Tragedy Strikes Campus, God's People Cry Out

What? Parents Crying, Children Dying, A Nation Grieving

Where? Virginia, My Town, Your Town, Our Town

When? April 16, 2007, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

How? Evil overcomes the heart of one in a fallen world

Why? The evil seeks to devour and destroy.

Who? College students, faculty, his son, her daughter, your son, your daughter,

my son, my daughter...

His Grief

His Town

His Time

His Sons and Daughters

His Vengeance

His Amazing Love

May God be with the families who grieve the loss of their children today.

Our hearts are with you.

*photo courtesy of Associated Press

For Molly's Mom

Molly comes home today. Remember the time we talked and I told you I wouldn't give you any advice?

I lied.

So here goes...

Nothing will prepare you for Mommyhood. No book or manual or parenting class. Though they have good intentions, even our own mothers cannot prepare us for Mommyhood.

Since the day we told them, "You are going to be a grandma!" they have been there for us. They listened to us complain about morning sickness and rejoice at the first fluttering feelings of life growing inside our tummies. They saw us get bigger, and bigger, and bigger... and may I just say, they could have kept those observations to themselves? Ahem.

But, that's what they do. They're mothers.

Mothers are there when we go into labor- whether it is on time or surprisingly early. They try to tell their daughters about the pain. But, Oh. Sweet. Mercy. No one on God's green earth can prepare you for that.

Let me take a moment, on behalf of you and myself, to thank the inventor of the blessing from the pharmacy- the Epidural. Bless you, Ye Great Inventor of Numbing Gold. Bless you.

Okay. So no one, hard as they tried, prepared us for labor, but, somehow we made it through. The pain. The tears. The fear.

Because no one can prepare you for the love. The love a mother feels when she sees that tiny life God has given her. It is a love that you never knew before. A sweetness. A mystery. A miracle.

Nothing will prepare you for the quiet moments in the soft light as you hold your tiny baby to your heart. Nothing prepares you for the days you spend watching her sleep or play. The laundry and the dishes pile up and amazingly, you just don't care.

No one can warn you about the dangers of the world. No one will explain the fear you will feel when she is so sick and you just don't know what to do. Nothing prepares you for the fever that just won't break, or the arm that did, for the drive to the emergency room in the middle of the night, or the long, tearful prayers for healing.

No one can prepare you for the days, the nights, the years ahead. Your baby girl will go to sleep tonight a tiny, fragile expression of God's Love. Before you know it, one morning she'll wake up a toddler, refusing to eat. One day she'll be on her way to Kindergarten, then First Grade, and so on.

And one day, our little girls will call us to say, "Mom, you're going to be a grandma!"

We'll try to give them advice and they'll ignore us. We'll try to prepare them for what is ahead. The pain. The fear. The love. We'll try to prepare them for Mommyhood, but we won't be able to.

That's Okay. That's what we'll do. We're Mothers.

Just remind me not to tell them how big they're getting.

:>)

This is what I'm talkin' 'bout!

This afternoon I was talking to Mama and she told me about these really cute dolls she found. They are called Faith and Friends and are available at Family Christian Book Stores.

Here is one of them-

Orange You Cute Doll

Is she cute or what?

The idea is to encourage our little girls to express their fashion creativity in a modest way, while expressing their faith and learning about The One who created them. The dolls come with a small Bible and a journal. There are some really cute accessories and one of the dolls even has her own "blog."

If any of you have these for your little girls, leave a comment. I'd love to hear about them. For more info about these cute dolls, go here.

Kudos to the inventors of these cute little toys!

Stop Serving My Coffee Dressed Like That

Updated to Add- I do love all of the "mocha makers" out there. I want to show them the love. I just don't want to see everything while I am trying to eat or have a coffee. As my mother would say,"There's a time and a place for all things." I am not against anyone having piercings and tatoos (except my own daughter). I just think some things should remain covered in certain places of business.
Thanks, Denise, for your caring comments. They were very thoughtful and compassionate. I appreciate the chance to clarify. :>)

Hang on a minute. I need to clear my throat for this one...

'Kay.

So I was at my local coffee house this morning purchasing my liquid doughnut. Most of the time I go through the drive thru because I am dressed like well, a bum. But not immodestly. This lovely, lovely woman named "Betty" is usually there each morning and I look forward to seeing her at the drive thru window. She is friendly and bubbly and over the age of 3o.

Love her.

This morning I ordered my usual Venti Mocha and drove around to wait for my delightful blend of hot cocoa and caffeine. (Genius!) As "Betty" cheerfully greeted me and took my money I was not-so-cheerfully greeted by the flash of a tattoo and undergarments of the Mocha Maker.

