No Broken Bones

No Broken Bones

      So, today as I was sitting in the truck while the kids and Barrett went in Shoe Carnival, I took out my bible and turned to Psalm.  I ran across PS. 34: 19-21 which says; 

      "The righteous person may have many troubles, 
   but the LORD delivers him from them all; 
²⁰ he protects all his bones, 
   not one of them will be broken.

 ²¹ Evil will slay the wicked;
   the foes of the righteous will be condemned."

     

     I was in total awe when I read this; especially verse 20!  Out of all my years of walking (and falling)  I've never broken a bone.  I did crack my pinkie finger when I was a kid.  I've had to get stitches  a couple of time; I still get dizzy at times from my infamous concussion last year; and I have many scares and bruises that decorate my body buy no broken bones to claim.  This is truly a miracle.  When I read this passage it just truly made me think; "Man God is so good!"  He Has protected me from physically injuries many, many times, And He's protected more times than against all the spiritual blunders I've had.  I know that I could fall tonight and seriously  hurt myself tonight, it wouldn't mean that I'm in any less way protected by God.  If He see fit to let me have a broken bone He'll give me what I'll need to deal with it, just as he allowed Jesus to die for the forgiveness of my sins so that I could live with him in Heaven.  This concept of no broken bones is quite interesting  because Jesus at the time of the crucifixion  which fulfills phropecy.  

Jn 19:31-37 tells us 

"Now it was the day of Preparation, and the next day was to be a special Sabbath. Because the Jewish leaders did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down. 32 The soldiers therefore came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with Jesus, and then those of the other. 33 But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 34 Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. 35 The man who saw it has given testimony, and his testimony is true. He knows that he tells the truth, and he testifies so that you also may believe. 36 These things happened so that the scripture would be fulfilled: “Not one of his bones will be broken,”[a] 37 and, as another scripture says, “They will look on the one they have pierced.”[b]

   A biblical sacrifice had to be presented with out any blemishes  Leviticus 1:3 says:

 ³ “‘If the offering is a burnt offering from the herd, you are to offer a male without defect. You must present it at the entrance to the tent of meeting so that it will be acceptable to the LORD."

Not only Has God always protected my bones, He first protected Christ's bones so that He would remain the prefect, unblemished sacrifice for my sin

Dalton's Mommy

I wrote this when my son was about 3 months old. Hope to get it published as a children's book one day.

Hello, my name is Dalton Keith and I want to tell you about my mommy. She has a disability called Cerebral Palsy, CP for short. CP affects how Mommy walks and talks and everything else she does. Before I was born Mommy had to be extra careful not to fall and hurt me in her tummy. When I was a baby Mommy pushed me in my stroller, even in the house, so she wouldn’t fall while she was carrying me. Daddy said I was Supper Baby because as rough as Mommy was with me, I never got hurt. Mommy walk funny. She told me that one time a little girl asked her why she had two broken legs. I laughed. Her legs aren’t broken; they’re just crooked. When we go shopping, my mommy drives a scooter so she won’t get so tired. Sometimes I ride in her lap, but sometimes I hold Daddy’s hand and walk like a big boy. We also get to park in the blue parking places. Mommy talks funny too. My friends will ask me what she said, but I know what she says. Mommy makes messes, but she cleans them up. She gets made if I don’t clean up my messes. Sometimes people laugh at my mommy and call her names. This makes me sad. Daddy said it is because they don’t know how special Mommy is. Mommy and Daddy and I laugh a lot too and this makes me happy. Some people think my mommy isn’t smart but before I was born she went to college. That is where she met Daddy. Sometimes I wish Mommy didn’t have Cerebral Palsy. Mommy said she wished I wouldn’t chase our dog Princess around and try to ride her. Mommy takes good care of me and Daddy and my little sister. I love my Mommy

My Hero: My Behind The Scenes Mama - 2010

     If  you had asked me growing up who my biggest supporter was I would have said my Daddy.  My Daddy was a great daddy!  He was the more vocal voice.  When I was born they basically told my parents to go home, leave me at the hospital and forget they every  had a daughter.  I wasn't expected to live, and even if I did live I was expected to be a vegetable and have all sorts of health issues; including mental retardation.  My Daddy told them ; No, that I was going to live and that I was going to have a "normal" life.  My parents both fought for me, but I guess I remember Daddy being my "vocal" about.it.  My Daddy had a very strong and domineering personality about him; the kind that simply demanded respect.  My Mama was/is more of a behind the scenes type of person.  Looking back I can say it was Mama who was the true super hero in my life:  She took me to all my doctors and speech appointments.  She's the one who helped me do leg exercises every night.  It was Mama who drove me back and forth to school for ten years just so I could go to one of the best schools in Nashville in order to receive a good education.  I loved my mom, but I didn't give her the respect she deserved.  I was jealous of her:.  She was "normal" and "perfect" and I would never be.  I blamed her for my disability.  I had came out of her body.  I expected her to always take care of me, according to my standards which were set way to high.  She was a stay-at-home-mom and I just thought that was so uncool.  All my friends' mom worked and I saw them as what  I wanted to be.  When she started nursing school my freshmen year of high school, I was elated. I seriously thought she wanted a career beyond being a wife and mother, she didn't.  She was doing what she had to in order to take care of her family.

