Grace: Pass It On!

Dear Lindsey,

J.R., who recently turned 7, had an “it’s-tough-being-a-kid” day the other day. It began well as we decided to go fishing on a nearby State-owned lake. I had bought new rods-and-reels for his sister and him, in an attempt to reduce the chances of tangling. (I am convinced the toddler poles they have had for years were designed with quality to last for 4 days, and they had long since expired.) He was so excited! As soon as we pushed off from the dock, his line was in the water, trailing behind the boat.

When we were almost across the lake, J.R. excitedly announced, “Mom! I let out all the line of my whole reel!”

“J.R.!!” His brother scolded, in the way that only a big brother could. “If you catch a fish now, you won’t be able to bring it in!”

J.R. quickly tried to bring in the line, only to find that the new reel wasn’t reeling.

By now, we were being blown toward the opposite shoreline, so I told him I would help as soon as I got the boat to a safe place. Unbeknownst to me, he was worried he was going to catch a fish, so had begun pulling the line in by hand. While I diverted the boat from submerged objects, and fought the wind’s desire for me to hit land, an hour’s worth of work collected behind me: J.R. pulled the entire 150 feet into the boat. As if descending on its prey, the fishing line tangled the boat along with Christine’s line while gathering as a rat’s nest on the boat’s floor.

“Oh good, Mom, I got all the way to my lure!” he naively informed me.

As I turned to him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In the first ten minutes of the trip, he had managed to take three of us out of fishing ability.

Ugh!

I fought my urge to yell, “What were you thinking?!” as I let the boat bang up against a branch, which I knew would hold us in one place while I battled the tangle. I knew if I showed my frustration, he would melt down. He wasn’t trying to be a problem.

This was just one of those “kid” moments. You know the kind? He was only being a kid. His inept ability to maneuver a line or assess the situation was affecting us all. It wasn’t his disobedience, a foul heart or purposeful mischief. I had seen it before: once, he left the water running and overflowed the sink to the basement. Another time, he had tried to clean up his own mess and only made it messier. Times like these are when we moms have a lot of power: We can yell and scream due to our selfish frustration, teaching any child within ear-shot that anger should be used when things don’t go OUR way, or we can save our anger for something more important –something which is eternal. I tried to work on the solution in silence, to keep the moment teachable.

“Sorry, Mom.” He assured me while I pulled line apart, one inch at a time. I would love to have just cut it loose, but it was the entire spool of line, so he wouldn’t have been able to fish. I worked some more and managed to get it free from the boat and from Christine’s line. I gave J.R. my pole so he could at least fish, while I stayed focused on the ball of twined line in the bottom of the boat.

Just as I got the tangled mass to a point where I could cut it and still have enough with which to fish, I realized we needed to depart our fishing spot and head to the dock, in case the wind slowed our crossing of the lake. I didn’t want to be late for picking up my eldest, Casey.

We were back at the dock without delay, so we had 10 minutes to spare.

“Can we PLEASE fish from shore for a few minutes?” Nate asked.

“Sure, “ I said. We loaded the gear into the truck, and drove toward the park exit. There was a sandy shoreline, which we had wanted to try, next to the exiting driveway.

When I came to the alluring fishing spot, there was one fisherman already there, enjoying the serenity of the natural surroundings of ducks and geese with ducklings and goslings. This fifty yards of beach was decked out with park benches. A canopy of trees provided shade as well as homes for the squirrels that raced in every direction.

The man sat there in silence. His shirtless body was decorated with tattoos, covered slightly by the long hair flowing from his hat. In his fifties with deeply tanned skin, he looked like this was not his first day at the pond.

“You can fish anywhere, kids, but please stay far from that man. Let him have his peace.” I said as I handed each a pole and glanced at the clock to mentally note the 10 minutes I would get to read while they fished before we needed to go pick up their brother.

