There was a time in my life where I would sit on my slanted living room floor, peeling linoleum beneath me, and counted pennies to make rent.  For many months I sat there rubbing my rounded belly wondering if this would always be the case; if one day I would enlist the help of my son to help me roll quarters in an effort to go get groceries.

Pride and stubborness has always hindered me; still does, if I’m being honest.  But I remember going to my first doctor visit and explaining to them that I didn’t have insurance.  Self-pay cost $1,000 and I knew I would find a way to pay that, even if it meant picking up an extra shift or two at the restaurant where I worked.  Even though they continually told me I could go and get on Medic-aid, I was too proud; there was no way…I thought I was above that.

Five months into my pregnancy, we knew we were having a little boy.  Money was tight and I wasn’t able to wait tables like I used to.  The majority of my shifts, on the weekends anyway, were spent at the hostess station.  While I liked hosting, the pay was minimum wage and much, much less than I could clear on a Saturday night serving.  My finance had been promoted to head server and trainer and while the promotion was great for him, it meant training new people on a Saturday night, and even though his hourly wage was more than the minimum, it was still far less than he could clear serving.

The time came where we had no choice but to go and request government assistance and it pained me.  Living in Philadelphia, the assistance office was in a not-so-great part of town.  Justin took me, and I remember removing my engagement ring before we walked into the building.  It was the only time I took it off, ever, until the day that we separated.

These were the days before Google, but I had a whole staff of servers and customers who told me how to work the system, and while I’m not proud of what I did, it became survival of the fittest.  You see, when you request government assistance (and I’m not sure if it’s the same way now) they want to make sure they are getting what is owed to them.  At least that’s how it was there in the City of Brotherly Love.  In order for me to get on Medic-aid, they wanted to know who the father was so that they could recoup child support - even though we were together and planning on getting married.  It seemed very silly, but it’s the way that it was.

I remember looking around at those that waited to be called, to pick up a check, or to go through the motions of gaining assistance as well.  I remember wondering what their situations were — were they people who truly needed assistance like I did, or if they were the type of person to have another child just to get more welfare money.

I hated being there.  I hated admitting that I couldn’t handle this on my own.  I hated not being able to give my child what he needed, myself.

I’ll also never forget the interview process where the lady asked me who the father was of my baby and I replied with, “I don’t know.”  Sweet Jesus, forgive me for that lie.  I have always wondered what she thought of me; if she thought that I just slept around and how I could get knocked up and not know who the father was.  In reality, she probably heard it alot and was used to it and I was no different than any other.

I walked out of that office that day knowing that the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania would pay for Matthew’s birth.  I declined the offer for food stamps and the welfare checks.  I just wanted to make sure that the hospital would take me in when I came to them in labor.  I just wanted to make sure that they would give my baby the same treatment as the others who were able to pay the real way.  In my 19-year-old mind, I believed that a self-pay baby would be neglected, a medic-aid baby would get a little better treatment, but those with real insurance got the best.  Like I said, I was 19.

I cried all the way home on that SEPTA bus from the “badlands” back to the kinda badlands where I lived.  The bus route drove through Society Hill and as I gazed out of the windows, through the tears, I looked at those brownstones, knowing one day, I would live there.  One day, I wouldn’t have to worry about insurance or money or getting the best care at the hospital. One day I’d also have a car, because it would’ve been alot better to carry on a conversation through the tears in a car, rather than on a public bus with all the germs and people listening to your conversations.

One day…

Here we are almost 12 years later and my how my world has changed.  Yes, I promised myself that one day I would live in a fancy house… but it’s not today, and quite honestly, I’m not sure now that I want to.  My house is the “white trash” house as I like to call it.  It’s not fancy, it needs alot of work, but it’s shelter for the kids and I.

We have insurance that I pay for myself, but quite honestly, the Medic-aid that I had for 2 years with Matthew was 10x better.  But that’s okay.  I can pay for it.  I have the ability to do that.

I have that car.  Again, not the best, but paid for and it runs.

And up until Monday, I wasn’t counting pennies to buy groceries or make rent.

Today?

I’m dealing with the bank trying to take the last of the money that I have and get it into some account, any account, that I can draw from so that I don’t have to carry cash with me.  I’m pleading with the teller as I hand her the last check that I have, one that I, thankfully, forgot to deposit, to make sure that whatever she does with that check that I have access to the money.

All over again, I became aware of what I have — monetarily.

And in that one split second at the bank, I realized at least one reason this has happened to me.

