Archive for August, 2007

August 18, 2007 @ 7:32 am | Filed under: Uniquely Me

It began in May of 2004.

I had been hearing of "blogs" for some months and, Curious George that I am, I did some research, decided that having my own space in the blogosphere might be fun AND productive for my writing, and I reached out and claimed a spot just for me.

The past three and a half years have brought many changes, both in my professional life and in my personal life. I have to say that the posts on motherhood and family life have been my most favorite to write. The boys were just beginning high school when I blogged for the first time and now they are both away at college. I had two books published back in 2004 and now I have four. We’ve moved. I’ve gone back to college. Mike has become a private pilot. And I’m registered to run my first 5K this fall.

Through all of these life changes, I’d like to believe that I’ve only grown and matured and - hopefully - become each day more and more of the woman that God intends for me to be. Although I’ve posted on virtually every aspect of my life in the past few years, I truly hope that what has come through the clearest is my deep faith in God. Without Him, I lack strength of my own and everything - EVERYTHING - that I am or ever hope to be is without a doubt a gift from Him.

So it is with some hesitation, and a bit of sadness, that I announce this will be the last blog post from Glimpses. I have loved sharing with you, my friends and my readers, and who knows? - maybe I’ll blog again one day. But right now I feel strongly that my attention and efforts need to be streamlined a bit. It is all too easy for me to procrastinate on my writing or put off homework for another hour or two - all in the name of blogging.

With the boys now at college and settling into their new lives, I’ve been taking a careful examination of my priorities and where I need to direct attention most. Two big things are on my horizon: I go back to full-time writing on Monday, the 27th, after taking the summer off and I begin fall classes the very next day, on the 28th. I want to take full advantage of this time in my life, soaking up each extra hour I’ll now have with Mike, and savoring the rewards that come from a full days spent writing and attending classes.

Blogging has given me an outlet, a place to express my thoughts and feelings, and a way to sharpen some writing skills, all the while making myself accessible to readers and to friends. While I will no longer be blogging, I still want to communicate with you. Some of you are readers that I’ve met through my books. You’ll never know how much your emails have meant to me. Please - always feel free to email me whenever you want. My friends can attest - I’m a really faithful emailer!

And for my friends - well, you know I’ll still be around. I’ll still have four-thousand, seven-hundred, sixty-four pictures to share with you, and I’ll still be there for mid-class texts, funny emails, the occasional long lunch, and plenty of "The Gang" time!

With God’s help and with a whole lot of will power and sheer effort, I plan have several new books for you to read and enjoy in the next twelve months. If you’d like to be put on an email list and be alerted when a new book comes out, please pop me a line and I’ll add you right away. A quarterly e-newsletter will still go out to all those on this list.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me! I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

Staci (a.k.a. Glimpses)

August 15, 2007 @ 4:16 am | Filed under: Motherhood

It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’m up early, knowing that Round Two of The Moves is just ahead. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee downstairs is luring me and I’ll sit in the quiet, still dark living room and enjoy a couple of cups before pulling on my workout clothes and putting today’s walk behind me.

My morning prayers have been whispered as well, in the stillness of my bedroom, as I awoke with, both, a sense of delightful anticipation and a sad pang of…well, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Today Jorge moves to his own College Town and today will probably go much like Monday did. The exception is that, for this drive, Jorge will be in the car with me and we will have HOURS to talk on the way. Don’t you know he’s going to love that? Don’t ALL eighteen year olds love this kind of trapped-and-can’t-get-out-cause-we’re-driving kind of conversations with their moms?

But in all honesty, all the heavy conversations are behind us. The past weeks and months have been dotted with conversations around our house. Conversations where we’ve given advice, shared tips, communicated concerns, and mostly just tried to prepare this second son for the adventure that awaits him.

So now he’s ready and, amazingly, so am I. Though I can’t deny the tears that refused to stay bottle any longer last night and I gave in and let my heart and mind explore the changes that are enveloping our family and our home, when the tears dried and my heart was still, I only felt joy.

Deep, true joy. Jorge will be fine. This next step in his life will mold him and help to shape him and his future. And I will still be right here, always ready to talk whenever and wherever he might need me.

In the meantime, I’m doing my best to take a step back and let him grow up and venture out, knowing that we’ve instilled in him a deep faith and equipped him with an everlasting hope.

