It's Hard to be 4

Ephraim and I spend about an hour on the road each morning. We take his brothers to school first, and then have about 20 - 30 minutes before his preschool begins. A couple of weeks ago, Ephraim told me as we were driving that he didn't want to go to school that day. I don't let him play hooky from preschool, because I'm afraid that will set an expectation in Kindergarten that will be hard to change... so I laughed in an upbeat voice, "Ephraim! You have to go to school!"

Ephraim sighed heavily and said in a very serious voice, "It's hard to be 4."

I just love children at age 3 and 4! Despite the attitude that often accompanies the age... I just love seeing their little personalities emerge! It eases the pain of not having a baby any more to see your children just get so much more... well, interesting as they get older.

When Matthew was 3, I was still working full time. He didn't want me to go to work one day. I tried to reason with him by saying, "Matthew, I have to go to work to make money so that we can buy toys." He just cried harder, and said,"I don't want you to buy toys. I just want you to stay home with me!"

Matthew was in a Christian Daycare that year, and his teacher tried to teach the children about Jesus. I don't know exactly what she taught, but I suspect it was a bit over the children's' heads. Matthew tried to process it, but was definitely more disturbed than enlightened.
He asked me one day, "Mommy, if Jesus lives inside my heart... isn't it dark in there?"
On another occasion he asked, "If Jesus lives in my heart... what does he do when he has to go to the bathroom?"

Nathan has been a huge Spiderman fan since he was 3 years old. When he was 4, he was playing at his friend Parks' house and the two of them found a spider. Luckily, Parks' Mom Leah was close by, because she heard Nathan saying, "Oooh... I wonder if I let this spider bite me if I will be like Spiderman?" Thank goodness Leah quickly intervened!

After I picked Ephraim up from preschool today, he and I were talking about his brothers. I said something like, "You sure do love your brothers, don't you?" At first, he agreed... but then though better of it.

"Mommy!" He exclaimed indignantly. "I'm not a girl!"

Startled, I asked, "What do you mean, Ephraim? Boys love, too!"
He completely dismissed the notion. "No, they don't Mommy. Boys don't have hearts!"

An hour later, Ephraim was a little sleepy. He followed me around the kitchen very persistently. After a few minutes, I picked him up and held him close. He stayed in my arms for about 10 minutes... a very long time for a 4-year-old boy. "I love you, Ephraim," I told him.

"I love you, too, Mommy," he said quietly.

God's gift to me in the midst of Alzheimer's: One last glimpse of her

My last living grandparent, Frances Tabor, died on New Year's Day of 2007. It's hard to believe she died just this year, though; she had been gone from herself since at least the year 2000.

She was my father's mother, born the youngest of seven children in Butler, Georgia. She was a southern lady in every was imaginable... from her cooking to her southern manners... We lived about an hour apart for most of my life; so I spent a lot of time at her house.

My brother Ben and I spent many weeks during the summer at our grandparents' house. I can't remember exactly how we spent the time, except that while we were there; my grandparents REALLY paid attention to us. When I was really little, my grandmother used to play on the floor with me and all of my stuffed animals. We used to play around her coffee table and used the legs as a part of their pretend house, and she knew all of my stuffed animals' names. Later, she entertained me by answering my endless questions about the past; as well as telling me stories from her childhood. When I was a teenager, she became my shopping buddy, and we spent endless hours walking the malls. When I went to college in Athens, my grandparents helped me immensely by sending me money and visiting often; they also gave me rides when I wanted to visit home. As a young adult, my first "real" job was near Chattanooga. I was young and in a town where I knew no one; and since I worked with mental patients, work did not exactly open doors to friends my age! In my loneliness, my grandparents phoned and visited me often.

After getting married and having a baby, my grandmother and I hit the malls once again with renewed interest; now we were searching for baby boy outfits! Things should have been wonderful and perfect... but something changed within her. It was so gradual that I didn't notice it at first; but looking back, it is all very clear now.

