Our Friendship

“I should’ve confronted him the first time he said something like that,” I said while plopping myself onto the leather chaise lounge chair. I was being billed by the hour for this, mostly one-way conversation so I felt the need to get right to the point. “Are you talking about John?” The woman behind the mahogany desk picked up her overpriced pen to scribble something down. It was her job to find out what was wrong with me. Over the past two months, she had been piecing together scenes from my past twenty-five years, trying to make some sense out of the giant, chaotic puzzle. There had been minor breakthroughs, but she had yet to discover why I was constantly running from relationships. John was a fairly new topic of our discussions. My eyes focused on the framed certificate on the office wall—Doctorate in Clinical Psychology from the University of Washington. A fellow Husky alumnus. “If I’d only spoke up earlier, things could’ve turned out so differently,” I mused aloud. As I readjusted my position on the chaise, my vocalized thoughts sidled slowly to the first time I met John; my first day at Lambley High. ************** I was so timid that first day of class. The heathens operated by a whole new set of rules and I was their newest classmate. I eyed an open seat near the back of the classroom and parked myself in the theater-style, plastic chair. The Lucky jeans I had on felt comfortably masculine. No more crossing my legs like a lady. No more rules of knee length skirts. I was free from that private school dictatorship; seven years under that regime was enough. It had almost broken me. It was more than just the ridiculous rules that outlawed rock music, and required the volleyball players to wear culottes that flowed down past the kneepads. I had seen the same twelve faces in my class since grade school. The same faces that had witnessed my excessively oily face turn into a perpetual constellation map. My face had cleared and this was my big break: senior year. A loud ringing perforated my train of thought. I hadn’t heard that Pavlovian sound since I was in fourth grade. The academy couldn’t afford bells. I continued to reminisce about how I wound up with the heathens while a paunchy, balding man made his way to the podium. That summer, my dad had advocated for my transition to public school. The academy wasn’t accredited, and the thought of me not having a state recognized high school diploma was more than my education-oriented dad could take. My mom and step father reluctantly agreed to let me go, but it had to be the high school in Lambley. The town of Lambley had a population of 3,652. It was a farming community and a majority of its citizens were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. My family lived in the neighboring town of Lackland River. “Fifty percent of the girls that go to Lackland River get pregnant,” my step father had stated as if he were quoting the Bible. Where he got those statistics, I had no clue. I was just glad to be out of skirts and wearing a whole new wardrobe of jeans, Doc Martens and tight, designer t-shirts. A collaboration of clothes with a clear message of “screw your dress code” aimed at my former academy. “You got any money to pitch in for the keg?” A baritone voice interrupted my thoughts for the second time, and I felt a slight kick to the bottom of my boot. I looked up to the vision of The Thing from the Fantastic Four. A mammoth figure who appeared to have a disproportionate upper body workout regimen. A true muscle head. He wore an oversized Hawaiian shirt to hide his weightier mid-section. His hair was neatly cut, parted and gelled like a jock from the 60’s era, and his forehead showed three or four trenches. His physique would have been intimidating if it wasn’t for his child-like demeanor; like Lennie from Of Mice and Men. The squint of his eyes indicated his smile while his lips revealed no emotion. His name was John Driver. John Deer Driver. Growing up in a farm town could do that to a person. What puzzled me was whether parents named their children after farm equipment as a cruel joke, or because that’s all their brains could come up with. “No,” I replied in a sweet, yet matter-of-fact tone. The only thing a naïve, Christian girl who had never been offered a beer in her life could manage to say. I have no idea what initially drew us together. Perhaps I needed a mouthpiece next to me who had the courage to say the vulgar things that I was thinking. Or maybe John needed an attractive ingénue by his side to build his high school image. Whatever the reason, it felt so natural to us; regardless of how peculiar it looked to everyone else -- John, the loud, loveable brute with a protective nature, and me, the quiet, acquiescent scholar – walking arm in arm down the hallway. We laughed at the rumors that we were dating; our involvement with each other was based on a mutual intrigue of contrasting personalities. I loved the way his cavernous voice made it impossible for him to whisper in class; how an exciting thought could cause him to yell out, “JESS” like he had Tourette’s. John spoke every thought out loud. This was antithetical of my introspective communication skills. I analyzed nearly everything I said before I spoke to make sure I wouldn’t look foolish for saying it. His humorous outbursts offset my analytical side and put me at ease. John would give me soothing head massages in class while recommending Herbal Essence to make my hair softer and more aromatic. He could play with my long, blonde locks for hours in class. *************** “So when did you begin to see signs of the real John?” The psychologist asked as she rifled through a stack of papers. She had heard the highlights of my relationship with John, but now she was searching for details. I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I didn’t want to talk about this. John’s a great guy, hadn’t she been listening? Why did I have to be so judgmental of him? I sat up on the lounge chair and tucked my feet underneath me. “When he told me that my head was shaped like a nigger’s.” The words came out sluggishly, each one adding to the pain in my stomach. When giving me one of his head massages in government class, John’s fingers had studied the back of my skull near the nape of my neck. He laughed as he told me that “I probably had a nigger as one of my ancestors.” I had felt a slight pin prick to my psyche when John said it. Although I’d briefly heard about phrenology somewhere, I didn’t exactly know what he meant. But I did understand that ugly ‘N’ word. I inwardly justified the nasty comment away to keep our friendship alive and remained silent. John had just found another way to tease me. I focused my attention on the material being presented at the front of the classroom. “I should have confronted him when he said it.” My thoughts continued aloud as I reminisced about our unique relationship. *************** As soon as we met, John made it his mission to reform my prudish, reserved ways. He was always challenging my confidence level by making me perform impossible tasks in public. “Jess, let’s run down the middle of the mall like airplanes. Ready, go!” “No, I don’t wanna….” Before I got to finish my refusal, he was flying ahead of me. Some invisible hand seemed to push me to follow his lead. “How embarrassing,” I exclaimed after our flight finished. But I had never felt so free. No lady-like reputation to worry about, no fear of mall security chasing me down; I was getting used to my new wings. We hit up the local 24 hour grocery store one evening for some pralines and cream, chocolate syrup and maraschino cherries. We grabbed an empty shopping cart and headed down the first aisle. John spontaneously jumped into the cart. “Push me, Jess!” “What! No Way! “Do it!” His commanding excitement persuaded me to grab the handle bar. I gave a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching and then took off like I was running the 100 meter dash. There was that freedom. Something inside of me had wanted to do all of these crazy antics John was having me do all along. I just needed that authoritative baritone to give me no other choice. “Watch the corner! The cherries are in aisle 5.” John’s massive body was