Just what the doctor ordered...

My Doctor told me to take it easy this week and avoid stress. I am back at work, so I am clearly not following Doctor's orders. Poor Chris was sweet and supportive during my out-of-nowhere break down last night, and then my parents "swooped in" and rescued us, as they always do in such a timely way.

Mom and Dad got tickets for tonight's RoughRiders game (our minor league baseball team) and invited me, ChellBell, Chris, and my nephew Nathaniel to be their guests for an all-fun, no-stress evening. The tickets were "Founders Club," so we had wrist bands that gave us all-you-can-eat-and-drink access to 3 different restaurants and great seats right behind home plate. Take a look:

Nathaniel and ChellBell

Sadly, someone in my family ate this as part of their dinner. (Not telling who, but it was definitely NOT one of the girls!) This was just the "first course" before we found the BBQ restaurant...

My sweet friend, my Mom (she just started a new blog, by the way -- you can find it in my sidebar under Lessons Learned in the Garden...)

The Cha-Cha-Slide

The guys, clearly NOT participating in the Cha-Cha-Slide

ChellBell and Daisy

Fun times, exactly what I needed. Thanks, Mom and Daddy, for always knowing how to make things better. You are unwavering sounding boards, genuine cheerleaders, my pier and beam. Thanks for walking hand and hand with me through life. One day, I promise, I'll "get it" and be able to respond to you the way you respond to me -- bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, enduring all things.

Love Letters

If you ever visit Pop Rocks on the 4th of the month, you'll find a special post written to my 7 year old daughter, ChellBell.  She was born on August 4th, and every month I like to remind her about things she's experienced and things we've done, but also let her in on how I feel about her. 

Monthly Notes to ChellBell are always pretty sappy, but it's honestly because I am crazy about her and never, ever want her to doubt that or forget that.

That kind of written expression comes naturally to me, because I grew up with it.  My parents are both gifted writers (my sister is as well), and though words of love were often spoken, they were just as often written.  Written on notes, written on napkins in a lunchbox, written in letters. I am crazy about the written word.  Especially when it's a love letter.  Because love letters are tangible.  And they are forever.  Sometimes they last longer than the author, and sometimes they last longer than the love itself.  The written word lasts, and it is there to be experienced over and over again.

My Mom lurks on my blog (I just found out), and posted a comment on the Mom's Day post.  It was very moving and emotional for me, and I wanted to share it.  I wanted to just share the honesty and love that comes from her.  You'll see that it has flowed down through the generations.  I was loved by my Mom, which taught me how to love as a Mom.  

After leaving the comment, Mom apologized for it being so long (she's new to blogging protocol), but I say she's allowed to leave comments as long and as often as she wants!

Christie, I always cry through your blog.

Your Dad asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. I told him I didn't need anything. He asked what I wanted. I couldn't even think of anything I wanted, yet I got it...to spend fun time with my family. Everyday life is a gift, especially when there is relationship in the family. 

You know I have always hated those cards that say, "Although I never say it...!" And I want to yell, "Go ahead and say it, say it, say it...every day, say it!" And you do say it...to your child, your husband, your parents. Thank you for demonstrating love in ways far greater than words can express.

I have seen how you and your sister have grown into beautiful ladies, and I don't know how that happened with me as a mother. Then I realize I had little to do with it, other than spending much time on my knees talking to your Father, and with the guidance of your earthly father...plus asking for forgiveness often. I made all the mistakes a parent can make... and not just once. I still question God, asking why YOU were not the mother and me, the child. I learn so much about Godly mothering from you. And actually as I see you and Cella together, I think I would like to start over again and have another chance. (Easier to say at my age than to do!) You are a wonderful Mom.

I remember the day you were a little older than Cella, and you wanted to know if you could ask me a question without hurting my feelings. I began to cry out to God for wisdom even before I heard the question. You asked, "Mom, when I grow up, do I have to be like you?" I knew it was "one of those impact moments," and God did give me wisdom. I remember saying, "Yes, honey, you have to be like me. You have to love the Lord with all your heart. Other than that, you don't have to be like me at all." You smiled and said, 
"Wow. Thanks Mom." I didn't know if I had won or lost...but I knew that was the right answer. 

You are so unlike me in so many ways...And that is a complement, filled with much joy and gratitude. You have "improved" life and broken the generational "stuff." You have taken some of the good things of your Dad's and my life and have improved them and added to them. That is exciting to watch. 