Alzheimer's for Grandmama began with an inability to drop it when someone slighted her. We all do it... you know, someone says something rude and you think about what you wish you'd said for the next day or so... a complete waste of time, but very human. Well, she began holding onto grievances against people the way a dog chews on a bone... she just couldn't let it go. We didn't recognize this as dementia; rather, we thought she was just getting a bit cantankerous. It surfaced with everyone to some extent; and then once day exploded on me. She wanted to allow Matthew to do a number of things I didn't agree with. In hindsight, I would have done things SO DIFFERENTLY if I had any idea she was sick. However, I didn't know and just told her like I would have told anyone... that I was the mother and I would be making the decisions.

Note: Really pray about it before you take this approach with someone who is old enough to develop Alzheimer's and has developed a recent tendency to hold grudges to an extreme.

Grandmama shocked me by telling me she never wanted anything to do with me again. I still didn't know she was sick, so I had no idea where this was coming from. I tried and tried to apologize... letters and even a video tape just made it worse. She was done with me and I just couldn't believe it.

The worst part was that she had not lost any of her memory yet. This was a double-edged sword: painful in part because I couldn't blame her hatred on the disease, and also painful because she said true things to me about my character that made her dislike of me all the more believable.

Our separation lasted 9 long months. After nine months passed, I had really given up. I had accepted being disowned. Then, out of the blue, Grandmama called. I answered the phone and heard that familiar, "Sammy?" I couldn't believe she'd called. I will never forget how broken she sounded. Her voice was weak as if she'd been crying, and she said she didn't know how things had ever gotten so far. We both apologized and she said she wanted us to be a family again. I wanted it to happen, but it really never did.

In The Velveteen Rabbit, the rabbit becomes real after being loved on for so many years. Many of the older women in my life, like some of the ones in my Bible study group, seem to get more real with age. I love watching their girlish expressions when they say something naughty... the creases on their faces are so beautiful in the way they make expressions. They seem so alive!

Once Grandmama became sick, she was no longer like the beautiful older women in my Bible study. She didn't become more animated with age after becoming sick. She couldn't joke or even connect with me anymore. It was as if her body was a shell and still contained the memory of her... but no longer actually contained her. Unlike the Velveteen Rabbit, she didn't seem real anymore.

Over time, Alzheimer's made her aggressive with everyone except (ironically) me. I had learned my lesson, and was very careful with my tone. This seemed to be the key, because she never turned on me again. However, she was unpredictable and at times physically violent. I didn't feel confident about taking the kids to see her... I took them some, but fear kept me from going as often as I should have gone.

Eventually, she could no longer make new memories. I ended up guessing when her illness began based on the memories she retained. She always remembered Matthew, but in the end forgot Nathan. He was born in 2000. After she died in 2007, I realized while going through her home and belongings that her illness began much sooner than even 2000. We found unpaid bills, among other things, hidden away in envelopes all over her house. The earliest date for these strangely filed or hidden items was a decade before her death.

Just how long does Alzheimer's last? When do you get it? Do I have it now? Does Charles? Is there something I'm eating, or cooking with, or breathing that I should avoid?

No one knows.

On Christmas of 2006, I took my older boys to visit her. She was in terrible shape mentally... By this point, most of her conversations were a series of loops... a string of phrases she would utter in order again and again. Real conversation was impossible because she couldn't remember from one second to the next what had been said. Still, I tried that day. I began talking about the things we used to do together. Suddenly, the blank look in her eyes was filled with recognition, and she said"Those were the best days of my life." I looked at her with shock. She was there! I could see the real Grandmama behind her eyes. I told her, " You were a really good grandmother. " We both cried as I am crying now. It was the last time I saw her alive.

I thank God for that moment when she was real again. I'm so glad it ended that way; a real moment between us. The last 7 years had been so hard. Thank you, Jesus, for letting those be our last word to each other here on earth!

In His Hands

I haven't been blogging much. I compose blogs in my head... I REALLY want to document this time in my life while my children are young...

We have been SO BUSY since we moved! I packed everything so carefully... too carefully, I am now realizing. I even took the pictures out of their frames just in case the glass broke! Now, there are pictures and frames all over my living room and dining room. The chaos is driving me crazy!

We've had many little things keeping us occupied and busy; but there was one major event worth mentioning. Our house backs up to a lake and a walking trail, so we've headed out the back door on many occasions to either feed the ducks or go for a walk. From the moment we first moved in, I occasionally noticed a faint gas smell. It wasn't inside the house or even right next to the house... it was about 4 feet away from the back door! Charles couldn't smell it at all, so I thought maybe I was smelling some strange plant or something. I got on my hands and knees and sniffed the wall along the entire backside of my house... nothing. I went under the house into the crawls space and sniffed... nothing. I got on my knees and sniffed all around the hot water heater... nothing. I tried to forget about it.

