Monthly Archives: May 2012

Mothering Gone Awry {Guest Post}

I’m really excited to have my Aunt Kim guest posting on the blog today. She has raised three outstanding children who were my best friends growing up. Kim has not only been a great example of a good mother, but she’s also invested in the lives of women in her community by hosting in-home Bible studies and always maintaining the house people want to be at. She continues to inspire and challenge me, and I know she’ll do the same for you today in her post.

It seems that the need to mother is one that every little girl possesses. I remember very distinctly feeding, diapering, rocking and bathing all my baby dolls. My mom taught me how to swaddle, and I spent a long time swaddling and re-swaddling – a skill I was happy to know when my real babies came along!

Mothering is a good thing – to a point. The real skill, however, is to know when NOT to mother, when to take your hands off and let your child learn for himself. For someday your 18 years will be accomplished, and  it will be time to you push your little bird out of the nest. It’s a tough job letting go and ending that stage of mothering, but it would be an unhealthy relationship if the mothering continued at the same capacity our entire life. I would like to encourage you to begin this letting go process while your children are young, little by little.

It’s equally important to learn to let go of mothering when it comes to marriage. Marriages where the wife won’t let go of her assumed mothering responsibilities will always be difficult and should be avoided at all costs.

Because mothering is in our nature and some of us feel the need to do it so strongly, we might (just maybe) tend to mother someone who already has his own mother. Our husband! Men call this nagging but really, it’s mothering.

“Honey, do you really need to get up in the middle of the night and eat ice cream? It’s not good for your stomach and it will make you gain weight!”

“Please wash your hands before you eat that!”

“Maybe you should unplug that before you work on it.”

“You don’t drink enough water… You use too much salt… That costs too much.”

On and on the list could go. In our mothering minds, these all seem like pretty common sense things, but our husbands don’t seem to know any of them, and we believe it is our job to make sure they do!

This tendency may get worse as we get older. Maybe it is because we don’t have our kids around anymore to mother. Maybe it is just because we care deeply for our spouse and only want the best for them. Regardless, we have to relinquish this need to mother our husbands just as we have to cut the apron strings from our own children. God’s Word tells us to submit to our husbands in the Lord (Ephesians 5:22). It’s pretty hard to submit to someone we see as our child.

For those of us who have the desire to mother those we love the most all of the time, it’s important that we keep our actions in check. Children should be submitting to moms and dads, and wives should be submitting to their husbands, not mothering them.

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

Handicapped and in Need of Guest Posters

As most of you already know, I injured my left hand over the weekend. (Thank God I’m right-handed!) My plan was to write a post or two over the weekend, but since my fateful moment struck at 9:00 A.M. Saturday, writing was no longer an option. So here I am typing a one-handed explanation about why there probably won’t be very many posts in the near future instead.

I know you want to hear the story, so I’ll share as much as I can until my hand gets tired of doing the work of two hands. 🙂

Saturday morning I was helping Dash wash his hands in the bathroom just after washing my own. With my already-wet hands, I picked up the ceramic soap dispenser to squirt some soap into his hand. It slipped out of one hand, and I reached to grab it with the other as it hit the sink and shattered. The details are a bit fuzzy because I worried my little guy was hurt when I saw blood. Then I looked down to see I was still grasping a large shard of the dispenser with my left hand and I was the one bleeding. I remember yelling for my husband to come quick before Dash touched something while I jumped up and down in pain. We rushed to the ER where they patched me up good enough for the weekend.

This morning I went in for an outpatient surgery to repair a severed tendon and check out any other problems. It went well, and I’m home recovering. I’m grateful for so many things.

  • My son was not injured.
  • My fingers will probably recover to normal or close to it eventually.
  • My husband was home when the accident happened. Situations like these are what frighten me the most about only having one vehicle.
  • I was able to get my surgery done today.
  • I have incredible family. Every member has been so sweet and helpful when I’m pretty much helpless.
  • My friends. I feel incredibly blessed by all of the prayers that have been uplifted on my behalf. Also, I’m overwhelmed by all who are generously bringing us dinner this week. Thank you!