Picture this. I am sitting in the drive thru- eye level to this young woman's backside. Her shirt is hiked up in the back and I can see her tattoo just above the edge of her waistline. If I had not turned away so quickly, I also could have read the brand name of her undergarments. I came to be awakened by espresso and sugar, not the tacky backside of a twenty-something tart.

Express yourself somewhere else.

When the delightful Betty started to hand me my coffee, I politely said to her, "Please tell that girl to pull up her pants."

Betty turned and saw what I was talking about and then she quietly slipped away out of sight. I am guessing she said something to a manager. She returned to the window with a smile, handed me my mocha and with a wink she said,"It's taken care of. I agree."

There is actually a point to this rant, which is this. I am going to start complaining to management when I enter a store and employees are scantily clad with piercings in places that shouldn't be pierced, tattoos inappropriately displayed and undergarments showing. Hello! That's why they are called undergarments. They go under clothing. They aren't the actual clothing itself.

Most of the time I just roll my eyes or walk away, but after this morning I've decided to speak up. It is up to the customers who enter these establishments to at least try to make a difference. I will always try to make my complaints known in a polite manner instead of what I really would like to do.

Like reach in the drive thru window and jerk that girl's britches up so hard that she would have suffered from an atomic wedgie.

But I held back. I was nice. Frank and honest, but nice.

It's just a good thing it happened before I had my mocha.

Let's Kick It Up A Notch!

I was just reading BooMama and she needs some information on how to contact Kate Spade.

Yes, Kate Spade.

I can't help The BooMa, although I would love to oblige. To tell you the truth, BooMama is so popular that I would think we would all be asking her for Kate's cell number so we could text message her. Or maybe Boo is just holding out on us, seeing as how she is so humble and all. That's why we love her.

She's BooMama.

So, if any of you out there reading this happen to know or think you know someone who may know Kate Spade or hey, maybe you are actually Kate Spade (yeah, right) head on over to BooMama's blog and fill her in on all the low down. (And Kate, if you are reading this, "What's up, my homegirl?")

Big Mama's drug post has put me in some sort of tragic gangsta mode...

Anywho.

I have to tell y'all about my most recent celeb encounter. I say most recent because there have been several in my life. One was years ago when my husband and I were in Dulles airport and we saw Prince.

Well, it wasn't actually Prince then. He was The Artist formerly known as Prince. He was really not even an artist; he was a symbol.

So we saw what appeared to be the symbol formerly known as Prince escorted by two very large scary looking bodyguards. (Not Kevin Costner) And our conversation went something like this:

Hubs- "Look! That guy thinks he's The Artist formerly known as Prince."
Me- "It is The Artist formerly known as Prince."
Hubs- "Uh-Uhhh!"
Me- "Yes Huh!"
Hubs- "Nuh-Uhhhh!"
Interrupted by passenger walking by as The Artist leaves our sight, "Yes. It was him. He was on my flight. They let him get off the plane early."

Add the fact that the symbol formerly known as The Artist formerly known as Prince was close enough to hear our entire conversation and you can imagine why it has been one of the funniest moments in our marriage.

Back to my most recent encounter.

I was in Target one afternoon looking SUPER FLY with no make-up, a top knot for a hairdo and sweats. Let me be specific- I was wearing this shirt:

Then I saw him. Emeril Lagasse. Yes, m'am. I did. He pushed his little red cart right next to my little red cart, but I think my little red cart had more stuff in it. By the time I realized it was him, he had vanished into the housewares department and I was standing there like a deer in headlights with a bewildered look on my face.

"Yes. It's him," another shopper said. Apparently she could read my bewildered look.
"I think it is. I heard him talk. He has a distinct voice," I said to her as she pushed her little red cart.

I didn't want to approach him and be all paparazzi or anything. And, let's face it. I was in Target looking fine in my sweatpants and "the shirt." What was I going to do? Run up to him and say, "BAM! Can I have your autograph?" What would the man think?

Who is this deranged woman with that horrible top knot and exactly what kind of novel is she writing?

So I decided to lay low and just stare from afar. Oh, you know you would have stared, too! I went to the check-out lanes with my own little red cart and watched as he unloaded his little red cart. Then he did the most amazing thing! He bought paper towels! IN BULK!

Who knew?

I am in the know when it comes to the paper product purchasing of the rich and famous. It's an untapped tabloid market these days.

The brand? Wouldn't you like to know... I like to keep some things a secret. That's what makes me so mysterious... and weird.

BAM!

Overheard at my house

While in the baby department at Target-

(In a low whisper) "Mommy, I saw a Royal Potty."

"A what?"

"A Royal Potty. Come see."

"Why are you whispering it? Because you didn't want to say potty?"

"Yes. Come see!"

Indeed it was a portable potty seat for a little one. And it was quite royal.