A couple of weeks ago, on a Thursday night; I woke up in the middle of the night thinking, "I've got to get that gas smell checked!" I hadn't had a dream, exactly... it was more of just waking up with a single thought in my head. I was thinking, "What if the house blows up while I'm substitute teaching tomorrow... what if my husband and my 4-year-old blow up?"


I looked over at Charles, but he was sound asleep. I didn't smell gas and hadn't noticed an increase in the smell outside, so I shrugged it off and went back to sleep. With three children, our sleep is disturbed plenty as it is... I knew I shouldn't wake him over a "what if?"


I shrugged off the feeling and went back to sleep. By morning, I had forgotten all about it.

That evening, Nathan had a friend spend the night. We walked to the playground; and when we returned Charles and I both smelled a strong odor about 4 feet from the house. We both walked around the yard, trying to pinpoint the source.


I decided to play it safe this time and called the gas company. The woman answering emergency calls was very matter of fact, and instructed me to open all of the windows and doors. She said not to turn on any lights or appliances that were not already on, and not to light any candles or matches. I remembered my feeling of fear the night before, and her words did not comfort me!

While we were waiting for a gas company service man to arrive and check for a leak, we just sat there discussing her instructions. Since the gas smell was only on the outside, we decided against opening the doors and windows. The workman arrived and did indeed discover a leak. He said it was probably a small leak... but a small gas leak is still a gas leak, and he cut off our service! He assured us he would turn it back on as soon as we had the leak repaired, and left us at about 8:00 PM on a Friday night.

I immediately thought of the rate: time and a half for plumbing work on the weekends! We discussed waiting until Monday... for about 3 seconds. However, the reality is that with three boys and a cub scout fishing expedition scheduled for the next morning; we couldn't be going without baths and showers until Monday! Not to mention the washing machine and dishwasher...

We called the plumber, and they were able to come out the next morning. He dug up the pipe with the small leak; and the metal tubing literally crumbled in his hand when he removed it from the ground. Apparently, the only thing holding that gas pipe together was the ground surrounding it! $1500 later, we had hot water and a much safer house.

As I reflected on the feeling of urgency I'd had Thursday night about the gas smell; I was amazed to realize what God had tried to do for us. I ignored the "feeling" or "intuition" of course, and paid the consequences (time and a half!) Some might say God saved us from an explosion... and He did in a way, because no explosion was going to happen outside His will. But in addition to that, I believe He was trying to save us that $500 that we had to pay for having it repaired Saturday instead of Friday. What other explanation is there for me waking up with a sense of urgency Thursday night, when we didn't notice the increase in smell until Friday night? God wasn't wringing His hands, thinking "Oh, I hope they don't blow up!" No, He knew He wasn't done with us. When He is done with us, we'll be gone; no matter how careful we've been.

The trail that almost led to Bozeman

In my last post, I mentioned the acronym BUSY (Buried Under Satan's Yoke). Today, I have another:


False
Evidence
Appearing
Real

Do you know what I mean? Has this ever happened to you?

First, allow me to give credit where credit is due... I did not come up with this... Beth Moore used this acronym in Session One (video) of her Bible Study entitled The Patriarchs. I wish I could remember exactly what she said, but it has probably been six months since I heard it. However, the gist was that one of our enemy's best tools is taking something completely untrue and making it seem true.

The first example in history of this happening is, of course, Eve. "Surely you will not die..." the serpent whispered cunningly. He was twisting reality, focusing on the physical world, as if that was Eve's only reality. But our reality includes the spiritual world where separation from God (spiritual death) is the consequence for sin. By distracting Eve from spiritual matters and encouraging her to focus on her material world, Satan set her up for her fall. I'm not excusing her choice, nor am I excusing any of my bad choices. Rather, I am suggesting we be prepared before we are tempted by being on guard against that false evidence appearing real.