If you would be so kind as to pray for my family and me during the challenges that lie ahead, here are some specifics.

  • My ability to take care of my son. The only part of my left hand that I can use until May 29th at least is my thumb. This makes many aspects of mothering an almost 3 year old challenging.
  • My husband. He is already under stress as he studies for his upcoming tests in firefighting. He has been a fantastic help already, but he needs to be able to focus on his training.
  • My son. I can already tell that he’s trying to get away with things he normally wouldn’t because I’m unable to put a stop to it as easily. Also, he is kind of attached to me, especially during our bedtime routine, so my lessened ability to be involved is hard on him.
  • A quick recovery. I know I have at least 6 weeks of no to very limited use of my hand. Pray that my hand responds well to therapy when I’m able to start it.

I’m already realizing how much I took for granted when I had two working hands. Depending on others is something I obviously needed a lesson in.

If you are interested in writing a guest post during my recovery time, please be sure to contact me at kwesterf@gmail.com

  • My posts are usually 600-700 words long.
  • You can write about any topic you feel led to, but try to make the general topic about something that makes us girls feel mediocre (average) or an exception.
  • Make sure you keep a positive spin on things. While the topics we deal with on here can be challenging and sad sometimes, the purpose of my posts is to encourage others to focus on Jesus, the solution to all of our problems rather than glorifying the problems.
  • If possible, include a picture to accompany the post. Be sure to include the source link if it’s not an original photo.
  • Include a 2-3 sentence bio as well as a head shot of yourself.

Counting on God’s renewed mercies every morning,

Kelly

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

To My Mama

1000 Moms Project

 

How do I write the perfect post to illustrate the love and gratitude I have for my mom?

If I knew, then you’d be reading it. I’ve thought and thought, and written and rewritten, but nothing seems to grasp what I’m wanting to relay to this beautiful woman who gave me life, shaped me into who I am, and continues to love me as only a mother can.

There have been so many times in my life that I’ve been in this position – desiring to give her the perfect gift, pick out the perfect card, and live the life that will make her proud – yet it never seems quite good enough to me. Meanwhile, she loves me too unconditionally to expect me to be perfect and receives each humble gift with joy. I have no doubt that she really does love me just as I am.

I know because she’s listened to me for hours and hours and hours of her life as I have sorted through things, asked questions, and just talked about whatever silly things amused me.

I know because she always took care to make me a part of her days. When it was time to do chores, she was there showing me how to do it. When it was time to make dinner, she helped me learn how to read recipes. When she was making bridesmaids dresses to provide income for her to stay home with my sister and me, she encouraged me to get out my homemade paper doll and color her some new dresses as well.

When homeschooling was not popular, she stood by her convictions and did the best job teaching of anyone I know, even without a single blog or co-op to boost her confidence or give her ideas. When I didn’t believe in myself, she did. When I didn’t understand Geometry, she would stay up late the night before so she could do the problems herself.

When I came down with the chicken pox on my 11th birthday, she still made it a special day for me. When we were riding in the car together, she would use that opportunity to teach us a new song. When I played outside all day in the muddy creek, she washed my clothes without once complaining. When she volunteered at church throughout the week, my sister and I were right there with her.

When I was bored in the summer, she would take me to the library and then come home and read alongside me. When I had Bible verses to memorize for school, she would memorize them, too. When it snowed, she would come build snowmen with us.

When peers were unkind to me, she would hug me and then remind me of my worth. Oh, and she even taught me Pig Latin so I could fit in a bit with the cool kids when I was in fourth grade. When I felt ugly, she was relentless in telling me I was beautiful.

When I became a mom myself, she was up all night holding her breath in anticipation of holding her first grandson as she stroked my hair. When I was too sick or overwhelmed to care for him and me at the same time, she would take off work to care for both of us.