I take for granted what I have.  I live for material items whether they be video game systems for the kids, computer paraphernalia for me, name brand clothes and food.  For so long I desired to have the best of the best because I had nothing.  I’ve worked hard, made a lot of mistakes, but I can tell you that my yearly salary is three times what I was making just 12 years ago.  You would never know it.  I am the typical, spend what you make kinda gal.

The funny thing is, when we were dirt poor, my husband and I were so happy, so close.  It was when we started making money and having money that we began to drift apart.  I’ve noticed now that I’m in this situation with my accounts on hold that the kids and I are drawing closer together.  We’re working together.  They aren’t asking for extra toys at the store and they are okay with it.  They know that we just don’t have the money, not right now.  I’m okay with not stopping by Starbucks for a $4 coffee.  I’m being careful with my money.

See, I have everything that I need, right now.  No, we don’t have any potato chips and it sucks.  But we don’t need them.  And it’s okay.

God’s shown some great favor to me today by way of credits in my accounts, an extrememly cheap rental car to get to my mom’s on Sunday, and things generally just working out.

I am blessed…not because of my net worth, but because I am a child of God.  He will never leave me nor forsake me and I truly believe this is a test and I’m passing with flying colors.

Until next time…

Heather

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I want to tell you about the Easter basket cookies that I made for Friend Day at church…and how I didn’t burn them and how cute they were and how good I felt for being so domestic…

I also want to tell you about the date that I had…and how much fun I had and how nice it was to feel like a princess and not a mom or a youth leader…

I’d like to tell you about Matthew’s performance tonight in the All County Choir and how handsome he looked, and how well he sang, and how proud I was to be his mother…

I would also like to share with you how I found a ring that I thought was gone forever and how I found it yesterday…and how grateful I was and how amazing it was that I found it… in a place that I thought I had looked a million times…

And then there’s our field trip tomorrow to Washington, DC that I’d love to tell you about and how we get to get up at 4:30 in the morning so that we can be to the school by 5:15 so that we can leave by 5:30.. these would all be AM… we’ll get back sometime around midnight…

Yes, I’d love to tell you all about these things… but they will have to wait.

I listed the good things that happened to me first, because I need you to know that I know how wonderfully blessed that I am.

However, Sunday night, while I sat here on my couch watching Sydney White with my children (it was good, rent it) someone hacked into my PayPal account. I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t click on any links. I know that the kids don’t know my password, but somehow, someway, someone or ones got in there.

And in two hours, just two, almost $3,000 was taken from me.

Yesterday, only $1300 had posted but by 5pm today the rest (despite the bank’s and PayPal’s reassurances) were sitting in my pending transactions and my checking account severely in the red.

I’m not telling you this because I want money (because I don’t)… I have money. It just so happens that I have a pretty large check sitting on my desk that I forgot to deposit yesterday when I was at the bank making sure everything was taken care of… think the Lord made me forget? I do.

But in addition to the PayPal mess, yesterday I also dropped my brand new, only had it a month, cell phone… 6 inches… seriously… and it’s broken. I probably wouldn’t mind except I heart my Treo and it’s expensive and it’s a company phone.

So I called down to the stations and I asked them to send me a new one after explaining what happened. They overnighted one to me so that I would have a means of communication tomorrow while I am in DC with one child while another remains in Roanoke.

It arrived today.

It doesn’t work.

Go figure.

I did go out last night. I went dancing. I had an amazing time. I felt so alive. Not once yesterday did I get discouraged about what was happening. I knew it would all work itself out. I knew that I would be okay. People commented on how well I was handling this. Because really? What would crying accomplish? I also think that the prayers from Karen yesterday helped, even though I didn’t ask her to pray for me… she just did.

It was a huge step for me.

But today? After seeing the rest of my money disappear and a broken cell phone, I broke down.

Even though I knew I had money and even though I knew that everything would be okay and even though I have the faith that this will all be taken care of, I still managed to sit down and cry.

Had Matthew not been performing tonight, I’m not sure that I would’ve stopped crying. And the moment that child took the stage tonight, I had the biggest smile on my face.

But it was interesting. As I was driving to the concert, talking to my friend, trying to talk on a broken cell phone and continually getting cut off and having to call back, she said to me… “hey… did you read today’s devotion?”

after about 4 tries to talk to her, I got the point, but I came home and read it for myself…

“…Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.” Genesis 50:20a (KJV)

But then it said this…

“The Lord orchestrates what the enemy does and makes it accomplish His purpose.”