BEFORE I EVEN OPENED MY BOOK, I looked up to see poor J.R., now with his line ACROSS the man’s line. I couldn’t believe it! I had only given one direction: “Stay away from that guy. Give him space. You can go anywhere except where his line is.” It sounded like a scene from Peter Rabbit, and J.R. was going to miss out on blackberries and milk for dinner!

This could get ugly. I feared, glancing at the guy as he stood to assess the situation.

I quickly descended the hill to the water’s edge, and began pleading forgiveness for my son’s error.

“I am sorry. I think his cast went in a different direction than he intended.” I said.

“Well it’s ok. I was his age once,” the stranger replied. “How’s he going to learn if he doesn’t try?”

Tears welled in my heart as I appreciated this stranger’s grace. The man’s kind answer to my son affected me all day. When a driver cut me off, a friend forgot a promised delivery, or a waitress messed up my order, I thought, “Hey, I was ‘young’ once too.”

Grace.

Pass it on.

It is amazing the distance of the ripples in the water where it falls.

May God bless your day as you bless others with grace,

Terri Brady

Ephesians 1:7 For by the blood of Christ we are set free, that is, our sins are forgiven. How great is the grace of God,

Matthew 6:14-15 If you forgive others the wrongs they have done to you, your Father in heaven will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, then your Father will not forgive the wrongs you have done.

To do? Thing 1 and Thing 2

Dear Lindsey,

Patrick Lencioni, in his book, Five Laws of Decline, defines one of the reasons for being miserable on a job as having “immeasurable goals.”

I guess Lencioni’s definition of “job misery” may explain why there are days of even motherhood that are, well, miserable. A mother’s goals can be so immeasurable. If my child gets all A’s, then am I a good mom? Then what if my straight-A student becomes a father out of wedlock? Does that make me a bad mom? What if I had done nothing different between the two incidents? My results are immeasurable.

In a previous letter, I told how one of my children apologized to me for staying up until 10:08pm the night before, when I had only told him he could read in bed until 10. Good mom? This week, one of my children got caught cheating; then lied, denied and blamed with an unrepentant heart and left me crying, “God, I feel like I am losing.” Miserable mom.

I like the way Rick Warren, author of Purpose Driven Life described life when his wife was battling breast cancer. He said that life isn’t necessarily a series of peaks and valleys as he had once thought, but more like a railroad track. One rail is negative and the other rail is positive, and our train keeps moving down the track at full speed.

In my last letter, I wrote a “Shout-Out to Moms” and comments were made regarding approximately 50 moms. I studied the comments. What makes a good mom? What can I learn from these women that will help my children the most? How can I apply it to my own motherhood?

In the shout-outs to moms, nobody said that a mom was a great mom because, “She had the laundry done every week!” or  ”She looked like a model from the Victoria’s Secret catalog!” or “She kept high-fructose corn syrup out of the house!” (Seriously, have I stressed about these things?!) However, the common thread was there – and would truly apply to success in any job. The majority of them shouted:

Thing 1: “She loved God.” And

Thing 2: “She loved me.”

I suppose any job is not as immeasurable as it seems. Did I love God today? Did I love people today? Imagine what the Lord could do with that!

May God bless your profession as you live it for Him,

Terri Brady

Matthew 22:34-40 34 Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. 35 One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: 36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” 37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Shout out to Moms!

Dear Lindsey,

After my nephew’s recent baseball tournament win (Go Armour! of Parker, CO), I saw some teamwork exercises that made it obvious they were not just winning baseball, (nationally ranked 3rd!) but raising winners who understand teams. Among other exercises, they had a “shout-out!” time where they sat in front of the coach, and each boy enthusiastically raised his hand for the pure enjoyment of telling what he noticed one of his teammates doing right.

“Lance pitched great.”

“Geno had a great play at second.”

“Jo Jo kept a good attitude even when the ump made a bad call.”