shoved into the cart. It reminded me of my childhood days of squeezing into cardboard boxes and then wiggling my way out. We were quickly approaching a customer who appeared to be looking for a certain brand of olive oil. “Get out of the way! What are you, Mormon?!” John’s voice echoed through the store. The surprised customer jumped out of the way just in time. *************** “So how did it make you feel when John made that derogatory remark toward the LDS faith?” The psychologist’s question surprised me. I wasn’t sure she had been following along with the story due to her previous distraction of paperwork. “Embarrassed at first. But the more he said it, the more desensitized I got to its meaning, I guess.” I hung my head down and shook it slowly. I remembered the times that I had laughed when he shouted this belittling epithet in place of the word, “idiot” or “moron.” I’d just shrugged it off as something a small town guy would say, but I was just as guilty as him. I wanted to think good things about John. I wanted to remember the good times and how he positively impacted my life. I glanced over at the psychologist’s desk. There stood a picture of a girl around the age of six or seven with blonde ringlets; she was wearing a tiny tiara. It brought me back to senior prom. *************** Prom was a new experience for me. I had never been to a formal dance before. Dancing was considered sinful at the academy. The sensual beats of rock and roll, hip hop and R & B were the devil’s tool to an adolescent’s moral demise. First came gyrating hips, next sexual moves between couples on the dance floor, and then a large percentage of the girls would wind up pregnant—at least that’s how the staff portrayed the effects of such a sinful act. Never mind that King David danced naked before the Lord, the school skipped over that scripture verse like a memory lost through PTSD. “Jess, I’m gonna nominate you for prom queen,” John vowed in his deep voice. “Shut up, that’s ridiculous.” I was used to John’s jocular comments but this was just absurd. Although I had gained respect throughout the year by being involved in basketball and track, the girls at Lambley had grown up together since kindergarten. Each one dreamed of what that tiara would feel like on their head. They wanted to have the single spotlight shining on them when the king and queen’s first dance was announced. I was scared of the spotlight. “No, serious. I’m gonna nominate you, Jess.” The next thing I knew, I was standing in the spotlight with a tiara on my head dancing with the prom king to Bruce Springsteen’s, “Secret Garden.” As the surreal night continued I remember thinking, Is this a joke or did John really have that much influence over the student body? I was just an insecure nobody that stared at the floor when I talked last year at the academy, now I was royalty at Lambley. Thanks to John. *************** Why couldn’t I just remember those types of ‘John memories?’ I asked myself. There were so many of those. But I wasn’t in this 32nd floor office with amazing views of the Puget Sound to just talk about the good times. I had to, what did the psychologist say, ‘confront my past so that I could face my future.’ “Tell me about your last encounter with John.” She interrupted my thoughts. My mind went blank for a second and I felt at peace. But then all of the memories of that one winter night came flooding back and I felt a sadness surround me. I laid back down on the chaise and divulged the details of my last meeting with John. *************** After high school, John and I moved to the capital city of Treetop, about two hours away from Lambley. We each got jobs and continued on with our friendship as if high school had never ended. We stayed the night at each other’s houses and tried on avocado and chocolate face masks, sampled all 31 flavors at Baskin Robbins, and even sneaked into as many movies as we could before we got caught. He had changed me and he knew it. “I was the reason you got to be prom queen.” John would announce proudly as if I was his creation. Although I would never admit it to him, I was partially his creation. Long gone were the days of not being able to say what I thought, or not being able to walk into a place without makeup. John had rid me of any superficial or reserved inclinations. I was proud to be vocal and forthright. We often talked about marriage. Marrying someone you went to high school with was considered an ignorant act, but weren’t you supposed to marry your best friend? John was more than just fun to hang out with. He was a protector. And he would tell me when I was completely wrong in the most humorous way. Did it really matter that he was a little politically incorrect at times? That answer came three years after high school. Guy’s night was in full effect. A gambling table, under par strippers from the local club, an abundance of Coronas and Jagermeister, and raucous alternative music blasting in the basement of the host’s house. “Jess, come pick me up.” John sloppily commanded. “Is the party done?” “No, you are way hotter than the strippers and I want to show you off to the guys.” I abhorred the thought of men paying women to dance for them. It reminded me of my reluctant trip to a strip club in Vegas a couple years earlier, when I witnessed a guy wadding up a $20 bill and throwing it at the ass of a girl who was grinding on the dance floor on all fours. Look how far women’s lib has brought us! But somehow the idea that John had created me, made me pick up the car keys and follow his order. As I arrived, the strippers were leaving and the gambling commenced. Grabbing the Corona that was offered to me, I plopped down on one of the metal chairs around the gambling board. John was in the state of limbo between drunkenness and exhaustion. His words were garbled together and his eyes fluttered a few times when he blinked. The boys were teaching me to play some dice game. Toward the end of the fifth round, John began to yell out to no particular player, “You fucking cock-sucking Jew bastard!” A conversation with eyes began at the silent table. I was the recipient of most of those piercing, inaudible comments. They seemed to ask me the question that I had avoided answering for the last few years: How can you put up with that type of behavior? My forced smile couldn’t mask the awkwardness of the scenario. “I think it’s time to go,” I concluded. *************** “How did that make you feel?” An unoriginal question posed by the psychologist; one that hardly seemed to be worth the 32nd floor fees. I searched the ceiling for the right words. “I guess a little resolute and disloyal at the same time,” I replied after two whole minutes of silence. I had known for a couple years that John would continue to blurt out that hate speech; he was what academics called “institutionalized.” Maybe if I would have confronted him back in high school, things would’ve turned out differently. Maybe he would have stopped the comments for me. “Has he ever tried to reconnect with you?” She seemed a bit more attentive now. “He texts or Facebooks me every three months or so. Normally I either ignore him or stick to general topics like ‘how’s work’ or ‘what’s new in Treetop.’” Since I’d moved to Seattle shortly after our last encounter, I’d grown up. I had wanted to get away from the small town life and go to college among a more diverse population. But I couldn’t forget about John. He had changed my life. Didn’t I owe him more than some superficial conversation about the new traffic signals that were going to be installed at the corner of 17th and Freemont Avenue? “Well, that’s all the time we have for today. I’ll email you some visualization techniques that will help you see yourself in a healthy relationship, okay?” The clock on the wall read seven minutes past one. I gathered myself up off the lounge chair, straightened my slacks and walked toward the door. “Thanks,” I replied. As I passed the psychologist’s desk, I took one last look at the beauty queen and the shiny tiara neatly placed amid her curled, blonde locks. A smile washed over my face as I imagined her standing in a spotlight. I opened the door and my fingers began to dial a number on my cell phone that hadn’t been entered in years.