      I've learned so much about my mom by becoming a mom.  I can still hear her saying, "I hope  you have a kid just like you!"  I see myself in Dalton constantly, especially as we tread through these preteen years. Bobbye Sue however, is just like.  I sometimes wonder if God placed me in the middle of those three simply for his own amusement.  Mama has taught me many things; to be patient, to love unconditionally; to forgive willing and to always follow.  Mama and I are very different people in many ways.  She's gone through things that I can't even fathom.  She's a lot stronger person than I though she was.  Like I said earlier she was/is a very behind the scenes person.  And now as I'm a wife and a mother that what I want to be.  This is very biblical.  No one on earth loved Jesus more than Mary did, however she too was very much a behind the scenes person.  She was there when He needed her; to support, but she knew that much of Jesus' life was going to a solo journey.  As I think about the relationship I have with my kids and reflect on the relationship I have with Mama, I think of John 3:30 where John the Baptist tells his disciples; "He must increase, but I must decrees."  (HCSB)  We have to let our kids grow up and be who God wants them to be.  My mom gave me everything she and then some in order to take care of me;  She did it willing and without expectation in return.  I'm sure in many ways, her and my family's could have been less complicated had they chosen to deal with my disability, but they chose to take the high road and do what was best for me.  As a Mama, I too am called to prepare my kids and then step back and watch them  soar.  This can be difficult in so many ways: First, it's natural to worry about them. and then I think; "Well, that's not how I would have done it; how I told them them to do it!"  Self keeps reaping back  in, trying to steel the spotlight and it isn't even my scene!   How can I expect them to live a good and godly life when I am constantly trying to run in and still the glory  I am proud to confess that when I grow up I want to be just like my Mama.  She's strong, kind, loving...I don't know if I'll make it but that's my aim.

What Would I Tell A 16 Year Old Version Of Myself

So, Midday Connection ~years ago~  asked the question the other day on the radio:  What would you say to a 16 year old you?  Now that's I loaded question if there ever was one  I turned 16 on November 29,  1989.  Two very determining factors that would alter my life forever happened within two weeks of my sixteenth birthday.  First, my Daddy was in a horrific accident that  nearly killed him.  He was hunting in Sherwood and feel out of a tree stand.  I'm ashamed to say I don't remember a lot  about the accident.  I honestly don't know if I have just blocked it out of my memory, or if I was just a selfish girl at heart who thought of nothing or no one but herself.  Sadly and with deep regret, I fear it was the latter one.     The other thing that happen was I attended a retreat called SEARCH where I fell totally in love with God.  I had been a Christian.  My family had started going to church when I was 7.  I always loved church and God,  but that weekend at SEARCH was when I started to understand that God loved me and wanted a personal relationship with me.  I wasn't suppose to be at SEARCH that weekend.  It was reserved for Juniors  and Seniors i n high school.  Even though I was sixteen, I was a lowly freshmen - I have a late birthday, plus I went to a preschool for disabled students until 7 and my parent wanted me to go into to the first grade   Needless to say, I'm older than many of my friends.  But it never fails to amaze me how God's way are greater than my ways; And He always knows exactly what we need exactly when we need it.  I can't tell you anything specific that happen that weekend that changed my life  It was what the future would bring that would change my life.  God used a weekend retreat to strengthen my life forever.     My Daddy was never quite the same after the accident.  I really think he suffer brain damage,  He changed.  It is not my desire to bash my Daddy here.   I loved him.  He made some choices, that I prayer I'll never make, but I respect his choices because I do  believe that they were part of the path of his life.    Some of the choices he made impaired the rest of the family.  It was through what I learned through SEARCH that allowed me to survive that difficult change in my life.  I had to learn to be depend on God, no matter what!     That seams like such a long time ago.  I guess if I could anything to that young girl now it would be to hold on to faith and to love the peopled around you, especially your daddy.  I loved my daddy, always did and always will.  I spent many years angry at  him and withdrawn from him.  I felt the need, regrettable to keep my children from him.  I thought, and still do in some part believe, that I was acting in the best interest of my children.  I've always struggled with this decision and always will.  I pray that God and my Daddy forgive me. We lost Daddy five and a half years ago, and although I made amends with him a few days before he died, I can not get back the time I lost with him.

Bobbye Sue's Jaunt To The ER ~ 2011

So, it was the first "normal" Friday night of football season.   Can you tell I'm married to a sports announcer??? Barrett was gone to a game.  I had ordered pizza and was folding clothes and watching TV(and listening to the radio).  The kids were outside playing with the neighbors.  Suddenly, Dalton ran in and called "Mama!" with that voice that said, "There's something really wrong here."      Bobbye Sue comes back to my room.  She was covered in blood from her nose to her throat.  At first, I wasn't sure where the blood was coming from.  I got her laying down on the bed and got the bleed stopped enough to see it was from her nose.  She said her (right) wrist hurt and there was a big knot on it,  and she cringed whenever I touched her.     I told Dalton to call Granddaddy (Barrett's dad) and I hurried to get ready to go.  She was crying; and Dalton kept saying, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."     Piece by piece, I gradually begin to comprehend what had happened.  Apparently they were "experimenting" with a new was to use the tire swing.  She was lying on top of the tire, holding the rode and Dalton was swinging her by her legs.  (This is something I can imagine my brothers and I doing years ago.)Well, needless to say, her hand slipped and she kissed the dirt.  It's been rumored that there was a dog leash involved too, but I chosen to close my "Mama" eyes to that little bit of information.       So we head off to the ER to find that Bobbye Sue did fracture her wrist.  (& yes, she is right handed and it is the start of a new school year.)         I must say, I'm really proud of Dalton; he stepped up and took care of his baby sister.  All went well until she asked him to hold the other hand while the doctor splinted the other and Dalton squeezed it too hard.  His reasoning; to divert the pain. 

