I just want to say, first of all, that I've been so blessed by you, lately. For the last two or three weeks, I've been especially touched by more than a usual number of notes, kind words, and emails from you. You've been so uplifting and encouraging to me. And I love that I've even gotten to meet some of you recently, too. There's not much that makes me more excited than having someone approach me with an apprehensive look and ask, "Are you the Muffintop lady?" I can't tell you what hearing from you means to me. It's like a shot in the arm. And for those who've left comments, lately, I'm getting a message that you're not being notified by email when I respond to you, so please go back and look at your comment so you can find my response. I need to check into that issue.

No matter what it is, if we do something routinely, we will, invariably, have times when we ask ourselves if it really matters. I think, in those times, God uses us to fill each other's tanks.....keeping us all fueled to carry on with whatever our thing is. And you have certainly done that for me. Each of your words and encouragements have gone straight to my heart and I just wanted to tell you so. I'd be lying if I said I don't ever struggle with words or finding blocks of time, attention, and energy to invest in blogging, but it never fails that, in those precise moments, I'm always, without fail, rejuvenated by your timely words to me. Thank you for that. From the bottom of my heart.

So, I went with Carson to an academic insight day for prospective business students at Mississippi State, this week. I can't believe that, in 5 months, Davis and I will be official, card-carrying empty nesters. Sniff. Anyway, we set out for Starkville to attend the various meetings that were planned to introduce the soon-to-be students to the business school. I was excited to be going in McCool Hall, where I'd taken several classes back in my day. Of course, I found it to be, like many things there, mostly unrecognizable from all of its renovations. Near the end of the day of activities, they separated the parents from the students. The students went to one auditorium to get the feel of a university classroom setting and the parents went into another for a Q&A with the dean and advisers.

Well, the first time parents were raising their hands right out of the gate. They had questions about accessing their children's grades and staying informed of their attendance and all sorts of other nervous inquisitions. You could hear their trepidation in their voices. Finally, the dean, who'd likely dealt with many of this type of parental unit in her day, asked for a show of hands of the parents, who were there with their first child. A large number of hands went up and most of them belonged to the most frequent questioners of the afternoon. Then, she asked for a show of hands from the parents, who were there with their last child. A lot of hands, including mine, shot up with a kind of whoop whoop sort of sound effect to go along with it. I dare say there may have even been a hint of a hoot and a holler. The staff commented that they always get those same differing responses. Clearly, the latter group was the more relaxed and unconcerned group of parents as they'd already experienced the growing pains of letting go of the firstborn and saw this as the first step toward getting their last dependent off of the payroll. They were a little older than the first set and hid their weariness less effectively. These parents were hungry for some relaxation. They had travel brochures, vacation home floor plans, and fishing boat catalogs that they'd been saving for this very moment, which was finally in their sites....thus causing the more audible hand raising.  

I can't say that I'm going to hoot or holler when Carson leaves. Probably more like sniff and snot. But, I'm certainly not as apprehensive as I was when Blair was at this point. There's just sort of a relaxation process that takes place between the first and last child. Maybe after seeing that you didn't kill, maim, scar, or irreversibly alter the first kid, you gain some confidence in your parenting skills and give yourself a little breathing room. Or, perhaps, you're just better poised to see that, even though you didn't exactly follow all the books with the first one, well, they didn't become a carny or get an animal bone piercing in their chin or join the Moonies or anything, so what's the worst that could happen the second time around?  But, really, I just think that it's more of a fatigue issue. You're older and just too tired to worry yourself over the little things. Blair has noted, on several occasions, that things are a lot different for Carson than they were for her when she came up through the system. The way she talks, it's not near the maximum security prison around here that it was in her day. I guess it's more of a white collar kind of lock up now, so it's probably a good thing that we're almost done with Carson's up bringin'. We likely couldn't hold out to monitor him for much longer.

Davis and I will be married 27 years on Friday and we've been in the child rearing business for almost 25 of those. I suppose it's good that, after Carson, we're only left with an animal to guide and nurture and, even with that, we're not doing very well. Davis installed an underground fence, about three weeks ago, to keep young Ruby confined to our yard. We live outside the city limits, where dogs are free to roam, but we weren't sure about Ruby and her vagrant background. We didn't know if she'd see us as just another stop along the way. We didn't have any kind of barrier for Sugar because, well, we've talked about her rule following nature before. Ruby, well, she's another story. We didn't want her stubborn, undaunted, mischievous self wandering off or being a nuisance to the neighbors. Our collection of shoes of unknown origin was starting to grow. So, Davis ordered the fence and got it buried and hooked up to the power source. He placed the little white flags all over the perimeter of the yard where the fence ran.