Record

Sandra turns her head and sneaks a swipe at her tear-streaked mascara just before he rounds the corner. She opens her quivering hands to catch the boy as he high jumps up into them and plants a smooch on her lips. She forces a smile. Before her veneer of contentment vanishes, Sandra musters up a merry sounding, “It’s time to get ready for bed!” The few minutes that she has alone with her thoughts drag on. Sandra replays parts of the recent phone conversation over in her head. “Sandy, I know there’s no good time to tell you this, but I’ve found someone else.” Her husband’s words had left her momentarily paralyzed. Sandra knew that there had been turmoil in the marriage over the past few months, and Don had been spending more time at the office. But this news had genuinely caught her by surprise. “We’ve been together ten years, Don. How can you just call it quits so easily?” Her voice had become squeaky while the tone clearly implied the plea, ‘please give me another chance.’ “I’m sorry. I’ll pick up my things early next week. Tell Junior I love him.” And then Sandra had heard a click followed by a dial tone. Junior! For some reason, all she can think about is how the news will affect their son. Why did Don have to call right before Junior’s bedtime? Couldn’t he have waited until afterward? More thoughts jostle around in her mind; a pinball bouncing from bumper to flipper to spinner. How will this affect our dear boy? He's such a happy kid. Please God, protect him from self-blame and bitterness. Sandra unfurrows her brow as she hears a scrubbing sound coming down the hallway. A smile washes over her face as she watches her little boy hurriedly brush over his incisors and completely skip the molars. While he hesitantly passes the toothbrush to his mother, the four year old prepares to make a getaway. Their nightly ritual. She eventually catches up with the bolt of energy that dodged her for a good five minutes and splays the boy across her lap. Now it is her turn to do a more extensive detailing of his mouth. He feigns a struggle as if she was the actual dentist, torturing him with drills and needles; but this is just the game they play. It has come time for his second wardrobe change of the day. His pajama personas vary nightly. Superheroes play a major role in his sleep attire; Batman the victor tonight. Continuing on to a calmer activity, the twosome retires to the child’s bed to read the story of butterflies’ life cycle. Story time is interactive. Sandra praises Junior for knowing what a pupa is and encourages his curiosity about the different markings on each individual style of butterfly’s wings. As her son shares his recent sighting of a pupa at Grammy’s house with her, Sandra can’t help but make a mental memory. This is her favorite time of day; their evening traditions. How she would love to continue their nightly customs for twenty more years. Brushing battles, chasing each other, and reading adventures. But she knows that time and aging are inseparable. And she can only hope that Don’s recent news won’t age Junior any faster. When the caterpillar has finally become an adult butterfly, the lights are dimmed and hugs are exchanged. Lying next to her most precious gift, Sandra begins to caress Junior’s long fingers. “One day, these hands are going to do great things,” she prophesies. The child’s figure rises in the darkened room. “Like juggling?”

Blessed

You may ask me if I believe in God,
I say yes because He answered my prayers.
Just tonight, I witnessed the sensitivity
Of my boy, the boy who was rescued by
The prompting of God's Helper...His Spirit.
Out of the blue, my boy thanked God for his
Family; his number one joy in life. And each
Day this boy surprises me with his brilliance,
Sensitivity and extroverted personality.
Why am I surprised when these are the very
Qualities that I spoke over him before he
Was born? I would have to say that my God
Has given me a boy 'beyond that I could
Have asked or imagined.' I am humbled to be
This child's mother. I am grateful for the
Support system we have been provided with.
And I am amazed at the lessons which I have
Learned from 'the mouth of this babe.' I am
By no means a perfect mother; perhaps I was
Not meant to be a parent. Yet, my God has
Shown His grace and gifted me with a child I
Did not deserve. My heart is continually filled
With love everytime I look upon my boy's face.
Is this the way God feels when He looks at us?
Does He continually sing our praises and brag
About our accomplishments? I'd like to think
So. Not because of what we've done, but simply
Who we are: His children. Regardless, I cannot
Deny that I have been undeservedly blessed; a gift
Of favor that constantly amazes me.