Ahhh, I gotta love my little people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Count Your Blessings...~2011

...NAME THEM ONE BY ONE ...
   1)  My husband Barrett - who loves me even thru my craziness.2.  Dalton- who is the child wished upon me when I was growing up and my mama always said; "I hope you have a child JUST LIKE YOU!3)  Bobbye Sue - who my look like Stacia but is really just a miniature Barrett.4.  My wonderful father in law who I don't think knew when we got married that he was going to be "Driving Mrs. Heather".5) Holly Grove - our amazing church home and family.6.  A house we love: My prayer is to leave only in a pine box - but give me a few more years!7) My brothers - OK, here's what just came to mind.  Jimmy carrying me and running all the way back home after I fell and sliced my hand in the pond!8.  My sister - definitely a worthwhile blessing to our family.9.  My sept-dad; Yep, I owe you a Chinese supper. 10.  My mama - who I said I'd never be like, but I'm grateful I'm becoming more and more like every day

What's Good about "Good Friday?

Have you ever contemplated on why the Friday before Easter is referred to as "Good Friday"?  For people who aren't Christians, Good  Friday is nothing more than a "holiday" off work; they may even get irritated because local and our federal bossiness may be  closed.  Christians may or may not have much of a different view.  They know that it's the day that represent the day of Christ's crucifixion.  To think of the day that some dying as  a "good" seam absurd and unnatural to us.  Even if their death is a blessing, such as the end of a long bout of suffering, it it always a sad day when someone we love and care about dies and departs from our presence.   How sad it is to think that our savior; our Lord had to suffer and die such a tragic death.  It seams like this day should be called "Bad Friday".  However, it's the unseen deed that took place on Calvary's Mountain that made that day "good".  It was the shedding of Jesus' innocent blood that would be used to cover all of my sins and grant me my ticket to live for eternity in heaven.  It's not that I'm glad that He suffered and died; in fact, it sickens me.  However, I am so thankful that He did.  This is why I  think this day is called "Good" Friday.

Fried Pickle Fit ~2011

OK, Just need to talk this out, please.  Tonight, I took the kids and granddaddy (who sat in the truck)   to Captain D's.  Dalton had wanted fried pickles.  Well, in the process of ordering, there was a miscommunication between the lady who took our order, him and I: She told him it would cost extra and  showed him what he could get as sides,  He said OK, assuming he would get the pickles.  Well somehow the pickles didn't get ordered.  Well, instead of nicely if he could order them, he got ugly and started throwing a fit, and said he wasn't;t does it and wanted to go out to the truck.  It was quite a scene.  Then Bobbye Sue got involved .  She went and told them that we wanted an order of pickle.  I politely told the lady "No thank you."  and explained to Bobbye Sue that she couldn't override me like that.  She turned on her big puppy dog eyes and said;  "Mama, I was just trying to be a good sister.: :cry:  I told her I knew that, but she need to let me be the mama.  Anyway, all the way home Dalton continued to fuss.  This of course upset DFIL.  I feel he think I'm a bad mother.  But I have to do what I think is best for them and giving in to them doesn't work.  They have to respect me.  I know Dalton  is growing up  and trying to figure  out who he is.  We had a(nother) long talk when we got home.  He said I don't love him.  I told him I did and that I pray, and cry and fret over him more than anything.  I told him my job is to raise him, not to bend to his every whim.  I told him that he may not really see how much I really love him until he's an adult and has kids.  I really think our talk planted a seed and In fact he called me from Granddaddy's before bed to say was really sorry and he loved me.    He's such a good kid and I know growing up is hard...All I can do is pray to the greatesr father of all.   I felt peaceful today, I usually feel like such I bad mama, but I just have this great sense of peace today that holding my ground  was the right thing to do.

My Journey to God

When I was born, I was a month early; I was breached and strangled by the umbilical cord.  The doctors told my parents that if I lived; I’d probably be mentally retard, deaf and blind.  They were told to more or less to leave me at the hospital and forget they had a daughter.    Fortunately, for me, God gave me a set of awesome parents who loved me and who refused to give up on me.
        When I was 2, I was diagnosed with Cerebrally Palsy.  My parents got me all the resources I needed.  When it came time for me to start school, they wanted the best for me there too.  They chose to send me to a Catholic school.  My parents weren’t currently going to church when I was born.  When I was 7 the family joined the church.
        I was brought up with 5 brothers.  I really wasn’t treated differently because of my CP, but because I was the only girl.  I had as many, if not more, opportunities as the boys had.
      I guess  I was about 12 or so when  I began to understand that I would always be disabled; up until them I honestly thought I would “outgrow”  my CP.  I didn’t want to want to be disabled.  I loved God, but really could not understand why He’d made me disabled and how he could possible a person who was as broken as I was.    I suffered from depression and some emotional problems.  When I was 18, I spent 3 weeks in a psychiatric hospital.    While I was there, our priest came and visit me and he let me know that it was OK to question God and even be angry    now and then.    I also had the opportunity to attend  a weekend retreat called SEARCH.  Through SEARCH, I learned that God wanted a personal relationship with me, just as I am: CP and all.    I didn’t have good enough to earn God’s love, you can’t earn God’s love it’s a gift freely given – we just have to accept it.
        I started Middle Tennessee University in the fall of 1993.  My major was Social Work.  I really wanted to help people; however I also had a bigger dream.  I wanted to be a wife and mother.  I didn’t know if I could even have kids, nor did I know if some guy could love me with the CP  I really began to pray that I would meet my “soul mate”.
       In May of 1997, I took a 3 week philosophy class.  I met this guy there and I just knew he was “the one”.  He however, had different plans; he just wanted to ne “friends”.  So for a year, we were just that; friends.  I used to pray and cry myself to sleep and night, just hoping he’d fall in love with me.  He eventually did, and we were married on Nov. 7, 1998.  Looking back, I really do thank God for that year.  It gave us time to grow and get to know each other better.  Marriage is a big responsibility; especially when there are issues involved that are outside of the norm.
        I become pregnant on our honeymoon.  I was just about to turn 25 and we didn’t know if I could even have children.  God blessed us with 2; Dalton was born on July 13, 1999 and Bobbye sue was born on September 5, 2002.   I am a stay-at-home-mom.    When I was 6 months pregnant with Bobbye Sues, I was put in the hospital because of preterm labor.  I was in the hospital for 2 months before she was born.  She was perfectly healthy.
         I love being a wife and mother.  It’s a challenge at times.  We get weird looks whenever we go out as a family.  As the kids get older, it is  obvious to them and their friends that we are not the typical family and as they grow we may have more challenges to face because of my CP,  but we know that we will continue to trust God and that even when the way seam rough, He will be our guide.