There was only one last step left. One small step. To train Ruby. To put the collar on her and lead her around the yard and show her the boundaries. To let her hear the beeping warning that would go off when she approached the flags and pull her back, so she'd associate the beeping with stopping and retreating. Eventually, she'd have to feel the shock to put it all together that the flags marked her limits. That was supposed to be the next and final step. Then, the rain came and the flu came and the pretty white flags became just something for Ruby to walk around on her way to the neighbors' yards to get their shoes.

Davis and I stood in the kitchen, this week, watching Ruby frolicking freely through the window. I said, "Are we ever going to train her on that fence thing?" "Doesn't look like it," Davis said as we watched our pound dog of unknown descent with her well bred friends, Izzy, the boxer, and Olive, the Corgi, having the best time. She was running back and forth from our yard to theirs....trampling the little white flags as she ran to and fro. I know I've smooshed a couple with the car and I saw Ruby with one in her mouth, the other day. Basically, we have all those little white flags tracing our property lines to give the impression that our dog is in the throes of some sort of intense training, when, actually, Davis and I are the ones in training. We are being conditioned that if we find an unfamiliar object inside the white flag area, we should busy ourselves finding its rightful owner and anything that happens outside the flagged perimeter is really none of our business.

She's almost got us trained.

Blair and John Samuel came home, this past weekend, and it was such a beautiful day, Saturday, that we decided to take the dogs for a walk at the lake. In our city, we're fortunate to have a couple of lakes with a paved walking path winding around one and hiking trails and bike trails in the woods surrounding the second lake. The weather beckoned us to come and enjoy our local treasure and Blair, John Samuel, and I loaded up the two dogs to head there. Carson had homework he needed to get done and Davis had a stop he needed to make first, so he was going to meet up with us when he was done.

Well, right off the bat, we disobeyed the rules and took the dogs on the paved walking path, because (1) there were only a couple of other people on the entire track and they were on the opposite side of the lake. There was no one that the dogs could possibly bother and (2) Davis, the rule follower, wasn't there to stop us. We walked about 1/2 mile when we saw the gravel path that led back to the wooded trails. I guess my conscience got the best of me and we decided to get on one of those trails and enjoy the woods for a while. There's a main path with several different trails shooting off of that. Basically, there's a trail suitable for any activity or fitness level. That's why when we passed the trailhead marked "The Family Loop" I thought that was where we belonged. The name indicated a leisurely stroll through the woods, which could be done even with several small children in tow. Davis and I had been through there and that was exactly how I remembered it.....just a sweet, little walk through the woods with a couple of streams running under cute bridges along the way.

So, we hopped on the trail and let the dogs be our guide. I'd woken up that morning not feeling the best. I couldn't put my finger on anything specific. I just wasn't 100%, but, surely, I could do something as non-strenuous as a family nature walk. Well, as I mentioned earlier, there are many trails winding through the woods back there and they intersect at many points. We were unfamiliar with that particular area as we usually walk another section of the park. So, after my Fitbit said we'd walked 2 miles already and there was no sight of the trail's end, we determined that surely we'd veered off of the Family Loop and, somehow, gotten ourselves onto, possibly, Satan's Trail or Death Angel's Pass. I mean, unless the name, Family Loop, was referencing families, who just happened to bring along a survival kit or perhaps families who wished to die together alone in the wilderness.

Anyway, it was no wonder we got off of the loop with the heavy blanket of winter leaves covering everything and the signage being a little spotty. We'd crossed over onto the bike trails, obviously. We'd top a steep hill and walk a few level steps, only to be met by another incline steeper than the one before. Of course, Blair and John Samuel and even the dogs were just scurrying on up the hills, but I was lagging behind and I'll just attribute it to not feeling up to par and leave it at that.

 
                                My view for most of the walk.

