I haven’t always enjoyed vacuuming the swimming pool. And I don’t always do it. My husband does it better than me, but when he’s busy, I do it. Or when he’s tired and I want to bless him, I do it. But I don’t mind it actually. It’s actually therapeutic for me to see the bottom of the pool clean because I did it.

And I’m pretty sure the Proverbs 31 woman would have not hired a pool boy to do her vacuuming.

Not that I’m comparing myself to her by any means, but seriously, think about it.

Not only is she worth far more than rubies, but her husband has full confidence in her. And y’all, every single day she brings him good. Not a single bit of harm on any day of the week. Like not even when she has PMS or her when her iPhone falls in the toilet or when she leaves for a dinner and her tire is flat. In addition to being pretty much spot on emotionally and relationally, she also did practical things that many of us do every day. She was a:

• Handyman (v. 13)
• Chef (v. 15)
• Realtor (v. 16)
• Winemaker (v. 16)
• Weight lifter (v. 17)
• Negotiator (v. 18)
• Seamstress (v. 19)
• Humanitarian (v. 20)
• Decorator (v. 22)
• Fashion designer (v. 22)
• Saleswoman (v. 24)
• Comedian (v. 25)
• Counselor (v. 26)
• Manager (v. 27)
• Hard worker (v. 27)
• Great mother (v. 28)
• Cherished wife (v. 28)

That’s quite a woman. Like basically this lady could easily sing “I’m Every Woman” just like Whitney Houston did. So, I stand by my statement above. I think she would have vacuumed her own swimming pool.

(Because y’all know she would have had one with all the stuff she did for her man and her children and the townspeople. Oh yes she would.)

At least that’s how I see it.

Noah Christopher Beall.

He took my heart over 15 years ago. He smelled sweet even after he spit up. He smiled with love in his eyes for me and thought I was the cat’s meow. He didn’t want me to leave the room. He always told me he loved me. 

Now he stands over three inches taller than me and his sweet smell has since departed his tall, thin body. His introverted personality needs to retreat to his bedroom away from his extroverted mother and her  “I just want to hear about your day” conversations.  I am 187% certain that I annoy him on a daily basis but at the same time, he still calls me Momma.

(When he calls me Momma, my heart warms and my answers will almost always be yes. I pray he always calls me Momma. But don’t tell him because then he might use it against me and I will be forced to give in. Sigh.)

In 36 days he will obtain his learner’s permit for driving which means HE WILL BE DOING THE DRIVING and his mother will have to remain calm because HE WILL BE DOING THE DRIVING so pray that his mother’s already elevated cholesterol levels do not elevate some more because HE WILL BE DOING THE DRIVING. 

(He’s actually a really solid and cautious driver. Praise you, Jesus, and Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth and good will to men, amen.)

I am still not finished with lessons that I still need to learn as his mom. And goodness me, I have more sons coming up to keep practicing. Since I don’t really know how to raise teenage girls, this is mostly for moms of boys. But, you moms of girls, maybe it will help you, too. Here’s what I have learned along the way and am trying to implement daily:

1. Don’t say much. He’s probably tuning you out after a dozen words anyway.
2. Smile more than you frown. I don’t do this enough but I’m trying.
3. Don’t turn everything into a lecture. Hashtag guilty.
4. Laugh with him as much as possible. This has saved our relationship.
5. Do not be offended. I repeat, DO NOT BE OFFENDED if he wants to talk to his dad more than you. AT LEAST HE IS STILL TALKING.

I would love to tell you that parenting gets easier. The toddler years can be tiresome because you tend to repeat the same things over and over and over again to your little one because they either flat out disobey you, forget what you said or just can’t reason yet. I’m afraid that remains the same in the teenage years. You still have to repeat the same things over and over and over again to your hairy-legged young man. Because he’s doing what he is supposed to be doing. 

He is fleeing the nest.

And good grief, mercy and grace, it is painful. Girls may have more drama but boys? Boys know how to break their momma’s heart.

Doesn’t he know that he has my heart and when he hurts, I hurt? Doesn’t he know that I know what’s best for him? Doesn’t he know that I have 28 more years of experience on this earth and he would do well to listen to me? And doesn’t he know that when he makes poor decisions, I want to run in with my super-heroine mentality and save the day? 

(Somebody get my cape.)

But he doesn’t know. Because he is not me. He is my son. He is not a parent. He is the almost grown child. He isn’t supposed to know yet. But he will know the moment he holds his firstborn child in his arms. And then, THEN, it will all come to him and he will say, “My momma wasn’t crazy after all.” And he will throw me a party.

Until then, I keep the crazy label. 

That’s okay. 

Clearly, he loves pictures with his mother.

(And I promise you he will hate that I wrote this blog post about him. So, don’t mention it, mkay?)

