Parenting!

    When,  oh when, is parenting going to get easier?

                Although the invitation had been extended for a couple of weeks, my husband and I were only recently able to join his sister, Kim, at the beach. We thought our plan was perfect: drop Victoria off to join her classmates on a bus bound for the DC March for Life, then drive to Alabama.

                The day before her departure, Victoria suffered from a migraine headache triggered possibly by exhaustion, tension, or Physics. She saw a doctor, received the appropriate medication, and assured me that she was fine to travel.

                Two days later, in the middle of the American History museum, she called. As soon as I answered her call I heard sobs, followed by, “I’m so weak.”

                “Victoria, drink a real Coke. Nothing diet or caffeine-free. Sit down for 20 minutes , then see how you feel.”  I prayed with her, ended the call, and tried to control my mind. Thoughts of my child fainting in the middle of the First Ladies’ Inaugural Gowns, or passed out next to the Star Spangled Banner were stopping me from focusing on my next job: booking a flight to Washington. Well, that and pretending to be calm while shopping for golf clubs with my husband.

                About this time, I remembered something I had read in the devotional book, Streams in the Desert, Volume 2, “Quiet tension is not trust. It is compressed anxiety.” Despite my calm exterior, and a few purchases for my granddaughters, I was not quite flowing in the faith I profess. And that bothered me as much as my decision to let Victoria get on the bus. My prayers suddenly became twofold. I wanted Victoria to be able to enjoy the trip she had looked forward to for months, and I also asked for the faith to be able to handle these tiny turbulences of life with total trust. Slowly, a real faith-filled peace replaced my anxiety.

                Two hours and twelve minutes later, I finally received word from Victoria in a text message, “I’m fine now. “ And I was, too, thankfully, even before I read her text.

My future may hold many more urgent calls to my Father. Like Victoria’s call to me, they may begin with, “I’m so weak.”

I just wonder if God thinks of me and says, “When, oh when, is parenting her going to get easier?”

The Truth about Victoria's College Decision

I’m a stickler for the truth, and have occasionally investigated the stories I receive in email on www.snopes.com. It’s not a trust issue. I just don’t want to spread tales that aren’t true.

            Some of these urban legends have wonderful meanings and full circle conclusions. They would make fabulous fables. And I admit to being more than a little disappointed to learn that a cut onion placed  in my room will not really absorb the flu virus. I guess as long as I’m going for full disclosure, I should also admit that, despite snopes, I will continue to rub Vicks VapoRub on the bottom of my feet at night to prevent nighttime coughing.

            Something else I recently researched had to do with eagles. I’ve heard many interesting stories about eagles, including the belief that if an eagle strays too far from its home, pressure on its eyes urges it to return home. The suggestion being we, as Christians, likewise experience a type of pressure, or spiritual nudge,  to return to the Father.

            I love that story;  however, I’ve yet to be able to confirm it. I even asked Veronica Sylvest to check out the story with her husband and her son. Still nothing about the pressure of eagle’s eyes. I want it to be true. I want it to be true for eagles, for Christians, and for my own children.

             I have, not quite jokingly, told my children they are allowed to live within a two hour radius from me. It can be two hours away in any direction. The choice is theirs. (I’m not trying to control their lives.)

            The reason for my request is, of all things, Grandparent’s Day. When I taught, I was often upset for the children whose grandparents were unable to attend the annual celebration because they lived too far away. I decided as long as my grandchildren lived with two hours from my home, I could drive to their school for lunch, check them out of school after lunch, take them to the park, zoo, mall, and/or Chuck E. Cheese, return them to their parents, and still be able to drive home that night. (Perhaps my husband is right when he says my mind never rests.)

            Somehow, in all of my instructions about their future homes, I neglected to include conditions for college. Therefore, I blame myself for Victoria’s inclusion of Northwestern University in her list of college possibilities. Northwestern is in Natchitoches! Four hours away! What is she thinking?! (Please don’t answer.)

            When my soul was finally settled,  and I had not only accepted, but actually embraced the fact that my youngest is confident enough to consider such a move, she approached me with a simple question, “You are going to visit me if I go to Northwestern, aren’t you?” I explained the distance, the hours of driving, and the unlikelihood of a lunch date. I did add that perhaps I could plan an overnight stay every other month. Even as I was speaking, I thought, my radius has just expanded to four hours.

            And that’s the truth.

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com

Salt

I am so easily sidetracked. What was supposed to be a quiet day at home with Adeline blossomed into much more. Initially my goal was to keep my granddaughter content, happy, and quiet. Quiet. I know. An eight month old doesn’t really understand quiet. It’s just that Elise was home from college and I knew she could use the extra sleep.

            Keeping Adeline quiet involved playing on the floor, watching her drop and pick up her toys, and occasionally singing to her. The only problem was whenever I would sing, she would laugh out loud and the neighbor’s dog would bark. Instead of singing, I held out the pink toy cell phone, causing her to drop mine, and allowing me to make a call.

