the many students who will be celebrating with their friends at prom this weekend. I pray that as they enjoy the gracious gifts of friendship, laughter, beauty, and dance that they would do so with a renewed understanding of your holiness. Help them to see that you have called them to be holy as you are holy. Give them the grace, boldness, wisdom, and conviction to honor you in all that they do while at prom.</i><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven... </b><br />
<i>Father, your will for our lives and for all things is not just for your glory but for our good. May you show these students that life lived within your design is not just what is best for us, it is what is most joyful. May their wills be conformed to yours as they make decisions about who they ask, what they wear, what they say, how they dance, and where they go afterwards.</i><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Give us this day our daily bread...</b><br />
<i>You are a good and gracious Father and you love providing your children with good gifts. Help them to see the goodness of prom and how it truly can be a gracious gift from you. May they receive and enjoy this gift in a way that honors the giver.</i><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">And forgive us our trespasses....as we forgive those who trespass against us...</b><br />
<i>Lord, I know these young men and women aren't perfect. Help them to trust and treasure the truth that while their sin may reach far, your grace reaches further. May they see that there is nothing they could do at prom that would disqualify them from being called your beloved child. Help them to live freely and faithfully in light of your limitless grace and forgiveness.</i><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...</b><br />
<i>Father, you are well aware of the many temptations that arise during these festivities. I ask that you would protect these children from the temptations they face. Temptations of vanity, greed, jealousy, lust, drunkenness, and most of all, disregard for you. Keep them safe and deliver them from evil by giving them hearts that love you fully, minds that think of you deeply, and lives that follow you faithfully. </i><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">For thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory forever and ever...</b><br />
<i>Lord, may you show them that while you are the God of the universe you are still the God of their prom. May they seek to honor, glorify, and worship you during this time. I pray this in the name of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen! - </i><br />
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For my Sam and my Sydney Clare.....I love you. Sail, Soar, SHINE! <3<br />
In Him,<br />
Mom</div>
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-38289230642207080762014-12-30T09:14:00.002-08:002014-12-30T09:20:46.269-08:00Un-Perfect ChristmasWell, we’ve survived Christmas! Now just a few more long days of the holiday break to go… Stay strong, fellow moms of teens! The holidays are abundant with opportunities for disappointing moments, meals, and potentially humiliating gift exchanges. Childhood magic-related <i>epic fails</i> abound. Did you have any epically disappointing moments this holiday season? Often, we’re too ashamed to admit it. Our deeply ingrained standards for perfection brought forth from our perfect parents and grandparents bring out all kinds of blatantly obvious guilt when we acknowledge the admittedly ridiculous pressure we put on ourselves and our ridiculously spoiled children this time of year. As parents, we all want to "hit it out of the park" each year.<br />
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Oftentimes, I sit on my bed and hear the “discussion of differences” going on around me….fighting over which movie to see, what to spend gift cards on, who ate all the Doritos that we just bought last night, or what restaurant to drive through. Who has used “who’s” itunes account, and who stole who’s iphone charger. Iphone 5’s by the way….which until a couple of months ago, was the “latest and greateast”….now is old and needs to be replaced with the coveted “6.” <br />
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Don’t get me wrong. I’ve taught them well. We all love and want nice things. The secret is….do we appreciate what we work so hard to have? My kiddos are a <i>tad</i> spoiled. And I’m not alone.<br />
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What was it, my first day on the job? Rookie mistake. When the times come…and often, when I have a 15-year old pouting because I can’t buy this or that…or my 18 year old ticked because we chose something other than HIS choice….I’ll be honest: When my kids sulk about something that is clearly a First World Problem, it kind of pushes my buttons. I struggle to find a meaningful way to teach my children to genuinely practice gratitude while still respecting the fact that at this age, their disappointments are very real.<br />
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Out in the hallway, one of my perfectly behaved children apparently whacked the other one on the head with something. At 18 and 15 years old, they generally get along together remarkably well, but this was an off day. Accusations, protests and wails echoed beyond the bedroom door. I sighed. “I don’t feel like they deserve to go anywhere or have anything right now,” I confessed myself. “What a couple of ingrates.”<br />
