What more men need to hear

We see it too often. Good Christian couples - strong marriage, heavy involvement in ministry, excited about God's work, they seem to have it all together. Until the one day that the tapestry of their life unravels and they choose the lie of the world rather than the truth they have so publicly upheld. Some time ago, I heard a story of one such couple where the husband strayed, but the road to divorce was blocked by words of experience and wisdom from his father. What a blessing that father was to his son!

Since then I have longed to write that story, so that others could read it and understand. So that perhaps another marriage could be saved. Today I felt the overwhelming need to get over my fear of trying and failing and just start typing. So I did.

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The Rest of Your Life

John sat quietly, listening intently to his son who stood beside him at the kitchen table. Disbelief, grief, and anger flooded through him as he stared down at the grain in the wood, but the strongest feeling was guilt. Ultimately, the decision was Jeff's and Jeff's alone, but John knew that his own actions years before had paved this road his son was now traveling.

Jeff paused in his monologue and John spoke into the silence. "So you've made your decision. You're leaving your wife, your children, and you're moving in with this other woman."

Jeff shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing impatiently at his father. "Things haven't be all that great with Beth for awhile. When I met Grace, we just...clicked. Before we knew it, we had fallen in love." He paused, then forged ahead, "I can't live with one woman when I'm in love with another. That's hardly fair to anyone."

John finally looked up and locked eyes with his son. He had to fix this and he knew he had only this one chance. "Sit down, son," he said, waving his hand toward the chair at the other end of the table. Jeff hesitated for a moment, but then pulled out the chair and sat, fiddling absently with the mail that lay in front of him. John closed his eyes and sent up a silent, desperate prayer for just the right words.

"Let me tell you what the rest of your life is going to look like," John said. "20 years ago I left your mom, you, your brothers, and your sister. I had found someone else and I thought I was in love. So I know what you're feeling and how you're rationalizing your decision. And I know what's coming for you."

"You said this other woman has kids and that she's already left her husband so she can be with you. Once you two start living together, those rose-colored glasses aren't going to last too long. It won't be the excitement of an affair and it won't be a honeymoon and before you know it, she'll be nagging you to hang up your towel and you'll be complaining about the fourth mystery casserole in a week. Her kids will hate you for what you did to their family and you'll be tiptoeing around every minute they're staying with you. You'll begin to dread every evening when you walk through that door and you'll be wishing for the life you had before."

John could see the anger flaring up in his son's eyes. "Now wait a minute, Dad!" Jeff started.

John interrupted, "No, I want you to hear me out before you start defending yourself and telling me how it's going to be different for you and that woman."

"Her name is Grace, Dad," Jeff interjected fiercely.

"Grace, then." John conceded. "I thought the same thing. I was in love with Jill when I left your mom to be with her, but it didn't last. It can't last. The whole relationship was built on an illusion created by a few stolen moments and reality tore all that down in a hurry. You see, we could never trust each other. After all, cheating is what brought us together and the possibility of it happening again was always there. Anytime I was 10 minutes late or happened to hang up the phone when she entered the room, she accused me of cheating. And I'm not proud that I did the same thing to her."

John paused and saw a tiny spark of fear in the middle of Jeff's anger. It looked like at least some of what he said was getting through. "And then there's your own kids," he continued. "You say Beth has agreed to frequent visitation. Your kids are young and they have to do what you and the courts tell them, but they will hate you just like that other woman's kids hate you. Their behavior will change, they will test every limit and challenge every decision, and they'll probably need counseling to deal with everything and you will have done that to them. Their whole world is turning upside-down because of your choice and don't tell me that you'll still be an active and involved parent. You'll see your kids once or twice a week for awhile, then they'll start sports and other stuff and they won't have the time or the desire to be with you."

"The absolute worst part is that you will stand on the sidelines and watch Beth, the wife you gave up, come to love someone else. She'll get married and her new husband will be the one living in your house and raising your kids. They'll start calling him Dad and he'll be the one playing catch after school and greeting your daughter's first date at the front door. They'll resent their visits to your house because it's taking them away from their 'real' family. You will be an afterthought - a card at Christmas and a call on your birthday. And it will never change. Think about it. How often have you and Beth brought the grandkids over to see me and how often have you taken them to your mother's?"

John voice grew husky, the unshed tears shining in his eyes. He leaned across the table toward his son. "Leaving your mother was the biggest mistake of my life. It only took me a couple of weeks to realize it and I went back to your mom and begged her to forgive me and let me come home. But it was already too late. She had already burned that bridge and wasn't willing to risk my breaking her heart again." He pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his face.