Consensual Control

Deliberate on the extent of your consensual control
A matrimonial vow to obey can collar your freedom
Rules must be set before you play a role

There is nothing wrong with a submissive soul
If the servile one masters their character’s craft
Deliberate on the extent of your consensual control

A famine of fear between the two players is the goal
Tethered by a mutual commitment to the game
Rules must be set before you play a role

Shackled to your spouse can take its toll
A high pain tolerance can help the bond last
Deliberate on the extent of your consensual control

Can you be their ‘Puppy,’ or at times their ‘Troll;’
Showered with kisses then emotionally ignored?
Rules must be set before you play a role

This game of life doesn’t have to be dull
Just know your limits and always remember—
Deliberate on the extent of your consensual control
Rules must be set before you play a role

Elemental Transformation

Her ever focus on the floor, her omission of opinion,
She was as talc or gypsum;
Fragile from his scoffs at other women her size,
And her lack of education.
Temperature—
Her attention averted to their unplanned newborn,
Only two hands to take care of the boy.
Ignoring the quiet whispers of condemnation;
The girl’s tenacity growing as obsidian.
Pressure—
Closest kin instantly her accepting allies;
A parish of parents.
Encouraged by this entourage,
Her textural transformation becomes crystalline.
Association of new elements—
Making decisions for her little family,
A gem has formed.
Polished by tumbling and getting back up;
Valuable and desired.
Refined.

My Mommy

Over the last couple of Mother's Days, I have explained how insanely in love I am with my son, Reuel. But this year, I have to give credit where credit is due...to my own mother, for showing me what unconditional love is all about.

Dear Mommy,

First of all, I want to tell you that I love you dearly. We have always maintained our friendship; a bond which I cherish deeply. Even when I was a teenager and we got into fights before school, you could always count on an apologetic call from me before lunch began. I could never stay mad at you. Your peaceful spirit and wise advice helped me overcome the anger and impatience inside me, and I felt much better after I made that repentant call.

As I became an adult, unfortunately there were some incorrect decisions that I made; and this Mother's Day one specific memory of your loving kindness toward me comes to mind. It is of the day I called you up and relayed the news of my pregnancy; the day I walked out of the abortion clinic and decided to keep my baby. I was afraid to call you, ashamed and scared. You could have judged me for my actions, you could have turned your back on me. But as my mommy, you knew exactly what I needed...unconditional love. You insisted that we should meet up that weekend; a time I will never forget. I was all alone with a racing mind and a heavy heart, but you came to my rescue...to my baby's rescue. You spoke words of encouragement and told me that you 'felt a connection' with my baby already. How could you know that was what I needed to hear? A mother's love.

Over the next few months you taught me to pray over my baby and to speak over him. I was a faithful student under your tutelage. You helped me become excited for his grand entrance into this world by choosing his nickname, Roo; thereby, making me realize that I, indeed, had a live baby growing inside of me. Mommy, you were the best birthing partner an expectant mother could ask for. You took me to Confident Birthing classes and stood by me when I was the only single mother in that course. You helped me to become completely confident in my pregnancy and labor; I was not afraid or uncertain in my birthing plan.

As I look back over my pregnancy labor, I remember one distinct act you did that meant the world to me...you unclenched my fists to help me relax. This act symbolizes your entire role in the pregnancy, labor, birth and life of my son. By metaphorically 'unclenching my fists' through teaching me about parenting, being available to help me watch him and most importantly, loving both of us, you have helped me relax as a mother and raise a boy with a beautiful spirit. We will be forever grateful for your love, compassion and support and for being the third part to our Roo Sandwich.

I love you, Mommy! Happy Mother's Day!

Love,

Miss Jillian

Fantastic Four

Precious boy, today you are a FANTASTIC FOUR year old.
As I reflect on your life, I can't help but smile;
Of course, ALL children are a blessing from God,
But Reuel, I have been personally blessed by your presence.

From the moment you entered this world, you just knew what to do.
Breastfeeding...no problem, Your first steps...right on schedule
Potty training...smooth sailing, Making new friends...you are Mr. Gregarious.
This inexperienced momma was blessed with a quick learner.

Your joyous countenance creates a sense of unity.
Your excitement to visit all of your relatives has fortified my own bond with them.
Prejudicial bondages have even been broken by people who have encountered your smile.
You have been blessed with the joy of the Lord; its effects are contagious.

The sensitivity within you quells my moments of impatience and self-doubt.
Your encouraging words spoken in soft, confident tones bring me to tears,
Your arms wrapped around me and the kisses you plant on my cheeks are heavenly.
Through your embraces, I am blessed with a supernatural peace.

Your teachable heart and obedient nature are currently being cultivated.
As we work on these issues, I recognize and appreciate your willingness to comply.
I am confident that your character will reflect respectfulness and a zeal to learn.
For I am blessed with many family members to help with my consistency in parenting.

Reuel William, you are truly FANTASTIC at age four.
Your birth story was inspiring, but your amazing purpose has yet to be fulfilled.
May you continue to bring joy, peace and unity to everyone around you,
And may FANTASTIC blessings follow you to five, six, seven and beyond!

