Expert Status - Gleaming Trophies Await my Stardom

Sean Mize is a friend among many. I've never met the man in person, but I admire him greatly. His climb to the top of the food chain implicates a strength I don't know that he has, and an expertise that I'm fully aware exists. When I asked him for assistance a few days back, on a whim, he responded with gentle reassurance. I know his knowledge is keen on target, and that he's accomplished something I dream one day of accomplishing as well.

Now, may not be that time.

Although I read his book and I'm applying the principles, I know there's a factor that isn't in my court. The desire to succeed is there, but for a reason I'm not certain the world understands. It's more than just success in the moment. For me, at this venture of my life, success that is sustainable and permanent is a requirement. It's a must have. I need the ability to survive no matter what the future holds, because my food chain is diminishing.

Early in life, I was taught the importance of family and friends. They've always been my stronghold, I knew they'd always be available to me, because I was a little squirt, cute as a button and everyone loved me. Then I began the process of growing up. There were relatives in my life who didn't give a horses petute about my life or what happened to me. They had their own worries to contend with, and theirs were always greater than mine. Friends slowly disappeared from view, as they grew older and left us alone without the needed hands to hold, hearts to cling to and shoulders to cry on.

Slowly, one by one the trophies of my life began to fade away. I wondered if I'd succeed at anything. Eventually, I realized that success didn't matter. I hadn't been born for success and stardom, at least not the kind that human minds conformed. I was destined to greater accommodations, my thrills would mold mountains, change worlds and calm seas. How did I know that the human bounds that surrounded my dreams as a child would not confine me as an adult?

the answer was easy...

I knew because I was a child of the King. He gave me greatness, bred it into every nodule of my DNA and carried it throughout his life to keep me safe and secure in the world where I was meant to grow, bear fruit and multiply as the Bible told me to do. I struggled, because I didn't know if I was doing the right thing or if I was going to be okay, through the struggles. But there on the cross, he hung for me, he got down off that tree and arose again, for me.

When I realized that my Savior had suffered the ultimate cost that I might have life everlasting and more abundant than any life I'd ever known, I knew. I knew that I was an expert, born to greatness. My life was a gleaming trophy of stardom awaiting the lights of recognition. In order to collect all that was mine, I merely needed to ask and the Lord would grant it unto me. I needed to seek that which I asked, expecting to find. And more than anything, once he provided for me, I needed to accept it with an open and grateful heart. My trophies are laid up...

Sean Mize is right, I am an expert. I've earned the trophies of greatness and my skills and talents are unnumbered. Thank you Sean, for pointing that out to me this week.

Charger Mom - Football Season

It's that time of year again and football season is in full on attack, one kid is fighting a cold, two more are fighting for the privilege of attending the game and another one just wants to be held. Great Gramma is begging for attention while my daughter and I chase around, wishing we had time to give attention to anything other than everyone else. Life at our house continues, rampant with dogged remarks, rushed moments and harried phrases that need finishing.

Did you ever feel like you were on a treadmill going just a half a mile faster than you could run?

When I realized a few weeks back that I'd be taking care of my mom for a while, I thought it might be nice to incorporate a few special "moments" in that care taking time. It may have been possible for the first few days, but shortly after, those moments became a random thought exclusive of ignorance. As we rushed from Doctor place to Doctor place, I realized the likeness of "special" was missing.

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So... lacking the ability to forget about my desire to make this time special, I stopped by my Dad's place and invited him and my nephew and his family to dinner. The world stopped turning for an hours worth of minutes as we attempted to eat at a family favorite diner. My mother's favorite place to go for food, costs an arm, two legs, a kidney and half a lung for a meal, when she eats less than two ounces and can't keep any of it down. But, paying it becomes a privilege, when I realize any monumental bite she takes may be her last.

A trivial moment in time for the average person, but this moment in time is precious, as my mother struggles to eat just one more bite of food. Then it occurred to me, during that meal. No matter how trivial, each moment we spend with mom... now, is special, because it may be the last one we have the privilege of spending with her.

Football season came in with such a rush of "to-dos" that I barely recognized the colors changing on the trees. The season was headlong into full force before I realized that if I leave the windows open, I can hear the boys practicing football on the field just south of the house. I've always loved listening to their "heave" and "lunges" as they cheer the boys of fall in their favorite sport. Football.

Am I a charger-mom? No, I'm not the mother of a prized football player, my boys chose not to play the autumn sport, but rather instead to run the courses in other sports. I am however a mom who charges in where angels fear to tread when the need arises, toting another barge, carrying my light high to light the world, and daring on the last moment to make a difference in the lives of teenagers, young adults and children everywhere. A life well lived is one that moves through each day, dedicated to the decision to live well, under any circumstances and find the happiness that comes with each moment, no matter how difficult the moment maybe.

I'm the mom in the checkout line spending my last dollar on toilet paper, smiling. Because I know that God is aware that's my last dollar, and he'll send me another when I need it. ;)