When I was growing up, I didn't know you could love your children, much less LIKE them. Heck, I didn't even know you could like yourself. And when you and your sister showed me love, it overwhelmed me and taught me about God Himself. You still do. And I doubt that Cella will ever question the love of God because she sees it daily in you and Chris. I love that.

You truly are a delight. I need nothing else. I actually don't even want anything...my life is so blessed. I understand grace! And I love calling you my friend!
Mom

Mom's Day

This morning at church I was talking to one of the 6^th grade girls who helps teach Sunday School.  She was kind of bummed that it was Mother’s Day.  I’ve never known a child to actually voice the fact that they don’t really care for Mother’s Day, so I asked her why it was such an extraordinarily miserable day.  She started running through the list of all the things her Mother wanted for Mother’s Day.  It started with her and her sister cleaning the house yesterday.  Then they made breakfast this morning.  And they were scheduled for yard work this afternoon along with laundry.

Bummer.  I think I’d hate Mother’s Day too.

Realizing that some Moms use this special day as a teachable, ah-ha kind of moment to gain some appreciation from their kids for the physical labor that comes with the job description, I did some super-fast soul-searching to figure out what I want this day to mean both to me and ChellBell.

Mother’s Day for me is a normal day.  Dishes are cleared from the dishwasher, a lunch will still need to be packed for school tomorrow, hair will be inspected to ensure that it is shampoo-free, and bedtime stories will still need to be read.  All of those things are things I signed up for as a Mom.  I don’t get a kitchen pass from being a Mom on Mother’s Day.  Honestly, I wouldn’t want one. 

Being a work-outside-the-home Mom, I don’t get enough time with Chell, so Mother’s Day is all about hanging out with her.  Chris kind of feels like it’s Father’s Day because he gets “alone” time!  It’s a day where I can tell ChellBell a million times or more why I love being her Mom.  I can show her that she is my best little friend and that I love spending time with her.  It’s a day for me to remember how blessed I am to be a Mom, even though my hips are wider, my patience is smaller, and our bank balance lower.

It’s a day to think about the unrequited love that I have for my daughter.  A love she will never understand or have the privilege of feeling until she too is a Mom.

It’s a day to return as much love to my Mom as I can, now that I finally understand the love she has for me, a love strong enough to trump the frustration I undoubtedly brought her over the years.

It’s a day to soak in the absolute gift of loving so much, knowing that it will never be returned in full.

And knowing that given the chance, I wouldn’t have it any differently.

Set Another Place

I'm a little sentimental with Mother's Day coming up, but I just want to say that I'm crazy about my Mom.  We're dramatically different from each other and yet so many of the things that I like about myself are directly from her influence.  My Mom entertained a lot when I was growing up, and most of my favorite memories are from both formal and informal gatherings that she planned.  

Mom was the queen of "setting another place."  Because even back then, people were not aware of the need to RSVP.  Or they would RSVP for 1 and end up bringing a friend.  But Mom would just say, "We'll just set another place."  Some people would scoot to the left, and some people would scoot to the right, so that everyone had a place.  And everyone was welcomed.

Last Friday night, I had a great experience -- actually a bunch of great experiences all rolled into one evening.  I was invited to come hang out with a friend from high school, Nancy, whom I had not seen in -- yikes -- 21 years.  And to add even more excitement to the evening, Nancy's friends from Virginia were all going to be in town for a Girls' Weekend, so I got to hang out with them too, including Renee and Michele, whom I had gotten to know through their blogs.

Let me tell you about these girls.  They have been through the thickest and thinnest of times with each other.  They have seen life, they have seen death, they have seen good, and they have seen bad.  Together.  They have seen each other through the moments life has handed them. Together.  What an amazing group of friends.

But you know what they did?  They set another place.  For me.  Some scooted left, and some scooted right.  And there was a spot for me.  They welcomed me in, and I had a blast.

To the TNBS girls -- you all are amazing, and it was both a pleasure and a privilege to be a part of your group for the evening!

Sandwiched

ChellBell came up with this great saying that has become a staple in our vocabulary.  "Sandwiched".  When she curls up in bed with us, she is "Parent-Sandwiched".  When she sits between Morganne and Sarah, she is "Best-Friend-Sandwiched."  When she gets in between the dogs, she is "Puppy-Sandwiched"

Today I was Sandwiched.

Girl-Sandwiched.

Family-Sandwiched.

Loved-from-every-ounce-of-my-being-Sandwiched.

I was with my Mom and my Daughter.