Planting for Your Future

Earlier on this summer, I noticed that Mr Roo loved to dig in a little plot of soil right next to our small patio. He would take his toy rake and spade and just sit out in the sunlight, intently shoveling and moving the dirt around. We had been reading a book in the evenings about the life cycle of plants and he seemed to be fascinated with the process. So, I decided that we should cultivate our little plot of ground and he could see a life cycle first hand. Initially, the intention was to start off with a seed and watch it grow through each phase; however, because we got a late start...we bought a small tomato plant. Each day, Mr Roo would go out and water the plant and make sure it had plenty of fresh soil around it. The plant began to grow. After returning from one of our weekend summer getaways, I noticed that bugs had destroyed the base of one of the main stems. So, I had to do some major surgery and the plant was significantly cut down to size.

I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed and began to seriously doubt whether we would see any tomatoes by the end of the season. Still, I had to show my boy the lesson of perserverance. Every morning we would go out to check on the little plant. It began to grow taller, but no buds could be seen for a couple weeks. Again, I was disappointed, but we kept on nurturing our little tomato plant. Soon, we saw little flowers begin to bloom; this was followed by mini pea-sized green tomatoes growing where the flowers had been. How exciting! Our persistance was paying off. But then a GIANT wind storm came up where fences were knocked down and tree branches were broken off and scattered everywhere. I was convinced that our little tomato plant was a goner. The next day, I looked out our back door and miraculously it was still standing. We stabilized it with part of a fishing pole rod and it now continues to grow taller and the tomatoes are looking quite nice. It now appears that we will see a harvest of ripe tomatoes before the end of the season. Our little plant fought its way back from a slow start, creatures attempting to eat away at its foundation and adverse weather conditions to become a healthy, fruit-producing crop.

Early on in this cultivating process, I began to see a coorelation between working toward our goals and dreams in life and this survivor of a plant. Some of us may have started down our path a bit slower than others; sometimes due to our own decisions and others may have encountered unavoidable obstacles. But ultimately it's up to each one of us to decide whether or not we're even going to START down our path toward our dreams.

Once we've decided to proceed, there can be much opposition. People who are not goal-oriented often attempt to derail us through their vocal criticism, inconsequential distractions or even more blatant attacks against us in an effort to destroy our plans for the future. Perhaps these people have already begun to successfully 'eat away' at our base. We've allowed them to diminish our self confidence, focus and even our inital enthusiasm toward reaching our target goal. We can STILL get back on track by pruning these people or their negative ideals from our lives and erecting safeguards around us to prohibit the recurrence of these distractions again. These safeguards can be anything from adopting a more encouraging set of friends to building ourselves up with positive affirmations; actions and surroundings that revolve around optimism.

However, unexpected storms arise throughout everyone's lives. We can limit the effects of these disasters by building and cultivating our foundations so that we are not easily uprooted or swayed. The biblical parable of the wise man building his house on the rock versus the foolish man who builds his on the sand speaks to the importance of foundation-building. Our goals must be built solidly on ethical and honest bases to withstand lifes tumultuous tempests.

Perservering through all of these obstacles leads not only to your desired goal, but more importantly, it builds character within you. Through achieving your dreams by these means, you are less likely to take things for granted and more amenable to assisting and encouraging others to accomplish their goals and dreams as well.

Our little tomato plant served not only as a personal inspiration to continue on toward my educational goals, but it helped me recognize, appreciate and prepare for the different phases I'll encounter on my path to success.

AND...Mr Roo and I cannot wait to make tasty BLT's with our very own home-grown tomatoes!

To Forgive Or Not To Forgive

Peace
Apology Accepted
Sincere And Humble
Turn The Other Cheek
Love Those Who Persecute You
Forgive And You Will Be Forgiven
Not Seven Times, But Seventy Times Seven
Eye For Eye, Tooth For Tooth
Vengence With A Despiteful Heart
"You Can Never Change"
Pride And Resentment
Throwing Stones
Bitterness

First Memory

What was your first memory? How old were you when it occurred? I can remember that mine took place when I was somewhere around 3-4 years old. Our family was living in Germany and my oldest brother and 2 older sisters locked my brother and me up in the attic of our house. I remember that they had us both climb up the folding stairs to our attic and they locked the door once we had climbed up. I'm not saying that this incident traumatized me or caused me to act irrationally in my adult years and I love my older siblings to this day, but what a first memory. One thing is for certain, I will always remember my first childhood memory; it sticks with you as a monumental remembrance of the starting point of your formative years.

Anyday, my son could start to remember what occurs in his life. Today for the first time, I began to wonder what his first memory will be. Will it be making friends at the park? How about swimming at the local pool with his cousins? Could his first memory be singing 'Jesus Loves Me' at school?

Although I cannot be around him 24/7, in my absence, I do my best to have my son surrounded by positive influences, loving family members and godly instructors who teach Reuel about Jesus' love for him. In addition, I have decided that I need to make a more deliberate attempt to create a more positive, loving and Christ-centered atmosphere in our household when I am available to take care of him; for these are the characteristics that I desire my son to possess throughout his life. Furthermore, I choose to make a more concentrated effort to speak positively about his paternal family no matter the circumstances that may occur between them and me; Reuel needs to know that both sides of his family love him dearly and want to see him succeed in life.

Reuel's first memory may not determine the outcome of his entire life, but it will always be with him. Why not make it a positive memory; one that is worth remembering?

Stronger

Girl, you are strong.
As you reminisce on the past, don't regret.
It's easy to beat yourself up,
To revisit your failures
Or to listen to what society says you should be.

Instead, tell yourself:

Girl, you are beautiful.
No matter your shape, size, color or complexion,
You were made for an important purpose.
Hold your head up high,
For you are loved by the Almighty God, Himself.

Girl, listen to God,
Not some ticking time clock to schedule your life's actions.
He has the perfect plan for your life.
Rely on the sound of His voice for timing and guidance.
It will lead you down a path of peace and true happiness.

