Passport to Purity -Our Special Getaway {Plus a Reader's Discount!}

When she was 11, we had the talk...you know, the birds and the bees...S-E-X.

I survived. She survived.

After discussing the science and mechanics of it all, I knew as a believer, that wasn't going to be enough. I would have to take it a step further. She needed to understand His glorious design for all the crazy things happening to her body. His beautiful purpose for sex within marriage. I knew she would have to know her worth...her value in God's eyes.

If not, this world would eat her alive.

I introduced her to the concept of purity and my desire to take her away for a weekend to discuss it in depth.

She looked at me like I had no less than 3 heads, so I told her to just let me know when she felt she might be interested in learning more...and we left it at that.

She is now 13, and recently she let me know that she was ready.



I ordered Passport 2 Purity, booked a hotel in Nashville, and spent 3 glorious days eating copious amounts of Chipotle and sour gummy worms in bed with my girl.

We hit the vending machine, and the day old lobby coffee, more times than I care to mention.

It was a total blast.

I won't go into all the details out of respect for her privacy, but I do want to share my love for this program.



I am super picky about how I approach this stuff with my kids.

I do not want them to be turned off to the truth of God's word simply because I picked a hokey method in which to do so. 

I've seen Christian curriculum, that although well meaning, I myself have a hard time reading, never mind expecting my teenagers to be able to relate. 

I'm sorry, but I just don't think, "you shouldn't have sex until you are married" is enough. In fact, the statistics prove it's not. 

Did you know that 80% of single Christians will not wait until they are married to have sex?

Let's face it...the stuff our kids are facing is tough. Brutal even. They are bombarded sexually left and right. They need to hear about the hard stuff. And they need to hear it from you, mom and dad.

I was so stinkin' impressed with Passport 2 Purity and how relevant the content was. 



The activities for each session were the highlight of the program according to my "hands-on" learner.

They were fun...but most importantly, they were applicable to what she had just learned.

I may have nearly died of embarrassment...at least twice. And I am pretty sure that when I get to heaven, I will be receiving an extra jewel in my crown.

In fact, I'm counting on it. 

But by the time we wrapped up our time together, I saw this beautiful young lady sitting next to me full of understanding, convictions {her own}, and empowered to walk this purity thing out.



What a precious time spent with my beautiful girl...laughing, crying, and talking about the really. hard. stuff. that she will face in life.



We wrapped up our weekend with a little antiquing in Historic downtown Franklin.

I raised her right.



And a purity ring.



I pray this was a weekend that she never forgets. I know I won't.

Parents:
Talk to your children about their purity. Equip them with the power of  'decisions made' before they find themselves in situations they can't handle.

Think you can't afford it? You can't afford not to.

Think you don't have time? Make time.

You won't regret it. :)

Family Life is offering a special discount to my readers. Go to their website and enter the code P2PMOMS to receive a 20% discount on all Passport 2 Purity products.

* Just a head's up. We choose not to promote "dating" {in the typical sense} in our home so when we came to the last section titled "Crossing the Date Line," I only used the things that applied to our family's goals. You can personalize this program to meet your needs if you listen ahead of time.**

 ** I did not receive compensation for my opinion or endorsement of this product. Family Life did not ask me to review this product. I believed in it so much, that I asked them if they would offer a discount to my readers and they obliged. :)






"My every mortal breath, is Grace and nothing less"

13 Things on Her 13th Birthday

Antiques are unique.
So are you.
Never try to fit in.
Stand out baby girl.



Outgrow your shoes.
Never outgrow your family.



You are loved more than all the sand in the oceans.



Laugh.
At yourself.
Often.

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Fear is a liar.
Don't listen.



Wear your retainers.
For the rest of your life child.

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Circumstances will not always be a choice.
Joy will.



Never be too old to be a kid.



You have tremendous value and worth.
Neither of those can be determined by this world.



You...



are so stinkin....



...talented!
Be confident in them all!

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There are no limits to what you can do through Christ.
When the world tells you there is no way,
Hold tight to Jesus.
He will make one.



You are beautiful.
You are perfect.
You are enough.
Period.

**And one to grown on....

Don't be a people pleaser.
Like never.
Ever.
It's exhausting.
Please God.
It's all that matters in the end.

Happy 13th Birthday sweet girl!

Because Mine Is a Heart That Needs To Be Reminded...Emmanuel Has Come. {Processing Sandy Hook}

I had just hit "publish" on my InstaFriday post.
Had just noticed that the header on my blog was missing.
Spent a good hour trying to fix it.
Was about to write up a post explaining this to my readers because "first impressions are everything"....at least the folks that know what makes a blog a good blog say so.

Then it happened.
"A school shooting had occurred in Connecticut...One teacher shot in the foot."
I remember that my initial thought was that a young child had brought a gun to school and injured a teacher with it.
What a shame I thought.