Well, we'd grilled burgers for lunch, right before we left for our walk, and I'd had a LOT of tea to drink, so this extended hiking session was getting me into sort of a 50 year old woman kind of bind. Finally, we turned another corner to see yet another mountain ahead of us, and that's when it happened. Our situation had gotten me tickled. Now, a tickled 50 year old woman out in the middle of the woods with a full bladder is not a situation that's going to end well. Ever. These are favorable conditions for a monsoon. So, in my laughter, I instructed Blair and John Samuel to stop. Holding my arms up into the air for emphasis, they turned around to hear me say with my legs crossed, "Ok, everybody stop! Nobody laugh or move or say a word!" I needed total silence to concentrate on the problem at hand. I could hear Blair filling John Samuel in on the situation, "Mom's trying not to wet her pants." I attempted to regain my composure and tried walking a few more steps, but it wasn't happening. It was now or never. I had to go. The humorous situation was more than the ol' bladder could take, so I yelled ahead, "Ok, I need both of you to walk way ahead where you can't see me. And I mean waaay ahead." It was a really kind of a big moment. For the first time in my life, all of my 50 years, I was about to relieve myself outdoors. And, while my brothers are probably beaming, while reading this, my mother has likely fallen backwards out of her chair. Someone should check on her.

Anyway, I got off the trail and found a suitable spot to relieve myself. I wasn't sure what a suitable spot looked like for a girl's first time at outdoor urination, but I thought it looked nice enough. Small trees around for me to catch myself should the need arise. The entire time, I was praying, "Oh, Lord....please, please, don't let some unsuspecting soul become subjected to this freak show by walking up through here ." My prayer was answered and I pulled up the remainder of my dignity and went to catch up with my family on the Family Loop gone bad.

Meanwhile, Davis texted me that he'd made it to the lake and wanted to know where we were, so he could join us. "We are lost. That is where we are. Gather a search party." As I'm communicating with him, John Samuel turned around and said that he certainly hoped no one had a game camera mounted close to my "bathroom". Oh, that was a good thought with which to keep my mind occupied. Maybe even a grainy video of me squatting near a tree would end up on our Community Watch page with the caption, "Does anyone know this woman?" I could imagine someone responding, "Yeah, I know her. Indecent exposure woman is married to trespassing man with the camera and clipboard from last week."

I looked at my Fitbit again and we were at 3.5 miles. I yelled ahead...…"Y'all go on and save yourselves. I've had a good life." But, being the compassionate people they are, they wouldn't leave me there to die. We continued our walk, talking about things like how many more hours of sunlight we had left, why we weren't hearing any helicopters yet, and which dog we thought would be the most tender and juicy. (We were only kidding, animal lovers. We'd starve first.)

In a minute, Davis came up through the woods to meet us. He was the most beautiful vision. He walked with us to where the bike trail finally came out at the main trail and then we walked another downhill mile or more until we made it back to his truck, which was far, far away from where we'd left our car. My Fitbit was just before contacting the authorities for unusual behavior. Surely, I'd been abducted running up those kinds of numbers.
 
                       In the back of Davis' search and rescue truck.

So, the next morning, I woke up and got all ready for church. I was so happy to be going with all of my kids there with me. But, I plopped back onto the bed and confessed to Davis that I was sick. My scalp ached. My back ached. My hips ached. My teeth ached. All of my nerve endings throbbed. I had an impressive fever. I peeled off my Sunday clothes and got back in bed, isolating myself from everyone for the rest of their visit. I know what flu feels like and I've diagnosed myself as having it, albeit a more modest case as I had taken the flu shot for the first time, this year. "Get a flu shot," they said. "It will keep you from getting the flu," they said.

So, the moral of this story is that excessive physical exercise causes the flu. Warn your friends and neighbors. And, also, no 50 year old woman has any business out in the woods after having three glasses of tea, unless she's willing to bare her behind to the heavens and to the earth. And, lastly, joy can be found even in life's unplanned detours.

 Stay well.         

     

I'm sure I'm not the only one, who's starting to feel like I must have fallen asleep and woken up on a different planet. A place, where everything I've ever known or held to be true, right, or just is being turned on its head. Things that have always been viewed as noble and honorable are being shamed. Things that were once ghastly and horrifying don't cause so much as a blink anymore....even garnering thunderous applause. A place where the logical is seemingly invisible and the irrational is the new standard. It's a time when people don't know whether to sit or stand....looking all around instead of inside their hearts to decide what they should be doing. Even with what should be the most obvious choices or the givens, we're frantically checking ourselves against the reaction of others. I mean, being caught out of step could prove disastrous, these days.

It's a time when you can be destroyed in an instant because of a wrong word or foolish decision made in decades past. There is no forgiveness. There is no room for error. No expiration date. No benefit of the doubt. No redemption. No common sense approach to anything. A lifetime of good and helpful deeds could never right a past lapse of judgment or poor choice of words dug up by the wrong hands. There is a low hanging cloud of apprehension hanging over us as we speak or write. I'm even a tiny bit uncomfortable as I type this seldom traveled muffintop ground. We've all seen what can happen. The slightest slip can land you on the front page or penniless or ostracized or, heaven forbid, without any followers.