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We’ve all had those days. The kids are fighting. They don’t seem to appreciate the extras you gave them. And the EXTRA you have to do to be able to give to them. They’re rude. They forget their manners. Does it make them monsters or you a bad parent? Despite what many would say while wagging a finger, <i>No. It does not.</i><br />
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But it does indicate a very real phenomenon that many of us are unprepared for when we transition to parenthood. Parenting sometimes sucks. Sure, we knew it would be hard. (I can already hear the haters now: “You should’ve known it would be hard! Why did you even have kids?” Thanks for that. Really.) We knew we would be tired and that raising kids would be a lot of work. But it goes beyond that. Sometimes, it really actually <i>suuuuuucks</i>. And here’s the funny thing: While it aggravates me when my kids handle their disappointments like a pair of enraged gorillas on crack, I have to admit that I, too, have a problem handing disappointment.<br />
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I had been looking forward to Christmas. When my kids had moments of bickering, complaining and wreaking havoc, I was disappointed. I wanted a magical week — the one you see flashing through your Facebook newsfeed. The snapshots of beaming parents and giggling children making memories. I didn’t want whiny, ungrateful kids who had, wait for it… <i>ruined</i> MY day. Then I remembered….they were bickering trying to figure out <i>how</i> to please <i>everyone</i>. They wanted to be with me…and my family. They wanted to see their dad…and his family. Sadly…Christmas Day isn’t longer because we <i>need</i> it to be. And ultimately….I put them in this situation…their dad & I. Try swallowing THAT pill.<br />
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Nothing brings out the possibilities for disappointment like the holiday season. The meltdown of stress; the parties; the indignation at being forbidden to eat forty-eleven Christmas cookies in one sitting; the Christmas list that there is no WAY you can afford and here you are, just wanting to make some dang holiday magic with your kids, and the “spirit of compromise” totally ruins it. What is wrong with these people? It’s like I morphed into Clark W. Griswold and everything is going wrong, and I threw a good old-fashioned “Terri Tantrum” which later left me feeling guilty.<br />
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So, what are parents supposed to do during the disappointing moments? I think first of all, we need to stop judging ourselves for feeling let down. Just like we need to stop judging our kids for melting down for ridiculous reasons. Let them mumble and gripe and complain over the sheer hell of not being allowed to do this or that or have this or that. And let yourself feel bummed out when you need to. You’re only human. You’ll move on, of course. Maybe you’ll even laugh about it later.<br />
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I feel so much guilt for not savoring every minute. Every time we dare to admit that we’d really been looking forward to something — a vacation, a birthday party, a simple lazy day — and our kids’ behavior was atrocious, somebody pops up to remind us that there are plenty of people who would do anything to have kids and we should just shut up. And that works about as well as when we tell our kids that there are starving children in Africa who would have been thrilled to have that measly one cookie that was apparently inadequate. It doesn’t work. Because shaming doesn’t work.<br />
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So let’s stop shaming ourselves for feeling disappointed sometimes. This Christmas, I made them happy. My Sam came to me and told me that I always “worry too much” and it always “turns out perfect.” And I want to tell you that as I dropped them off with their dad (at 10 am Christmas Day <i>instead</i> of 4 pm) that I felt their love. I felt their appreciation for the memories we had made in the short few minutes of Christmas. I hugged them both…and THEY held on for a minute. I want to tell you that my heart felt full, close to bursting. It was one of those crazy gratitude moments.<br />
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For you see, Christ blessed us this Christmas. They love me so much. Almost as much as I love them. They text, call, and can’t wait to share their lives with me. No matter where they lay their head at night. They know Jesus. They have giving hearts. And sweet spirits. We are not perfect. Our circumstances are not perfect. But we are perfect <i>together</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTBzwUMWYl1K_su25JkqPW0lSGeTa0JaMnEer-4JAd5vIwRtZ2KyFtzmj9vb-cApxeTvxI7KnZDIy-O9tHvuoVbADMYqXfdOChkOCGcxWm96UGc23dICiGpBfM6PEqVMq8CDUvpl1McX_/s1600/boggins.jpg"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTBzwUMWYl1K_su25JkqPW0lSGeTa0JaMnEer-4JAd5vIwRtZ2KyFtzmj9vb-cApxeTvxI7KnZDIy-O9tHvuoVbADMYqXfdOChkOCGcxWm96UGc23dICiGpBfM6PEqVMq8CDUvpl1McX_/s1600/boggins.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Christmas 2014 is in the books. Happy Birthday to my Lord and Savior....Who blesses us each day. Because of Him....I don't <i>have</i> to be perfect. MY imperfections are there to remind me to come back to Him....The reason for <i>this</i> season.<br />
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In Him,<br />
