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Tuesday, August 01, 2017

Was the Prayer Answered?

A few years ago we kept a family prayer box.
Our daughter was probably in fourth grade and our son was in second.

We told them that they could write down anything and place it in the box and we would all pray over the box and share if/when the prayers were answered. "Ask God for anything and thank God for anything," I encouraged them.

I felt like this would allow them to say what was on their little hearts freely, knowing no one else could see what they wrote AND see how real God is when prayers were answered. This would encourage them!

I imagined what they wrote: for a puppy, a new toy, trip somewhere, super birthday party, etc.

Well...

Flash forward and our daughter is a rising junior in high school and our son is a rising freshman!
(When I started this blog he was one and she was three maybe)

We moved a few months ago and I came across the prayer box!

Smiling I sat down and opened it!

Tears came as I gingerly opened each written request.

Then, came one of the most surprisingly honest requests I'd ever seen.

After I read it, a few times, I thought about asking her if the prayer was answered.

Saturday, July 08, 2017

Rules

Our daughter is really into Cosplay. We've grown accustomed to receiving packages from China, wigs from local beauty stores and fully, professional looking videos of her, uploaded onto  Musical.ly, by our creative 16-year-old.
But I learned that we need to set some ground rules when Cosplaying.

Recently, we had a visitor. An older, friendly man who was talking with Daddy about life insurance. I introduced myself, and our son and daughter did too before they went off to their rooms.

A few minutes later our daughter, nonchalantly, walks into the kitchen. Dressed in character. A Korean male character. Softly singing in Korean.

Not surprisingly the conversation switched from life insurance to silence.

"What are you looking for?" Daddy asked her as she looked around in the fridge.

Literally taking on the character, she answered in Korean.

"English Maurissa!" Daddy responded.

"Oh!, she laughed. "Do we have any Sushi left?"

You could see the confusion in the man's face. He was puzzled but seemed to come up with the explanation.

 "Do you all have an exchange student living with you?"

Nah. But it sure seems like it sometimes.


Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Stuck!

Got stuck today.
Not in traffic.
Not in an elevator.

Got stuck in my clothes!

I was running late for a doctor's appointment today. Needed to use the bathroom but no time. The office wasn't too far away.

Traffic was a little slow but got there with a few minutes to spare.

Checked in and hurried to the bathroom.

I'd received wonderful compliments from coworkers earlier about my black jumpsuit.

It was cute but not so much in that bathroom stall.

Why did I buy a jumpsuit with buttons that didn't go all the way down??

I'm walking around in that small stall trying to get the suit down, like a puppy chasing its tail. Then I heard a toilet flush.
This made it worse! Thought I was in there alone.
After a few more stumbles and turns, I heard another flush.

Another person! Oh gosh!

Finally, I was able to get the suit down without ripping it. Another flush!

Realized I was the only one in there... it was an automated toilet. All that movement created flushes.

Finally got myself  suited situated and back to the waiting area.

"Or there you are!" the receptionist said, just as I sat down. "We were worried about ya. Everything okay?"

I just nodded, smiled and wiped the sweat from my head.

Bet I burned at least 50 calories in that bathroom.


Friday, March 10, 2017

Memory


My memory isn't what it used to be but it was pretty good when I was younger. Spending summers at my Godmother's house helped with that. We really referred to our mornings as prison time. Her daughter would cook oatmeal; regular oatmeal. I can still see that little Quaker dude on the box. At eight or nine, he seemed to grin at me while I tried to eat it. We were not allowed to leave the table until we ate our food. Being the leader I was at that time, I showed the others how to gradually put chunks of the lumpy stuff in a napkin. Then, once the warden she left the kitchen the third time, run and put the full napkins behind the curtain. We'd go back before lunch to dispose of it. Needed good memory to do that. Should've had common sense too. Doing that made her think we liked the stuff.

But my memory, at that age, has nothing on our daughter's memory at fifteen. While attending our son's school Open House for rising freshman recently, I also spoke to one of our daughter's current teachers.

"How is she doing in your class so far?" I asked him, shaking his hand.

"She's doing pretty well. She still has to do the presentation, but it's been hard for her with losing her voice and all."

Speechless.

"She was out for the three days when she was sick and it's been difficult for her to talk. The hoarseness has been bad. Feel bad for her."

Yes. You should feel bad for her. I thought.

I was hoping my face did not reflect what I was thinking.

He informed me that she could do the alternative which would be to take a test in place of the presentation. He seemed genuinely sorry for her.

When we got home I told her about the blind-sided conversation.

"Momma, you didn't tell him that I didn't lose my voice did you?"

Speechless again.

Her memory- much better than mine. She actually remembered to change her voice each time she went to that class. And it was believable.

"You may want to look into theater arts. You're good!"

"Well, actually, I-" she began.

"I wasn't serious!" I assured her.