Scripture says in 1 Samuel 17:51 that David, the soon-to-be king of Israel but currently employed shepherd of stinky sheep, ran over to Goliath, stole his sword and cut off his head right after knocking the 9-foot giant to the ground with said stone. The stone was merely the climax leading to the end which was finalized by a sword. But it began with “little” stuff way before his brave day of battle on behalf of his people.

Baby steps.

That’s what it takes to succeed. Few people conquer great feats in one fell swoop. It takes being faithful in the little in order to see the big come to pass. And for David, it started with shepherding those dumb sheep that he protected day in and day out. He fought off bears and lions to keep them safe for that was his job. And while that may seem far from a glorious (or clean) role, he did it and it subsequently prepared him to face a giant. The courage he exhibited daily as a shepherd boy was preparing him for the biggest fight of his life. All the while, the entire Israelite army was sitting on the sidelines while a giant named Goliath came out and taunted them twice a day for 40 days.

This is life. Whether we are finishing college or raising children or changing roles or experiencing pain beyond comprehension, we have to press in every single day.

Every. Single. Solitary. Day.

Even when it seems monotonous and grueling, things are progressing. They are. Just because we take a few steps backward on certain days does not mean we haven’t made progress. It may feel like we are collecting small stones – and we very well may be. But one day some small stone will be the very object that God uses to help us kill a giant.

Friends, do not grow weary in doing good, for in the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9)

Don’t give up on what God has called you to do.

Just don’t.

At approximately 8:30 that glorious morning I was expecting to hear the following words: “You’re good to go!” Those words were going to come from the lips of my orthopedic surgeon and they were going to bring me freedom from a near 10-week sabbatical from doing anything worthwhile with my right leg due to a very severe stress fracture in my ankle.

(From the half marathon training I did for nearly 4 months that I did not get to participate in.)

(Over. It.)

Instead, two nights before on June 24, 2014, I decided to be a domestic goddess and vacuum my floors. No big deal. I can walk so vacuuming should not be an issue.

Clearly it was.

See that little metatarsal on the far left side of my foot with the crack in it? That’s what  I did while I was vacuuming my house.

Not. Joking.

Not. Joking.

Not. Joking.

Who does this? I mean, who in the world breaks another bone in the opposite foot while there is a fractured bone in the other foot? Who? Who? Who?

(Hand raised.)

So that doctor’s appt. I had scheduled on June 26th did release me from my stress fracture injury but also set up the whole process again because of my broken 5th metatarsal. And this is what I will be wearing for six weeks.

Want to borrow?

I won’t lie and say that I’m not disappointed. It was a bit of a blow to know that I will be down a while longer. I don’t like being down and sitting still too much. I have things to do. People to see. Places to go. But, I will just have to do them sitting down.

I know God will show me great things during this new trial. He will allow me to grow in areas where I need to grow but maybe didn’t know it.  And who knows, maybe all of this sitting still will allow my heart and mind to sit still so that I can clearly hear God’s voice when He speaks to my spirit.

Oh, one last thing. If you do the vacuuming in your home, tell your spouse that it’s dangerous and you can no longer do it.

You’re welcome.

Obviously, that was a pretty big deal in our lives so this has been my explanation, my excuse for many things over the past year.

Why aren’t you on social media as much? My house burned down.

Why aren’t you blogging anymore? My house burned down.

Why aren’t you answering emails faster? My house burned down.

I’d say it’s a pretty good excuse, wouldn’t you? I mean, we’ve spent the last 12 months dealing with the trauma that comes with waking up in the night to your house in flames to finding a place to live temporarily to finding a floor plan to rebuild to dealing with insurance claims and adjusters (who were wonderful, by the way) to picking out paint colors and tile to shopping for things every single day for nearly two months and several times a week for months on end to…

You get the picture.

This past year has been a rebuilding year for our family. Not just in material possessions, but also rebuilding our spirits. This kind of occurrence can take its toll and certainly did emotionally and physically.

But, spiritually?

No toll taken. It was a rich year for us with Christ as we walked this road that could have turned out differently. He was ever-present during our difficult days, very near to the broken-hearted as Psalm 34:18 promises. He guided us through rocky terrain and made a straight path for us when we couldn’t tell up from down.

And He did so much of it through His people. The hands and feet of Jesus.

I don’t know how I will ever be able to repay the friends who stayed up with us watching the firefighters battle our home fire. Or the friends that let us stay in their homes until we found another. Or the friends who brought us toiletries, a purse, a wallet, some bags and clothing shortly after the final flames went out. Or the neighbors who cleaned up our pool and got it protected  from causing danger to a sightseer. Or the friends who dropped cold, hard cash in our hands and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or the young man who mowed our yard during our construction for free.

I can’t forget about the money that came in from people and churches. Some we knew, some we didn’t know. Or the gift cards to stores that would provide the material items that a family needs to get by. Or the friends who walked through our ashes for weeks on end looking for something meaningful that would take away some of our temporal grief. Or the tech gurus at LifeChurch.tv who salvaged our home videos on a burned hard drive. Or the dozens of other things we received from friends and neighbors.