Busy morning running errands.
In and out of stores.
Finally, a chance to check my facebook.
I sat there in my car, in the parking lot of Dollar Tree, sobbing as I read accounts of the terror that had unfolded in a small elementary school in Connecticut.
My momma heart crumbling.
Breath clutched tight in my chest.
How I wished my initial assumptions had been true.
Just a kid, just a teacher...just a foot.
How grossly wrong those first account reports had been.
How worried I had been about a missing blog header.
Impressing you the reader.

Just like all of us, I have tried so hard to make sense of what has happened.
Sort through the oxygen robbing emotions I have felt.
Fear.
Confusion.
Grief.
Why?
Nausea.
Anxiety.
Anger.
Heartbreak.
Anger.
Fear.
Heartbreak.

Like a tide.
They roll in.
Back out.
In again.

Finally, in an attempt to process some of what was whirling around in my head, I posted this on Facebook:

"I feel traumatized if I allow myself to hear/think about it. I feel guilty if I try not to. I feel sick with every post/newscast I see about it. I feel angry at every thing I see that ISN'T about it. I feel crazy for crying all day. I feel guilty for laughing knowing what so many moms and dads are enduring in the moment. I feel full of grief when I think of what those parents must face today as they realize this is still their reality. I feel full of guilt for grieving a child that isn't even mine. What gives me the right when mine are breathing right next to me?? I feel like I should pray...but then cannot find the words. Then I realize that my own faith is lacking because if I were these parents I would not want to hear about "God's plans for me"...Yes, I just said that. Just feeling the need to be real. He already knows my many struggles/shortcomings. He alone has the answers...I just try in vain to find them this side of heaven. I really don't expect this to make sense. I just needed to purge this stuff out of my head. Writing helps."

Oh me of little faith.
He must get so tired of me doubting Him.
Still...I have to be honest before Him.
Light can only pierce through an object that is transparent.
I need His light.

Besides...

The God that carried the cross of the world can handle my brutally honest ramblings on Facebook.
My lack of faith in Him.
My doubting Him.
He can.

How do I process this Lord?
Am I really ever supposed to?
Should this ever be something I can wrap my mind around?

He answered,
Reminded me.
Leave it to Ann Voskamp. (You must read this)
That even when I cannot wrap my  mind around something of this world...
I can wrap my hope up in the Christ of eternity.

That "A snake’s neurology and blood flow make it such that it slithers wild even after it’s been sliced headless."

That "A snake can wreak havoc until it accepts it has no head — that it’s really dead."

That "Even if the tail still rampages, the snake’s head is crushed."

He is good.
He is victorious.
He is faithful.
He is trustworthy.
He is in control.
He is sovereign.
He is Lord.
He is here.
Emmanuel...God has come.

"He came – and He cups us in our aloneness and our agony, in our weeping and our wondering, in our howl, “My God, my God, why has thou forsaken us?” – and He whispers, I am Emmanuel, God who is with you." -Ann

I am a soul that constantly needs to be reminded.
Because mine is a heart that shamefully needs to be told over and over again.
Because mine is a mind that wrestles with fears and doubts and trusting God.
Headless serpent thrashes.
Trauma clutches.
Fear paralyzes.
Thoughts cripple.
Momma hearts bleed.
I need to be reminded.

He has come and we are not forsaken.
Today.
Everyday.
I need to be reminded.

Because Sometimes Real Life Comes Before Blogging

Sometimes life...real life...needs me more.

Sometimes the ever changing needs and seasons of children growing up requires more time...more attention.

Sometimes God opens new doors and brings new opportunities...and they need more time...more attention.

And in the chaos of trying to be everything to everyone...I only manage to feel like I am failing at all of it.

In July I felt God asking me to lay down my blog for a while.

Ouch.

I needed to be reminded.

I blog because moment by moment, memories are being made...and I want to remember...not be remembered.

I blog because I want to capture every moment I am given with my children...not capture an audience. {If I do...I am truly grateful...but not the goal}

I blog because clocks tick without permission, memories scramble in my mind with age, their faces change, their voices change, they grow taller and taller and I cannot stop any of it...only purge every detail here while I still remember.

I blog because every now and again, He gives me something to say...and I am to be obedient in sharing.

I see things like "stats" and "hits" growing...

My inbox fills with offers to write and promote and join...and I am tempted to please the masses...

Maybe I should this...or maybe I should that...I could do this to draw more...or I could start doing that to make my blog more....

Please do not get me wrong or take anything I am saying out of context.
I am so grateful for every momma blogger out there that is able to consistently blog or make a career out of blogging.
I have formed some of the most precious, genuine friendships through the community of bloggers.
My life is all the better because of their willingness to share their wisdom and engage with their readers.
Not to mention my decor.

But so often I have to be reminded...this is not what He has asked of me in this season of my life.

It is not the calling He has placed on me.

It is not to be my focus.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tonight...my house is in order...His blessing is on this...it is time.

So forgive me as I break the golden rules of blogging...1) apologizing for being absent so long 2) sharing way too many pictures. 3) writing more than a couple of paragraphs 4) confessing how much I have missed sharing my mindless ramblings with you all. :)

This.....this is why...in this season of my life....I blog.....

Because there are moments I catch a glimpse of my daughter's faith...and it takes my breath away.