And as for this Empty Nest thing, well as someone so aptly put it, "how can a nest be empty if it’s filled with good things?" And my nest is filled with many, many wonderfully enticing things. Love, hope, friendship and a safe place for us all.

So, Mike Baby, when I pick you up at the airport tonight, I’ll be the woman with the party hat stuck on her head and the big, goofy grin on her face, okay?

Let’s get this adventure started!

August 13, 2007 @ 11:26 pm | Filed under: Motherhood

Our day began early. 3:30 a.m., to be exact.

Mike had an early morning flight to New Orleans, where he is scheduled to teach training sessions and call on customers for the next few days. By 4:20 he is showered, dressed, and out the door. I can tell that he is hesitant to leave and the words left unspoken between us are many.

The next time I see him will be when I pick him up at the San Antonio airport. By then I will have delivered both sons to their respective college campuses and life as we now know it will be altered.

A mere few hours later and Nate and I are staring down two loaded-to-capacity vehicles. His Mustang and our van.

I wave him good-bye, telling him I’ll be just a little way behind him on the highway. The truth, though, is that I could use just a few more minutes to acclimate to the coming hours and days.

Today is moving day for Nate and, by the looks of everything that is carefully packed and stacked into our cars, he is ready. Releasing him to another year away at school is somewhat easier this year. He has one year under his belt and the adjustment period for him will be minor, I know.

And yet my mother’s heart feels tight and constricted within my chest. I slowly down a final cup of coffee, check last minute emails and - basically - stall the inevitable. It’s time for me to climb behind the wheel and make the three hour drive to deliver the furniture and help Nate settle into what has become his life.

A life I am immensely proud of, even as I swipe at tears and will my worries to vacate the premises. He is no longer a child, but a capable, strong, and intelligent young man. He’s made numerous references this summer to the internships he looks forward to next summer and I know - though I may try so hard to ignore it - that life is shifting for us all. Nate is claiming his future, taking responsibility and working toward something that he is passionate about.

For this I am grateful.

Once behind the wheel, I pull through Sonic for that crucial Diet Coke, stick in my new favorite CD, crank up the volume, and hit the highway. By the time I’m on the long stretch between home and the campus that has become a second home to this family, I’m snapping my fingers and bee-bopping my head to the music blasting inside the van and coursing through my heart. This is what I’m singing along to.

I pull into College Town a few hours later, with a renewed happy heart and a secure knowledge that my life - and the lives of those I love - is in the best possible care ever.

My Father’s hands.   

August 8, 2007 @ 8:15 am | Filed under: Motherhood

"Are you okay?" Mike paused and turned, his overnight bag in one hand, his computer bag in the other.

I stood in the open doorway and nodded, doing my best to answer honestly. Not so much for his sake, as for my own.

"This is the beginning, isn’t it?" I met his eyes and forced a smile I didn’t totally feel. Not yet at least.

"It is." He hesitated and I waved him on, knowing that no words would ease me through the next few days. Time - I just needed a little time, and that’s what this week would be for. Four days alone to adjust to the fact that in less than a week Mike and I would have The Empty Nest.

I watched as he climbed into the van, where Jorge was already waiting in the passenger seat. I had stood in this same doorway hours earlier, waving to Nate as he backed out of the driveway, headed back to campus to finalize all of the paperwork on his housing for this school year.

The plan was that, since Mike was working this week in the Houston area, that all three of my guys would hang together for a couple of days. After some good male bonding, the boys will head off on their own for a last minute get-away to Galveston. By the time they return on Friday night, only the weekend will remain before they pack and leave for their respective campuses and school year.

My plan was a simple one. Spend the time shopping for the last minute things they’ll each need for their apartment and dorm, get their laundry caught up, and - maybe most importantly - spend the time in thought and prayer as I prepare to send my boys out into the world without me.

What has surprised me most this week is that I’m ready for this. As I sat at dinner with three close girlfriends on Monday night, I knew not only that I am prepared, but that the boys are too.

"I’ve done all that I can do. Now I have to trust that I’ve taught them well. It’s up to them now."