"You have a beautiful, loving, Godly wife waiting for you at home. You have three beautiful children who will follow in your footsteps. Don't throw that away to chase after a fantasy. Don't let your daughters grow up with the idea that she can't trust a man's promise of forever and don't show your son that when things get uncomfortable, it's okay to walk away. Don't end up empty and alone - like me."

Across the table, Jeff had his face buried in his hands. His father watched as he trembled, breathing heavily. The chair scraped across the worn linoleum as John stood up and walked over to his son, placing his hand on Jeff's shoulder. In a voice choked with emotion, Jeff asked, "What have I done? What do I do?" the muffled words full of desperation.

John answered, a sense of purpose giving strength to his words. "You go home, you confess, and you beg for your wife's forgiveness. You go together to a marriage counselor and you find a friend who will hold your feet to the fire as you get back on the straight and narrow." He leaned over, speaking directly as his son slowly raised his head and met his piercing, loving gaze. "Yes, it will be hard and there will be a lot to work out and a lot of changes to be made for both of you. But never, ever doubt that it's worth it."

*****

John watched as his son walked quickly down the path to his car and drove away, headed home to begin the difficult task of reconciliation. There was so much work still to do. Would they make it? Would their marriage recover? His heart was heavy as he turned and shuffled back toward the kitchen. No, wait. He changed his course and sat down in his old recliner, reaching for the worn Bible that he kept on the cluttered end table. With his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, John turned the pages to James 5.

16Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective...19My brothers, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring him back, 20remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.

John bowed his head and removed his reading glasses. "Lord, I come to You on behalf of Jeff and Beth..."

I'm a Cool Rock Star

No, really. I *am* a Cool Rock Star. Shari told me so and she has a degree, people! Plus years of experience behind all that fabulous exterior and expertise.

Naturally, this calls for a shopping trip of major proportions since my wardrobe is way more "mom" than "rock".

Oh wait, I don't have that rock star income. Phooey. I guess I'll just have to spread it out over a long time. A very long time.

So what does a Cool Rock Star wear?

She wears black and white. Strong colors, but nothing with yellow or orange tones and she has to be *very* careful with the greens because there's nothing less appealing than a Cool Rock Star that looks like she's about to hurl. Hot pink is always her friend along with silver jewelry and really big, bold accessories. After all, a cool Rock Star needs BIG patterns and BIG stuff to match her BIG........ahem!...personality.

If you haven't figured it out, Shari is a fashion consultant that spoke at our MOPS meeting last night. She took the time to tell every mom there what clothing, colors, and accessories best suited her natural coloring and build. I got a chance to chat with her for awhile after the meeting and under that polished image is a funny, friendly, mountain-sized personality that was a blast to talk to and laugh with. Yep, it was truly a night of inspiration.

So in honor of the upcoming swimsuit season, head over to her website and check out her tips on how to find the *perfect swimwear* here.

Linking to Lysa

I read a lot of blogs and have been blessed and challenged by many different posts. Today I read a very good post on how God reaches down and touches our life at Lysa TerKeurst's blog.

Go here to read it. You'll be glad you did. After all, a post titled "God is in the Bathroom" has got to be good.

A perfect day at the zoo

Late Sunday evening, I put a couple of things by the stairs that I planned to take on our trip to the zoo. Early Monday morning, the girls had added to it so much that there was a looooong line of stuff waiting to go the car. After vetoing half their submissions, we still had enough for a weekend vacation, rather than a day trip to a city about 1 1/2 hours from home. After a stop at the church to get coordinated, 3 moms and 6 kids got on the road with all the movies, snacks, and toys required for sanity.

We got to the zoo only to discover that they were repairing the train tracks outside the "zoo" entrance so we had to get back on the interstate and go round to the "garden" entrance. It had taken so long to get there that the very first thing we did when we arrived was...

Eat lunch.

We had 6 small children that were *starving* (in spite of the multitude of snacks consumed in the vans) and couldn't possible last long enough to see a couple of animals first. It worked out well, though, so the kids were ready to conquer the whole zoo right after.

And conquer we did! The weather was PERFECT and the animals were out and active and several came right up close. We had such fun watching the elephants, one even took a mud bath by sucking up muddy water in it's trunk and sending it flying over it's belly and back. The kids ran and played and got along very well.