Terri
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-RTQkgnHlmmQ%2FVKLZ5qefNrI%2FAAAAAAAAGgA%2Fbkp6gZn5f5g%2Fs1600%2Fboggins.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTBzwUMWYl1K_su25JkqPW0lSGeTa0JaMnEer-4JAd5vIwRtZ2KyFtzmj9vb-cApxeTvxI7KnZDIy-O9tHvuoVbADMYqXfdOChkOCGcxWm96UGc23dICiGpBfM6PEqVMq8CDUvpl1McX_/s1600/boggins.jpg" -->Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-69691711969938196962014-12-22T09:40:00.002-08:002014-12-23T03:18:39.827-08:00Christmas 2014"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful." -- Norman Vincent Peale<br><br>I love this. Simply love it.<br><br>Growing up in a home run by a mom who made sure ALLL special days were just that...."special".....allowed for moments of great revelry. The hours spent with each other, sharing in the times at rest and at play, contain some of the best memories of my childhood. When I think of treasured moments that are ever present in my mind, I am reminded of the impressions of Christmases past. The moments filled with the season of wonder and joy. The decorating of the tree, writing letters to Santa, decorating cookies, searching for gifts that I NEVER could find, occasionally opening a package and taping it back because the curiosity KILLED me (and once finding a note that simply read "Gotcha!"....true story....my mom was smart!), constructing the handcrafted gifts for those most loved, always taking the "scenic route" home from anywhere just to look at Christmas lights, and attending midnight candlelight service on Christmas Eve.<br><br>My kiddos have experienced much of these traditions....complete with gingerbread houses, Christmas decor, surprises and smiles. Oh... and Jesus. Lots of Jesus. I miss mom. For when she was alive, it was a time for our family to gather and create new memories to hold dear to our hearts. In recalling past holidays, three words come to mind: faith, hope and love. The faith that there was God who sent His Savior to watch over us each and every day. The hope of a better today and the tomorrows still to come. The love of family and good friends celebrating and breaking bread as one. Mom and her special touches made us remember the magic of Christmas. These three emotions were the reasons that this particular time of year filled my heart with such magic.<br><br><br>It hit me....that it is up to me now. For my kiddos to know the magic. I admit that I'm sometimes wallowed with financial stresses, time management, and pure exhaustion during the holidays. I've told them more than once, after review of the Christmas lists....and even further review of the budget....that I may not be able to be as "magical" as years past. Both children, more than once, have told me... "you always say that mom, every year...and its always perfect." That is the good stuff. Our little family is pretty special. <br><br>I miss that lady. For when she was alive...the miles did not matter. Christmas was about our family. And somehow, we always made the effort to see everyone....and we seemed to always fit it all in. I've had a hard time with the changes. Read as....this has broken my heart. This year....I'm going to somehow make it happen. Just like she did. Just like she would. Just like she would want. I'm going to wake up Christmas morning with my Mamaw. And my kids will feel a little bit of her "magic." I can only pray that my whole family will one day be together again. For they are in my heart.<br><br>We never know when our last Christmas would be. We didn't know that our last Christmas with mom would be our last. I still remember the pain of the first one without her....as we sat around my living room and cried tears of bitter sweet emotion. Life is too short to let one day go by without a blanket of "softer and more beautiful."<br><br>I am now mindful of what Christmas meant then and what it means in the present day. In my youth, one filled with the excitement of the Spirit of Santa, Christmas carried an important meaning. I comprehended an air of great consequence because everyone seemed to be a bit kinder and more caring. The heartfelt sentiment still remains for me. With many days now gone by, the emotions attached to this special time have grown to include a kaleidoscope of faith, hope and love. A hope for a new beginning and a time of renewal, not only in a sense of religious traditions, but in those rooted to the spirituality of my soul. A soul that has come full-circle in its understanding of what Christmas means to me. <br><br>In this lifetime, I have learned that Christmas magic is powerful, but the power in our hearts is even more magical. Our ability to love one another, to renew our faith and bring hope into our lives and the lives of others, are the greatest of gifts to bestow and receive. Christmas is indeed a time for sharing in gift giving and celebrating, too. And yet, the greatest gifts are not those wrapped in fine papers or dressed in colorful bows. They are those given with an open heart, one wrapped in the lovely ribbons of faith, hope, and love. I've also learned that "Family" isn't defined by blood and a given name. It is those you do life with. Who love you through it. Who are there and make you relevant. Friends are angels sent straight from heaven....and they are my family....when I can't have mine. Blessed, I am.<br><br>To quote Charles Dickens' classic tale, "A Christmas Carol," "I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year." Words of wisdom that should be echoed on this day and all the days yet to be.