I was soon talking to Lisa Young and scribbling down her recipe for Chicken Enchilada soup. Or Chicken Tortilla soup. I’m not sure what it’s called; I just asked for the recipe of the soup she fed my daughter Lauren. Although I hadn’t intended on cooking, I decided to try the soup while Lisa’s instructions were fresh in my mind.

            As soon as Elise woke up, I handed Adeline to her and began to cook. All went smoothly until I had to look for a spice. This proved quite historical. In most cases, I could remember buying, but not using the spices. Lemon pepper? When did I ever use lemon pepper? One sniff of the long forgotten seasoning assured me it was well past its prime. I also found bacon flavored salt from Victoria’s pre-vegetarian days and more Italian seasoning than I’ll ever use. When I found one spice stamped with a 2008 expiration date, I began tossing spices in the trash can.

            Did the discovery of the variety of seasoning my cabinet held inspire me to want to cook more? Only in my family’s dreams. After cleansing the cabinet of stale spices, I grabbed the salt shaker and returned to the stove. As the salt flowed freely into the enchilada/tortilla soup, I thought of this simple spice and its ability to bring out the flavor in foods into which it comes in contact. In addition to flavoring foods, salt purifies, heals, preserves, creates thirst, and so much more. According to the Salt Institute, there are over 14,000 uses for salt.

            In Matthew 5:13, Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth. So what does that mean? Perhaps we should season our world, affecting  people positively, bringing out the best in everyone and every situation. Maybe it means we should preserve Godly values by countering the moral decay in society. It might also mean we should do our part to heal the hurting and wounded we encounter with the love of God. I believe if we do those things, the salt in us will also cause others to thirst for the Living Water.

            Being the salt of the earth is a task from which I cannot allow myself to become sidetracked.

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com

Telescopes

          We  have relived Christmas every night since December 25. It's really Victoria's fault. While in the midst of trying to come up with unique gifts sure to please my youngest, baby of the family, child we weren't supposed to have, vegetarian, recycler, animal advocate, coffee connoisseur, old soul daughter, she made one remark I took as a personal challenge. "Remember when I wanted a telescope?"

            I found one the next day. Online. Great deal. Grabbed a credit card, typed in a little information, and imagined the Christmas morning joy. I wasn’t at all disappointed when she opened her gift. As a bonus, her excitement was matched by my son-in-law's. It didn't take long for Frank to assemble Victoria's latest gadget. They ran outside to see what they could see. Apparently they could see a lot, which prompted Victoria's comment, "I may not have gotten a Michael Kors watch, but with this telescope I can watch Michael Kors."

            It was all going as I had planned until Victoria approached me later in the day and asked, "I love my telescope, but what made you buy it?"

            "Are you kidding me? Isn't it the thing you've always wanted?"

            "Yes," she answered. "When I was eight. But I really do love it!" It seems we all do.

Every night now, we take turns star-gazing and examining the surface of the moon. Frank even found Saturn, or so we think.

            King David may have spent a few nights under the stars before he wrote Psalm 19, "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge."

            With or without a telescope, it's impossible for me to look up into the night without thinking of the God Who created it all. Victoria's telescope just brings the beauty of the heavens a little closer. And isn't that what the first Christmas did? Didn't it bring Jesus, the bright Morning Star, a little closer to us? And shouldn't we look to Him, not just on Christmas Day, but every day?

            Let's relive Christmas, appreciating the life of Jesus, every day. And while we do that, Frank will likely continue to anticipate next year as he wonders, "What did Victoria want when she was nine? I can't wait to find out!"

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com

Which road to travel during 2013?

The day's agenda included a trip to Hattiesburg, Mississippi to pick up my daughter, Elise. Two hours there. Two hours back. Knowing the trip home would be spent hearing about Elise's Atlanta visit, I used the time driving to Hattiesburg to think, pray, and read the signs. Although I didn't need a thing, after learning of the places I could eat, shop, or fill up my tank, I became tempted to stop. A few billboards later, I began to think of these little towns along the way. Places I had never visited. Points of interest I have previously zoomed by. I began to wonder if I was missing out on anything. Then, in the time it took me to whiz by another announcement of a nearby McDonald's, I began to think of my trip a little like my life. Well, all of our lives.

Sometimes it's easy to stay on that straight and narrow path, never ever deviating, eyes on the prize, full speed ahead. At other times we may stray, momentarily distracted, but never veering too far, and quickly returning to the main road. And then there are those times when we lose focus and leave the path, sidetracked by the next pretty sign promising another adventure. Once there, disenchantment sets in. Or boredom. And the place seems as flat as the billboard which lured us. Then we move on to the next new attraction, the main road growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, destinations, missions, goals delayed and sometimes forgotten.

It's almost time to turn the calendar page to 2013. The optimists among us view it as a huge gift which will slowly reveal itself. The pessimists are waiting for social, economic, or personal disaster. Others are just surprised that the Mayans were wrong and the world didn't end.

How do you view the New Year? Which road will you travel? What's your goal for 2013? Restoration of a relationship? Starting or finishing a degree? Losing weight? Gaining financial freedom? Reading a book? Writing a book? Completing repairs on your home or taking a trip? What is it?