Beth also said another tool Satan uses in his deception is making real evidence of God appear false. There are so many miracles our culture explains away by science, luck, etc. Childbirth, the Grand Canyon, being in the right place at the right time... you name it, we can come up with a reason for it. Read The Screw Tape Letters by C.S. Lewis if you haven't before. It is such as EASY read... nothing like his other stuff... and it does a really good job of poking fun at the way Satan works. Yet, when you read it, despite the humor, you will think, "That's EXACTLY how it happens!"

I am here to stand against FEAR. I am going to share real evidence of God that could appear false without Faith. I hope my story will be helpful to some... maybe one day to my children as they look back on 2007.

For many years, Charles has been drawn to mission work. He has not been trained in evangelism, but he really likes to go and help people in a physical way. In 2006, we began talking about the possibility of becoming a missionary family in a foreign country. We explored the posts available with the IMB, and Charles talked to some people in charge of placement. However, we never felt a peace about anything we explored. Things that appealed to me didn't appeal to him, and vice-versa. In the fall, we heard a missionary from Montana talk about opportunities available in the state, especially near Billings, to minister to the Native Americans. When we got home that evening, we were united in thought for the first time since we had begun exploring missions. We both thought, "We can do this!" The great thing about Montana was that they needed people to move there and join fledgling churches... people who could be gainfully employed outside of the church. Charles works remotely for a company out of Delaware, so this was definitely doable for us.

We were excited about what we felt was a calling, but we didn't know where to begin. Charles was friends with our pastor, and asked his advice. He said he would pray for us. A few weeks later, our pastor called Charles and asked him to go for a drive. He told Charles he was planning to move to Bozeman Montana to plant a Baptist church, and asked if Charles and I would consider going with him to Bozeman to help get things started. Both men were elated at the idea of the adventure, and it really seemed like a confirmation of the calling to learn another family was being called to the same general area. We did not have a specific destination in mind before hearing of the church plant... so we settled on Bozeman and began to think of that as our mission.

We decided to travel to Bozeman over spring break to make sure I could handle the cold and to check out housing and schools. Our pastor's wife is a teacher, so they went out at the same time and we met up for a few meals. As we fellowshipped, we marvelled at the scenery and the majesty of God's creation. Charles and I were not sure we could afford to move in 2007, but we encountered many things that made us really want to do it. In the short time we were there, I found a ladies' Bible Study... they were doing a study and they wondered if I'd ever heard of the author... a lady named Beth Moore? Are you kidding?!! She is only my FAVORITE! Beth scolds us to study under a variety of teachers and I try to, but she is the only one who NEVER loses my attention). We found a perfect community with a neighborhood school, a lake for fishing, and a gorgeous view of the mountain range. I discovered a free-lance music therapist who was planning to begin working full-time and may have to give up some of her part-time gigs (I was a music therapist in my other lifetime, before marriage and kids... was this a way to work part-time for traveling home money?)

There were many signs that Montana was where God wanted us. However, I can also see looking back that there were also signs that we should proceed with caution. The first sign for me was when I asked if we could "drive over" to an Indian reservation. I had in mind shopping for some authentic blankets. Charles looked at me blankly, and then said, "There are no reservations near Bozeman." I returned his blank look and wondered, "Then what are we doing here?" We had both read Bury My heart at Wounded Knee, along with anything and everything else we could find about Native American History. We were so eager to, in some small way, help the nations living within our nation who have had so much stolen from them. I could not believe we were headed to the part of Montana that seemed furthest from the reservations.

Another sign was the cost of living in Bozeman. Bozeman was the only area in Montana where the cost of living was actually higher than Georgia. However, Belgrade was only 6 miles from Bozeman; and we were able to find new housing for about the same price as new housing in Columbus. The disadvantage here was that we prefer old houses because of their lower cost... but we couldn't find any older houses in the area we liked. This made us wonder. We choose older houses because we like to live beneath our means... was it God's will for us to live differently? Or was that where the music therapy would eventually come in?

Another caution sign should have been the amount of time our pastor was called away when he attempted to disciple us. He had us buy two books and planned to go through them with us as a small group study. However, two separate severe illnesses of close family members prevented him from meeting with us in Bible study even one time.