With Mom on one side.  The woman to whom I owe life, but also to whom I owe Life.  She taught me about Faith, and she has shown me what it looks like time and time again.  She loves me unconditionally, but even more than that, she has always let me figure out who I am and who I am not, and she loves the Me that I find at the end of the questioning.  Not because she has to, but because she wants to.

Sandwiched with my Daughter on the other side.  Ah, ChellBell.  My heart aches from loving her so much.  For wanting her to dream big dreams and live every moment that comes her way.  To choose to be happy in every season of life.   To keep her innocence and her quirky sense of humor.  To jump in rain puddles barefoot and to lick the batter bowl.  

Two people I am truly, honestly privileged to have in my life.  Three generations just spending the morning taking pictures, catching up, sharing news, laughing...  It was a wonderful morning of being Sandwiched.

(Mom's hair is growing out!  Doesn't it look cute? Click here to read about my Mom's recent journey)

Friend Makin' Monday -- Good Advice

My friend Kasey at All That is Good gets us all looking forward to Mondays with Friend Makin' Mondays, a super-fun way to make good Bloggy friends. 

Today is one of my favorite FMM topics: What is the best advice someone has ever given you?

For me, the answer is easy.

I have to preface this by saying that --and I'm sure many of you can relate -- my Mother is full of all kinds of Mom-isms.  Pieces of advice that she, as a Mom, feels obligated to give.  Like her advice when I went to college.  As she was moving me into my dorm, she told me the 2 things I should never do:

1. Never play with a Ouija Board and 

2. Never (ahem) with a boy before getting married.  

(Don't most parents just tell their kids to study hard when they're heading off to college???)  

Anyway, one of her Mom-isms has turned out to be the simplest and most profound bit of advice that I have lived by:

"Don't marry someone you can live with; Marry someone you can't live without."

Essentially, Don't Settle.  And with every boy I've dated, I've always asked myself, "Can I live without him?"  And when Chris came along, and the answer was "NO," I knew that he was the one I would marry.  That whole "don't settle" advice has helped me with so many other things -- like to accept or decline a job offer, or whether or not I should make a large purchase...  If I find myself thinking, "I could MAKE this work" OR "I could LEARN to live with it" instead of "I can't live without it!", then I know I'm settling, and it's not best for me.

Leave it to Mom.  She always knows best.

And I'm so glad!

What's the best advice you've gotten?  Go here and join in the fun!

The Long and Winding Road

I reached the point in my life a few years ago where I had to lose weight. Just had to. I was ready to. Those are actually two totally different things. I was ready. So based on a glowing recommendation, I hired Tina as my personal trainer. She showed up at my house twice, sometimes three times a week, ready to work out. I dreaded it and loved it at the same time. And I lost weight. But something else happened. I found this give-it-all-you-got determination inside of me that transcended workouts and became a part of life.

One thing that "Mean-a Tina" did for me was decide that I was born to run. The first time she told me that, I laughed harder than I had ever laughed before. But she didn't laugh. So we ran. We started off running from my door to the end of the block. And then we'd walk. Then we got a little bit farther. And before I knew it, I was running a half-mile. And then a mile. And then two.

That fall, I felt very brave and signed up for the Dallas Turkey Trot. A 5k -- 3.125 miles -- farther than I had ever run. And with 30,000 other people I ran my first race on that Thanksgiving Day.

I don't remember much about the race except that there were a lot of people, and they were all faster than me. It's humbling when a Mom with a stroller passes you by.

But I remember the Finish Line. The sweet victory of the Finish Line. The accomplishment of knowing that you are finished. That you made it. And you can stop and rest. And that you survived. And that you are proud of what you've done and how you've endured.


My Mom had her sixth and final chemo treatment today. Wow, if I thought a 5k was hard to endure... What a journey. What a race. What a test of endurance. What a test of faith.

Mom has lost a lot along the way, as many Cancer victims and survivors do. But she hasn't lost her determination or her spirit or her sanity or her complete devotion to God. In fact, I think she's gained. She gained clarity and an extra dose of faith and a glimpse of God from a new angle.

And now she can see the Finish Line.

Her race isn't over yet. She still has several hard weeks ahead. The treatment has been more and more difficult to pull through with every round. And now at Round 6, her legs are heavy and not moving as swiftly as they did at the beginning of this race. But she continues to run. Eyes fixed on the Finish Line ahead of her.

Her goal wasn't to win. Her goal was to finish. And she will accomplish that with her head held high, knowing that she is, in fact, finished. She made it. Knowing that she can stop and rest. And that she survived. And that she is proud of what she's done and how she's endured.