As I heard myself speaking these words, a mighty calm settled over this mother’s heart. It was true, and there is serenity in this knowledge. Both Nate and Jorge are equipped to handle whatever Life may bring their way. They will struggle and fight and play and laugh, and then struggle some more. They’ll jump the same hurdles and navigate the same mazes we all have to jump and navigate. But they are ready for this.

And so am I.

For the past twenty years I have been someone’s mother. Sure, I am wife, daughter, friend, writer, and student. I have numerous hobbies and interests. My life is full and fun.

But the stark truth is that for the past two decades it is the role of MOM that has defined me. It has been my breath when other things in Life has knocked me to my knees. It has been my joy when dark clouds hovered overhead. It has been my strength when I felt weak and imcompetent.

See, motherhood takes no vacations. There are no sick days, no mental health days, no part-time status, and it absolutely accepts NO resignations. And you’re never fired from the job, for certain!

For every decision I’ve made about my own life, I’ve made three or four for the boys’ lives. For every worry I’ve endured for my own set of circumstances, I’ve agonized endlessly over my sons’ problems. For every dream I’ve had the courage to dream for myself, I’ve braved taller mountains and more treacherous valleys to dream the mighty things in Life into being for my boys.

Motherhood is what I do.

And yet - I feel the subtle, soft winds of change begin to wisp through my soul this week and I am so very, very okay with it. The house is quiet around me, most certainly a whispered prelude to the weeks and months and years to come.

But instead of the dreaded stillness that I had envisioned, I only feel tranquility and I have to wonder…is this too a whisper? A soft promise of wonderful things that - even now - lie just on the horizon of all our lives?

On this third day of alone time and speculation, with the boys’ stuff piled into two distinct sections downstairs in the dining room, I feel tingles of deep anticipation.

Excitement.

Joy.

This is not an ending, by any means. It’s truly the "beginning," just as I had phrased it earlier in the week to Mike. Same story, just a whole new chapter. A new adventurous chapter for them, and a delicious new chapter for us.

I feel certain there is happy reading ahead for all us.

 

Nate’s stuff - Move date: Monday, August 13th - Second year SAM!

Jorge’s stuff: Move date - Wednesday, August 15th - FRESHMAN!

August 4, 2007 @ 2:26 pm | Filed under: Soul Food, The Solid Rock, Uniquely Me

Dear Me in 1983,

I’m sure that receiving a letter from me is the last thing you expected, huh? I can practically read your mind. Though I must seem impossibly old and out-of-date, considering that you are fifteen and a freshman in high school, here’s the deal. I see you struggling with so many things right now - things like love, friendships, and your purpose in life. If I had it my way I’d fix it all and pave the way smooth and straight for you. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that and, in the long run, you’ll be happy that it doesn’t. You’ll find your own way in time, though you’ll grow mighty impatient in the process.

You’ve only been out of the back brace for a few months now, but you still haven’t become accustomed to the fact that it’s not tightly fastened around your torso, holding your spine securely in place. The many months spent wearing it and feeling curious eyes upon you as you walked the school halls in dresses two sizes larger (to accommodate the brace) still plague you. I know it seems as though you’re the square peg trying desperately to fit into a round hole, but the reality is that all of your friends are also square pegs in disguise and - if the truth be known - there are no round holes.

Life is the great equalizer. But that’s another truth that you won’t learn for some years. In the meantime, treasure your friends, even when it feels like they are loving you one day and whispering behind your back the next. Girls are funny like that, but they truly mean no harm. These same girls will one day grow up with very real needs and you will be one of the ones they turn to to help them pray. How’re you going to pray for them if you allow bitterness and fear to creep in now?

You are a true romantic at heart, with a vivid imagination and a passion for something deep from life. Right now you think that finding love will be much like your daydreams and that this passion is meant to be spent on this elusive special person. I wish I had the words to gently tell you that real life love and passion are quite different than what you are finding on the pages of the novels we both love so much. They are no less real, or exciting, or breath-takingly terrifying - just…different.

Right now you feel like the traditional ugly duckling and you are sure that no boy, let alone any man, will ever want you for his own. But baby, this is just not true. I want to tell you to be patient, but I know you will not be. You’ll make decisions because you feel like there just aren’t enough choices. You’ll feel like Life is going to just zoom right on by you and you’ll be left behind and alone, so you will leap before looking a few times. It will hurt, I hate to say it, but you will survive and you will learn that Life is much bigger than you give it credit for. You will be a grown woman with babies of your own when you finally realize this, but that’s okay. It is during these years that God becomes vibrantly real to you and you will be a woman forever changed.