When I decided to embrace this crazy notion of being a writer, and still feel overwhelmed at all the work and stretching it takes to become one, I have flashbacks to her reactions as she graded my papers all the way back in elementary school. “You’re a gifted writer, Kelly.” Over and over. My first fan, and on the days I feel like she’s my only one, I can smile and keep going.

Mom, I love you. You have inspired me in all that I am aspiring to do with my life, and I am grateful to have such a wonderful example when I try to figure out how I’m supposed to be a good mom myself. Thank you for giving me life and living it with me.

I’m linking this post to the 1,000 Moms Project. Be sure to check it out so you can honor your mom while helping moms in Haiti! You can do it on Facebook if you aren’t a blogger.

My sister, niece, mom, me, and my son on Mother’s Day 2010 (I think we’re due an updated picture.)

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

The Touchy Feely Feelings Behind Food Allergies {Guest Post}

Motherhood definitely has it’s challenges. This blog is about being able to relate when you feel alone as well as moving past the yucky feelings of being “average.” As unifying as motherhood can be to women, certain aspects of it can be equally isolating. I’m grateful to my friend Amber for sharing a bit of her story as she tackles the challenging reality of severe allergies to just about everything for her kids. Even if this isn’t an issue for your family, I know you’ll be able to connect to her feelings with whatever challenge you face in your motherhood experience.

Photo Credit

I’ve spent the last several months absorbing anything I can about nutrition and food allergies. I think a good knowledge of nutrition is important, but for me it’s vital to getting my kids healthy. I’d suspected food allergy issues for years but it wasn’t until a frightening encounter with peanuts and a change in doctors that I got everything spelled out in black and white via blood allergy testing.

I’ve rambled on and on with friends and family about food ingredients and derivatives more than they probably care to hear about, but this might be because it keeps me from having to delve into the touchy-feely emotions surrounding our food.  People, addressing this side of our issue is not fun.

On the one hand I’m praising God that I’m only working with food allergies. On the other hand, I have to choke back tears when my kids watch the ice cream truck come up the street and see the neighbor kids running for it. Even simple trips to the grocery store are emotional. My almost-three-year old knows to be cautions with food and will pick up items asking, “What’s this have in it?” Only he’s asked me a million times now, so it comes out as one word, “Whatsthishaveinit?” I find notes on the kitchen counter from my seven year old that read, “Why do I always always always have to take a brake from derrey???” I’m the mean food police.

It would be nice if we were more like animals and just ate to live. But, we are not. We humans, and I think especially we Americans, have a strong emotional attachment to our food. I think it is even intensified another degree when you’re a stay-at-home mom. I know not all stay-at-home moms like to cook, but I’m one of those who did. Food was my thing, and I was pretty good at it. I have three-ring binders full of our favorite recipes. Right now I pretty much hate food. Yep, I said it. I hate food. Except sushi, which is weird because I never used to like it. If there were an allergy-friendly daily capsule I could give my kids that would fill their bellies and nourish them, I’d be first in line to buy a lifetime supply.

With a food allergy diagnosis, all of a sudden there is a lot of pressure on this parent to put the right foods on my kids’ plates. I’m the one who feeds them. I have been the one making them sick. I am the one who has to get them healthy. I have to process all the different theories and opinions on how to go about treating food allergies. I have to do the research to figure out what they can eat. Then I have to figure out what store sells it. Sometimes I’m on a wild goose chase for things I’ve never heard of before! It’s me who does the majority of the shopping and meal preparation. I’m the one who has to learn to cook from scratch all over again. And when I say “scratch,” I mean SCRATCH. Like make-your-own-breadcrumbs-and-powdered-sugar-scratch. Then I put it on the table and listen to my kids talk about how they don’t like it. And then I get mad. Not at them, of course. I’m mad that this wasn’t caught earlier, like WHEN I SAID THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG (Pardon me for yelling in type, I sometimes do that when I’m frustrated). If they had been raised on alternative food then they wouldn’t know what they are missing.