The Fisher Price Royal Potty Stepstool




While petting Maggie, the big-fat-cat.

"Maggie, I'll be nice to you... even though you're squishing my guts out."

Apparently, we are not in good hands.

After watching an Allstate car insurance commercial...

Hubs- "What's the deal with Stan?"

Me- "What? Stan?"

Hubs- "Yeah. What's up with Stan?"

Me- "It's StanD. Not Stan!"

uncontrolled laughter

Hubs- "Ohhh. I thought it was some kind of catch phrase, "That's Allstate, Stan."

Me- "That's Allstate's StanD."

more laughter

Me- "You thought they were trying to get Stan to buy insurance. There is this one guy out there who refuses to buy Allstate and his name is Stan."

Hubs- "Yep. Now, that's focus advertising."

Welcome to the world, baby girl!

Praise God for tiny miracles.

Molly Amelia was born this morning, weighing 5 lbs., 5 oz.

She is a strong, healthy and beautiful baby girl.
Mom is doing well and Dad was present for the birth.

God is Good.

Thank you for your prayers, internets!

The Sadness Is No More

"It was now about the sixth hour,

and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour,

for the sun stopped shining.

And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.

Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."

When he had said this, he breathed his last." Luke 23:44-46 NIV

Sadness is not an emotion or a feeling. Sadness has breath and life. It stares you down with dark, piercing eyes. Sometimes it sneaks up on you in an unguarded moment. Sometimes you can see it in the distance, creeping slowly towards you until the hour comes when it strangles you in its dark, deathly hold.

Survival comes when you break free from the strangling, gasping for breath until the sadness runs away, hiding from the Light.

God is The Light.

Over 2000 years ago, this kind of sadness covered Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John, the beloved disciple. Sadness overwhelmed them as they stood helpless at the foot of The Cross watching their Christ slowly die. They were helpless to save Him, but He was not helpless to save them.

The darkness came and sadness hung thick in the air. Its weight crushed them. It was the kind of sadness that crying doesn't relieve. The tears come until one can cry no more and the heavy sadness makes it hard to breathe.

The Father and The Son were separated for the first time as my sins were laid upon Christ's beaten back. He held them on His weary shoulders, naked and humiliated, hanging in the dark sky on display for the fallen world. They mocked Him and spat on Him. All because of me. And you.

He had the power to save Himself but He used it to save the world.

From the sadness. From death. From eternal darkness.

And as He promised, the sadness left. The darkness was overcome with The Light. He rose from the dead in all glory so that we can be with Him one day in heaven.

Where there shall me no more tears, no more sadness, and no more darkness.

Just pure, saving, life-giving Light.

Please Pray

Looks like there will be a new kid in town today.


Without going into details about T's condition, I would just like to ask you to-

* Pray for her, the baby, and the family that is comforting them.
* Please pray that the medical staff will make the right decisions and make them in a timely manner.
* Pray that God will be glorified through it all.

Thank you for all of your prayers.

Great Photo

Head over to Southern Girl's Guide To Almost Anything.

You will love this photo!

Thank you!

His Singer over at His Unfinished Work has given me a lovely prize,

The Little Alien That Could AKA The Thinking Blogger Award.

Updated to add- A big thank you to Southern girl, too!

I didn't think I was a thinker. But I guess that makes me a thinker, or does it?

Hmmm...

Seriously, I do like a good discussion with hubs and friends about life, liberty and the pursuit of chocolate but I seldom write about those things.

Except the chocolate.

Thanks, His Singer, for thinking of me.

;>)

Ode To The Ones Left Behind

I've seen you many times.
All alone on the side of the road.
You are the forgotten one.
The right one.
The left one.
I just don't know.

I just keep on driving.
Wondering, "Where is your sole mate?"
I never stop to pick you up.
Or offer you a ride.
I just keep on driving.
A few times, I think I may have run over you.
(Sorry about the tread marks.)

Surely, you must be lonely there.
On the side of the road.
Or the highway.
Or the curb.
Caught between two lanes of traffic.
Trapped in this pothole called Life.

The mystery shuffles on.
And still, you wait.
Like all the others.
The flip flop.
The sneaker.
The boot.

Carry on, lonesome one.

Carry on.

I Knew Her When...

I was in Target today and guess what I happened to pass by.



This.

And I had to grab it (and pay for it, of course!) because I knew that Mrs. Dryer herself had a very touching story waiting for me to read between the pages.

I started to tell the cashier, "Yep. My friend wrote something in there... well she isn't really a friend, she is a blog friend and I have never met her, but we've emailed and I love her blog, and she is a sister in Christ, so yes... yes, she is my friend."


But the cashier looked like she was collecting two checks- One from Target and One from Social Security.