<br><br>Merry Christmas and Many Blessings to you.<br><br>In Him,<br>TerriTerrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-51767866452617874052014-12-17T07:22:00.002-08:002014-12-17T07:23:29.971-08:00Spider WomanThis is supposed to be my happy, cancer-free blog, but today, it's not. This is me trying not to panic anyone, because I don't want that. But I have a lump. It's hard, unmoving and about the size of ... well, in my mind, a bowling ball, but that's probably incorrect. You see, it's 4am and I've not been to sleep yet. I got about two hours of sleep last night and less the night before. There sits whole bottle of Benedryl on my bedside table. Enough for me to sleep through a hurricane. Duh, I should. But I hate taking medicine; I always feel sluggish the next day.<br /><br />Anyway... the lump. I've been feeling a tightening under my skin in my chest area the last few weeks and I figured it was just scar tissue. Everything feels numb....but then not really numb. It's weird. But kinda painful. After researching mastectomy scar tissue online...(Yes, I know...Dr. Google, the expert) I worry that it may not be scar tissue. It's been 2 years since my mastectomy...there shouldn't be any new scar tissue forming. Ok, so what is it? I don't know. Then, I lay here for hours poking and prodding my chest, underarms, etc., and I wonder if its just my mind playing tricks on me. I've not breathed a word to anyone. That makes it real. Or makes me "real crazy." <br /><br />Let me see if i can describe what is going on in my head... Try to imagine walking through the jungle and believing there are spiders everywhere. Now even if you're not scared of spiders, you've been told there's a chance one is going to jump out and bite you. You've been bitten before and you know how painful it is. How that tiny little bite changes everything about you and your life. You know that if you get bitten again what happens to your life - you create a domino effect - it's almost as if that spider's poison is passed on from one person to the next. Oh, and not just any people either! Heavens, no. Your spider bite affects the lives of all the people you love. You need to keep walking, but you are jumpy and fretting the whole time. Right now I'm frozen in one place, because I'm too scared to keep going.<br /><br />I'm quite certain that I'll see Dr. Sneed tomorrow morning..... He will poke around on me, tap on his computer, give me a hug, and pat me on the arm and send me home with a "trust me, it's nothing". And I'll be fine for another 3 months and 3 weeks until I have the spider dreams again. <br /><br /> See? There is no such thing as "cancer free." It lasts forever. <br /><br /><div>
Please be in prayer for any and all touched by these "spiders".....for that is pretty much everyone.<br />I. hate. cancer. Lord, please, I beg you....send us a cure. <br /><br />In Him,<br />Terri</div>
Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-15385493674693297422014-12-15T12:30:00.001-08:002014-12-15T12:38:16.490-08:00Another 4 MonthsI live in 4 month increments. And this week marks the time when I can either buy a few more....or my life changes forever....again. My Oncology checkup is this week. <br />
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I try hard not to talk about "the cancer." Because as much as those around me are sick of hearing it....I'm certainly sick of living it. One week every four months....I'm declaring that I get to not just be scared. But I get to be scared...and say I'm scared. I know whoever is reading this may not understand. And God bless the ones who do, because you have most likely lived it. For that, I pray for you.<br />
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I'm still struggling with survivor-ship. It's the most lonely place in the world. I get the occasional punch in the arm along with "you're just fine....you beat this!" I get the pep talks of how I'm "Cancer-free" from all those who love me and walked the battle with me. I see the occasional eye-rolls if I dare to bring up my fears...and then the quick "subject change"....I see it all. And I live with it. Because, I know they mean well. They don't understand. They don't get it. And that's ok. Nobody has the right words...because there really are none.<br />
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I've received a couple of unexpected phone calls from a close friend lately. I've been placed heavy on her heart and it's forced me to look at other areas of my health and ask questions. To be proactive. To be educated. And to not stop. This friend understands my fears. And lets me cry. Cries with me. And lets me worry. And prays with me and for me. <br />
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In true form, I have began my ritual of googling, and trolling the message boards which never do anything to calm me. Instead, I can have death sentence in about 2.5 seconds. Still....I worry. <br />
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This one stuck out for me:<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Question: Since triple-negative breast cancer returns often, and to other vital organs such as the liver and lungs, how often and what testing should be done?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Expert: There is no data that routine testing impacts outcome. In other words, it is not helpful to obtain routine scans looking for recurrence. Scans should be done as needed based on symptoms, findings on blood tests or physical examination. Clearly, symptoms should not be ignored. However, finding metastases “early,” by scan alone, does not change survival from or treatment for this disease. Recurrence in other sites in the body is treatable but not curable regardless of when the disease is discovered.</span><br />