Shaken To The Core

We recently got Direct TV and access to a DVR in our bedroom.  One of my new "guilty pleasure" is to record "Homekeepers" with Arthelene Rippy.  It's one of the show I've watched off and on for years.  I like it but it's one of the shows that comes on in the middle of the day and I forget about it.
     Anyway, I was watching it last night and she had a woman by the name of Anne Brooks on.  Mrs. Brooks had a daughter in the 60's 0r 70's (They didn't say for sure.  She's written a book called "If I Died, Will You still Love Me." Which I just ordered today.)  The daughter had Cerebral Palsy and she was taken away when she was 3 or so and put in state custody.  Her parents were accused of neglect and abuse.  They were only allowed to see her every now and then.  The parents were Christan and they had raised the girl in their faith, but she was told that it was a lie and that they didn't love her.  She eventually died when  she was 11; her feeding tube was inserted into her lungs instead of her stomach.  It was such a profound, profound story and it really made me stop and think how blessed. 
        I was born in 1973 and my parents were told to leave me at the hospital, to go home and forget they ever had a daughter.  It seams so unreal that anyone would tell a parent that.  God certainly did bless me with the right parents.  They fought for me and were able to provide opportunities to me  that MANY disabled children didn't (& still don't) get.  My parents were a gift to me from God & I know I am  walking & talking miracle!  
      I can never say thank you enough; Of course Daddy's in heaven & he's not here for me to thank.  I did call Mama lat night.  But how do you say thank you?  That's right up there (almost) with saying thank you to Jesus for dying for my sins so I can have salvation.  There are no words; no actions; nothing I can do to express my gratitude towards them.  Which I know they don't want my thanks and they did it purely out of love to me and obedience to God, but I'm just having such a time of amazement after hearing Mrs. Brooks story and realizing how truly blessed I am.
        I took a class in college that talked about how different cultures and times in history dealt with sickness and disabilities and it was just mind boggling.    I'm just so thankful to God that I was born in the era I was, the country I was and the family I was.  That was totally ordained by God.

A Few Thoughts On Marriage

Today I'm thankful that God has blessed me with a wonderful husband who loves me regardless of my many faults.  I am so undeserving.  Now, while my spiritual hearts knows this to be true too often my humanity tries to take over and gets in the way.  I start to thinking that Barrett "owes" me.  That he's the one who should be thankful because I'm so good to him.  I want him to think this way.  As little girls we grow up with this idea that we're going to meet, fall in love with and marry someone who thinks that we're just the sweetest, prettiest woman in the world and that we could do no wrong, even if we tried.
     Much I hate admit it; while I'll always think of Barrett as my Prince Charming, I am no princess.  I am not the perfect wife.  I fail him in every way.  Thankfully, he loves me anyway. It doesn't depend on how clean my house is or how delicious my meals are. Why I do want to try to keep a clean house and all that.  The bible says that God knows our heart.  We are very fortunate that God looks beyonds the actions to the heart.  If  our heart our right in trusting Him, then our actions - i.e. sins - are drenched in Jesus' blood and made as white as snow.  
        Marriage is the closet relationship that people can have this side of heaven; in fact marriage is the picture of Jesus and His church in the New Testament.  If God cared enough to place man and women in such a relationship with each other that it reflects His relationship with His people, how much does He think of it?  It really makes me stop and go; "WOW!"
        We live in a society that doesn't put much stock in marriage anymore.  It's no longer seen as a necessity.  I must admit that Barrett and I did live together for about six months before we got married; I think we both had our own reasons for doing so.  I think Barrett was unsure about marring someone with a disability, while I was more afraid that if I said "no", he'd leave me and go find someone else.  I was so immature!  He fell in love with me.  I didn't make him and he didn't choose it.  God gave us to each other.   Just as I didn't choose to follow God; He chose me to follow Him.
      Marriage is a honor;  not a curse, something I deserved or even something that I even have the right to want.  I do believe that it and motherhood are 2 of the highest callings that a woman can have.  It is truly a call to service. 