Girl, stand your ground.
Stick up for truth and righteousness;
Let words of wisdom proceed from your mouth,
Never dwell on criticism,
For you are a daughter of the Most High.

Girl, follow your dreams.
God has put a talent and a dream inside each one of us.
Become educated and follow the path He leads you down.
Ignore the pessimistic chatter around you;
Strive to become the best in your field.

Girl, you get stronger each and every day.
Surrounding yourself with other women of strength,
Casting aside self-doubt;
Speaking and meditating on the Truth,
You will not be held back.

Girl, pass this message on to other women.
Encourage them to progress in life,
Inspire them to follow your example.
Become the confident women you were created to be;
Celebrate by leading a life of richness and strength.

Not too Late

As many of you may know, I FINALLY made the committment and enrolled in the local junior college here in the Treasure Valley this semester. I am very excited. I've allowed a lot of negativity, criticism and mindless activities to distract me over the past decade, but I am happy to be back on track.

However, my decision to continue my education didn't come over night. I battled several mental roadblocks over the years. I struggled with self doubt: 'Would I be able to go back and succeed in school after all of these years?' Insecurity: 'Most of my former classmates have Bachelor degrees or their Masters; I will be starting over with many teenagers in my class.' Fear of debt: 'College tuition will put me in so much debt and I just can't handle all of the stress that financial bondage will bring upon me.' And worst of all, I struggled with thoughts of stagnancy: 'I'm a hard worker and have always successfully held down a couple jobs at a time; why do I need to go to college?'

All of these thoughts and fears prohibited me for years from developing my God given gifts of writing and memorization at a higher education level. Near the middle of last year, I came to the realization that my job that I'd had and absolutely loved for years could not pay me what I needed to make to send my son to daycare. I began to pray for God's direction, for a new job and for our needs to be met. I felt the answer was clear to me; I needed to go back to school. It wasn't just so I could be able to provide for my family. It was so much more than that. I had mentally resigned myself to be a hardworker, yet with no real thought or important opinion. I labeled myself as a person who was one anxiety attack away from the psych ward. And I lacked any real committment or focus in my life.

It was the perfect time for me to start over. As soon as I allowed God to direct my path and started thanking Him for His leading and provision, it's as if blessings, peace and favor began to flow into my life. Famous author, Og Mandino wrote, "Count your blessings. Once you realize how valuable you are and how much you have going for you, the smiles will return, the sun will break out, the music will play, and you will finally be able to move forward the life that God intended for you with grace, strength, courage, and confidence." This is my passage. I smile bigger, the music now plays sweeter and I am moving forward not only in my education, but forward in God. Another Mandino quote says this, "There is an immeasurable distance between late and too late." I may be a little late when it comes to going back to school and getting back on track with the Lord. But I have a merciful and loving God who has shown me that as long as I'm alive, it's never too late to run back into His arms and He will lead me down another rewarding and abundant path in life.

Obedience starts with YOU

Recently,I've been working with my nearly 3 year old son on the concept of obedience. As any normal child, he's at the stage where he's learning that he's not an appendage of his mom and he actually has a mind of his own. So for instance, when momma says that he needs to turn off the TV because it's time to eat, he naturally tries to see how long he can get away with watching his cartoon before he is threatened with disciplinary action.

I've tried many of the obedience methods out there. There's the 1...2...3 method; of course most kids wait until right before their parent says 3 before they start to respond. Or there's the promise of some sort of treat if they complete the specific task that is commanded of them; and my son ALWAYS remembers about the treat at the end...even if it's been several hours. Or some people even threaten to take away something dear to the child if they fail to obey. No matter which technique a parent decides to use; the goal is the same: to get your child to follow your instructions without questioning, whining or dragging their feet.

As I began this process with my son, a thought struck me. How can we expect our children to obey us in this manner if we blatantly disobey God's Word? I began to analyze my own life and the strongholds that had stunted me from being obedient myself. Tithing was a big issue that had held me back for years. Sure, I had heard numerous messages on how important it was, I clearly knew what God's Word said about it. But I just figured that I could somehow 'pick and choose' which commands of His I wanted to obey and which ones I could conveniently dismiss as mere suggestions.

As this revelation of my disregard for God's command tugged at my conscience, I looked for examples of obedience in the Bible. I had the perfect example right in front of me: a Son obeying His Father, even to the point of death. Philippians 2:8 "And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Jesus was exalted because He obeyed His Father's command.

With further research I found that we will also reap rewards if we obey. Job 36:11 states that "If they obey and serve Him, they shall spend their days in prosperity, and their years in pleasures."

I don't know about you, but I want prosperity and a long, fulfilling life for both me and my son. I began tithing regularly a few weeks ago and already I have seen financial increase and favor in my life. In addition, I've noticed a great improvement in my son's obedience toward me. I am learning to lead my son not only with my words but by example.

Aristotle and Benjamin Franklin both said in their own different versions: "He that cannot obey, cannot command."

All A Matter of The Tongue

The Tongue.
Such a small instrument with a huge responsibility.
What flows off of yours on a regular basis?
Words of encouragement to a friend?
A testimony of God's goodness, perhaps.
Do you vocalize your appreciation for His financial provision?
Or profess a declaration of health over your family?

Don't you know that death and life are in the power of the tongue?
Christ's death and resurrection bought back our dominion over the earth.
As believers, we've been given the authority to rebuke sickness, pain and death.
We now have the ability to 'speak to our mountain,' and tell it to be removed;
If only we believe.

Let's look at our problems or circumstances thru God's eyes;
Jesus ALREADY won the battle for us.
He took sickness, disease, poverty and oppression to the cross for us;
Why should we accept that which He's already taken care of?
To do so would be to trivialize His sacrifice for us.