Despite these snags, we had a passion for Montana; and we decided to sweep these "uh-oh" feelings under the rug. We put our house up for sale, and took a wild ride through the land of spiritual attack. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Every paint project we tackled has some sort of snag... paint not drying, paint peeling off, paint not covering, paint not adhering to primer. I do a LOT of painting and buy only the best products and pretty much know what I am doing... but NOTHING turned out right. Once I even lost a can of kiltz, even though I knew exactly where it was. Skeptics will scoff at this, but some of you will believe. The Kiltz was on my paint shelf and I knew where it was... but I could not see it. It was as if scales were over my eyes. I kid you not, I could not find the paint until Charles and I both prayed for God to reveal it. After praying, my eyes went immediately to the Kiltz... it was on the shelf, right in front of me. I just couldn't see it until I prayed. Doubt not, I speak the truth!

There were also spiritual attacks of a physical nature that cannot to this day be explained. One night, Ephraim came screaming into my room saying, "Something tried to grab me!" As he climbed into my bed, I noticed my clock was blinking "12:00 AM" I tried to wake Charles because I thought the power must have gone out and sent all of the clocks back to 12:00 AM. My blood ran cold when I realized his clock read "4:30 AM." I made him hold Ephraim while I checked the rest of the house... and discovered that my clock was the only clock that had experienced a disruption in electricity at the exact moment Ephraim felt something grab him.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7

FALSE
EVIDENCE
APPEARING
REAL

I took the power of Christ, which has dwelled in me since asking Jesus to be my savior; and I prayed over my entire house... banishing all evil and spirits of evil in the name of Jesus. Satan has no power over Christ in me.

A couple of weeks later, another unexplained event occurred. We had received an offer on our house, and were in the negotiating phase. A DVD came in the mail from Blockbuster online. I had never heard of the title, so I looked up the synopsis online. It said the movie was the only documented occurrence of a true spiritual attack on a child that ended in murder. I yelled for Charles and asked him why he would order something like that after what had happened with the clock. Guess what... you guessed it... neither of us ordered that movie.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
2 Peter 1:7

False
Evidence
Appearing
Real

Talk about fear. I felt like something had just made a direct threat against my child, and I couldn't see the thing that was threatening me. I took my ipod and headed for the park. As I listened to my favorite worship songs and took in visually the splendor of God, the wind began to blow. I felt God's spirit in the wind... I felt the spirit of God move through my body. I wanted to raise my hands and shout to Him. There were others at the park, so I refrained and spoke to him silently from my heart. I said, "God, I give it all to you. I give my baby to you. You tell me in your word that you have already decided the number of days Ephraim will live... and I know he will live only that number of days whether I got to Montana or stay here... and I'll go, God! Ephraim is yours, and only you can determine how long he will live. I give him to you!"

I went home, and we finalized the contract to sell our house. It was a competitive buyers market, so we agreed to a quick closing with a price that seemed good for the market. A couple of hours later, we got an email from our pastor, saying he was not going to Montana after all.

After all of the spiritual warfare, I still wanted to go. I was determined to go! Charles wanted to go as well, and tried to book a flight for Matthew and I to go find housing. He worked with Delta relentlessly for an hour, both online and by phone; but he absolutely could not get a flight for where Matthew and I could be together. He kept trying because Matthew is 10, and not ready to fly alone. While on hold, Charles heard God say to him (audibly), "You can stop now. This is as far as I want you to go."

Charles hung up the phone and told me about the voice he had heard. We got out his laptop and began searching for a house in Columbus. Later that night, while I was sleeping, I heard a voice whisper in my ear, "Everything is going to be okay now." It was a soothing, intimate voice... like a lover's voice... and it whispered in my ear from behind me. I thought at first it was Charles, but I awoke to find myself lying on my side facing Charles. He wasn't behind me and could not have whispered from that direction. In any case, he was asleep. God had spoken to me as well as to him.

In the end, God led us to a house in Columbus with a neighborhood school, a lake for fishing, and a beautiful view of the lake complete with ducks. Sound familiar? Just what we would have had in Montana, except that we also got our preferred "older home" and a swimming pool to boot!

Ain't no high like THE MOST HIGH! (again, Beth Moore. Sorry, but she just says it so well! And so perfectly southern!)

I pray you are blessed by my testimony. I don't understand everything that happened to us this year... there are a few things I look forward to asking God about. If I think about it too much, it makes my head hurt. But can't the same thing be said of MANY things God does? I am studying Daniel under Beth Moore now, and that can REALLY make your head hurt. God is beyond our understanding... but He's got it all in His hand.