Chew on that for a bit.

I have been… all night.

Despite all that’s happened over the last few days, I am an incredibly blessed woman and I know it.

I don’t know how this is all going to turn out. I’d like to think that I’ll get all my money back and I can go on living. Maybe it will and maybe it won’t. But I do know that this will turn out the way that it is supposed to. And I will continue living on faith.

Until next time…

Heather

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As I mentioned, I’m away this weekend at the Discover the Joy Conference in Williamsburg.  I will admit that I didn’t want to be here.  I didn’t want to go and up until Monday night, I wasn’t.

But here I am.

I knew when I left Thursday night that there was a reason I was going.  I also knew that it may or may not be revealed to me.  As much as I state that I am okay with that?  I’m really not.  I like to know why things happen.  It’s kinda like when my mother would tell me no.  I didn’t mind that she told me no, if she gave me a reason to go with it.  No just wasn’t acceptable.

But yet, I do it to my kids too.  I guess it’s just the way it works like that.

Anywho, the reason was revealed last night.

Yesterday, we went shopping and due to carpooling set ups, I was able to spend time with one of the ladies of my church that I did not know very well.  I learned that she was alot like me.  And I mean ALOT like me… except she has a husband that stays home with her kids.  I don’t have that.  But one day? Maybe.

Anywho, last night, the speaker was talking about how we, as women, see other women, and we think they are perfect, unapproachable, but in reality, we aren’t perfect.

When we got back to the room, we were all sitting around talking and I finally fessed up.

“That’s what I thought about you,” I said.  She just looked at me and then I recounted the conversations we had during the day and how much I enjoyed getting to know her just a little bit better even though it was way far out of my comfort zone.

And it was awesome.

And that’s just one way that I know that He’s moving and He’s here… right now.. in  my life.

And it’s just way too cool.

I’m so glad I got out of the way and let God do His thang…

Off to another rally!

Until next time…

Heather

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Tonight was one of them.

It wasn’t because I needed a mouse disposed of.

It wasn’t because something broke and I didn’t know how to fix it.

It wasn’t because I needed a jar opened.

It was because of the wind.

The last time we had such high wind gusts, I was out of town.  The BFF was here and kept telling me how scary it was.  I shrugged it off.  I knew it had been windy here this year and I guess I had just gotten used to it.

But tonight?  My goodness how that wind, and rain, whipped through here.  The trees were bending so far over with each new gust.  I kept fearing that one of them would fall and land not on the 1.5 acres of land that I own, or in the woods, but on my car, or worse… my home.

Mentally, I was going through my checklist of items that I would need to claim based on which tree fell where.  I couldn’t drown the howl of the wind out and try as I might, I couldn’t ignore it.

Matthew and I have been reading a really good book from the Dear America Series called My Secret War: The World War II Diary of Madeline Beck and at 8:00, 30 minutes before we typically read, I asked him if he wanted to go and read.

As we sat huddled under the covers reading about Maddie we attempted to take our minds off what was going on outside.  It was the perfect weather to curl up with a good book and we so enjoyed reading more into the diary.  At 9, I proclaimed it was bed time and after a few “please just a little more readings” I went to tuck him in.

Just then, the wind picked up and I swore I heard a noise outside.  He asked me the difference between tornado watches and warnings and I admitted that I knew one was more dangerous, but not which one.

And then he asked me what to do about being scared.

Immediately, I told him to pray.  He just looked at me.  “Matthew, can you stop a tornado, or the wind?”

“No,” he replied.

“Neither can I.  Therefore, all you can do is pray and have faith that God will protect us.”

“But what happens if a tree falls on the house?”  He asked.

“Then there is a reason.”

I kissed him goodnight after answering a few questions about Christ’s Second Coming and the Rapture and walked out to the living room where I heard another noise outside. (The child wishes to engage in deep spiritual conversations before bed… all.the.time!)

It was then that I determined this is a time where it would be nice to have a man around, someone to make me feel safe, someone who I knew would handle fallen trees.

It was also when I determined that I had just given my son solid advice; advice that I needed to follow myself.

And again reminded myself that I do have a Man around the house.

Until next time…

Heather

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I am not a cat person… it’s not that I don’t like cats, because I love all animals, but when it comes to personalities, I’m a dog person all the way.

I grew up with dogs and we got Rhoda when she was just 13 weeks old…someone threw her out of a car window on a busy street in Richmond when she was 8 weeks old. Through fate, when I was making sales calls to the local kennel (where she was thrown out — at least the barbarians had enough sense to make sure someone would find her), we met Gracie.