What a great idea! That coach is teaching a life-skill I wish I had known at that age! It is called edification. “Therefore encourage one another and edify one another, just as in fact you are doing.” (1Thes 5:11) Giving credit where credit is due is a trait often forgotten in this dog-eat-dog world. As a child, and unfortunately into adulthood, I remember feeling that if I lifted someone else, it made them think that I was less in comparison. But edifying others is quite the opposite: the more we lift, the more we are lifted!

I love audience participation, so in this week of Mothers’ Day, I would love to SHOUT-OUT to some moms and ask you to do the same! It doesn’t have to be your own mom; it can be any mom in whom you see something to admire. Specific stories that illustrate why someone is great always inspire others and help us remember how to apply it!

Before shouting-out praise for moms, I really want to lift up prayers: Mothers’ Day can be a time of sadness for so many – those who wish to be mothers and are not, and those who miss their mothers dearly. Please take a moment and send prayers their way–every day this week! Our prayers are with you, girlfriends! Please feel free to participate in our shout-out and I hope it helps uplift your day.

A few rules for shouting-out about a mom:

  1. No jealousy allowed. If you see someone singing the praise of someone you know, quietly tell God thank you for those two women lifting each other, and get your mind off yourself! God knows :) .
  2. Comments on this blog stay with this letter and increase page ranking (Comments count like votes for online searches on the topic.)– which is nice for future onlookers, so they can see some positive things you say about a mom. Comments about this blog put onto Facebook, Twitter, etc disappear within days and are not connected here for others to read. (I learned this when I did the letter on Family Traditions; all of the comments on FB were fantastic, but were gone into the depths of archives before Christmas.)
  3. No negative. This is a general rule for shout-outs. You can’t start with “She drives me crazy, but…” No buts about it, shout-outs are positive! Write the negative in sand, and write the positive in stone – on a comment. You may have nothing positive to say about a mom except, “She didn’t abort me,” and that is a perfectly acceptable, wonderful shout-out!! Life is a gift, and God gave it to you through her.
  4. I don’t mind long shout-outs, so say it like you mean it!! You can copy this link and send it to the mom on Mothers’ Day as a special blessing.

Here goes! I am writing about a different mom each night this week, hence the different color fonts.

I want to SHOUT-OUT about Kerri Bosma of Michigan. This mom took the letter, “Sunrise, Sunset, Fishing for Memories” to heart and then sent a photo of her son, Kayson, whom she took “early morning fishing.” What a catch of a mom! Maybe I should have mentioned that I meant fishing in Florida winter or Michigan summer, but not necessarily early morning Michigan winter!! Two thumbs up for that mom!!

Attach a comment of your own shout-out to a mom and check back tomorrow to see my next mom shout-out.

I want to SHOUT-OUT about this “unknown” mom I saw on a street in Colorado last week. Of course, to her, it may have been a “normal” morning exercise routine, but to me it was worthy of SHOUTING because I think she was seeking excellence in family, fitness and faith (LOL) all at the same time. Not only is she pulling her own weight, but the weight of Superman (complete with cape) and his sibling (or two!- I can’t see inside the trailer). Go, Mom, Go!!

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This shout-out goes to the special moms of children with special needs. Although I do not know her personally, according to the comment below from 5/9/12, Michele Lewis’s sister, Kim, is a foster mom who chooses specifically those children with special needs. What a special lady! I want to shout-out to moms who may never hear their child say, “Mom,” but God knows her name. These moms may have more doctors’ appointments than playdates, and have embarrassing moments in public, with intensely tearful moments in private. These moms may wish others would stop complaining about “Italy” when they are trying to stay focused on “looking for tulips in Holland.” These moms may have their brains stretched further than they thought they could go, and their hearts stretched to equal capacity, as they celebrate the simple things that moms who don’t have a special needs child would never know. Shout out to you, Mom! Your child is blessed that God gave him/her to you!

