Blessed...blogs of the month!

If you haven't already noticed the left side of my blog - it's time you did! This is the part of my blog real estate that I use for my monthly blogging hall of fame.

I will highlight seven blogs each month for your enjoyment. Blogs that inspire, encourage, make me laugh and sometimes even make me cry, will be right over there at your finger tips.

I look forward to having all of you there soon! And if you're impatient like me and just can't wait, then hop on over to my BlogFrog thingamajiggy on the right side there and check out my blogroll. Or add your name to the list of beautiful ladies.

Now, have your cursor make a sharp left turn on over to my Blessed...blogs of the month list, and pay a visit to all of these Blessed... blogs.

Never Grope a Guest Speaker

A few of my precious writers group buddies.

When I attended my first writers conference a couple of years ago, I asked lots of questions. Thankfully, I belong to a wonderful writers group and there is a wealth of knowledge there. Many of my friends filled me in about what to expect, what I should and shouldn't do.

That well known pearl of wisdom, Never Grope a Guest Speaker, didn't happen to be part of the advice. But, you'd think I would have known that one already.

Lunch during a writers conference is a special time. The authors, speakers, publishers and editors who taught the classes will sit down and eat with you. As you enter the lunch room their tables are marked with their name tag. Lots of people rush in to sit by their person of choice- kinda like they do on black Friday at Kohl's.

It is a great opportunity for writers to pitch their book ideas and network with others.

This year I was not serious about charging the table for anyone. The creamy garlic penne pasta had my full attention. But one of my friends somehow got a hold of me and told me we were all sitting over there, as she pointed to the table off in the distance.

As my friends came into view, I saw that the only seat left was right beside our guest speaker. This gifted man has written numerous Christian novels and taught writing classes at Princeton. He is kind of a big deal in the writing world.

As I sat down I could hear that he was asking everyone about what they were writing. When he got to me my mouth was full of cranberry-walnut spinach salad. I turned my face away so as not to spit raspberry vinagrette all over him.

I mispoke when I shared what I was writing. I chuckled and corrected myself. Being the touchy person I am, (my face still turned away chewing my elephantine mouthful of greens) I reached my left hand out to laugh and kindly touch his shoulder.

This is where the scene goes horribly wrong.


My hand missed his shoulder and landed on his thigh...under the table.


Have you ever had one of those moments? You know - when silently every microscopic molecule in your body is screaming?

Then you know exactly what I'm talking about.

The rest of lunch was a blur. I immediately stood up and did what any middle-aged godly woman would do...I got a plate full of chocolate cheesecake brownies.

Mr. Bigtime Author was kind enough not to shame me, but he kept his distance after that.

Did I tell you that I am going to the Mt. Hermon's writers conference in April? Pray for me. I hope to keep my hands to myself.

Ok, so you wanna hear about the conference?

Just like I'd told you, I left my house and headed straight for Starbucks. With my Non-fat Black tea latte (with vanilla sweetener) in one hand and my pumpkin scone in the other, I skipped back to my mini-van. The drive was pure heaven. I cranked up my Chris Tomlin CD and praised God for the hundreds of blessings in my life.

My next stop was to visit my little brother at his work. My little brother is thirty years old. He is a public defender. My mom must have dropped him on his head. How else could he have made that career choice? I told him that if I ever sat in his courtroom I wouldn't sit anywhere near him. I would sit on the victims side!

I greeted my brother outside of the court room. He was busy speaking with families and clients. I walked up to him in front of these people and pretended to be one of his clients, "Is my case going to be heard today?" I asked. My brother played right along, "Yes, I believe it is. Could I have a word with you?" ushering me aside so we could talk brother to sister. I kept the joke going and loudly said, "Did you read my whole case? The officers who arrested me wouldn't listen. There is no video tape of me taking anything...."

After three hours sitting and watching criminal court, my heart just about broke. You have to understand, I have had a one-sided view of criminals. I work for a police department for pete sake. I hear the first few moments of the most critical experiences for many people. It is so easy for me to paint an ugly picture of all suspects of a crime.

While in the courtroom I witnessed grandmothers silently praying, mothers and fathers - faces marked with pain as they watched their young sons and daughters handcuffed and shackled in their prison attire, escorted into the court room for their one last hope of grace.

Yes, I still believe that if you do the crime, you do the time. Except now the true suspect in need of a life sentence came into focus. In every case presented that morning, the true perpetrator was sin. I could almost hear the enemy of our souls hateful laughter echo in the courtroom as he used his razor sharp sword to pierce the hearts of the families there and slash at the lives of the prison bound. His heinous tool of choice for the carnage at hand was drugs.

The very last young man escorted in walked clumsily to the defense table. His faded grey and white striped prison uniform hung on his frail body. With his head stooped and shoulders slumped, he hung his head in shame - never once looking back at his family who had gathered there. Something written on his shirt caught my eye. "God is in me." in cursive lettering was penned accross his back.

Tears welled as I prayed the enemy would not win the battle of this man's soul. Not today, not ever.


"Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering." Hebrews 13:3

...oh wait, I told you that I was going to talk about the writer's conference didn't I? Be patient, that story is coming. It's a good one too!

Are you too busy?

Are you too busy? I know, what a silly question. I am working hard on my my book on busyness for moms, so I thought I'd include some clues that were eye openers for me.


Top Ten Clues That I Was Too Busy...


1. My gas tank was forever on empty.

2. My kids thought all meals came with a side of fries.

3. We celebrated birthdays on the soccer field.

4. There was something horrible growing in my shower.

5. I was irritable...all...the...time.

6. A romantic night out was listening to our kids grammar school band perform Chop Sticks.

7. Quantity time had replaced quality time.

8. Chaos had become my closest companion.

9. I believed singing Jesus Take the Wheel on the way to a Girl Scout Meeting counted as my Bible study for the week.

10. I blinked and my daughter was seventeen.

I'm Outta Here!

This weekend I will be attending a Christian Writer's Conference in the Bay Area - ALONE.

Can I just brag a teensy bit and say that I have the best husband in the world? I am leaving early in the morning and making lots of stops to visit family and friends first. Let me rephrase that. My very first stop will be Starbucks.

Did I say Paul was the best husband in the world? Ok, maybe that's is a bit over dramatic.

I meant to say, in the infinite, gargantuan, elephantine Universe!

He is watching the kids so I can learn as much as I can, be encouraged and hear from the Lord. Oh, how I pray that He speaks to me above a whisper. That still small voice is hard to hear when you are busy yapping with other gals who enjoying writing like you do.

So if you happen to be on HWY 50 tomorrow morning, I will be the one in the minivan with the pumpkin scone stuffed in her mouth, singing at the top of her lungs, and more than likely making an illegal lane change.

Can't wait to share it all with you when I return!

4th-Child-Syndrome-Do You Have It?

At 4:45pm I yelled for my son Samuel to hurry to the car. It was time to head out for Cap Night. Have you ever attended Cap Night? It is a wonderful and much loved annual event where the little league gathers 4.6 million little boys under the age of ten - feed them their weight in store bought cookies and then tell them to sit still while awaiting to hear what team they are on.

We were running late. I walked down the hall to see where Samuel was. This was my discovery.




Have you figured it out yet?





Shocked. I asked my son why in the world he had put on two different shoes for Cap Night?

"Mom, these are the shoes I wore to school today!" He said.

I had no idea.

I took the above pictures, then rushed him into the car and over to his big event...still wearing the shoes.


4th-Child-Syndrome: Anything you now find cute, humorous, or indifferent, that you would have had a fit over with your first born.

Musings from our Minivan

It's time once again for our much loved, Musings from our Minivan.

In today's episode, our family has just finished a delicious and nutritious dinner of In N'Out Burgers.

Disclaimer: For those of you who don't know what In N' Out Burgers are -they are California's equivalent to Chick Fil-A, minus the chicken.

************************************************************

Samuel: Dad, how come you don't run for President of the United States?

Dad: Son, if I were the President of the United States I would be very busy. I enjoy hanging out with you kids too much.

But, if I were President, I'd name you to my cabinet. You would be my Secretary of Video Games.

Samuel: COOL!

Dad: And I would name you Grace - Secretary of Kindness.

Grace: AWESOME!

Dad: And you David - I would call to be my Secretary of Defense.

Slight confused pause.

David: Dad, I'd rather be your Secretary of Offense.

Searching for a Godly Spouse

Last week while I was cleaning my kitchen I brought in my shiny red laptop. I wanted to search for something interesting that would keep my mind off of my task of cleaning the tile-jam (that's toe-jam, except in between tile). I HATE TILE. But I digress. I'll bore you with that dark little secret another time.

I found myself at the Focus on the Family site. As always, Dr. Dobson and his program didn't disappoint. Well known pastor and author Alistair Begg was the guest speaker this day and his topic of discussion was Searching for a Godly Spouse - Part 1 and 2.

No, I am not searching for a Godly spouse. Not today anyway. But I did find myself drawn to this teaching. It was a good refresher course for me. I made breakfast for Paul. Later that morning we sat and listened together (while stuffing our mouths with eggs and sausage). He enjoyed it just as much. No, not just the sausage, the message too.

We both decided our oldest two kids needed to hear this.

Today we shared this wonderful and timeless message with our teenage daughter and teenage son. We had them take notes. Afterwards we had a quick Q and A time, just the four of us. We asked them to share with us anything that really stuck out to them. We had an amazing discussion.

Though our daughter is seventeen and our son is fourteen and their spouses are nowhere in the picture yet, Praise God, we made sure to share with them that they are able to take this exact criteria and choose good friends in their high school as well.

If you are interested in listening too, head on over to Focus on the Family, click on the Broadcasts and Podcasts on the left side of the main page, then click on Listen Now and then find the teachings "Searching for a Godly Spouse 1 & 2" - shared on February 9th and 10th.

Whenever I hear an amazing teaching, I have to pass it on!