So I thought she would just say, "What, honey? What's a blog?"



Congrats, Shannon!!!

Viva Las Vegas and all that jazz.

Ahem.

No, really. I need to clear my throat. It's the Hack and Wheeze.

I'll spare you the rest of the details. Let's just say that I don't know why the Good Lord decided to make our bodies produce oddities that come from the nostrils and lungs.

And I hope you good folks already ate dinner.

Speaking of dinner, let me tell y'all more grossness from our house. I think I just invented a word.

At exactly midnight Sunday, the digital clock struck a digital twelve and my daughter hurled in her sleep all over our bed. All. Over. Our. Bed. With. Me. In. It.

My very southern comforter in all its magnolia blossom glory has a teeny tiny little label sewn into the seam where the magnolias meet with some lovely dogwood blossoms in a delightful display of southern comfort without the liquor. (I'm Baptist.)

Dry clean only.

I do have one ounce of mercy in me and I did not take the hurled upon not-so-comfortable comforter to the cleaners. I washed it in the washing machine like a good Mama does and it is now air drying in the bath tub as I pray that someone was just trying to play a joke on me when they placed such rigid laundering rules on my bedding.

Anywho.

Just as the lovely carriage turned back into a pumpkin, my daughter threw up and then she wanted the details.

"Mama, what did I just throw up?"

"Your dinner."

"But what?"

"Chicken Ya Ya (that's chicken nuggets to you rookies) and salad."

"And the ketchup on my chicken?"

"Yep. That, too."

"Now that my stomach is all empty, can I have something to eat?"

It's just a buffet of disgusting information at my house.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Jazz. Sanjaya, you must never, ever sing that song ever again because that song belongs to The English Patient in my head and you ain't no English patient. You don't even look ill. Please, sweet mercy, go to college and make your parents proud because I just can't take any more. Bless your heart. I know your Mama is so proud of you. I'm just sayin.

And did y'all know that Elvis is alive? I saw him today while house hunting. His full size poster was plastered on the wall of what could be used as a guest room or an office but is currently being used as a Sewing Room/Elvis Shrine.

As my Mama would say in a whisper, "To each his own. I didn't care for it."

Bless his heart.

Prayer Request Update

My sister-in-law is doing well. Had an ultrasound this morning. The baby's weight is looking good, heart rate good.

Will keep you updated. Thanks for all of the prayers!! It means a lot, Internets.

:>)

Need Prayer

Calling all Internets-

My sister-in-law really needs your prayers. Her water broke and she is 6 weeks early. Her husband is across the world right now serving his country. He was supposed to be home this week, in plenty of time for the birth.

My in-laws are driving down to be with her as I type. I am many hours away myself.

The baby's heart rate is fine. Please pray for T and the baby, and for Daddy-to-be who is far away right now.

Thank you,

Yep, I birthed her.

"Mommy, guess what I'm drawing."

Scribble on the Magna Doodle.

"A snake."

"Nope."

"Hmmmm..."

"DNA!"

"Uh-huh. That's a double helix."

"But whose DNA is it?"

Quotes

There's a Quotes Contest going on. The contest is closed, but you can still head over there and read some great quotes. I love me a good quote and I have searched for some of my favorites. I couldn't find just one.

I love to read things by Abraham Lincoln, Eleanor Roosevelt, Mark Twain and Erma Bombeck. I started to list one or two, but there were just too many to choose from.

So, here are a few of my own. They will surely leave no mark on your life or your floors.

Quotes by Melanie @ This Ain't New York

"I am tired of reading about successful women with briefcases, Botox, and million dollar bank accounts. Show me a woman who can get a two year old to eat dinner and remove ketchup stains from natural fibers. Now, she's my hero."

"If I had super powers, I would wave a wand over my house and make it look like the after pictures on all of those Extreme Makeover Home Shows, only prettier."

"If a mother were ever President, they would have to do away with the Oval Office.

There are no corners for Congress to go to Time Out."

"The only women in history who were remembered for being skinny were starving to death."

A Whole Lotta Nothing

1. I have invented a new move that could get Sanjaya voted off. It's called the Hack and Wheeze.

2. Daughter just told me her eyeball is about to pop out and she can't see or hear so good.

3. OTC meds, please start working.

4. Orlando must have nuclear level pollen that we folks up here just ain't used to.

I'm just sayin, y'all.

5. We've pretty much given up on the "Bless You" etiquette around here. After it's been said 50 times in the past hour, it starts to feel like your mama telling you how pretty you are over and over again while you have an outbreak of acne and the frizzies. Kind of loses its effect.

6. Right now I am watching the "Have You Seen This Snail" episode of Spongebob which, pathetically has become my favorite.

Happy Weekend to the Allergen Free.