It makes me want to SHOUT when I think of my late grandmother, Annie Pearl (Polly) Hodge. Born in 1896, she was a widow before I was born. (Joseph C. Hodge 1884-1967) Although I never saw her as a wife, she planted seeds in me that she never could have known would take root. She lived in Talladega, Alabama, while I grew up in Pennsylvania. At the age of 9, I had a week with her, when my parents let me go by myself to “take care of her” since she was elderly. It was a treat for me to cook meals, because “playing house” was finally feeling like the real thing! I cooked oatmeal for breakfast (despite the fact that I didn’t eat it -it was just fun to use a hot stove), and to this day I make chicken and dumplings, because that is what she taught me that week. We played

Grandma Hodge 50th Wedding Anniversary

dominoes for hours on end- even up to her dying days in her upper nineties in a nursing home. I can almost hear the sound of her voice when I sip her favorite drink, Dr. Pepper, because the taste brings a flood of memories. Her greatest influence on me by far was a devotional book she had. Each morning of that 7 day trip, she would have me read the book aloud to her (because “her eyes were bad”) and it was probably the most Bible I had read outside of a Sunday. I admired that and wanted to do it for myself. God used my grandmother’s 7 days with me to influence me for a lifetime. 7 days!

As I grew, I remember thinking, “If Grandma needed me to read that book to her, how does she read it when I am not there?” and then I would dismiss the thought – because God planted seeds during that time that are still growing today. I love you and miss you, Grandma! and look forward to the day when we shall meet again.

I would love to shout-out about my 95-year-old grandmother who lives on a farm in Kansas, still mows 4 acres of her own grass and grows an annual garden, canning at harvest. She makes her own peanut butter, lye soap, and crafts things from what-would-

be nothing. (She made sewing cards for my daughter last year by drilling holes in the shape of animals out of empty Clorox bottles that she had cut into 4-inch square “cards”. I kind of wish I could have seen the 94-yr-old woman with the drill!) For her 90th birthday, someone gave her a new gun, because she shoots rattlesnakes, and for years, it has been with a crooked-barrel shotgun! She has written poetry that somehow mixes tears with the warm fuzzies of home. She quilts-by-hand at 20 stitches per inch, makes homemade cards for every birthday and has given a full-size quilt to every grandchild and great-grandchild. She has been a hero of mine for most of my life. My earliest memory of admiration was wanting to be “a farmer’s wife when I grow up,” according to my 3rd grade paper. This shout-out goes to Grandma Fern Estes of Kanorado, KS!

My mother-in-law, Gayle Brady, deserves a shout-out…or many! A breast cancer survivor, she leads her life with the love-of-Christ. I never have to wonder if she is “in my court” or not; she would be there for me in a heartbeat. She raised the most wonderful man (or two –I’m sure her other daughter-in-law would say) in the world, and her influence in him shines. She taught me to cross-stitch shortly after marriage, because she could never sit still and “only” watch a movie. She has a rule, “Don’t set it down, unless you are setting it in its final place,” which has tremendously helped my house stay clean, because my husband still lives it and says it to me-lol! I thought she had the most amazing memory, until I visited her house and found post-it notes on the cupboards. I realized that maybe those gifts we admire in others on not all “natural,” but they are traits of someone who is humble enough to identify where help is needed and then use the help! She is so proud of her son (as am I!), yet gives God the glory: “I don’t know where you came from, but I know God did it!” she tells Chris. Her reaching out to me has been a secret to the closeness of our relationship, and truly an example I want to follow with my future daughters-in-law. But wouldn’t it be better to hear the words straight from the one who calls her, “Mom?”