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell ME if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know!
Job 38:4-5

There's a lot we don't know....




This was the view in the neighborhood where we were planning to live in Montana. There was a small lake for fishing (and swimming, if the water was warm enough).


































This is the view in our backyard God provided right here in Georgia. You can't swim in the lake, but God graciously gave us a swimming pool! Also, there are ducks to feed and a walking trail. God has been very good to us. He provided not only what we needed, but also the things the boys really wanted.

Are you too busy?

Have you ever seen the acronym for being too busy? I will never forget the first time I saw it. I was working full-time as a guidance counselor at the Teenage Parenting Center here in Columbus, and I was on my way to take my two children, ages 3 and an infant, to Daycare. As I sped past St. Mark United Methodist Church, and there it was, on their billboard.

Buried
Under
Satan's
Yoke

Being too busy is the one thing that sneaks up on me EVERY SINGLE TIME I get close to reaching my goal of becoming more like Mary, sister of Lazarus.

When I saw that billboard seven years ago, I was involved in a ladies Bible study with a group of young mothers. None of them worked outside the home; and I joined them because as a working mother, especially in a school setting, I was literally starved for interaction with other mothers of preschoolers. The first night I met with them, God gave me the desire to become like them... stay-at-home Moms. It was difficult, but with God's help we managed to get there within about 9 months.

I have now been at home for 6 years. Occasionally, I have worked part-time; but I have mostly been at home taking care of my 3 boys and my husband. One might think it would be easy to sit at the feet of Jesus like Mary when you have no place to be other than the parent-pick-up line at school. Not so... at least, not so for me!

Why not? What exactly do I do all day, you may be thinking? My distractions have varied over these 6 years. Play group; Bible Study; volunteering at the Crisis Pregnancy Center; being room Mom and/or team Mom; teaching Teamkid, Sunday School, and/or AWANA; teaching and/or organizing VBS; being cub scout den leader; driving kids all over town; exercising; and working part-time. Not to mention cooking, shopping, cleaning, and visiting (when possible) my grandparents who all died during the last 7 years.

All of these things were good; and to some extent, I enjoyed doing them all. At the same time, all of these "good" activities combined have buried me alive... choked the true life out of me. The only thing I wish I had done more is visit my grandparents. Everything else distracted me, and knowing I allowed it to happen adds to my sorrow now.

This school year, God has really been convicting me to guard my time more carefully. Naming this blog "Becoming a Mary" helped as I sifted through the many needs in my family's church, school, and community. For example, I felt drawn to respond to a need for counselors at the Crisis Pregnancy Center. As I prayed about it, God gently said, "Yes, it is an important ministry. But because of your children, it's not exactly what I had in mind for you in becoming more like Mary." Ouch.

So... I am trying to forget the guilt I feel over ministries in need and just obey God. My ministries at church this year require no preparation (kids' church and nursery, each about once a month). My ministries as school require a little more: cub scout den leader and room mother... but isn't that what Jesus did? Put his greatest efforts into reaching the world? I'll do a Bible study, ofcourse. Beth Moore's Daniel, and I can't wait! I also signed up to help Morningside implement it's new mission. I want to start walking, and hope to get back to a healthier weight. Despite all of these things, I know some will say I'm not doing much... but I don't answer to man, other than my husband, who supports me doing even less than I am. I answer only to Christ... and He wants me to become more like Mary...

Changing from a Martha to a Mary

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her." Luke 10:38-41

God has been calling me to begin a blog for some time now. I have ignored and resisted His urgings, however; because this is a very busy season in my life. First and foremost in my heart and mind is the important task God assigned me in raising three men. Can there be a more important calling? I think not. Even so, I know God has also assigned me another task equally important; rather, more important because it is a necessary part of raising three men correctly. God has called me to become more like Mary, the sister of Lazarus and Martha.

I have been like Martha, not Mary, my entire life. I have always been very, very busy. Years ago, God gave me the verse, "Be still and know that I am God..." Sadly, I have never gotten the hang of being still and really knowing God like I should. I have always remained busy, busy, busy. I really want to change, and I believe I will change now because becoming a Mary instead of a Martha is (for the first time) the true desire of my heart.