My kids are going to be just fine. Lots of parents can’t say that and wish they were dealing with only a food allergy. My kids are going to be just fine, but it’s up to ME to figure it out and make the right choices for them. I think anyone who’s not been though a dietary change would be rolling their eyes right now. I’m sure they’d be like, “Seriously, what’s the big deal? It’s just food. Buy a different brand. Shut up and get over it.”

It’s not that easy though. When you’re dealing with this number of allergies and still have a lot of unknown variables, it is terribly hard. I wish I could sit here and type it out but I can’t because I don’t get it yet. There is still so much I don’t know, and I have a lot of genetic factors to consider. I don’t know why I can get my son well, but he doesn’t STAY WELL. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. We are still one week away from our appointment with the allergist. I hope to learn A LOT from the doctor, but I’ve been doing a lot of reading that suggests I still have a lot of work to do. Allergies are so different from one person to the next that I think I’ll just have to keep doing what I’m presently doing which is working myself in circles until my kids are well.

I am overwhelmed, but I take comfort in the verse that has been my mantra for the past year.

For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee. Isaiah 41:13.

Maybe I’ll just get it tattooed on my forehead or something.

Amber is a mom to 2 wonderful children and is trying to figure out her new normal after both kids were recently diagnosed with severe food allergies. She now spends her spare time researching and concocting new ways to keep her kids healthy.

 

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

Mom Wars

Photo Credit

If you keep up with the news even a little bit, then you undoubtedly heard the statement made about Ann Romney last month, stating that she “hadn’t actually worked a day in her life” since she was a stay-at-home mom. I’m not here to bash anyone, and I’m certainly not desiring to start heated political debates. Ick! However, I can’t help but address an issue that seems to an epidemic amongst moms.

Intrigue, emotion, justification, and what I consider reasonable answers immediately hit me when I hear a polarizing statement such as this one. Once I’ve taken a deep breath and tended to the tongue that I bit a little too hard to prevent all of the thoughts that entered my head from pouring out of my mouth, I can’t help but consider the heart of the issue. This one lady made a statement she undoubtedly regrets (I’ve been there more than once), but I believe that the reason there was such a strong reaction to it is because she actually voiced an argument that is always causing under-the-surface tension for mothers on each side of the situation.

The fact is, we all make choices in life, some of them because we’re forced to and others because we want to. No matter how confidently we walk into our life choices, insecurity is lurking within us to bring up doubts along the way.

“Where would I have been if…?”

“Did I throw away a greater opportunity?”

“Women who made a different decision than me seem to have it all figured out.”

Once these doubts have set up residence in our minds, insecurity becomes a mother to comparison, and our already confused hearts become more full of unwelcome tenants.

Motherhood sometimes seems to be synonymous with comparison. But what if we took a stand against this way of thinking? Instead of comparing how much harder our set of circumstances – whether it includes a job outside the home, one inside the home, or solely caring for our children – why can’t it be about giving our callings the attention they deserve?

Rather than comparing how our children behave and learn to those we see when we’re out and about, why can’t we just celebrate each child’s unique gifts and qualities? While we’re at it, why can’t we accept our unique methods of accomplishing our duties as moms and homemakers and purely view the ideas stored up on our Pinterest boards as inspiration rather than signs that we’re failing?

Motherhood is challenging, whether a mom stays home or works outside the home. It’s impossible to fully comprehend what it’s like to be in the other woman’s shoes because we aren’t living her life. Instead of wasting the energy it takes to build up an argument, we would all be better off if we put our efforts into encouraging other moms rather than self-promotion or justification at the expense of putting others down.

Consider how much happier moms as a whole would be if we would just choose to enjoy the children who made us mothers. We are building a legacy for them, and they deserve to see how much richer they make our lives rather than helplessly observing us tear ourselves and others down.

Whatever your calling as a mother is, stand by it, and prayerfully do your best to bring God glory in the process. Let’s never forget our duty as God’s daughters.

