Life's roadways

Author: (excerpt from "Within My Power" by Forest Witcraft)
One hundred years from now
It won't matter
What kind of car I drove
What kind of house I lived in
How much money I had in the bank
Nor what my cloths looked like
BUT
The world may be a little better
Because, I was important
In the life of a child.

Long before I had children, I was an advocate for them. Working with families who were broken or torn was a passion of mine. Getting to see families heal and repair was a joy. Working with children in foster care was especially a soft spot in my heart. Standing up for children who could not stand up for themselves was done early in my career, and later at various pregnancy crisis centers as I aged and had my own children. Once, I believed that a woman had a choice. Then I became pregnant with my first child and knew, I could never agree with that way of life again, for me.

Our family is embarking on a new journey. One that will be based soley on the will of God. It's HIS time for us. I can't wait to see what happens.

Rememberance

Several times a year I get into a reflective mood. On my boy's birthdays, my anniversary, birthday, ect....one day stands out as well for the past ten years. That of 9/11/01. The day the world seemed to stand still. Only it didn't. Yes, planes didn't fly and many people received the most horrible of news; that a loved one was gone. But on that day, life continued, yet it was changed. Ten years later, I have an almost 12 year old, and a 9 year old who are asking some serious questions. Why? Who? How? Where were you? Where was I? Will it happen again? Why didn't God protect us? How do we live knowing that any day, any moment may be our last?
I think as I am in the midst of this 21 days of praying for my sons that it is appropriate that these questions come. And that I try to answer them as honestly as I can. The "where were you" "where was I" questions are easy. The ones my 9 year old asks are different: "How did something so horrible make you want to have another baby, to bring another life into the world? And then 4 years later, do it again?" Those questions and the "Are the people who did this bad people who will automatically go to hell?" questions get to me. How do I explain that we all have choices to make, that those who did these horrible acts upon the US are to be prayed for, not hated. That everything we have done in the past 10 years for our troops, dear friends of ours, children of friends, new friends, or complete strangers, have been done to support those who put their lives on the line for us back home.
I admit, my kids see me cry. They know the pain I went through on Sept 11, 2001. They know the heart wrenching fear, emptiness, and heartbreak I felt. I do not hide it. They know my experience was different than those who were safe at home, loved ones in their arms. They also know that those who lived close by, those who sent their loved ones to help, have a different story as well. As a picture is painted of people jumping, lives on planes lost, security measures, changes, death, hopelessness; so arise the stories of strength, selflessness, courage, compassion, love, and strength.
So to my 11 year old, I say how much I love him. How being away from him causes this ache in my body that only having him within reach fulfills. How seeing his small body through the window of my parents house a week later than expected will be forever etched in my memory. How I never want to feel that empty arm syndrome again.
To my 9 year old, I tell a story of love and hope. How the next month after these horrible attacks, his Daddy and I wanted his brother to have a sibling. Someone to call in the dark of the night. Someone to exist with that has the same history, the same story. Someone to look out for each other. How having him in our lives, reminded us that good things can come out of the bad. Life continues. Love will prevail. And the goodness of God comes in the smallest of packages. In the form of a child, fearfully made within a womb. A child with a purpose. A child who would know no different.
To my 4 year old who doesn't grasp what his brothers do. Who flits and dances to songs that make his Momma cry, and his brothers hug her close. Who is untouched by the badness of life. Who cries out: "I love my family!" at whim and knows, no matter what, he is adored.

So, I am continuing to pray for my sons. As well as the sons and daughters of my heart who serve overseas. May you all come home to us safely. To the arms of those who love you. We remember. We know what you are fighting for. And I, for one, am eternally thankful.

Obedience

Ah, the crux of it all. Teaching my children to obey me for daily things is difficult, let alone obey the word of God. I struggle with discipline on a daily, heck, hourly basis. How can I teach them to do things when I sometimes lose control myself? How can I live each moment, within that moment, and not take to heart my own feelings of irritation, subjegation, and testing to know when are teachable moments, and when they should just do what I say when I say it? My husband, as a former marine, tells the boys often that discipline is instant obedience to direction. And they do instantly obey him. But not me. I ask. I ask again. I ask louder. I ask even louder. Then I take something away and the whole time, I am frustrated and they have no idea I have asked 4 times before. What am I doing different? I guess it boils down to the fact that I need to learn to obey God more, before I can teach my sons to obey God more. I better get to work!

Praying for my boys...day one

Day one: Heart Change
“The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” ~Luke 6:45

Today I am praying for my boys to have hearts for God. I will pray for them in the morning as I usually do when I wake up. Only my prayers will be more concentrated towards their hearts being open and remaining open to our Lord instead of my usual.."Please God, help me to yell less and listen more to my sons today." I will pray for them through the day, which I do often with thanksgiving. And pray with them at night, which we do every night. The only thing I do not do with my boys are daily devotionals. I'm wondering if I need to get some of those daily bread books and begin this tradition as well.

The battle for our sons to be Godly men is best fought on our knees, Brooke says, and I think I agree.
We'll see what tomorrow brings!

21 Days of Prayers for Sons

Today I am embarking upon my first round of 21 days of prayers for sons. Brooke McGlothin has written a book that I have not had the chance to read: Warrior Prayers: Praying the Word for Boys in the Areas They Need it Most that takes you as a parent on a journey to praying the Word for our sons. As the mother to all boys, I am intriqued by how this will all go. Some women find it challenging to parent their boys. I, myself, find it a challenge to parent at all. Sometimes I feel this is another way to divide our sons from our daughters instead of just combining them as our "children" and praying for them this way. But I am willing to remain open to see if there truly are issues that only boys deal with. In my heart, I know there are (jock straps, peeing standing up, girls....) but are there REALLY issues that divide our children when it comes to raising them to be godly children and then adults. All I know is that I want what every parent wants for their children. For them to grow healthy, happy, strong, self sufficient, unmarred by my parenting skills, but overwhelmed with the love I have for each of them. So, here I go. Jumping in with both feet as I pray for my boys, for the boys of my wonderful group of Raising All Boys boys, and for my friends dear to my heart who are also in this amazing boat of raising boys in today's world. Each of you are in my thoughts, and your boys are in my prayers. If you have special prayers for your sons, please let me know so I can include them. :)