And we, her fans, will keep cheering her on as she nears the end, holds her arms and head high and yells, "I made it!"

I've got a Plan

I started out inquisitive, and it never went away. I was that annoying child always asking, "why?" And when everyone got tired of making up answers for me (because, really, when do kids ask the "why" question of things that parents actually know the answer to???), I would start making up my own answers to things. Which is why, seriously, until I went to college, I thought Lions were boys and Tigers were girls. Blame it on the ones (and I'm not naming names, Mom and Dad) who stopped answering my annoying questions and never told me the difference.

So I grew up to be a Recruiter. I call people and talk to them and ask a lot of questions. And they always have an answer. My questions don't get ignored. And I get to ask everyone what they want to be when they grow up and why they chose this line of work and how much money they want to make. It's amazing. And then I get to find them a new job, which is even more amazing. I love this profession!

Question-asking has actually become quite scientific over the years. As you know, there are lots of things we are no longer allowed to ask, for fear of lawsuits. And there are new-and-improved-ways to ask questions to elicit less hypothetical answers. This is called the "behavioral interviewing" technique, based on the premise that past actions predict future actions. In other words, what you've done in the past is, essentially, what you'll do in the future if put into the same circumstance. I was first exposed to this type of interviewing as a Technical Recruiter at Southwest Airlines and have since incorporated it into my personal recruiting style at other companies.

One of my favorite behavioral questions is, "Tell me about a time when you were going along with Plan A, and something happened that derailed you." This is particularly relevant to the developers and Project Managers I hire, because technical initiatives never stay on Plan A.

The right answer would include a brief pause to assess the situation, and it would also include a Plan B. It would not include stressing out or cursing or panic. It would look like a smooth transition, because you had thought ahead.

Over the holiday weekend, we went to Austin to see our dear friends who have deserted us moved due to a promotion. It was fantastic to hang out with them and see the new house and soak up the visual of their new surroundings. On Saturday we took the girls to see the new American Girl movie, Kit Kittredge. You know that I love the American Girl dolls just slightly less than ChellBell, but I have to be honest that I wasn't expecting much from the movie. But, truth be told, it was cute. Actually good. And it had good lessons for girls (both big and small) to learn about life.

We've already adopted one of the phrases from the movie and used it several times in our house. "Don't let it beat you." Don't let things frustrate you, get the best of you, get your goat, get your panties in a wad. However you want to phrase it. Don't let it beat you.

Life is never a happy Plan A. Seriously, there is always derailment. Sometimes the derailment is a mere hiccup in the grand scheme of things, and sometimes it comes with a huge crash, collisions, and fatalities. And it can take our breath away. And our motivation. Our passion. Our confidence. And we let the circumstances beat us.

I spoke to my Mom tonight, and she is one week out of her 5th chemotherapy treatment. The treatments continue to get more and more difficult and take more of a toll on her body. It's the sign that chemo is doing everything it should, but considering the pain and nausea, that's not always comforting. Mom's biggest struggle has been with her white blood cell counts continuing to be next to nothing. This time around, the counts were so low that the doctor required Mom to come in several days in a row to test her levels. Her progress report tonight was that her counts are up from .6 to 3 (out of a recommended 10 - 13). Mom could tell from my silent response that I was not comforted by that so-called "progress." And then she told me that the doctor doesn't really care about the numbers, as long as they are heading in the right direction.

As long as they're heading in the right direction.

As long as we're heading in the right direction.

If life has thrown you a curve ball or handed you lemons or derailed your Plan A, don't let it beat you. This is life. And we didn't write this story, so in many cases, it's out of our control. But what IS in our control is to point ourselves in the right direction and start heading there. That's what counts.

And we'll eventually find Plan B.

(And maybe some Recruiter will ask you about it one day, and you'll have a good story to tell.)

Label Maker

Anyone who knows me knows that organization is not my strong suit. Thank goodness for my sweet friend Norma who shows up every Friday to make sure that my house is more than presentable and that things are in place.

The odd, ironic, totally-doesn't-make-sense thing, though, is that I label. I love to label. My spice cabinets are labeled to keep the spices in order alphabetically. Toy bins are labeled. Canisters have labels on them. Drawers, cabinets... Labeled, labeled, labeled.

Go figure.

Unfortunately, my love of labeling has spilled over from my house to life in general. I think as human beings our tendency is to label, to classify everything around us. It helps us process, it helps us identify, it helps us relate. We label circumstances, motives, and people.