But I couldn’t keep the name Gracie for this dog and the main reason? I was seeing someone who had a daughter named Grace, whom he affectionately called Gracie.

After two days lamenting over what we should call our newest family member, we settled on Rhoda.

Actually, my mother settled on Rhoda. It came down to Pouncey or Rhoda and a stroy behind both.

Pouncey was simply because she was discarded and rescued on Pouncey Tract Road in Richmond. Looking back, I’m so very grateful that we did not name this dog Pouncey. But at the time, it was much better than my mom’s suggestion of Rhoda… and her suggestion of Rhoda came, not because she’s a huge Mary Tyler Moore fan, but because she was found on a Road.

To really understand this, you must know that my mother, at the time, had a dog named Highway and I’ll give you two guesses where this dog was found… first one doesn’t count..

My coworker and I sat there, in our offices, for a day, calling out to an imaginary dog to determine what we liked best and after much polling of the other members in my office, we determined, or rather, they all determined that my mother’s suggestion was the best… and we began to call her Rhoda.

I like it.

It’s different.

It fits her.

A few times along the way, we’ve added other dogs to the mix. We had Bert who died a horrible and sudden death at 5 months old. He looked like the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz and that’s how he got his name, Bert.

There was Napolean… he was the 7 month old Great Dane that we adopted, but when Tim and I split, I got Rhoda and he got Napolean. I miss Napolean, but I got the better end of the deal. Napolean was too much dog for me. And dumb as a box of rocks.

Rhoda is smart. Too smart.

I’ve thought about getting a cat a few times in the last few years for the sole purpose of working with me, against the mice. I thought that a cat might help alleviate the mouse issues that I have but I’ve never been able to bring myself to get one. For one, I have a fear of getting a cat that is afraid of mice, because that’s how my life works… for two, Sam grows in and out of cat allergies, and for three?

I just don’t think Rhoda would allow a cat in here. She’s okay with my parent’s cats, but we have to watch them or all chaos breaks loose and in a house the size of my parents, it’s manageable… in my shoe box that I call home?

That would be like a bull in a china shop.

But here’s the best part.

I don’t need a cat because I have a Rhoda.

A Rhoda that caught a mouse for us Saturday night.

A Rhoda that was so proud she deposited the mouse, sometime in the middle of the night, right in the doorway where all of us have to walk in the morning so that we would see what she had done for us.

Not only am I blessed with a Rhoda, I’m blessed with a Matthew, who quickly noticed an odd object lying in the middle of the floor, investigated, determined what it was and promptly disposed of it before my feet even hit the floor Sunday morning.

Yes, dear readers, I am beyond blessed.

Until next time…

Heather

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Please lift up Beth and her family in prayer…

Until next time…

Heather

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The Best Church. Ever. announced two weeks ago that they were going to do a church wide Daniel Fast.  (Basically, it’s rabbit food… fruits, veggies, etc… no milk, no meat, no cheese, no flour, no sugar… you know all the stuff that we eat everyday? yeah… all that…)

Matthew decides that he wants to try it.

Oy.

Then Sam pipes in that she wants to participate, too.

Double oy.

I can’t not participate with them, so last night, we headed to the grocery store to pick up the items for the few recipes that we saw that we wanted to try and lots of fruits and veggies.

Produce is expensive.

So is organic stuff.

I have now determined that I eat unhealthy because it’s cheaper.

Anywho, we made it through yesterday, no problems.

Today?  They made it through… we’ve made a few adjustments for their lunches (Pastor Man said not to kill myself following this diet for the next 21 days) but so far so good.

Here’s the kicker though…. I cooked.

We had pan fried green beans and roasted potatoes and some fruit.

Not only did I cook, but I didn’t burn it… AND… it was yummy.

The only downfall is that I’m so tired… and I know that this will pass… but I have no energy to go in there and clean up that kitchen… or pack lunches for tomorrow… the kids are running around like banshees and what I really want is to go curl up in front of the TV…

but I can’t.. because Matthew is quite the spiritual kid and decided that we should give up TV for lent…

so Lord, please help me keep up with these kids… both physically and spiritually…

until next time..

Heather

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Do you ever just be-bop along in life thinking everything is okay, only to realize after one very small, insignificant event spins your whole world out of control and you realize that every thing’s NOT been okay?