Like A Cold Cup Of Coffee...I Am A Bit Unique

I like cold coffee; and I'm not just talking iced mocha-although those are a fave - but coffee, cream and sugar.  I love coffee.  I'd love to drink it hot, but because of the CP & muscle spasm, drinking hot beverages doesn't lead to a pleasent sight!  So,it's much easier for me to drink it cooler or even stone cold.  Barrett will fix me a cup  before he goes to work & I'll drink later in the day.

Now, I'm not writing about this just to tell you I like cold coffee.  As I mentioned earlier, I am participating in theTitus 2 University.  Today I was listening to the first audio teaching and it got me thinking of how different I am from the "normal" mom.  Misty Krasawski, owner of theEncouraging Hearts at Home blog,  is a home schooling mom of eight.    She seams the "perfect"  woman.   As I started to listen, at first I felt really intimadated, but as I listened to   what she said about to letting go and letting God have the glory.  This snapped me back into reality.  While I may not be  the typical, "normal" mom, God has made me a mom. and a friend told me years ago that God gave mine children to me and no one else, He's a specific reason for me to be their mother and for them to be my children.  Psalm 139:14 says "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made..."  I am a different kind of mother, but I have faith that I'm  exactly the mother He wants me to be.  So I can keep trudging along, doing the best I can to praise and glorify God.  It's OK to be a different type of mom.

Just like it's OK to drink a cold cup of coffee

Tear Down My Veils, O God

Part of the class I'm taking at the Titus 2 University is that we are reading A.W. Tozer's The Pursuit of God.  (I am listening to it on CD - I love to read,  but sometimes I learn better if I can hear it.)  In this book, Tozer compares us to the tabernacle of God and how the inner most part of our soul is reserved for God alone; just like the inner most part of the tabernacle was reserved for the high priest.  Through sin and self, though, we try to fill  this spot which is meant for God alone.  This brought a memory to mind of a dear friend and former pastor's wife at our church who taught a class on sin once and the way she explained it one time just blew me away.  She said imagine you can see God-clear as day.  Every tine you sin you put a veil up between you and God that distort your view of Him.  The more you  sin, the thicker the veils are going to become and the harder it is going to be to see God.  Tozer more or less said that we fill our inner spot with so much stuff that's there no room left for God.  This is so easy to do.  I don't want to push God out of tbe way, it just sort of happens.  I get so busy with Barrett, the kids and everything else that before I know it I have a stack of veils before my eyes so thick that I can not see God.
     
Now, I know God is always with me.  While this brings me great comfort, I fear that sometimes I become too nonchalant about God and don't give Him the honor, praise and respect that He deserves. It's almost as if I just expect Him to always be here for me, instead of being grateful that He's always with me.  It's when I let other stuff enter inner most spot, the spot that's reserved for God alone, that I feel cluttered and feel as if God is a "friend" and not the awesome, holy God He is.

I don't want to think of God as mealy a friend.

I want my inner most spot to be for God alone.  But, I must admit, too often I want to have others enter into that inner most  space, especially Barrett and Becki, my BFF.  Probably because these are the two people that I am closest to on earth.  (I'm not excluding my kids - I am close to them.  At times they do want me to be their "friend" and I can well remember so desperately wanting my mama to be me best friend, but that wasn't her job and it's not my job to be my kids "best friend", its my job to be their mama.  It not only helps me -but they need someone besides mama to go to.)   

       Anyway, I digress.  My point is I do want to invite certain people into that "inner spot" that's meant for God alone.   Why???  I'm sure that on any given day I'd have  several different replies to answer this question.   However,  today (and probably most days)  the outstanding answer is "fear".  It's not that I'm afraid of God - although I do believe I have a  healthy reverent respect for God.  But when you have to block everything out and focus on your relationship with God; it does get scary.  You have to stop and really realize what's important in life.  Most  of us aren't mature enough most of the time to face this time alone with God.  So, we do whatever we can  to avoid it.  So we (I) try to fill that inner space with other things or people.  Thinking maybe if I do I can either drown out God or that  He will not rebuke me in front of others.  (UHM, I wonder if God's politically correct or overly concerned about what others think???)

     So I definitely need to work on putting God first!

Book Review: The Table Experience

I can so remember the table in our family,   My parents actually bought the family table at a auction when they first got married.  It was a massive piece of furniture.  I think it was oak.  It had  two or  three leaves to add more room.  The legs had swrils around them.  There was a matching desk to go along with it.  Months ago, I first heard about Devi Titus's book The Table Experience onHomekeepers with Arthlene Rippy and was so intrigued I had to read it and I'm so glad I did!
      I guess the thing that struck most at the start of the book was to learn the history of the table.  The first piece of furniture that God ordered Moses to build for the tabernacle was the  ark of the covenant, the 2nd piece was the table - giving more than exact details on how to build it.    Isn't it amazing how God reveals what matters to Him most through His word.  I truly believe that the family is the core of God's plan for society.   Sometimes in America we turn to old TV shows to see where our values come from.    The table which in my opinion, along with the kitchen is the center and heart of the home seams to have been replaced by the TV and many other media sources.  I must admit that during our first couple of years of marriage,  we ate every meal in front of the tube.   At first I thought this was OK, even cool;  I guess that's because we had rarely ate in front of the TV.  We even bought an adjustable seat that hook in a chair as Dalton's  high chair.    It wasn't until after Bobbye Sue was born  that I really felt an urge   to start eating family dinners at the table.  I don't exactly know why it hit at this time; I think I just finally felt like we were a family and so we needed to eat like one.
      This book really open my eyes to the communion at the family table.  Mrs. Titus even goes as far to say that God can do some miraculous around the table.