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Wait...what???<br />
It does no good to test?? There is no cure for metastatic cancer? Well, that just sucks. And puts a whole new spin on things friends. I feel like if I knew my exact chances of the cancer coming back, I could deal with it. But when I ask my doctor, he gives me a range of statistics over a number of years. I can’t live like this. I need more specifics. I'm a planner. I'm a control-freak. And This....is out of my control.<br />
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Yesterday I was feeling a little overwhelmed. There was so much noise, not from my kiddos, but the static of life in all it's glory, that I could not focus my attention on what mattered, or even figured out what it was that did matter.<br />
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I thought the problem was that I couldn't hear myself think. That it was just "that time again" and I'm not in control of what this appointment may or may not bring. I even let myself go there....even voice out loud...."If I get bad news, I will not even think of telling my kids until after Christmas." Crazy, I know. Well...not really. Not in the mind of a survivor.<br />
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I was ready to clear my plate of obligations. Instead of discernment, I was experiencing a little bit of "fight or flight" response. Fortunately, after some time, deep breathing, snuggles with the kiddos and prayer, I was able to refocus. The static was drowned out by the still, small voice as I listened to Him. I didn't need to hear myself. I was getting in my own way.<br />
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I like to repeat that quote, "Life is what happens when we're making other plans." There is another saying, "Man plans, God laughs." Sometimes my plans don't work out the way I expect or plan. Sometimes, I do think God has a tremendous sense of humor....and timing. Sometimes I do not understand God's plan, but often, if I give it enough time, I can see a purpose and His blessing, even in the "unanswered prayers" of my own spoiled plans.<br />
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I do not need to clear my plate to hear, I need to clear my soul and tame my prideful heart. I need to focus not on myself, but on God. I am slowly seeing His purpose for me. And I know He is not finished with me quite yet. (Philippians 1:6 tells me so.)<br />
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Last night, as I read Paul's letter to the Philippians, I came across this verse, "...Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13,14)<br />
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I will press on, focus on the future, not on myself and the noise I create in my own head, but listening for the still small voice that will direct me. I guess God can be the ultimate white noise, drowning out the nonsense and bringing peace.<br />
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I will always look at Christmas differently. Cancer forced me to slow down. To love and to love DEEPLY. In many ways, Cancer has sort of "directed" my entire adult life. First, when it attacked my mother....and then living through it myself. Test results....either way, will not change my purpose under God's direction. I know this. For all that it has taken from me....God has made sure that it replaced with blessings beyond belief. <br />
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With each passing day, each passing checkup, and each passing Christmas....I'm finding my peace. I know one day....I'll have it.....and it will be when my focus is truly and COMPLETELY on Him.<br />
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Find a survivor to love, friends. For they are everywhere....and they need you.<br />
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In Him,<br />
Terri<br />
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4027296969843683765.post-37802044663637103052014-12-11T09:13:00.000-08:002014-12-11T10:57:09.643-08:00To you Mommas: We moved! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leadership. Wow. For this girl, that's a scary word. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've written before about this powerful little group that I've had the honor to be a part of...the "Benton Panther Mom's Ministry"....This posting a few weeks ago, gives a "smidge" of what this group has done and what it means to me.</span><br />