You WILL find great love and great passion, but it will come in a way you never expected. This love will fulfill you and grow you, both, as a woman and as a human being. Your life will be better for having been touched by this love and, in turn, the love you give in response will be a blessing as well. You will learn that love is a multi-dimensional thing and that, when left in God’s hands, it will continue to grow and thrive and excite and endure. Nothing can stop it, nothing can alter it. It just is. You already know that you have a heart that is meant to care and to shelter and to give. Protect that heart and just rest in the knowledge that - in good time, GOD’s time - your heart will find it’s permanent home. Again, it won’t necessarily be like you are expecting. It’ll be much better. I promise.

I know you envision yourself one day cuddling a daughter, but - guess what? You’ll become a mother to two little boys. Even though you’ll have to forego the hair bows, the Martha Miniatures, and the baby dolls, you will find endless delight and joy in these two blond-headed wonders. They will try you to no end at times, that much is for sure, but being their mom will be the best thing you will ever do. They will grow up SO fast. Do your best to treasure each moment, each milestone. Before you know it, they will be leaving home for college and you will have to release them, praying and trusting that they’ll always remember some basic truths you’ve endeavored to instill in them. Truths that you, yourself, have yet to discover. 

You know how you write in your diary each night? How many diaries have you filled up in your fifteen years, anyway? A lot, I know that! There will be a good many years when you give up writing down your thoughts, your hopes, and your dreams. Life will become tough and complicated and keeping a daily or weekly record of it all will be the last thing on your agenda. But then one day you’ll begin to write again. And this time you won’t stop. Journal entries will turn into essays and essays will turn into articles that you’ll eventually - hesitantly - submit for publication. After a few of them make it into print, you’ll grow brave enough to tackle the stories that have always lived inside of you. Characters like Grandma Hogan, Grace, Jackson, and Ella and Luke will come to life on the computer screen in front of you. They will bless you as you pour yourself into making their stories into books for others to read and to share. It will be your hope that these stories will encourage and uplift, that they will point others to truths that God shows you while you spend so many solitary hours in writing.

You’ll one day be living your dream. But it will be for real, and it will be yours. Your future is bright and beautiful. The tough times will soften you. The scary times will bolster you. The loving times will deepen you. What you will eventually embrace is that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:14 will become YOUR verse. If I could tell you anything right now, it would be to trust God. Laugh, love, and live your life. It’s really that simple. Everything else has a way of working itself out. You are going to be fine. No, wait. You are going to be more than fine.

Love and prayers,

Your 2007 Self

 

August 3, 2007 @ 7:01 am | Filed under: The Fit Life, Uniquely Me

Today is Friday, the third day of August, and I - Staci Wilder - just completed my first week of 5K training! Only…<gulp> EIGHT. MORE. gut-wrenching, sweat-drenching delightful. WEEKS.

Eight.

I can do this.

In honor of this effort, and the efforts of women everywhere who are trying to fight their way to fitness, here’s something to make us all smile! Enjoy!

A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE WOMAN’S STORY

Dear Diary…

For my 40th birthday this year, my husband purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my college tennis team 20 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Joe, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swimwear. My husband seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started!

The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress…

MONDAY

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Joe waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile.

Woo Hoo!!

Joe gave me a tour and showed me the machines. He took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. He was alarmed that my pulse was so

fast, but I attribute it to standing next to him in his Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Joey was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, all though my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!

TUESDAY

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Joe made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air - then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Joey’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!!

It’s a whole new life for me.

WEDNESDAY

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Joe was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Joe put me on the stair monster. Why in the world would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?

Joe told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crud too.

THURSDAY

Joe was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late. It took me that long to tie my shoes.

Joe took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the ladies room. He sent Muffy to find me. Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.

FRIDAY

I hate that jerk, Joe, more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, little cheerleader! If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Joe wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the bloody barbells or anything that weighs more than a Sonic Route 44 Diet Coke. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

SATURDAY

Joe left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

SUNDAY

I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a hysterectomy.