Is A Disability Natural?

So I came across this quote in the Tennessee Council on Developmental Disabilities:  "Disability is a natural part of the human experience..."  Not sure why, but I find this a bit disturbing.  While I've always been disabled, I don't feel that it is natural.  It's hard to look out into a world where it seams like you are the only one that's not "normal"  and see your disability as natural.    While Cerebral Palsy is not considered a progressive disability; as I age and my life changes the CP affects me differently.  It's dismissed as natural phase of aging.  I understand this; but it's hard to see as natural when you're aging in your mid 30's whenever one around you seams to be in their prime.   It's not that I truly hate being disabled, I don't.  I don't exactly love it, But I do see it as a gift that God has blessed me with.    (Even throughout the bible, many stories of great blessing also include great trails.)    Part of me does see the CP as natural.  It's all I've ever known and I have adapted.  It some ways that's a good thing; you have to face reality.  However, in another way, part of me doesn't want to set my disability as natural.  I don't want  to just accept my CP; I don't want the CP to define me.  I want to constantly strive to do my best and often  when I accept things, I tend not to.     One of the hardest things about being disabled is that strong desire to be independent.  A disability robs you of this; to a certain degree.  And sometimes to accept  it means to give into it.

God Spoke ~ 2012

So, a few weeks ago we were have a transportation issue ~ surprise,surprise.  Both the kids were scheduled to attend day camp: Dalton to basket ball camp & Bobbye Sue to girl scout camp.  Before I signed her I made sure Bobbye Sue had a ride.  Well, things didn't work.  One day, I cried out to God in anger; "WHY DOES MY CEREBRAL PALSY HAVE TO EFFECT MY KIDS?  IT'S NOT FAIR!!!"  God quickly rebuked me & said; "Don't you think maybe I wanted your Cerebral Palsy to effect your kids?"  I can't explain it and other way than to say it felt like someone punched me in the stomach...It took my breath away & all I could think was "WOW!!!"  I am on of those people who think that all think are interconnected. My mama always says "You never know; maybe one of your kids or grand-kids may came up with a cure/treatment for CP."  I've really been thinking about all of this and truly amazed.  I have no idea what God has in for me or my kids.  They may have situations in their life that only be handled with   the knowledge and mercy that can come with having a disabled mother.  I'm by no way saying I'm a martyr, nor do I want to be, but if my trails and struggles can in anyway strengthen my friends and or family's relationships with God then bring on the trails and struggles.

Book Review ~ Grace for the Good Girl

   So it took me almost  2 months to read, but I finally finished reading Grace for the Good Girl  by Emily P. Freeman.  I read this as part  of The Titus 2 Univversy.  I must say this is a great book; one of the best I've read in a while  The first thing I noticed was the cover:  It made me think of Maya Angelou's I Know Why The Caged Bird Sing which I read in junior high.  The idea of this story, if I remember correctly it's about how we can still feel free even in the midst of  a life that seams anything but.   Grace for the Good Girl brings up the issue of how "good girl"  has  been prompted to please everyone; be the best at everything you do.  It reminds me that we are saved by grace, not by works.  I grew up trying to be the ultimate "good girl"  In fact my nick name in  college was "Mother Teresa" or "MT" for short.  I obtained this nick name because the first semester of my freshmen year I went to a retreat where the matter of church attendance came up. I said (and I'm sure I said it agronantly) that I ALWAYS went to church!  Well, a mere 5 years later, I could no longer say that.  In fact, I no longer belong to the same denomination.  It wasn't that I felt like I was better than anyone else, it's just that truly felt  that that was what you were suppose to m ;kado:  You were suppose to go to church every Sunday;  you were suppose to do you best at everything; you weresuppose to be a "good girl"  
     I think a lot of this goes back to how I was raised, but more importantly was how I processed how I  was raised.  I was (am) sensitive person and I truly feel guilty when I do something wrong, even when it's an accident.  I even feel guilty at times over my Ceberal Palsy; as if I can control it.  This also incorporated what society and the world defines a "good girl." .  The world concentrates and promotes perfection, it feels like you have an automatic strike on you back because you are different from the norm.
     I think what I got most out of reading Grace for the Good Girl was that its OK that I'm not .  God did not intend for me to be perfect and in fact its my imperfections that will draw me closer to Him.

He Really Did Die For Me~ 2012

This past weekend my best friend, Becki and I went to a women's retreat.  This retreat is awesome and truly is one of the highlights of our year.  It's just nice to get away with her and other women for a weekend without kids and husband to just relax and grow closer to God and each other.  It's one of the highlights of our year.  For me the best and most revealing part of the weekend came Saturday night.  The evening meeting was down at the lake.  The path down to the lake was a very steep and fractured slab of concrete.  I was in my scooter and was doing OK until I hit a rough spot and almost flipped over.  I get parked in the grass and quickly turn the scooter off  because I'm afraid if I touch it in any way I'll end off in the lake topic was sin and forgiveness.  At the beginning of the session, the had given us each a piece of cheese clothe (I think that's what it was).  We were to write on it something we were struggling, then walk it down to a table that had some red liquid on it- they said the liquid would dissolve the ink.  After this we were to take a white rose and place the petals in the lake.  I was not going to attempt this; in fact I was seriously considering just sitting in my scooter on that hill for the rest of my life.  So Becki took mine for me.  I watched enviously at this beautiful of all these women preforming the symbolic act it accrued to me; Jesus did what I could not do.  He took up the cross and died for me!  There was never even a chance that I could produce my own salvation.  Now, I've been a Christian all my life, but this hit me like block on the head.  Too often we try to take charge of our own life.  We don't want ta appear week.  I hate to think off all the blessings I've missed our on simply because I was too stubborn to surrender to God.  I've always  been very independent; in some ways I fear  I'm loosing more and more of my independence every day.  I believe with all my heart that God gave me such a strong will and independence to help me succeed, even survive.  However, as I get older and have to rely on others - and on God - I'm truly starting to see how much  God loves me.  He love truly did die for me

