Ok, so I look nothing like the girl in the picture...but it is a process right. I think I have thought more about food this last week than I have in the last year, and I was able to start improving my habits. I was able to get my exercise in almost every day !! (so yay for me!) Did not get on the scale at the beginning of the week so I do not know exactly where I am, but I have noticed I already have way more energy!!!

My brown eyed girl

Five years ago today she was born to a mother who willing chooses to live on the streets of Houston.A missionary group from YWAM found her three weeks later at 2:30 in the morning on her mother's lap sitting on the street.
The mission field that YWAM is called to in Houston is the Montrose area of town.There teenagers and young adults have chosen an alternative lifestyle,selling their bodies for drugs just hanging out and living a life that most of us would run from.YWAM has set up a rescue system for the babies born to these "street kids".There are safe houses for the babies to go to, to get them off the street and out of the hotel rooms, and away form the drugs and sex...if even for only one night.We were asked to house such a baby, a little girl who had no where else to go.Little did we know it was because she as a "problem baby"...she cried a lot. We were hemming and hawing...right up til they sent us the email,yep the email with the picture of the big brown eyes that had the cutest baby surrounding them.I think it was 12 hours later that we were driving to a mall parking lot to pick up our little visitor.What was supposed to be a few days turned into weeks and then months. After two years the birth mother requested to see her twice and showed up once.

Now here we are 5 years later after sleepless nights, eczema,temper tantrums,home studies,social worker interviews,one very tense day in court plus more laughs than we could ever count, our family (as far as we know)is complete.

So happy birthday baby girl! If nothing else know that you are loved and to us you are love...my beautiful,intelligent, brown eyed girl

Treadmills and Such

We went to the gym a few weeks ago, me and my girls. Yep we hit the gym to start the New Year off right! They got to the machines a little before I did and were up and going as I climbed onto my new death machine of choice. They both run on treadmills and were several rows in front of my elliptical runner. I turned my IPOD on and started off a killer pace. As my oxygen ran short I began to notice some interesting things. The first was that even from behind you can tell my girls are related, not that they are identical but there is just a certain synchronicity to their movements. They each have different running styles but there is a grace they share that is hard to define but easy to see. They each have strong purposeful strides that they seem to be able maintain for ever. Then as my oxygen levels dropped even lower I began to see this trip to gym as a metaphor for our lives. My girls are growing up and moving on. they no longer need to hold my hand or even be next to me as they learn new things and just get on with their lives The cool thing I noticed was that we were still going the same direction and that as they finished one exercise they came back to see me and let me know what they were doing next and to chat for a bit before they moved on to their next exercise. This also mirrors our life, they no longer need me to make all the decisions for them, but they do come back to keep me posted and to touch base. You know what? Our lives are changing but it' gonna be OK. Sometimes I miss my girls but I love the women I see them becoming. So I guess as long as I can still see my brown eyed girls,even in the distance all is right in my world!

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Why do I weep

Why do I weep? you are in a better place

Do I weep for for the little ones who will never know you

Why do I weep? you have no suffering or pain

Do I weep for a kindred spirit that has gone on

Why do I weep? you are with your creator and God

Do I weep for you or do I weep for me?

Why do I weep? you are in a better place

Do I weep because one I love is no longer with me

Why do I weep? you have no suffering or pain

Do I weep because one who helped mold me is no more

Why do I weep? you are with your creator and God

Do I weep because I can no longer be who I was when you were here

Why do I weep? you are in a better place

Do I weep for memories of the past or do I weep for memories that never will be

Why do I weep? you have no suffering or pain

Do I weep for the sadness I feel in others

Why do I weep? you are with your creator and God

Do I weep for a part of me that is gone...

I weep for me
My eyes cannot stay dry, my heart cannot be whole

I weep for you
For the dreams that never were

I weep for us all
If mere tears could fill the void you left, the earth would flood

For my brother who we all love

I WEEP!