I had printed off some of the zoo's field trip assignments and it was so cute to watch as the oldest ones ran around with their clipboards and pencils and circling all the animals as they saw them.

I posted some photos on flickr here, but it's my first foray into that foreign territory so forgive me if it's a little wonky.

It was after 4 when we finally got back to the cars. I didn't get to see the gardens, but I don't think they were much in bloom yet, so I may have to go back soon. I stopped to grab dinner as we raced back home so K could get to her softball practice. Even going straight to the fields, we were pretty late. Amazingly, K was an absolutely different child than showed up for practice Saturday. She ran everywhere and acted excited to be there, listening carefully to the coaches and running off the field afterward declaring it all as "FUN!" Crazy how a little activity can make a big difference.

After a day of shorts and sun, the skies are hidden behind thick clouds and they're predicting storms and tornadoes. Yep, it's spring. I'm glad we got out and enjoyed it while we could!

And there was much groaning and moaning

I don't know if you remember, but spring softball has started. K's first practice was Saturday afternoon, so we repeated the lunch at Bojangles (cause it was mighty tasty last Saturday) before heading to the ballfields.

The first thing I noticed as we found the spot where the girls were gathering is that there's a whole lot more talent and coaches on that grass than last year. Then the head coach had a parent meeting where he explained his strategy for teaching the girls skills and that while he would be positive and supportive, he was fairly competitive. Yep, we've definitely moved up to the good team this year.

The second thing I noticed is that K was dragging like she hadn't slept in a week. She was making *me* tired just watching her sloth-like movements. I finally pulled her aside and told her that if she couldn't put a little more speed and enthusiasm into her play, then I was going to make her run bases after practice was over. It worked for about 3.45 seconds, but she just couldn't get it together. So after practice we went to find an empty field.

Now, I know that it's from a winter of being cooped up inside and not getting enough exercise. But she still needed to understand that if she doesn't put forth any effort during practice, she will have to afterwards. We started with practicing running through first base, but she couldn't *not* slowdown before she reached the bag. So I started running with her to make her keep up. And I ran...and ran...and wanted to pass out...and wanted to be a good example so I kept running.

K's not the only one who's been inactive all winter. After all that exercise yesterday, I can not MOVE tonight. I had all kinds of resolutions Saturday to get everyone moving more this week and I even have a day at the zoo with friends planned for tomorrow, so it looks like I'll have *plenty* of opportunity to work out all this stiffness while feeding giraffes and observing the behavior of lorikeets.

Now if only I can motivate myself to go put together our lunch and pack the backpack tonight.

The Sacrifices of a Mother

Tonight after dinner, K asked if she could make something out of clay.

Sure! No problem! Just remember that you have to clean up anything you take out.

So K finished up a few little projects and reminded me of one tiny fact I forgot. You have to bake this clay.

Sigh.

Of course, she told me this as I was standing in the kitchen just about to pull out the enormous tub of cookie dough and bake up some gooey, warm, chocolatey chocolate chip cookies. And the oven settings were different. So I couldn't bake them at the same time. Phooey.

Then I did what any selfless, loving mother would do. I put the clay in the oven, rationalizing that by the time the clay was done and the cookies were finally baked, K would be in bed and that would leave more cookies for me and Mr. at Home.

Yep, selfless.

Today at the Christian bookstore

I found 2 copies of THE BOOK. You know, the one with a pink cover and white script reading "I'm Glad I'm a Mom". It was there. I pulled it off the shelf, gleefully flipping to page 29 as I held it up for Mr. at Home and the at Home children to admire. I had to explain to the curious salespeople that the name on page 29 is *my name* and they were all eager to read the story for themselves.

If you haven't run out to buy the book yet, don't worry. The store said that their distributors are reporting that the printing ran late and they don't have copies yet. The publisher sent 2 copies directly to the store, so they had those 2, but it might be a little while before they get restocked. I freely admit that I bought one of those copies since my packet from Hearts at Home won't arrive until after their conference in a couple of weeks. So I had the thrill of seeing my name in print *and* I possess the proof. Between softball practice and other Saturday obligations (you know, like sitting on my duff and playing on the computer), I've gotten halfway through the book and the other stories are fabulous.

It has whetted an appetite in me and brought to mind other funny and tender moments that would make great stories. But even now, if I never got another thing published, I'd be okay with that. I don't have the ambition to become a household name, pouring myself into writing so that my family suffers. I'm happy right where God has placed me.