Write it down. Read it in the morning. Take daily steps toward your dream, and do not wander from its completion. How much faster it is to arrive at our destination when we stay on course. Let's enter the New Year with a purpose, a vision, a definite goal.

If 2013 goes as well as my trip to Hattiesburg, I will not only complete my objectives, but arrive at them on time. I'm ready. Are you?

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com

Challenges at Christmastime

The unthinkable has filled our minds. The unimaginable has not only become our reality, it has placed our nation in a season of simultaneous mourning, probing, questioning, and arguing over both the cause of the attack and the method of preventing another. While security guards were watching over designer fashion filled boutiques, pretty rocks in jewelry stores, and Dorothy's ruby slippers, twenty-six defenseless lives, thought to be safe in an elementary school in the idyllic town of Newtown, Connecticut, were tragically ended. If the existence of evil was ever questioned, it has been clearly answered. But we didn't need this massacre to reveal the reality of darkness for in John 10:10, Jesus warned us of the intention of the devil, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

While satan seeks to destroy, Jesus brings the fullness of His life. Especially at this time of the year, my thoughts return to His arrival on our planet, and I cannot think this without regard to the woman chosen to be His mother. Life must have looked pretty good to Mary before the angel's visit. Her engagement to Joseph was probably the fulfillment of her dream. Then the Holy Spirit surrounded her, the power of God overshadowed her, and Jesus, the Word in flesh, was implanted in her. Her dream was about to take on incredible new dimensions. The Word inside of her caused her to grow, but not just physically. He changed her plans, and challenged the thinking of those with whom she was in contact.

A few months later, while most of the world was sleeping, she brought forth Life. Because there was no room elsewhere, Jesus, the Light of the world, was humbly born in a stable. The One Who had already changed her was about to shake the community, and eventually the world.

While the story of Jesus' life on Earth begins with Christmas, it doesn't end there. He didn't remain in the manger. Jesus grew, leading a sinless life as He taught, healed, delivered, and loved. He then became the ultimate sacrifice as He willingly died on the cross for our sins.

May the fullness of His life envelop ours. Maybe we be ever challenged to make room in our hearts for Him, to allow Him to change us, enlarge our visions, and challenge our thoughts. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, may we model our lives after His and seek to be a light in the dark places.

So while those in authority strategize, and they should, and parents question the security measures of the schools their children attend, and they should, some have suggested we agree in prayer for our nation. And we should.

Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com

Making A List

My family has taken group texting to a whole new level. Ann, my youngest sister, sent a message to ten of us suggesting a time and place to pull names for Christmas gift giving. 166 text messages later (I couldn't believe it either!) it was done. Not only did we break a family, and possibly a world record for the longest group message in the shortest amount of time, we have taken our tradition of pulling names to the internet.

            Brittany, Ann's daughter, registered our family's information on www.drawnames.com, a site which does the name picking for you. There's even a place to specify immediate family members so that they don't get each other's name. Once the information is logged into the system, an email sends you the name you (or the computer) picked and a link to their wish list. The best part is the ability to view everyone's gift list.

            Frank's list was quite revealing. Normally a Home Depot gift card is the perfect present for him. Still in the midst of repairing their home from Hurricane Isaac's visit, it seems as though he's ready for a little diversion. My son-in-law requested a gift card from Academy, an LSU or Saints shirt, and, I quote, "socks, because Monique doesn't wash mine."

            My niece Mattie's list was the perfect ending to the night. After listing a few of her favorite things, she concluded with, "Don't stress… grateful for anything. J" It made me smile, too, Mattie.

            Gift-giving shouldn't be stressful; it's truly one of my favorite things. Gift-receiving, on the other hand, has occasionally induced stress. A recent text message from Lauren read, " You'll love your Christmas present. I've been saving up for it." Now that scares me. Please, Lauren, please put that money away for Adeline's education. Trust me, you'll need it.

            At least Lauren's text was better than the comment I've occasionally heard while being handed a gift, "When you open this, you'll cry." What? Talk about pressure! Their expectation of a dramatic reaction leaves me wishing the gift was the ability to weep on demand.

            In the midst of all of the Christmas preparations, I am often visited by the questions, how much of this celebration is really about the birth of Jesus? How many parties have completely ignored the guest of honor? At how many birthday celebrations have I arrived empty handed? What would be on Jesus' wish list?

            Maybe one of the answers would be daily communication with His children. Reading my children's text messages, answering their phone calls (including the one Lauren accidentally made to me while dropping her phone in her boot while at work) and real, live visits with my family and friends are gifts I hope to never take for granted. Even those 166 messages. I'd like to think I've met my personal goal of praying and just talking to Jesus as much as I interact with others, however I'm sure I've fallen short on many occasions.

            So what am I going to do this season? I'm going to continue to enjoy the decorations, attempt to make pralines, buy a few more gifts, savor the family moments, continue to search for the white mesh ribbon I put around the front door last year, and most of all, I will lengthen and strengthen my communication with the One for Whom we celebrate December 25^th. I hope to take my relationship with Jesus to a whole new level