How in the world do you say thank you for all of that? I don’t know except to say the words thank you. So, thank you.

We moved into our new home five months ago. It was another dimension of healing for us when we drove back into our neighborhood to stay. And on this one year anniversary of a life-altering event, I am re-entering the blogging world. I plan to write a couple of times per week. Or maybe more.

And I’d love for you to come back around these parts when I do.

Pastor’s wives and women in ministry…do you have any plans November 11-13, 2014?

No?

Perfect!

I’d love to see you attend our Leading & Loving It Re:Treat in Las Vegas, Nevada.

I know! How fun would that be?

You will get to connect with other pastor’s wives and women in ministry and hear from our leaders, Lori Wilhite and Brandi Wilson. In addition to their cute selves, you will hear from Kerri Weems and Kay Warren!

I KNOW!

Did I mention the giveaways? Oh mercy, girl. There are so many. Books, Bible Studies, CDs, diamonds.

I. Do. Not. Lie.

But hurry, spaces are limited and we are filling up quickly. Not only that but the registration fee will increase by $24 beginning August 2nd.

Hope to see you there!

But I can’t actually recall a lot of things that really happened in 2005 or 2008 or 2012, for that matter. Nothing truly significant is indelibly written on my brain for those years. At least that I can recall. And I wouldn’t be able to pull up an old journal to verify anything that really happened.

Mainly because of the year 2013.

When January 1, 2013, rolled around, I had no idea that six months into the year our family would lose our home and all personal belongings in it to a fire. I didn’t know that on June 29th, I would spend the last day in our home in the pleasant condition it was in. I didn’t know that I would cook for the last day in that kitchen. Or wake up in my bedroom for the last time. 

You just never know what a day will bring. But, rest assured, you do know Who brings the day.

I suppose that has been what has carried our family through this past six months. It’s been trying at times. It’s been frustrating. It’s been exhausting. But it has not been devastating because of where our hope was. And is. And will be.

Our hope is in God. The King of Kings. The Creator of the universe. The All-Sufficient One. Our Abba.

Regardless of what situations years past have brought into your life, know this: He is still the same…yesterday, today and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He was with you in the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23) and He will be with you on that mountaintop that provides you miles of viewing pleasure. He will never leave you or forsake you (Joshua 1:9). 

As the hymn Great Is Thy Faithfulness says, he provides, “strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow…”

Rest in that, friend. Rest in that.

I was 19 years old when my dad died. 

I kept a few things of his that were sentimental. Like this old, gray sweatshirt that was so soft because he wore the heck out of it and for the last 24 years, I’ve worn the heck out of it. He also gave my mom a gold, diamond pendant in the shape of a heart that she passed on to me. Those things are lost now. Gone.

But probably my most favorite thing that he made was a ceramic Nativity Scene. It was beautiful. Stunning, really.

It was a cream color with a darker brown in the creases of each piece. There were camels and wise men and cows and sheep. There was a manger with the baby Jesus, his mom, Mary, and his earthly father, Joseph. 

And of course there were shepherds.

Friend, would you believe that all of the pieces were burned or broken except this shepherd? It’s got some burn marks on it but it’s lovely to me.

Isn’t that just like the Lord to show His kids that He is watching over them?

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. 
He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for you are with me.
Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23)

I feel like I have purchased so many items over the last two weeks and yet, when we move into another friend’s home next Sunday, we will easily be able to put everything we own into two cars and make the fastest moving trip known to man. Some of the shopping has been enjoyable, like when Natalie and Christi went shopping with me for clothes and dressed me up like a barbie doll and gave me a thumbs up or thumbs down as I modeled each outfit. And thank God they did. Because when you are fashionably challenged and have little to no design talent, shopping can be overwhelming and depressing.

Please don’t hear that as a complaint.

The fact that my sons are all alive and that I wasn’t planning a funeral two weeks ago has placed an unquenchable desire to offer praise and thanksgiving to God. However, this new reality that I need to replace so many material possessions just to function each day can make one’s head spin.

So, I take each day as it comes. 

When the temptation comes to think about what paint colors to choose in the home we will build or replacing Christmas decorations, I just stop and place that far away from my mind. Like five months away. That is not something I need to “commit to worrying about” as my friend Kim says. I just don’t have the mental capacity to do that. 

And quite frankly, neither do you.

How often do you find yourself going into the future in your mind and take on the concerns and cares of things that may never come? I know you do it. It’s so easy to go there. 

But allow me to encourage you to not go there. 

When you start to put together scenarios in your mind about what you think may happen, just stop. Count your blessings in the here and now. Praise God for where you are today and what He is doing in your life.

Because He is up to something good, something very good. 

Even if you can’t see it.