Our "labels" for people: Nice, Successful, Smart, Attractive, Wealthy (or perhaps the opposite of those). Worth my time, Someone I want to be seen with, Secure. Whether we know people or not, we label them by what they do, how they dress, how they carry themselves, our first impressions.

I have had another label in my collection: Issue-People.

Issue-People are the people who always have something going on, bringing them down. Never a bright spot in life. Always concerned with something -- sometimes actual, sometimes not. I've wondered how it was that some people are Issue-People with all the "bad luck" so to speak, while others are relatively issue-free.

But after thinking about this label, I have re-considered and re-classified.

Here's the truth: We all have issues. No one gets through life without them. Even "issue-free" people have issues. And circumstances. And "bad luck". So the difference is not that there are Issue-People and Non-Issue-People.

The difference is how we handle those issues and circumstances.

There are Those who rise above and Those who succumb. Those who become stronger and more determined because of the pain or Those who stay comfortably victimized to their circumstances. There are Those who will buckle under what life has handed them and Those who plant their feet firmly and are not moved.

I keep up with two women who are amazing examples of Those who rise above. One I've known my whole life, my Mother, who has been labeled "Cancer Survivor". Still going through chemotherapy, she has become stronger because of this chapter of her life. You can follow her journey here.

Another woman I have come to love, though I have never met her, is a lady named Angie. Angie and her husband, Todd, had a little girl, Audrey, who died just hours after she was brought into the world. Maybe you can fathom that kind of loss. I can't. Even harder to fathom is how this Mother is able to rejoice and grieve at the same time. Here is her amazing, encouraging story.

Considering what these two women have faced, they would be completely justified in being Issue-People. Letting the hard events of life become their label and their identity. Pulling the covers over their head in the morning and refusing to face the world. But these two women will not succumb.

Why?

One thing. One thing they have in common.

Faith.

Read these women's stories. You'll find that they are not their stories at all. They are stories of God's faithfulness. They are stories of commitment. They are stories of using circumstances to tell people that God is good all the time. Even in our issues. They know that worrying means telling God that we don't think He's big enough to do His job. They know that fear means we take back control over our lives, which we never controlled in the beginning and never really will ever control. They know that hard days and grieving and loss do not change who God is or what He can do. And they know that valleys are where, if we let Him, God will be more visible than ever before.

They know their label: Child of God. Cared for by God. Loved.

A label that fits all of us, actually.

And they lived happily ever after

Today is the 28th of May, which is a big day. My parents are celebrating their 41st wedding anniversary.

My Mom and Dad have been together twice as long as the time they lived life without each other.

Their marriage hasn't always been perfect. But it's always been committed. And it is a true testament to the fact that relationships don't have to be perfect to last. And to be "The One".

People aren't perfect, so marriages won't be either. But when you decide that that wonderfully un-perfect person is the one you want to be with, you commit and plow into life, well... that's a good start on marriage.

One of Mom's famous Mom-isms to me and my sister has stuck with me and will, no doubt, become one of my Mom-isms to ChellBell:

"Don't marry someone you can live with. Marry someone you can't live without."

Good, huh?!

I know some marriages end. And for good reasons. But I also believe that a lot of marriages end for not-so-good reasons. Because people get bored. Or see greener grass. Or they "change".

In every marriage there is a season of boredom. And there's always grass that looks greener if your eyes are looking for it. And everyone changes. But I'm really glad that my parents stuck with it. And learned to love each other better with each step. And learned to trust a Holy God who, at times, was the only thread that held them together. He was faithful to do that.

A heart full of huge thanks to you, Mom and Dad. For loving and forgiving and sticking with each other so well. And for teaching me to do the same with Chris. Your marriage impacts the generations that come after you.

It's your legacy.

8 Days of Definitions

Overwhelmed: (ō'vər-hwělm', -wělmd') adj.
1. To overflow and bury beneath; to engulf; hence, figuratively, to immerse and bear down; to overpower.

2. Starting a new job and learning new systems, managing a new team, and feeling a slight bit of pressure to hit the ground running and be wildly successful by the end of Week Two.

Grateful: (grāt'fəl) adj.

1. Appreciative of benefits received; thankful.
2. Having Mom complete her first administration of chemotherapy with few side effects [also see Answered Prayers]
3. Suffering only a short power outage during a damaging tornado on Thursday, though the neighborhoods surrounding us went without power for two days (oh, and the school, too).
4. ChellBell's feeling about there being no school for two days in a row because there was no power. [also see Kids Dream Comes True]

Squeal: (skwēl) v.