Rather live an abundant life.
Thank the Lord for the health of your family.
Use faith, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
Praise Him for His provision.
Speak words of wisdom and knowledge over your children,
And declarations of unity and love over your marriage.

With the Truth on our lips and in our hearts,
Our lives will be a testament of God's goodness.
And the world will see a difference;
For we are called, 'the light of the world.'
Let your light so shine.

~'Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord...' Psalm 19:14

Prayer for my Son

Sometimes I wonder who you'll become.
An athlete? A musician?
A comedian or a soldier?
What should I be doing to prepare you for your future?
Should I toss you a ball?
Have you take swimming lessons?
Such pressure on a mother to detect talent at an early age.
Of course I want you to succeed; that's my mission.
But sometimes I feel that I fall short, as I am but one woman raising a boy.

Lord, show me the direction in which to lead my son.
Though he does not have an active father figure in his life,
Your Word says that You are a Father of the fatherless.
Fill that paternal void in his life.
Thank you for providing godly and moral male role models
For my son within my family and the church body who can mentor him
Until I find the man who is right to fill that fatherly role.

Before he was born, thru Your Word I spoke my boy's qualities into existence.
He is EXACTLY who I wanted him to be.
I give You praise for empowering me with your wisdom and love,
For your compassion and discernment.
And for providing us with a support system beyond our greatest expectations.
We are TRULY blessed.

As Hannah dedicated her son, Samuel to God;
So I give Reuel to You.
Help me to use Your Word as a manual in which to raise him by.
Build my patience level; give me peace.
NEVER let me forget the blessing that he has been in my life.

Lord, You know what Reuel was created for.
I pray that he'll be a malleable vessel for You to use.
Sensitive to Your Word, yet strong in his convictions.
May Truth and Life proceed from his mouth.
And healing in his touch.

I will NOT worry what my son will become.
He is already "a friend of God;" that is his namesake.
He has the effective prayers of his family,
But most of all...he has the Promises of his Father.
With this combination, there is NOTHING that can stand in his way.

Over a Belt?!

Giving. A staple in the Christian world. A concept that has been instilled within me for as long as I can remember. It's always been easy for me to 'give the shirt off my back' to those in need; even when it's something that I consider a prized possession. So, it was such a shock to me this morning when I lost my temper over the loss of a measly belt that could have been replaced for under $20.

Ironically, I am currently in the process of purging items in my household that I no longer need. Clothes that I haven't worn in the past year, articles of clothing that my son has so rapidly grown out of, even some items of furniture that I felt the need to give away. My dad has so graciously given up a few weeks of his time to come and help me thru this ordeal. While I'm at work, he's busy taking all of these goods to the thrift store, keeping the house clean and watching my son. He's also given me a chance to go out for some much needed free time where I can take a break from being 'momma' and just be Miss Jillian.

Taking full advantage of my free time, I recently went shopping and bought some new clothes. I was stoked! I had already mentally picked out the outfit I was going to wear to work today and when I went to look for it...the belt was missing. I quickly came to the conclusion that it must have accidentally been taken to the thrift store. At that moment, I allowed ALL of my frustrations to come out...sadly, my dad became the sounding board for my erratic rantings and ravings.

I began to complain that I wasn't able to have as nice of furniture as I would like because I had a 2 1/2 year old who would destroy it; I griped about lack of child support and I ranted that I was SICK of sacrificing so much in my life because I was a single mom. At that point in my outburt, I realized what I was saying.

Inwardly, I began to wonder, What if Jesus would have said that HE was sick of being the sacrifice for us right before he was placed on the cross? What happened to my faith in MY PROVIDER? And why was I being so materialistic?

I began to meditate on Jesus' words at that point, "Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.” Luke 12:15

I felt a bit better, I was replacing my resentment and anger with the Word. I mentally flipped over to another passage, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21

Humbled by the Truth, I apologized to my dad for directing my outburts at him and walked out the door with the final passage on my heart, “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." Matthew 6:31-33

A couple hours later my dad called me up and said, "You'll never guess what Roo came out of the room wearing around his waist..."

The Perfect Reunion

I admit...I was a bit nervous to attend my 10 year high school reunion. I had heard several people's accounts of their reunion experience and some of them weren't too positive. There was the girl who was promised by her best friend that she'd show up at the reunion and her friend failed to show. And there was the class who failed to let go of their high school cliche's even after 10 years. I didn't know what to expect.

I'm a single mom who didn't finish college; what could I brag about that I had accomplished in the past decade? What would I say when my former classmates asked me what I did for a living? Would I embellish my occupation? Would I make excuses why I hadn't accomplished more?

I realized that wasn't me. So I simply asked my best friend of about 15 years who went to high school with me to accompany me to the reunion. Being the great friend that she is, she agreed. A couple days before the reunion, I asked myself a question: "Are you happy with who you are today?" My answer was yes. This answer made me much more confident as the time of the reunion drew near.

The day of the reunion, I made a point to address all of my former classmates and tell them hi. Our small class embraced each other and it was as if time stood still except this time there was no drama or criticism. We talked, we laughed and we reminisced until late in the evening. We didn't want the night to end; we even said that we wanted to make this reunion every 5 years instead of an entire decade.

As I went home that night, I thanked God for who I had become. I may not have earned a BA or a Masters; and I'm not married, but I have a love for God, a love for my son and a wonderful job that allows me to provide for and spend time with my boy and for that I am eternally grateful.

Not only did this reunion help me gain an appreciation for myself and where I am at this point in my life, it also gave me an opportunity to build life long friendships; the kind that endures way past a decade. And may the next ten years bring each of us success, joy and most importantly...closer to God.

