Dreaded Words

Devon and I were in the car on a day trip of adventure. Driving with the sun shining, the radio playing our favorite Christian band, and my favorite person by my side I was just having an awesome day.

As it often does when we are in the car, conversation turned serious. Devon said, “I’ve been thinking about careers, I don’t know why.” I quickly shot him a look, as I tried to focus on the road. From an age of 5 or 6 years old, he’s always wanted to be a scientist, but this sounded different. The tone of his voice was intense and I braced myself. Well, I finally heard the words that every mom dreads…. “Mom, I think I want to join the military.”

Now remember, this is a Mom who served 10 years in the USAF proudly. I’ve been there, and done that….I have a pretty good idea of what it might entail. Yet, as a Mom, my heart raced and I clinched the steering wheel. I said a prayer and asked God for guidance. The conversation ensued…. What branch? What type of job? Why the military?

I recall the amazement in his eyes the first time he realized what the “military” is. Around age 3 or 4, those little green army men came to “life” when he saw pictures of me in uniform and saw my medals that hang on the wall. The first time he saw my “dog tags” he asked, “why do they call them that?” Now this awe mixed with curiosity was perhaps becoming more concrete.

I think back to the election of 2008 when as luck would have it, we were studying the birth of our nation. We read the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution; even posted them on the wall to look at every day. We read the biographies of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and others. During that time, I sensed a change in Devon’s understanding of democracy, the principles that founded the nation and I believe, that was the turning point in both his appreciation of and respect for our nation.

Good job, Mom. You taught him well about the nation’s heritage and patriotism. Well enough to hear those ‘dreaded words.’ Who knows what will happen with the career, I’m just proud of my son, the patriot.

Faithfulness

Today’s morning devotional was on the topic of faithfulness. “Faithfulness,” it said “can be described as being true to one's word, promises, or vows.” While there are several definitions for the word, I really like this one. Then it said, people “approach too many commitments with the option of, ‘Well, if this doesn't work, I can always get out.’”

I couldn’t get that idea out of my head all day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the times in my life that I’d approached something with that attitude; things like places I’ve lived, jobs, even my marriage.

I consider myself to be an extremely honest, loyal, trustworthy person. According to the definition stated above, I would have even described myself as faithful. But the idea of this attitude “if it doesn’t work…” it just struck a chord with me.

As God is so faithful to us, so I desire to be faithful. Faithful to friends, family, and principles like homeschooling. So the next time a thought of putting Devon in public school comes to my mind or close to my lips, I pray one simple word will cross my heart….faithfulness.

Extremely delicious recipe: Broccoli Cheese Soup

Broccoli Cheese soup

Ingredients:

1/3 cup and 1 tablespoon and 1 teaspoon butter 1/3 cup and 1 tablespoon and 1 teaspoon all -purpose flour 5 cups chicken stock 5 cups milk

1/2 teaspoon salt 3/4 teaspoon white pepper 2-3/4 cups fresh broccoli florets 13 ounces processed cheese, shredded 1-2/3 cups shredded Cheddar cheese

Directions:

You have scaled this recipe's ingredients to yield a new amount (10). The directions below still refer to the original recipe yield (18).

1.	Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat, and mix in the flour. Reduce heat to low, and cook, stirring constantly, about 2 minutes. Mix in the chicken stock and milk, and season with salt and white pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, and simmer about 10 minutes.
2.	Bring a pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Place the broccoli in the boiling water, and cook 2 minutes, or until just tender. Remove from heat, drain, and set aside.
3.	Gradually mix the processed cheese and Cheddar cheese into the large pot until melted. Mix in the broccoli. Continue cooking about 5 minutes.

 JUST A NOTE FRIENDS: the recipe did not call for chopping up the broccoli but I did. The picture looked chunky and I didn't want that, so I cut up the broccoli into bite size pieces. It was absolutely delicious.

Why boys love sports….or do they?

I begin this post with a question…why do boys love sports?

Is the love of sports in a boy’s genes or does our sports loving society ingrain it? I have a lot of questions about this subject because I have been so personally affected by it.

When my son was born, he was dressed in clothing with sports themes. His room was decorated in baseball and football décor. From the earliest age, his gifts were balls, bats and every type of sporting equipment imaginable. All of the typical “sports” trappings, we Americans seem to inundate our male children with where bestowed upon my son.

Yet from the age of about two, I could tell there was little interest in the balls, the bats, the bikes, the skateboards, etc. When the other boys at the park were riding bikes and kicking the balls to one another, my son would be off somewhere examining a plant or reading the little books that he took with him everywhere. He noticed the differences in the shapes and sizes of the plants and flowers and knew which types were likely to bring which insects. He could tell you the names of the types of clouds.  He loved to read, but had no interest in what most of the other boys were doing.

By age six, when all the other boys were riding their bikes and skateboards like crazy, my son’s brand new bike and skateboard sat unused. When I would ask why he wasn’t interested he’d just shrug and say “I don’t know.” About that time is when people start asking boys, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” My son’s response was “a scientist.” And that’s when the light went on for me. No amount of sporting equipment was going to change who he was on the inside.

I took him to the park today to throw around an old Nerf football that’s still in the bucket of balls we have. He’s got a heck of an arm and over time has learned to catch some. Seeing him running and smiling made me so happy. Seeing how well he throws the ball made all those memories come flooding back (the ones when I realized he’s not interested in sports) and I had to fight the urge to pressure him to play football next year in school.

In this family, Mom is the sports nut….and the boy? Well, let’s just let him be a scientist.

The Ocean brings me Joy!

Questions for God: 

How does each wave curl so perfectly? 

How does it know it’s time? 

How does the sound make music in my ears? 

How does the sand feel like precious jewels surrounding my feet? 

How does the horizon always look like I can touch it? 

I hope God lets me ask some questions when I get there.