He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God?  ~ Micah 6:8

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

A Boy & His Red Wagon

Sometimes I feel like giving up. I look at what lies ahead of me if I continue on the path I’m on and I decide that I just can’t do it. So I take a break, or cross the goal off my to-do list, not because I’ve completed it, but because I’ve decided it no longer belongs there.

One of the greatest gifts of motherhood is being able to learn lessons from the unsuspecting teacher who calls me mommy. Each day, when I take some time to sit back (or run really fast to keep up) to watch my little guy’s mind at work, I feel inspired. God uses him as my little messenger to receive lessons that will teach me far more than books or professors ever could.

Here lately, I’ve been learning so many lessons when this boy has his red wagon in tow. One of the most powerful was earlier this week when we decided to go on a family walk, and we let Dash hop in the wagon per his request. We set out on our usual route, just under two miles in all, with Dash snacking in the wagon as Daddy pulled him along.

That picture itself was sweet enough as it was, but after a half mile or so, Dash was ready to get out and do his own walking. We agreed to his request, and out he happily climbed. I should have seen his next plan of action coming, for it is such a common sight when we’re at home with the wagon. He eagerly ran to the front of the wagon and asked Daddy for the handle so he could be in charge of pulling.

And so he ran down the sidewalk, pulling his red wagon. The picture of him, little head down in determination, with his light-up tennis shoes glowing every other second that they hit the pavement, is one I will treasure always. The greater treasure was watching that determination take him the other half of the mile to our turn-around point. I fully expected him to stop and ask for me to carry him or at least decide that he was ready to get back in the wagon after a quarter of a mile had passed.

“No!” He assured us when we would ask if he was ready for a break.

Then we turned around to walk the mile back, and his smile grew wider as his pace quickened.

Soon, he will be over this walking business. Or at least get tired of pulling that wagon behind him. I told myself.

But he didn’t get over it. He refused to give up the entire mile back home. As we reached the last leg of our journey, he would stop and proclaim, “Mama, I tiwed.”

“That’s okay, buddy. You’ve done a good job. Do you want Daddy to finish pulling the wagon for you?”

“No! I need a dink.”

So he would stop, take a sip, and walk a few more feet, then repeat the request for a drink while refusing the notion of giving up. As we jogged into our driveway, my little boy proved something to me that both humbled and challenged me.

He loves that red wagon, and while it takes effort to pull it up inclines he just kept moving. He endured the strain and exhaustion all the way home. Even his parents, who love this boy the most, were trying to convince him to stop, but he had a goal, and he didn’t back down.

What about my passions and goals? The ones that I convince myself are just too much to handle? I’m just too tired to accomplish them, or it doesn’t seem possible that someone like me could actually make it happen. My excuses no longer seem valid when my Dash could pull a wagon for nearly 1.5 miles before he reached the age of 3.

What about you? How have you been challenged by a child? What dream do you need to keep pushing to accomplish?

 If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.

 

Mommy Moments {Guest Post}

My dear friend Melissa has been kind enough to share her story with us today. I met Melissa at the beginning of my teaching career when she became my mentor. From that relationship, she’s become my sister as we’ve shared our hearts, laughed until we’ve cried, and then cried until we laughed. I love her dearly as do the thousands of students who have had the honor of having her as their English teacher over the past decade.  I feel privileged to have been able to watch God work in truly miraculous ways in her and her husband’s journey to becoming parents. I get goose bumps and teary-eyed every time I think about it all even still. Enjoy this story of the gift of motherhood! ~Kelly

Photo Credit

A little over two years ago I sat, dumbfounded, on my couch with the tiniest little baby on my lap and my husband curled around us both.  In the center of my mind I felt peace as the chaos of the world swirled around us.  After 12 years, 144 months of hope and  ultimate despair, I held a baby, my future daughter, in my arms; I couldn’t believe that God would grant me such a blessing when for those 144 months, I had not handled myself, showing His grace or love.