Please say yes or I’ll feel like a complete nincompoop…

This has been my life for the last few months. Every thing’s been great, or so I thought. I thought that I had it all under control and then on Tuesday I woke up and the world had stopped. There I stood, confused, lost, alone… or at least that’s how I felt. That’s not really how it was, but to me, my things were spiraling out of control.

It was almost as if things were spinning all around me and I couldn’t control any of it.

Now, please know, I know that I am not in control of my life, but there are certain things that I need to have a handle on… and I was grasping at every single thing in my life and coming up with air. I’m sure I’ve known for awhile that this was going on, but I didn’t realize it…

But when I finally opened my eyes? Oh my goodness!

Please don’t misunderstand, it wasn’t like things were bad. They weren’t, but for whatever reason, these things in my life had gotten to the point where I was comfortable with them… or as my dear friend, Myra had been explaining to me for weeks, it was my pit.

The problem was I wasn’t listening to what she was saying because she wasn’t saying it to me — she was just talking in general about Beth Moore’s “Get out of that pit!” that she’s been reading. We do this often, she and I, we talk about the books that we are reading and the profound knowledge that is contained within the pages.

I haven’t been this insane (for lack of a better word) for a while. I could feel the meltdown starting in Bible Study Tuesday morning. I confessed that I had been so unmotivated and unproductive for weeks — in every aspect of my life. I also mentioned that at that point in time I had NO ONE to watch my children or my dog while I was out of town.

The latter was totally my fault. When my failsafe fell through, I didn’t want to seek help from anyone else and let it go far too long and then was trapped.  Yes, I have a problem asking for help.

I came home from Bible Study and was fighting to hold back the tears. My phone was ringing off the hook from those in my Bible Study class as they knew that something wasn’t right with me that morning.

I didn’t answer.

I thought that by calling a friend who is always good for making me laugh would help. I never intended to rage with feelings while on the phone with her, but I did. I was walking around the house, arms flailing everywhere, dumping everything that was going on in my head on her.

She just listened, every once in awhile pointing out that while all these things seemed little in comparison, they were enough to become heavy and weigh me down. Every single thing that was bothering me was so inconsequential and most of them, were simply out of my control.

The she said to me, “You know that when you get on that plane Sunday morning, everything will be okay. Everything will have worked out the way that it’s supposed to. You can go and enjoy your trip. It will be good for you to get away.”

She was the second person to tell me that this trip would be good for me. But I just couldn’t see how when I couldn’t trust that everything would be taken care of on the home front. For whatever reason, I felt that *I* was the only one that could do the things here that someone else would now need to do.

But I did tell her that in that moment, I couldn’t see past my face to see Sunday.

Talk about being stuck on myself.

Talk about being stuck on stupid.

I got off the phone. I sat down to have another unproductive day. I sat down to have a huge pity party and meltdown.

I opened Google Reader to read blogs, and to figure out what I was going to post on mine.

There sitting at the top of the screen was Lysa TerKeurst’s post… Captured By, Enthralled With, Living Proof of…

“Everything I have. Everything I own. Everything I hope for. Everything I fear. Everything I love. Everything I dream. It’s all yours Jesus. I trust you in complete and utter abandon.”

It’s the one thing that made the rich young ruler walk away in Luke 18. He asked Jesus how to inherit eternal life. A life of peace, assurance, joy despite circumstances and eternal security, “How do I get this?” he asked. “I follow the rules. I’m a good person.”

Jesus was quick to reply, “You still lack one thing.” Release. Let go of. Stop depending on. Cease striving for. Abandon. “Sell everything you have and follow me.”

Talk about a slap in the face!

Not once in all my prayers I had I given any of these things to Him… NOT ONCE!

I put in a 9-1-1 to the Big Man right then and there… on my knees, in my office.

Then I returned the calls to those who had called to check on me.

Then I called and asked for help with my children, and you know what?

I am blessed beyond measure. My BFF is, right this minute, getting ready to drive 5 hours to come and stay with my kids while I’m gone. Praise the Lord!

I’m humbled to think that she would make this sacrifice for me, but I also know that I would do it for her in a heart beat.

(It makes me wish harder that she lived here, too, but I’m still trying to convince her that she should move here.)

And then?

I had the most productive day I’ve had in a long time. I was on fire at work, producing some of the best stuff that I ever have.

Then, I got my kitchen cleaned up… including sweeping and mopping the floors… and every stitch of laundry washed, folded and put away.

I couldn’t believe it… I was on fire!!!