1. To give forth a loud shrill cry or sound.

2. The sound heard continually at Anne's amazing American Girl birthday party, Limo Ride and all!

Determined: (dĭ-tûr'mĭn) adj.

1. Resolute; decided; settled; resolved.

2. ChellBell discovering her first wiggly tooth and eating 3 apples a day to try to get it out, just so she can see if there really is a tooth fairy or if it is her parents like Bailey told her at school last week. [also see curious and growing up]

Withdrawals: (wĭth-drô'əlz) n.

1. The physiological and mental readjustment that accompanies discontinuation of an addictive substance.

2. Not getting to blog for 8 days because there is simply no time. [refer back to Overwhelmed]

Breathe: (brēth) v.

1. To pause to rest or regain breath.

2. Having the perfect weather on a Saturday and getting to spend it with family, flying kites, playing with the dog, and eating a picnic lunch.

Total Eclipse of the Heart (please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers that song?)

A little late-night family bonding time tonight. Yes, we are the goofy family who put on pajamas, climbed into the car, and went in search of a viewing spot for the lunar eclipse at 9 PM. ChellBell was completely amused by sticking her head out of the sunroof and informed us that she would like to be a Meteorologist when she grows up so she can work at a planetarium. (Really big words for a six year old, too bad it makes no sense). The clouds were heavy with only a few breaks, so we ended up back at home, watching the moon from our front yard. And rest well, because on the way home, ChellBell realized that the Meteorologist is not the one who watches the stars. She is now going to be an Astrologer when she grows up.

I personally am fascinated by planetal movement (ah, see where she gets the big words...). The thought of the earth blocking the sun from shining on the moon -- something it does night after night after night -- is riveting. Kind of creepy. Kind of cool. Kind of captivating.

Hitting a little closer to home, we got some difficult news yesterday. Though my Mom's surgery went well, the pathology report showed cancer cells in her lymph nodes, which means that she will undergo another surgery and then begin chemotherapy. Not news we wanted or expected. It was, for a few hours yesterday, like the sun had stopped shining on the moon, like a dark shadow had come over us.

A Total Eclipse.

The reality of being human is that there are moments when we lose hope. We lose our strength. And there are times when we are not the brave, valiant hero. Sometimes the darkness is overwhelming. Completely overwhelming.

Like tonight's moon.

But another reality is that tonight's moon didn't stay dark for very long. The light returned, gradually revealing that familiar shape, first as a little sliver, then inch by inch becoming the big, bright, full moon the evening had given us to begin with. I had seen it wane, and then I saw it wax (obviously I have been on wikipedia tonight...). And in my metaphorically-compulsive brain, and in my heart and in my gut, it was like the Maker of the moon and stars was showing me that darkness lasts only for a moment. And I felt His promise that light, hope, and wholeness would be restored.

All of that, sitting in my pink pajama pants on a chilly concrete step outside my house with the big dog curled up next to me.

I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me.

WOW is MOM upside down

My Mom has been cancer-free for two days now. They took out her "sick", as ChellBell calls it, on Friday, leaving her with scars and a new badge of Cancer Survivor.

Watching the process of my Mother being diagnosed with Breast Cancer, grapple with the reality of her new "state", and rise against being defined by her sickness has been an education for our whole family. By quietly watching, I have learned a lot about my Mom, as my perspective has seen beyond her maternal role, to the role of a female struggling with a condition that has threatened to take a part of her femininity. I've also seen a sincerity in her Faith that could only be proven by a "test" of this magnitude.

Mom would blush at the idea of being compared to Job (remember that guy from the Bible who had everything taken from him?), but when it is pronounced that you have Cancer, you do feel like the world -- as you know it -- is being stripped away. Some are mad at God. And they have the right to be, and God is ready for that. Others deny, which is normal. Some turn into a heap of fear, with the sheer terror of what might be outweighing hope and optimism.

Not to say that Mom didn't have all of these moments, but they were all curtailed by her unwavering belief that Cancer is a speck of dust in the hands of her God. She would not let the "sick" inside of her rule her, when she has a God inside of her that is bigger than anything a doctor can diagnose.

I think everyone who has witnessed my Mom has matured a bit and been inspired by the way she has handled this season of her life. I would venture to say that we will all live life differently after seeing Mom trust wholeheartedly during this unnerving time.

I hope you have a Mom that you think the world of, like I do. I thank God for the strong, unwavering example that I have in her. From now on, I think every day will be Mother's Day. Kind of makes you want to at least pick up the phone and call your Mom, doesn't it? Yeah, me too.