In the words of our home study person, barrenness, fruitlessness, infertility, and all those other property/crop related metaphors are not allowed to be grieved in our society.  The inability to have children, for me at least, was isolating and lonely as I watched all my friends have their families, and I  was happy for them. As a high school teacher, it proved a bit more difficult to understand the meth-heads and the teens with crazy families who decided to be parents; I questioned God’s plan over and over wondering why I was being punished so.  Through constant hope with each month leading to despair each month, God brought me to my knees, and instead of staying there, climbing into the cleft of the rock, I fled, put my hands over my face and wept, wallowing in the mud and forgetting the grace extended to me in the form of sunshine and many blessings in the middle of this pit.

About 10 years into this ugly journey I read a devotional about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane when he asked God to “take this cup” of crucifixion.  Then he said, “Nevertheless, Your will and not mine.” At that moment I had an epiphany.  If Jesus could accept God’s will in HIS painful journey, then perhaps I should stop being such a big baby and accept the beauty of God’s will in my own life.  For the next part of the journey, I prayed for His will every day and learned to walk with Him.  I gave up the idea of being a mother, and I stopped living in the pit. One day, however, after I shared a sad story about a foster child,  my husband surprised me by saying, “Maybe we should consider adoption.”  While the peanut butter in my mouth thickened, I stared back at him thinking one million different things that made no sense at all except that God had just invited us on a totally different journey to serve Him.

We spent almost two months training to be foster parents and then another 8 months receiving and looking at profiles of young people taken into DFS.  Many days felt as if we were pulling on God’s robes, saying, “Is this the one?  Should these three be our family?  No?  Are you sure?”  Others told us to “just pick one already,” but we waited for God, sort of patiently.  Then, one Saturday afternoon we found ourselves holding our baby daughter.   With a room painted green and an empty dresser, we welcomed this little angel sent from heaven into our home.  The Monday before, late into the night,  I had received the email that asked me to call this young mother, a former student, and the next few days, I never believed it would end this way.

Tuesday at school, I stood greeting my students at my door when the young girl’s best friend, still in my class, said mysteriously, “It is what you think.” What did I think? Clueless,  I sought advice from my friend in the counseling center and told my husband that this was “just a young girl who needed a little help, a shoulder.”  He smiled and went on.  This is not unusual in my life as a teacher.  A long conversation with many tears ensued that night where she voiced her love and her dreams for her little one which would begin by giving the baby a new life, a new hope, through adoption.  When she asked if we wanted to adopt her little one, I humbly accepted, feeling disbelief that it would really happen and overwhelming gratitude for the gift.  Thursday night found me trying to make small talk with my mom wondering if this young lady had made a final decision because our previous conversations ended with me asking her to be sure and to seek guidance with the decision.  I was not going to call her.  It was important that she come to this on her own.  That phone call where she confirmed her decision brought even more tears.  Oh, did I cry, and yet, I still didn’t believe that she would do it.  We called a few family members and a couple of friends.   “I may be picking up my daughter this weekend,” I’d say.   That part was fun. On Friday I found out that she wanted to give us the baby that weekend.  I had about ten minutes to tell my boss and a couple of friends that I would be on maternity leave, possibly beginning on Monday.

Saturday arrived, and while I was In the middle of hosting a huge writing contest, I received a text asking if I could take the baby that day, Saturday instead of Sunday.  I shoved papers everywhere in my desk at school, and raced home to wait nervously at my house.  I had never had my joy as the source of someone else’s pain before, and it was a horrible, heart wrenching, emotional, beautiful and peaceful thing.  When this poor young girl left, I held this tiny baby, and I knew that she had been in my heart far earlier than this particular day.  Every time my little angel says MOMMY or looks at me and smiles or even when she’s throwing a fit, I smile on the inside, immensely blessed, beyond my wildest dreams.

If you’re new to this site, thanks so much for stopping by! I would love to have you as a part of this humble little community of women who want to find the exceptional power of God in our otherwise average lives. If you would like to receive updates when I add new posts, you can like my Facebook page, subscribe to my RSS feed, or receive new posts by email. You can also find all of these options easily by going to my home page and clicking on the appropriate icon located in the right side bar.