That evening, I dropped a note to those in my Bible Study that said…

I guess I needed to have a good vent and a good cry to get back to some semblance of normal…there’s still a whole bunch more to do to climb out of my pit, but I feel like I’m on my way. I still don’t understand why I have to melt down to get better.

And Myra, oh she’s a wealth of wisdom replied and said….

Melt down………Let’s see. Ice must melt down to allow the new growth of spring to burst forth. Perhaps, that is your way of bursting forth, blooming and being productive, Has it occurred to you that your “pit” is one place where you are not supposed to be content? Time’s up and you are coming out, all fresh and clean from the melting of your cocoon! Rejoice and be ye glad!

Makes sense, right?

I feel so much stronger than I did before this happened. I feel refreshed. I have a bounce in my step.

I’ve been like this ever since I had my meltdown and today? I feel like I’m going to burst open…

It was a change of season for me and I’m no longer content in that pit.

And I am so very blessed to have the people in my life that I do. This was a collective effort of all of my friends and each played a very important part…

This time last year? I didn’t have that.

And for that, I am forever grateful.

Until next time…

Heather

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One year ago today a few things happened.

I started a blog.  Yes, I’ve been coming to you live for a year now.

But one year ago today I was in a very, very dark place in my life.  I was living a life of Sin, and yes, that’s a capital S.  Before you say a sin is a sin is a sin, yes I know this.

But this sin was sin that I knew I was living and continued to live it.  I didn’t know how to get out.

Oh it was bad.

Now to the average joe, it was nothing.  Society is accustomed to the life that I was living.  None of my friends thought I was doing anything wrong, but I had this feeling…this feeling that despite all the things my friends were telling me, that I was having fun, that I was wrong.

So… after an invitation to church, I went.  There’s a little bit more to it than that and perhaps one day I’ll share the whole story with you… but the bottom line is that I was invited to church… and I went.  Alone.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and it was Scout Sunday and there weren’t a whole lot of people there.  I remember walking in the door, thinking to myself that I needed to just turn around and go home.  This was different.  This was uncomfortable.  This was scary.  Church hadn’t even started yet and I was already freaking out.

But I took a seat in the back.

I sat there and I listened.  I took notes.  And I cried.  I cried and cried and cried.

I left there and was invited back.  I wasn’t sure at that time whether or not I would go.  It was different.

But something… something told me that I needed to go back.

And I did.

Today marks the year anniversary of the day that I walked into the church.  Today marks the year anniversary of the day that my life started to change… for the better.

Today is monumental for me.

365 days ago I was a size 8… today?  I’m not.  And that’s okay.

365 days ago, I was lost and alone… today?  I’m not.  I have hope.

365 days ago, there were 60ish people in that church… today? Over 120.  And I have to tell you… if there were that many people in my little church a year ago when I walked in, I probably would’ve made a quiet exit and perhaps not returned. This morning when I walked in and saw a church attendance that was almost doubled?  I was rejoicing!

365 days ago, I was still trying to figure this Jesus thing out.  Yesterday I proclaimed to over 100 people over the course of the day that Jesus was head over heels in love with me, and them, and that I wasn’t even jealous.

365 days ago if you would’ve told me that I would be telling people, through the internet or in large groups of people that I don’t know, about Christ, I would’ve told you that you were off your rocker.

365 days ago if you would’ve told me that I would be working with the youth, I would have told you that you were crazy.

Super Bowl Sunday has always meant something to me.  I was born on Super Bowl Sunday (before they lengthened the season).

But Super Bowl Sunday means something new to me now… it’s the day that I decided to listen to the voices inside.  It’s the day that my life changed.

TOUCHDOWN!!!!

Until next time…

Heather

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If you’re not familiar with Upward Basketball let me give you a little background… children are given green stars at every practice for memorizing Bible verses and then at games they are given a colored star.  Each color stands for something like Best Offense, Best Defense, Sportsmanlike, etc.

But the white star is Christlikeness.

Now you know.  I can continue.

Now here’s the conversation…

Samara:  Mom!  I got the white star today.  I’m Christlike.

Me:  How come you got the white star today?

Samara:  I tripped five people.

And she stopped.  She said no more.

Me:  You got the white star for tripping 5 people?  (By this time everyone around me was doing their best not to bust out laughing.)

Samara:  No, because I said I was sorry each time.   That’s why I’m Christlike.  You can mess up and just say you’re sorry and then it’s all okay.

There you have it.

You can trip whomever you would like, just make sure you say you’re sorry.

Until next time…

Heather

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