Here is what Chris has to say:

“I would like to leave a shout out to my mom! She has to go down in history as one of the

Jim and Gayle Brady

most flexible, positive, encouraging souls to ever dare to raise two rascally boys. I have many happy memories of her selflessness and service to us, such as a full Sunday dinner arranged and served on the back of a dusty motorcycle trailer at the racetrack, red paint overspray on every surface of our home (it somehow got in from the garage where we were painting my Camaro) for which she didn’t even get angry, chore lists left on our countertop to prevent summer laziness, spectating at all of our sports and musical events (many boring hours, no doubt!), authoring many inside jokes and family giggles, and faithfully demonstrating how marriage is supposed to work through all seasons and situations. Thank you, Mom! I hope I am living my life worthy of how you raised me!”

Lastly, and of course most importantly to me, I would love to shout about my own mom, Sue Estes. An amazing cook, she defined volunteer work by cooking for 80 children every Wednesday night at the church where I grew up in Carlisle, PA. She knows food is a love language, and she is fluent in it! Famous for her pies, she would make an entire pie for every person who attended our Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.

Hospitality was her natural gift. I don’t mean the pinky-in-the-air matching place-settings, (which she had!) but I mean the door was open to whoever walked in, and they would feel welcome to live there, anytime. Her freezer and cupboard were full “just in case” someone stopped in “unexpectedly.” She expected it.

Mom and Me

Jesus said, “What you have done for the least of these, my brethren, you have done for me.” My mother served “Jesus” on more than one occasion. Once there was a bad car accident on the highway near our neighborhood. We children heard the collision and ran to the fence to see. My mother followed through with more than rubber-necking. I don’t know if she jumped the fence, or jumped in the car and followed the ambulance, but I do know that the family that was far from home on vacation was hospitalized and released at different times from each other. My mother offered our home to the father and children while they waited for the other children and mother to be released from the hospital. In my memory it was months, but knowing how children’s brains work, I guess it was probably a week that this family “moved in” with us, with bandaged wounds showing, as they awaited the mother’s medical clearance.

Mom had a dream to be a nurse, but when she was a teen, she came upon a bad car accident and fainted. Because of the experience, she “chickened out” from nursing school. The dream never faded, even after her courage had. Years later, when my oldest brother graduated from high school (and her youngest of four was in 4th grade), my mom tenaciously picked herself up by the bootstraps and went to college, 45 minutes from home, full time. She graduated from college as an R.N. the same week as her oldest child.

I don’t know if it is possible to identify, much less quantify someone’s greatest trait, but Mom surpasses the world’s standards when it comes to being flexible and conforming to circumstances that change. She has been babysitting for me and ended up voluntarily taking on other people’s kids when their sitter didn’t show up. Once on family vacation, when our car ran off the road on the way back from a remote fishing lake in Canada, embedding in sand and needing a tow truck, she immediately got all of the fish out and started lining them up on the ground to make a photo shoot out of the time we had to kill. What would have been a stressful, bad memory turned into fun. (Although, we did laugh AT her sometimes, I think she knew deep down we enjoyed it.)

In 2008, when I had to make the call to let my parents know I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I really think Mom was in the car before I hung up – ready to make the 1600miles drive to be by my side…for a doctor’s appointment. Wild horses had to hold her back until a few weeks after surgery, when I really needed someone flexible enough to let me try some steps back into life, but take over when I got exhausted.

“Shouting out!” about her kids has never been held back by my mom. She would tell a complete stranger in Walmart or Wendys (the two places I specifically remember witnessing!) all about her children and grandchildren’s accomplishments. She is president of 4 adult-children’s and 12 grandchildren’s fan clubs! I love you, Mom!

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Thank you so much to all who are shouting-out in the comment section below. Amazing stories about amazing moms! I have so much to learn!

J.R. (at 3-yrs-old) summed it up best when he asked, “Who is God’s mommy?” When I told him God did not have a mommy, he replied, exasperated, “Oh, He must be so sad!” God truly blessed us when He gave us moms to admire.

As mothers advance in age, I see a pattern of ailments that seem inevitable in my own future: Knees grind; a heart needs monitoring; hips that used to shimmy shimmy coco-bop, get stuck on the bop; skin gets speckled and thin enough to tear at a mere thought; bellies malfunction; brains fade; voices get hoarse, and sleep is hard to come by (at night anyway).