A Few Crippled Mama Tips

very now and then I like share a couple of tips about living with a disability and some  ways I do stuff.  

This first picture I tried to share a few weeks ago and I uploaded it to my blog on my phone and for some reason its showing in my blog on my phone, but not on the compute.

I was making tea one night and I didn't want to spill the mix (like I usually do).  So first I hung the measuring cup on the picture, but it was too top heavy.  Then I hung it on the divider in the sink.  Worked out perfect; its less likely to spill and if it does spill,  I just wash the sink out.

 I LOVE THIS ONE!!!  Dalton helped me clean the kitchen last week and we got rid of the spice carousal.  I didn't want to throw it away, so I decided it'd make a great pill  bottle holder.  I'm probably not the first one to think of this, but its a great idea.

Barrett: My One True Love ~ A Post from 2014

Last week was Valentine's Day.  Needless to say this isn't Barrett's favorite holiday.  However, he did surprise me with lunch and this beautiful rose.  

Growing I fell into the trap that many women (and men too, I suppose)  fall into, that February 14th is the most romantic day of the year.  When I was single, I longed to be with someone on this day above all days because I wanted to feel special and loved.

Some of you know the story of how Barrett and I met, but if you don't, here it is:

In May of 1997, I took a 2 week philosophy class.  It had to be one of the hardest classes I ever took.  We were in class 6 hours a day five days a week.  At this point Barrett was doing morning news at WGNS.  So, he would come to the building the class was in about an hour before class.  Soon I found myself getting ther early too, just to talk to him.

I had just been rejected by a guy, and I had started truly praying to meet someone.  I didn't want just someone to "date", I wanted someone I could build a life with.  Many of my friends were getting married and starting their "adult" lives, if  you will and I longed for this too. 

Within 2 weeks of knowing Barrett, I knew this was the guy I would marry.  Everyone thought I was cray.  There was only one slight problem; Barrett just wanted to be "friends".  (Oh, BTW, never tell a guy after 2 weeks of knowing him that you love him and you want to spend the rest of your life with him; it may not be received too well.  Just saying). 

So, we began our year of "friendship".  We went out a couple times of week, we spoke on the phone for hours at night.  I spent hours praying and crying myself to sleep at night; hoping that one day he might love me as much as I loved him.

Looking back, I'm so thankful to God for giving us this year of friendship to really get to know each other.  I can truly say, I married my best friend!

Valentine Day 1998 was bitter sweet.  I was in my last year of college.  I was taking 15 hours, plus doing an internship at Domestic Violence.  I was sick and exhausted most of the time.  On Valentine Day, Barrett took me to Crackle Barrel.  No, he didn't confess his dying love to me, but he did get me this throw that I'd had my eye on.

 

In May, a year after we 

Barrett ~ My One True Love

Last week was Valentine's Day.  Needless to say this isn't Barrett's favorite holiday.  However, he did surprise me with lunch and this beautiful rose.  

Growing I fell into the trap that many women (and men too, I suppose)  fall into, that February 14th is the most romantic day of the year.  When I was single, I longed to be with someone on this day above all days because I wanted to feel special and loved.

Some of you know the story of how Barrett and I met, but if you don't, here it is:

In May of 1997, I took a 2 week philosophy class.  It had to be one of the hardest classes I ever took.  We were in class 6 hours a day five days a week.  At this point Barrett was doing morning news at WGNS.  So, he would come to the building the class was in about an hour before class.  Soon I found myself getting ther early too, just to talk to him.

I had just been rejected by a guy, and I had started truly praying to meet someone.  I didn't want just someone to "date", I wanted someone I could build a life with.  Many of my friends were getting married and starting their "adult" lives, if  you will and I longed for this too. 

Within 2 weeks of knowing Barrett, I knew this was the guy I would marry.  Everyone thought I was cray.  There was only one slight problem; Barrett just wanted to be "friends".  (Oh, BTW, never tell a guy after 2 weeks of knowing him that you love him and you want to spend the rest of your life with him; it may not be received too well.  Just saying). 

So, we began our year of "friendship".  We went out a couple times of week, we spoke on the phone for hours at night.  I spent hours praying and crying myself to sleep at night; hoping that one day he might love me as much as I loved him.

Looking back, I'm so thankful to God for giving us this year of friendship to really get to know each other.  I can truly say, I married my best friend!

Valentine Day 1998 was bitter sweet.  I was in my last year of college.  I was taking 15 hours, plus doing an internship at Domestic Violence.  I was sick and exhausted most of the time.  On Valentine Day, Barrett took me to Crackle Barrel.  No, he didn't confess his dying love to me, but he did get me this throw that I'd had my eye on.