The Day Before

They were scared, they felt alone, a little betrayed and scared.They were locked in a room where the slightest noise made the grown men jump. They had crept in one at a time not making eye contact then sitting quietly, each one afraid to be the first to speak, afraid to put into words what they all were feeling.As the time passed and they looked into each other faces, they saw the same disbelief and sadness. One by one they began to tell stories, stories they all knew and heard repeatedly for the past three years. Now the tales brought a sense of peace and a moment of forgetfulness, forgetfulness until one of them would look at the two empty spots around the table and then the pain would hit them again.The pain of losing two friends, one a betrayer and the other their beloved teacher. The men looked at each other and wondered how they could have been so wrong? Had they missed something,had they been mislead? Even as these thoughts crossed their minds each one remembered the miracles, the water to wine, making the blind to see,the lame to walk, casting out demons, and even raising the dead.One even had the special memory of walking on water, that memory would live forever in the heart and mind of the fisherman who had been blessed with that gift.It was the women who looked after the men, they brought the food and prepared the chamber for them.As the group considered these women, it occurred to them that the master always had a special love for women,he treated them as he treated the men.with dignity and respect and they loved him for it.The women listened to the stories just as intently as any man and now as even as they were suffering just as much as any of the men, they still saw to the needs of the eleven.Some of the women were even gathering supplies to take to the tomb in the morning. Supplies that were necessary to prepare the body for burial. Burial that is word they never thought to use for the teacher. He was always so alive and vibrant not one of the men had ever considered that he could actually die. The fact that he allowed himself to be taken prisoner still had them confused and no matter what had happened on that long Friday, they kept waiting for a miracle. They stood in the shadows and the background their faces covered,hoping and praying for a miracle.They prayed for God in heaven to rescue the teacher, they waited for the angels to descend or for the rabbi to rise up and break his bonds and declare his kingdom and kill his enemies. When this did not happen and indignity after indignity was heaped on this one man, the followers began to look away.They did not understand and could not bear to watch as their beloved friend was beaten beyond recognition, stripped of his dignity, mocked and spat upon.They had traveled separately up the streets behind the bloodied and battered man, their tears blinding them as they stumbled up the hill to the place of execution, the place where their friend would die, where he would die a horrible and painful death, a death he did not deserve for crimes he did not commit . The hammering of the nails drove some of the men away, it was almost like they could feel the pain of the spikes being driven into their flesh.The ones remaining witnessed the final degradations, the thorn crown being pushed onto an already bleeding head, the blood flowing down to obscure even more of his face,the sign placed above his head to mock the dying man and make him even more of an object of ridicule.The process of crucifixion is a long painful ordeal, you are awake, you can hear and speak,but unfortunately you can also feel, you can feel the spikes through your hands and legs you can feel the thorns digging into your flesh, and you can feel your breathing become more shallow as the hours pass, you can feel the lack of oxygen as you slowly suffocate.The day passed with nightmarish slowness, as the friends and family of the teacher gathered at the foot of the cross, each praying for a miracle and then finally just praying for his suffering to end.When the end came there was relief for the followers of the teacher and fear for the executioners it seems a series of "coincidences" had the officials and religious leaders stirred up. At the exact moment of the teachers death the temple veil ripped and when the sun disappeared the ones who orchestrated the execution felt a deep terrible sense of foreboding. They decided to place guards around the tomb of a dead man.Guards who knew it meant their death if anything happened to the body.Strange precautions for the son of a carpenter, especially over the Sabbath when no one was allowed to walk more than a few steps.The men in the locked room discussed all this as they settled in for another long night. The room grew quiet as each one drifted off to sleep, each one to dream their own dreams, some of fond memories and peace, one of the new responsibility of caring for an elderly woman and at least one to relive the nightmare of denying a friend and watching him die.As the candles died down and the men slept a presence filled the room. A presence that brought a feeling of peace and love to everyone in the room, it brought with it a sense of hope, even though the sleeping men had no idea what the future held, the spirit knew that in a few short hours all would be made known and that these men and women, these chosen few would understand all and then begin the greatest adventure of all time!Now, we only have to have to wait for sunrise!

My Feelings /My Brother

My brother died last June. It stills seems strange to say these words, you see I have not lost any one really close to me for a very long time and I never really thought that someone I love so much could be here one day and then less than a week later take their last breath. Henry ( my brother) was diagnosed at four years old with juvenile diabetes. He not only lived with this,but we as a family lived with it as well. This disease not only effects the patient it effects their families and every friend you have growing up. You see as children you do not really understand why you can't have all the same snacks as your friends and why you have to take shots when you feel fine and why you have to poke yourself with needles several times a day.

Henry was born fifth out of six children and was next in line after me.I do not think I always treated him as well as I should have, you know how kids can be..." why can't I have ...just because he can't eat it" not some of my proudest moments but they were real. As we grew up we had more fun together.My brother grew into a good man and he made me very proud.( I know the bible says not one is good, but if anyone is it was Henry) Henry loved life more than most people I know and he welcomed all new experiences, his eye specialist finally made him quit bunji jumping because of the damage it was causing to his eyes( diabetes not effects your blood sugar but every major organ and system as well). He was also one of the most gentle men I have ever met. He never met a child he did not like or who did not like him he was every body's uncle.

.One of my most favorite memories of Henry is when Edwin and I lived in the DC area, and Henry came for a visit, it was winter and we took a day trip to Baltimore, it was dusk and we were just walking through the cold city and it occurred to me that people were kind of paying us a little extra attention, I could not figure out why until I realized Henry had come to town in full Texas regalia he had his felt stetson, his boots and his huge duster. I just laughed out loud, not at him but because that is who is was. A cowboy through and through, not because that was his job but because that was his soul. He was like a John Wayne character, a man who loved , a man who helped anyone who needed it, a man who like to have a good time and man who would never back down from anything.