It is as though a mother’s body is just …well-used.

If my hips need replacing, may it be because they were first displaced by children.

If my knees get sore, may it be from bending in prayer.

If my belly is torn up, may it be because I took gut-wrenching pain away from my kids.

If my voice gets hoarse, may it be because it was overused encouraging.

If I can’t ever remember what I am going to say, may it be because my memory is full of the gifts of motherhood.

If my skin gets speckled and soft, may it represent my buffalo skin fading away to allow true love to show.

If my heart needs monitoring, may it be found exploding with gratitude.

In love and thankfulness,

Terri Brady

Exist or Excel, Exactly!

Dear Lindsey,

I recently was asked to be the accountability partner for some ladies who are taking the Mental Fitness Challenge. This 90-day personal challenge is designed to improve the fitness – of the mind. Continue reading

Sunrise, Sunset, Fishing for Memories

Dear Lindsey,

There have been so many times when I have felt like I was not thriving but barely surviving motherhood. By far, one of the most challenging was when my youngest was crying all the Continue reading

Atlantis Resort – Full of Surprises!

Dear Lindsey,

I was just reminded of a funny motherhood moment I HAD to share!  The Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas is as amazing as everyone had told us it would be. The check-in experience in a lobby with a 7,000 gallon fish tank (bearing sting rays, sharks and eels among the hundreds of sea creatures) told us that this was out of the league of “usual” 5-star resorts. All in all, over 200 million gallons of water are used for the watersides, pools and unending sea-life homes. This resort attempts fun for all ages by also offering dancing, bars and even a casino on site.  Being frugal, despite being at a 5-star resort (and being able to deduct taxes, since business meetings were held there), we scoped out the cheapest way to feed our children, then ages 6, 3, and 4-months.  The restaurant that fit the needs for our kids- who never seemed to finish a plate of food-  was just on the other side of the casino. We instructed our babysitter to take the children there for dinner, while we got ready to go to our meeting.

As Chris and I walked to the convention room, we took the short-cut through the casino. We were surprised to see our children and sitter there, coming back from dinner already.  The babysitter explained that dinner had been cut short due to an accident that the 3-year-old had in his pants…#2.

Yuk.

Being a mom, I decided I needed to assess the damage in case there were any special instructions for the babysitter – like, “You can throw away the pants.”

To my surprise, when I looked into his shorts, nothing was there! I looked down the line of carpet, slot machines ringing on both sides, and realized that somewhere along the path from the restaurant, the dirty deed had rolled out of the shorts and onto the floor.  I was horrified! We continued our walk, scouring the floor to see if we could find the mess to clean up. I couldn’t help but notice 4-inch Stiletto heels on a woman, and was thankful they had not speared our “treasure.”

Atlantis, Nassau, Bahamas

Atlantis, Nassau, Bahamas

The evidence was never found…by us anyway.

Have a laugh  today!

Terri

Holland or Italy: Just Passing Through

Dear Lindsey,

Emily Perl Kingsley wrote an essay in 1987 called, “Welcome to Holland.”  In the writing, she analogizes what it is like to have a special needs child. She describes it as if you are planning a trip to Italy.  While you are anxiously awaiting the cuisine, the Tuscan views, and the beautiful art, you save money, prepare the bags and buy the plane tickets. However, after the plane lands, a flight attendant makes an announcement, “Welcome to Holland.” Continue reading

Hard to Swallow

Pregnancy, although an answer to years of prayer for me, was not always the joy I thought it would be.  For one of my four pregnancies, every morning began with morning sickness, which never seemed to understand when noon had come and gone. Continue reading

Perceptive Perspective (I hope)

Dear Lindsey,

The kids were rewarded for delivering drugs! That’s all I remember from my college spring break trip to Washington D.C. We handed out food in a Continue reading