The Gift

I have been blessed.
How? You ask.
Let me explain.
When I was lost...when I was living for myself,
I was given a gift.
At the time, I didn't realize he was a gift.
My soul was tortured, my mind was controlled.
I would get rid of this gift, that was my choice.
But God, you are good. You are love.
You showed me the future of the course that I was on.
And you gave me the courage to walk away from that destructive path.
I repented and I accepted your love and the gift you'd given me.
Your peace enveloped me and in you my faith grew.
I dedicated my gift to you, because without you he would not exist.
To this day I am amazed at the gift you gave to me.
I did not deserve him.
I was not prepared for such an awesome gift.
But you looked at my heart.
You knew that I would love this gift.
That I would appreciate him EVERYDAY.
That I would do my best to mold this gift into someone extrodinary in your eyes.
So now I say thank you.
Thank you for this gift.
Though I don't feel worthy of him or of the challenge to raise him properly in your eyes, I ask for your strength, for your wisdom and for your discernment to be the best steward I can of the gift that you've blessed me with.
And may his legacy reveal a strong reflection of you and your unfailing love for all.

Long live...US ALL

Over the past couple weeks we've been bombarded by the tragic news of the death of several famous and iconic people. From Ed McMahon to Farrah Fawcett and from Michael Jackson to salesman, Billy Mays; the compounding news of each loss in such a short time span began to weigh heavily on my heart. We were being inundated with death and the realization that mortality does not discriminate based on social status or age hit me.

Upon hearing the various medical causes of death of these public figures including pneumonia, cancer, heart problems and even alleged drug overdose, I began to take an introspective analysis of my own life. And I found risky behavior, nutritional neglect, and unnecessary stressors that could all lead to my premature demise if I didn't address each one of them soon.

I realized that my first change needed to come from the heart. Proverbs 3:1-2 tells us, "Do not forget my(God's)law, but let your heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you." As I began to draw closer to God, many harmful habits in my life that needed to be dealt with were revealed to me.

Now that the spiritual issues were being addressed, it was time for me to reflect on the physical aspects of increasing my quality of life. I had become lackadaisical in my workouts; I had replaced most of my evening jogs with lying on the couch and watching the TV. Whatsmore, I had also traded in my healthy, home-cooked meals for fast food on a more regular basis. Consequently, the money being wasted on this unhealthy habit had highlighted my third problem area of mental stressors which manifest itself thru financial lack.

Poor money management and thoughtless spending sprees had caused unnecessary stress in my life. I had been blaming other people for my financial lack all along when I came to the awareness that my job provided me with enough income to live comfortably if I cut out all the superfluous shopping.

With little recent changes such as reviving my running routine, eating a more balanced diet, cutting down on trips to the store and living more within my means, I believe I have increased my quality level of life. Furthermore, allowing God to work on my heart has brought me peace, joy and confidence.

This healing process reminds me of part of a Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem in which he states, "Joy and Temperance and Repose slam the door on the doctor's nose."

So, I encourage you to do an honest evaluation of your own life and address the issues that may be stunting your longevity. Maybe you have a tendancy to speed in your car, or perhaps you don't wait long enough after your last drink before you drive. Have you been putting off that routine doctor's exam? Or maybe it's just as simple as adopting a more optimistic attitude in life and giving all of your worries to God. Whatever your personal analysis reveals, please take action immediately...don't wait. You have people in your life who care about you and people who rely on you to live a long, abundant life.

I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place
Take A Look At Yourself, And
Then Make A Change

~Man in the Mirror, Michael Jackson

Do What I Say AND What I Do.

"My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."

An interesting quote from American writer, Clarence Budington Kelland; however, it's ineffectiveness lies in the lack of instruction from a father to his son.

Today in our society, fatherhood has taken backseat to motherhood in the parental heirarchy. In many cases, a father's authority is undermined and even flat out ignored by their children. The mother is viewed as the nurturer, the educator and the disciplinarian while the father's sole task is to provide financially for his family. This change of parental duties over the past few decades has damaged the family unit and produced a generation of kids who have a disrespect for authority in general.

I know a true life story of a boy who was raised in a two parent home. The father was rarely there and his discipline was almost non-existent. When the boy was sent home from school for misbehaving, he would always call his father to come pick him up because he knew that he would not be punished by him. Due to his father's lack of involvement in his life, the mother had to step up and become the disciplinarian, the nurturer, the educator and often the financial provider. As a result, the boy failed to learn many important life lessons. Whatsmore, when the boy had a child of his own, he depended on his child's mother to take on all of those roles that his own mother had been given when raising him. The parental example he'd seen as a child was all he knew; a father's role was not necessary, thus the cycle of a somewhat uninvolved father would continue.

But fathers, your role is extremely important. You need to stand up and take back that leadership role in your family. Not by physical force or verbal threats, but earn their respect and teach your kids the true character of a man. Show respect for your children's mother and work together as her ally in your joint parental duties.

Ephesians 6:4 says, "And you, fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the training and admonition of the Lord." Fathers, one of your duties is to instill within your children the difference between right and wrong or good and evil. Consistently show them the rewards of good behavior and the consequences of their bad behavior.

Protect your children and keep them out of harmful situations. Sigmund Freud once said, "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." This goes for children of all ages...even teenagers. They may not seem like they care, but children want to feel that they have a dad who will stand up for them and be their defender.

But most of all, fathers need to be an example and live by the same moral, ethical, and spiritual guidelines that they have trained their children to follow. All the teaching, discipline and protection a father provides hinges on how he lives his own life. Children are both perceptive and impressionable and can spot hypocrisy quite easily. And hypocrisy can undo a lifetime worth of righteous admonition. Of course, no parent is perfect but as the old adage goes,

"A good example has twice the value of good advice."

Happy Father's Day!!