In May, a year after we met he did say he loved me and we were married in November. It'll be 17 years this may since we met.  WOW!!!  Does Barrett always love me like I think he should? No 

Do I always love him like he thinks I should?  NO.  However, I know that if we continual to love the Lord and let Him grow our marriage, it will be very successfulmet he did say he loved me and we were married in November. It'll be 17 years this may since we met.  WOW!!!  Does Barrett always love me like I think he should? No 
Do I always love him like he thinks I should?  NO.  However, I know that if we continual to love the Lord and let Him grow our marriage, it will be very successful

Comparing Myself To Others

Why do we compare ourselves to others?  It’s funny that our society has most people playing tug-of-war with our self: We are to find our own uniqueness, yet we are to do it within expectations.  It’s ok to be different, as long as it kept within our little box.  WHAT???  This is a bit confusing isn’t it?  So is it any wonder that we have people walking around not sure what to do?  Have joy in being unique, but do it while conforming to others.

        We all have expectations put on us.  As a disabled woman, some people are really surprised that I’m married and have two kids.  It’s acceptable that I went to college and got my degree.  Good for you.  But you found someone to love you.   WOW!  The first question people asked is; “Is he disabled too?”  (Now, before I go on let me just say I’m all for disabled people marrying whomever they choose.)  But a lot of time people assume that because I’m disabled then my husband must be disabled too.  He is not.  So, obviously we do not have a typical marriage in some ways, while in others it’s very typical. I’m a stay-at-home-mom.  It’s my job to the “normal” mom things; keep the house clean, do laundry, do the shopping, make meals etc.  I may not do things the same way that “non-disabled” moms do but my kids and husband know that I love them and care for them. 

        I can remember when my kids were newborns and people would come to visit and want to pace with them back and forth to sooth them.  I had to ask people to please not do this.  I wasn’t trying to be mean or ungrateful, but I didn’t want the kids to get used to this,  because I knew I couldn’t pace with them, and as their primary care giver, I knew this couldn’t be one their comfort mechanism that I could offer them. 

        Conforming isn't always bad.  I love being a wife and mother.  But I tend to compare myself too often with those women who don’t have my physical challenges and start thinking things like; “A good mama can drive and she goes to all her son’s basketball games”, or “A good mama can teach her daughter how to sew”.  I let what is expected of a normal mother dictate how I’m supposed to be a mother, all the while forgetting on slight detail – I’m not “normal”.  Uhm, oh yeah!  It can be very easy to fall into that trap of if you aren’t like the norm, then you’re not good enough.  This is a lie from Satan. 

        Once I realize that I cannot live up to this standard, that’s when I can allow my uniqueness to step in and help me to adapt and do stuff the way the way I need to in order to be that good wife and mother that I want to be.

Made To Be Holy

To be made holy is to be set apart by God for a specific purpose.

I have been deemed set apart by God for a specific purpose.

Does this make me holy?

 I’m a nobody.  I’m just a crippled middle aged woman in Middle Tennessee.  I’ve never done anything amazing.  My name is not known all over the world.  I don’t make life altering decisions every day that can make or break people.  I’m not a doctor with the next big cure.  I’m not a political leader with some grand suggestion for world peace.  I don’t have a solution to feed hungry kids, or to make parents love their children, nor can I make husbands and wife stay in a marriage where everyone and everything else says throw in the towel.

I’m no one, remember?

But, what if I have been set apart God for a specific purpose?

Leviticus 19:2  ^says, “Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them: ‘Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.’”

It’s easy for us in our human state to doubt that we can be holy because…

       “I’m crippled…”

        “My parents abandoned me…”

        “My spouse rejected me…”

         “I’m overweight…”

This list can go on forever.  It’s been said that if you’re looking for an excuse; you’ll always find one.  But, our holiness has nothing to do with us, but everything to do with God: We are holy because He is holy.

Too often we think that God can’t use us because of our brokenness.  But in all reality, it is through our brokenness that God does use us.  Honestly, I do not know if I’d be a Christian if I wasn’t disabled.  My parents weren’t going to church when I was born.  When it was time for me to start school, they found a Catholic school that was just for disabled students.  My parents choose to put me in there rather than a public school where I would have probably been place into a special education class.

Uhm, set apart…

God knew.  My disability didn’t take Him by surprise.  While I don’t think He caused me to be disabled, I do think He allowed in for my good and for His glory.   Romans 8:28 tells us; “We know that all things work God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” 

 Somehow, my problems and your problems will all reveal God’s glory.  And I don’t have to do anything but get out of His way.  Ahh, but I’m stubborn.  I what people to see what I’ve done; to be impressed with the progress I’ve made.  What about me?  This is my life and I deserve the credit of what happens in my life.  Right.

I tell my kids all the time; “This is my life, I just let you live here.”  OK maybe not the best example.  But, we were created by God to have a relationship with God.  Luke 19:40 says (after Jesus was told by the Pharisees to rebuke His disciples), “’I tell you’ He replied, ‘If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.’”  Wow, if I don’t praise God and give Him glory, the rocks will do it in my place!  I don’t want to miss out on praise and glorifying God.  He made me who I am.  He created me in my mother’s womb.  He choose my parents and my siblings.  He choose Bryan Barrett to be my husband and Dalton and Bobbye Sue to be our children.  I don’t know why He chose to bless me, but He did.

If I’d not been disabled I doubt I’d ever gone to college. I’d never met Barrett or have had these two wonderful kids. 

Yes, I know I’m holy and have been set apart by God for a specific purpose.  Have you?