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<a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/11/to-youmoms.html?spref=fb">http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/11/to-youmoms.html?spref=fb</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When that posting was written, I had no idea what "specialness" was to be in our future. For you see? God truly blessed our season....in every sense of the word.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We made to the end. To the 'ship! To the last game. We fought and we fought and we did it. This team made history. And I couldn't be prouder. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But this isn't about them. This is about a different group. This is about their mommas. Their fans. The ones that loved them through it all. Who prayed for them. Who lost sleep in worry. And who stood proudly for them at the end of the day. The moms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I wanted to do a sequel of sorts to the above posting....to "finish the story".....I've sat down repeatedly to write and have become overwhelmed with emotion. First....let me show ya the stuff:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To some....it may appear that this is exactly that...."stuff." A bracelet and a cross. You have to realize a couple of points here. First, we are not a booster club. We have no money. No budget. To do things for our boys took a lot of time and alot of money. Cards, printer ink, bracelets, candy, cookies, notes, envelopes, all of it....times 150. This small group did it! Each and every week....we did it! :) First....fall on your knees and thank HIM! Second, take your arm and reach around and pat yourselves on the back. We moved! (I'll explain that in a minute!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Secondly, when we hit playoff weeks, its extremely difficult to "plan ahead" so to be successful in all of our endeavors took a lot of work in a little time for our little group. Time and Money...Satan's little diversions didn't stop us, friends. Again, We moved!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Thanksgiving Day, it is estimated that we fed about 250-300 mouths that morning. Take a peek at that gallery here:</span><br />
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<a href="http://bentonpantherfootball.com/gallery/2014-family-thanksgiving/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://bentonpantherfootball.com/gallery/2014-family-thanksgiving/</a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wrote about that too....just in case you missed it. Such a powerful morning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/11/a-panther-thanksgiving.html">http://terricoxbaker.blogspot.com/2014/11/a-panther-thanksgiving.html</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">November 28: Benton vs. El Dorado.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We "Believed"....and fought our way to the Title Game.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we met to pray with the teams the day before we were to head to the championship, We presented each of them with a cross, engraved with their motto "family." As they read their notes and dawned their crosses, my hope is that they will remember this F.A.M.I.L.Y forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They learned that day, that each cross was handmade over a period of about 48 hours. When a sweet "angel" from Texas learned of our Panther story, she agreed to make it happen. And shared with us how as she made each one, she prayed over it and the child that would be wearing it. Wow. Just wow. 150 of these. Our Jane and our Touchdown Club, and our Community made this special gift possible. I choke up everytime I see one of them walk by with it nestled around their neck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've had so many come to me and thank me for "leading this group." My response has always been the same. No thank YOU! I'm SO thankful for a group that always says "yes"! That always digs deep....financially, with their time, and with their presence. I cannot help but think we have made a difference in a child's life. That we have MOVED.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Sept 2, I sent the text out to my "little group" of Panther Senior moms that I love so dearly. 5 of us that chat together daily. The text simply said....'What do y'all think about meeting each week to pray?" </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We got approval from the coaches and began spreading the word....and held our first meeting on the morning of the Salt Bowl a few days later. We have done so much in just a few short weeks. I was talking with my boss and friend about our little group yesterday and</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> immediately he called me a "lone nut!"</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I looked at him like he must have grown horns and </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he shared with me this video.....Its not long...but the point is SOOO worth it....</span></div>
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<a href="http://youtu.be/V74AxCqOTvg">http://youtu.be/V74AxCqOTvg</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For you see? He was right. I was simply the "lone nut".....:) Those of you who continued to say "yes"....are the leaders here. WE MOVED! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">God has proven that where HIS presence is....that His good works and love will simply shine. Of course, we don't have to take our shirts off and act like fools to start a "movement"....we just simply have to "say yes" and He will lead us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you moms and dads and friends, for it all. I will love you always...for the way we moved!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love in Him,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Terri</span></div>
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Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03517464132220146476noreply@blogger.com0