As most of his friends were settling down and having kids, Henry's disease kept progressing, When he started dialysis we had no idea how he would handle this, well he handled it like everything else. Henry met this obstacle head on and on his terms. He continued to work full time for the next several years while going to dialysis three times a week. They say most people go on disability when they start dialysis,but not Henry, he continued to to work and get promoted in the Texas Prison system. He loved his job and was very good at it. He was an honest and an honorable man. He never let diabetes change who he was and he would not let us treat him any differently than we treated each other,which at times can resemble The Friday night smack down.
As the diabetes progressed Henry moved home with my Mom and Dad, which for a lot of people would be disastrous and I know at times it was tough, but they loved each other enough to make it work.

One of my best memories in recent years was when we evacuated for Rita, it took us like 20 hours to get to Amarillo and when we got there we just passed out, at this time Mari had been with us for about a month and she was just 7 months old, When I finally came too and staggered down the hall, there was Henry holding a very content Mari sleeping on his chest. She had known him less than 24 hours and had already fallen in love.


Over the last few years the girls and I, along with my sister would try to go home at least twice a year. For me it really was going home, the best things never changed, we just pick up where we left off, Henry and I shared a similar taste in movies and comic books so we always had something to talk about. And because of Henry a cup of Sonic ice will never again be just a cup of ice.


I think towards the end we came to terms with what was happening while at the same time holding on to good dose of denial, I think that is one of my best coping devices, acknowledge the problem, work to fix it then just shut it off for a while.

For me when the end came it came quickly and way before any of us were really ready for it.
I spoke with Henry on a Sunday and the next day while I was on my flight home to see him, he fell into his final coma.My sister said the last words he spoke, were asking my Mom if she was OK, that was him to a tee, worried about others before himself.

We found out that not only had his kidneys failed but most of his arteries were blocked with plaque, as well as a host of other things.He hated to be intubated and because of this he was kept sedated until a decision was made about all the machines. That was the longest three days and the shortest three days of my life.As unreal as this whole week was, one of the most surreal and nightmarish moments came when we had just eaten and were on our way home and I was just thinking about what to wear the next day, when a wall of pain washed over me, the thought came unbidden that I was picking out the outfit I would wear to watch my brother die.
It is not suppose to be this way.but it is and it was...

My brother passed peacefully surrounded by most of his family and a few close family friends. Over the next few days I discovered some things, by closing your eyes you can shut out reality ...at least for a few seconds at a time and that when people say they feel like they are about to shatter it is a real physical feeling. Both lessons I could have well lived without.

I know we will see Henry again and I am thankful that his suffering has ended. but at the end of the day it comes to this, I miss my brother.

Christmas 2008

Shh.. Did you hear that? Listen, there it was again. There off in the distance did you catch that? Listen, not with your ears but with your soul, your heart, listen with the God sized hole in your inner most being.
Now, now can you hear it? The sounds of the heavenly host getting ready to sing, to sing with joy and anticipation, anticipation at the celebration of our Lord and Savior. Celebration of when our creator made himself man and came to live as one of us? Anticipation of the miracle of the virgin birth, of God among men and anticipation of the greatest gift in the history of the universe. Celebration that the supreme being, the omniscient, omnipresent, almighty God would sacrifice himself to pay the debt for OUR sins, so we could again be in relationship with GOD our Father.
For over 2000 years this yearly remembrance has taken on many different forms and traditions for everyone except the heavenly host, the angelic choir that announced Jesus birth still sings the songs of Glory and Exultation with the same fervor and love that welcomed Christ to our world as he lay in the humble manger in the small town of Bethlehem.
The choir is warming up and almost ready to sing.Christmas Day approaches quickly and we have given ourselves a million things to do, the shopping the cooking , the wrapping and the waiting.
Oh the waiting, do you suppose the angels were gathered together in heaven as they watched Mary and Joseph go those last few miles, do you think the host nudged one another as person after person turned the expectant couple away. Was there a sigh of relief as Joseph approached the one inn keeper who would offer them shelter in his stable?
Can you imagine the excitement of the angels? They knew the Lord and Savior was about to be born to bring peace and joy to all on earth who accept him. Listen, can you hear the gathering breaths as the angels prepare to welcome the King?
Listen, can you feel the love and joy that starts in heaven at the very throne of God and passes down thru the sky to the lonely field where shepherds are keeping their watch.
Have you heard the singing, I have ,I have heard the angels singing, in the laughter of my children and in the whispering voices of my parents who are still so very much in love, I hear the angels singing as my sister shares of herself as only a true Christ follower can and I have heard the angels singing as I hear the voice of my husband as he comes thru the door at the end of the day.
This year has been one of incredible joy and indescribable pain for me and my family, and we are definitely on the busy track, but my prayer for us and for all your families is that we can all stop and listen. Not with our ears but with our hearts and souls as the heavenly choir once again sings of the birth of Christ in our terribly messy world. A world which now more than ever not only needs a Savior but also needs to recognize that we need a Savior.
May you and your family be blessed this Christmas and in the coming year, and remember if all else fails…listen….shh… just listen.