Even the strongest cave to the pressure. Bending and snapping under the weight of what we should or shouldn't say. What we should or shouldn't accept. What we should or shouldn't do. Just ask the person tasked with finding a singer for the Super Bowl's national anthem. Or stations looking for sponsors for a show embroiled in some sort of petty scandal. No one wants to offend even if it means a large number of people have to miss out in order to concede to the efforts of a small group of opposition. Even Christian leaders and artists are found trying to tip-toe around the areas that could come back to bite them. The pressure to maintain fans and increase followers causes words to be chosen most carefully and issues to be skirted. These are the new rules.

The values and beliefs, which were once considered admirable, are now the butt of prime time jokes and celebrity tweets. The things we were taught as being virtuous and holy now act as a bullseye for anyone who'd like to take a shot at those who still believe that way. Those old, archaic ways are the new signs of ignorance and intolerance. This type of deriding is acceptable only in the case of  Christian beliefs, but is never to be tolerated when aimed at any other group of people. These Christian people are fair game and its open season. So, we find ourselves lowering our voices instead of using our normal tones. We've seen the mockery that could come our way if we call too much attention to what we really believe. And it's done so loudly. So publicly. No one likes to be mocked, especially in front of others, right?

These days, the need to feel vindicated or proven right in our opinions overrides any other need.... especially the need for truth. At the end of the day, if wearing the jersey of the winning team means the truth has to be manipulated, then so be it. Egos are so grossly oversized and their appetites so insatiable that to sacrifice the reputation or character of another soul by misrepresentation is completely acceptable if it ensures your opinions are validated and you are affirmed by the example you make of them. There is no consideration of the lasting effects of those who opposed you. The important thing is that you are seen as being the one who is right and victorious.   

It should cause us all great dismay to know that we'd be fined and/or imprisoned for touching a sea turtle egg or harming an eagle's full nest, but don't dare be so bold as to suggest that it's immoral to do as you please to a human infant with a soul just before its birth. A growing number of states are hoping there will be stricter penalties in their jurisdiction for removing sea oats from the beach or fishing without a license than for killing a human baby at full term. The day before its birthday. The shameless gall of a leader, who would lean into a microphone and, without any hesitation, explain how a child delivered alive by accident, would be laid aside, while conversations and decision making take place. God, help us that a costume worn decades ago, though grossly callous and horribly detestable, drew the bigger response than the idea of murdering a baby in a way widely deemed too inhumane for the most violent criminals among us. But, it seems that's where we are now.

It is no longer acceptable to disagree. Total conformity to the other side is the only acceptable solution to the problem. In the event that this is not achieved, the destruction phase must begin. Defamation. Humiliation. Delegitimization. There is no longer the possibility of two opposing views coexisting in harmony. There is not enough tolerance on hand for that even though the word is a favorite among those who lack it. Unfollow. Unfriend. Block. Boycott. We feel empowered by all of the ways we can cripple and silence each other.      

I know this isn't sounding like a very uplifting post as is, hopefully, the usual here, but hang on. I've tried to sit and write about a few other things, this week, but my heavy heart kept coming back to the new depths of our heartbreaking descent and the tremendous pace at which we're traveling there. I don't think I can have a blog with the word, motherhood, in the title and not speak a word on the recent issues. I guess I just want to encourage us to not look frantically, from side to side, to see what we should be thinking and how we should be behaving in this world that has obviously gone insane. God's word should be our only gauge. Our only cue card.

I hope this will be an encouragement to others, who feel the same way about the recent goings on. You are not alone even when you're made to feel that way. I know we can start to believe that there are only a handful of us left. A mere smattering of those, who reject all the garbage we're being fed. Some days, we may feel awfully conspicuous and a bit self-conscious as we stand alone in a crowd. Standing there dumbfounded and wondering how in the heck we got to this wacky place, where we find ourselves. But, take heart. There are multitudes of us who are feeling like aliens, who've landed on a different planet. We refuse to assimilate. We have to be here for each other. And pray for each other and for our country.

And stand together.  

Not afraid to use our outside voices when necessary.

 
"And be not conformed to this world; but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God."  Romans 12:2        

"Pray also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel."  Ephesians 6:19

"Therefore having such a hope, we use great boldness in our speech."  2 Corinthians 3:12

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."
2 Timothy 1:7

"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven"  Matthew 5:11-12

"If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world."
John 15:19

"What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?" Romans 8:31


Have a great weekend! See you soon!