Snow...in California???

Apparently, a snowfall at 5am can be heard by children in California.

This native California family has all the best in snow gear.

My stalker-walker friend Gina, even talked me into walking in the snowy-slushy-mess. This picture is for you Roger (Gina's never-sits-down-for-a-second-dad)...I'm not such a wimp after all right? Remember, you said I was back in your good graces!

The last snowfall we had was four years ago, on a Sunday. The kids were doubly blessed that they could play in it all day. God blessed the children again this time too. They are all home from school today for the President's holiday weekend.

As my darling hubby would say, "God loves you, but we're His favorite."

What? You wouldn't have thought of this?

After seventeen years of parenting, either I am completely tuckered out, or I have plain lost my mind.

When my little girl told me that her balloon was stuck on the ceiling, I didn't bat an eye as I watched my teenage son take matters into his own hands.

There is a new Sheriff in town and his name is David.

I Have To Share!

I snagged this from Travis Cottrell's blog tonight...

and I just have to share.


Beth, make sure you show this to Julia!






Let me know what you think!

Do supporters get paid?

My contract came in the mail today from from Lifeway for my article. My son David started reading the contract, his eyes glued to the amount I'd be paid and said, "Hmmmm, that's great mom. As a supporter of yours who has always had faith in you...I think my allowance should be increased from zero dollars, don't you think?"

I just love that kid.

Confession is good for the soul.

They say that confession is good for the soul. So, I confess...



I HATE HOUSEWORK!



When I look at this lovely woman in the picture above, smiling as she crouches on her hands and knees, scrubbing the ring out of her bathtub, I think to myself, "Is this woman medicated? She must be!"



Who in their right mind loves to wash windows, scrub toilets, clean blinds and vacuum?



After twenty years of scrubbing, washing, cleaning and shining, I am plain tuckered out. Fly-lady, be gone!

YOU GALS ROCK!

Sending out a great big bear hug, to all of you who commented on my post below.

You gals rock!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

Writing this chapter has been incredibly difficult, so much harder than I'd thought it would be.

Leaving a legacy is something that is near and dear to my heart too. I personally don't understand parenting without a sense of the imprint you are making on your children's lives.

Paul felt that our children will determine our legacy. Basically, no matter what we do, they will have the last say.

Which is true...but...

Like many of you, I believe that what I do now and what I make important in my life, will be more than likely, what they make important in theirs.

My legacy casts a shadow on all that I do as a mom.

I can't help it, it's how God has wired me.

I need a little help.

Would you mind giving me a hand? I need your help. I am working on my book for moms, See Jane Run - A Practical Guide to Breaking the Bondage of Busyness and the Captivity of Activity. The chapter that I am writing now is, "I Want to Leave a Legacy."

Yep, just like the chorus in the song Legacy by Nichole Nordeman. Same one that's playing right now on my blog. I thought I'd set the mood...

While I was getting ready this morning I was surprised that my husband and I had a debate about our thoughts on leaving a legacy for our children. My ideas about leaving a legacy and his were so different. I will fill you in more later, don't want to sway your answers.

Since I am concerned that I could be a little out of touch here, would you mind helping a fellow blogging mom out? It would bless me if I could use your thoughts as part of my research for this book.

If you feel so inclined, would you answer a few of the quetions below?

1. Do you believe in or ever think about leaving a legacy for your children?

2. How do you show this in your actions as a mom?

3. Has there been something that you believe has defined your legacy?

4. If you don't live with your legacy in mind, as a mom, what fuels you to raise up your children?


Thank you friends! I can't wait to read your answers.

Walking down memory lane...

Since I am working a twelve hour shift today at the police department, while the rest of you are eating spinach dip and nachos. I thought it would be fitting to share with you a favorite 911 call. I dug through my posts and was surprised to see that this post was published a year ago today.

It must have been meant to be...


Welcome once again to what I fondly like to call my "Seriously..are you kidding me?!?" favorite police call of the night.

AND THE WINNER IS....

ME: 911, what is your emergency?

Ryan: (child sniffling) Can you send a policeman out to talk to my mom?

ME: What's going on there?

Ryan: My mom took my (not sure what he said here)...

ME: Your mom took your what? I couldn't understand what you said.

Ryan: My mom took my teddy bear. My teddy bear with a backpack.

ME: What is your name?

Ryan: Ryan

ME: How old are you Ryan?

Ryan: 8yrs old.

ME: Why did your mom take your teddy bear with the backpack on it?

Ryan: Because I won't do my homework.

(This is where I am quietly screaming inside, "SERIOUSLY!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!)

ME: Well Ryan, it sounds to me like your mom is being a mom. Maybe if you do your homework you will get your teddy bear back.

Ryan: (Sounding disappointed that I told him to do his homework) Yeah, I guess.

ME: Ryan, if I have to send a policeman to your house tonight it will be to talk to you. He will be very disappointed that you didn't listen to your mom and do your homework.

And Ryan, don't ever call 911 again for something like this...ever.

Ryan: (quietly) ok...