Because my youngest child turned double digits...and requests cupcakes and orange juice for breakfast...and I oblige because he is my baby. Poor kid...he doesn't have a clue that I'm never gonna let him leave.



Because even though he's double digits...he still falls asleep in my lap...and I never want to move.



Because my four legged child likes to lay on the air vents...and take them with him. We call this Bo's bling.



Because we make a summer list...and check things off.



Because even at 36 you're not too old to wear braces...again.



Because this exact view has been a yearly tradition for the past 9 years.



Because the kids are older now...and we get to sip our coffee on the beach at sunrise...alone.



Because sometimes...if I'm lucky...a seagull flies into my frame...at just the right time.



Because there is never a dull moment with these three.



Because hot cocoa at The Donut Hole is also tradition.



Because having a teenager means having date night at the beach. ::please refrain from all metal mouth jokes::



Because sometimes they aren't looking...and I catch them...having fun...together.



Because I catch my 12 year old daughter reading Kisses From Katie...for the second time...and I feel terrified/excited/happy/humbled/inspired/terrified...all at the same time.



Because I find a picture of said 12 year old on Instagram and the air is sucked from my chest because I see the stunning young woman she is becoming.



Because she paints things like this...and I think...how on earth did such a talented, passionate, artistic, being ever come from my DNA???



Because we are homeschooling through high school...and Advanced Biology is a beast.



Because my 16 year old gets to do cool things like cadaver labs {yes, real cadavers} at Lipscomb University...followed by lunch dates with mom at Chipotle.



Because at 36 I've not only decided to correct what my 12 year old non-retainer wearing self did to 3 years of orthodontia...but I've also decided to radically change the way we eat in our home.



Because a new way of eating means a new kind of date night. Healthy is sexy.



Because 7th grade leaf collections lead to roaming the lake with my kiddos...at sunset.



Because a spontaneous trip to the flea market leads to super duper cheap vintage finds.



Because summer fades...and gives way to fall...and that means camping on the lake. And pumpkin butter.



Because fall is not complete without our annual LCA {homeschool tutorial} camping trip.



Because some friendships started in the 2nd grade...and are still going strong.



Because every fall we take part in the Junior Docent program at The Hermitage...home of President Andrew Jackson.
Because he is the only kid I have left that does not think he is too cool.



Because every now and then...I get lucky enough to capture a moment like this.
Tyler and his sheepish grin.
Maggie and her infectious smile.
And Aidan...my one of a kind Aidan... being one of a kind Aidan.

Because one day...they will be grown and gone {I will have no choice but to get a lap dog}...and this is all I will have left.

This is why I blog.

Remind me.






"My every mortal breath, is Grace and nothing less"

I Surrender All {That Time My Teenager Flew to Another Continent to Love the Orphan and Changed My Life Forever.}

I can't remember a time in my life when I did not know of God.
My grandparents taught me at an early age that God was good and that Jesus loved me.
I knew all the Bible stories and sang all the songs.

"But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners."

At 15 I would fumble my way to an altar and profess Jesus as my Savior.
I needed one that is for sure.
I desperately wanted what He had to offer me.
But I still did not get it.
In fact the only thing that changed I think was the guilty feeling that accompanied my actions.
I was His.
But dysfunction and rebellion ran deep.

"But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness."

At 22 I would be face down on the floor of my bedroom.
Broken.
Betrayed.
Drowning in tears, snot, and hurt.
Crying out to the same Savior I had stiff-armed for 7 years.
Facing divorce.
Unable to breathe.
He would meet me there...right there...at my lowest point...snot and all.
He would steal my heart.
I would be His.
Completely.
Or so I thought.

 “If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them gets lost, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others in the wilderness and go to search for the one that is lost until he finds it? And when he has found it, he will joyfully carry it home on his shoulders.  When he arrives, he will call together his friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep. '

At 30 I would attend a Steven Curtis Chapman concert. {don't do it people!}
He would walk on stage with his only days home from China adopted daughter Maria.
My eyes would be opened to the staggering statistics of the orphan.
My heart would be pricked.
A seed would be planted.

"Once our eyes are opened, we can't pretend we don't know what to do. God, who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls, knows what we know, and holds us responsible to act."

At 33 an earthquake would ravish a small island.
My husband would go there.
The orphan would become personal.
The orphan would be held by my husband.
Like my very own children.
I would ache to hold them.
I would see my children in their faces.
The American Dream would become less and less glamorous.
Things would change in our home.
There would be a new normal.
I would begin to share my heart and passion with my children.
Making them aware.
Giving together.
Seeking out those in need.
Praying together.
Going out of our way to show love.
Hurting together.

"So also faith, if it does not have works (deeds and actions of obedience to back it up), by itself is destitute of power (inoperative, dead)." -James 2:17

At 36 I would watch my sixteen year old son respond to God's call on his life.
Missions.
It would be radical.
It would be beautiful.
It would suck the very breath from my chest.
Tears would flood my face in the ugliest of ways.
I would hear my Jesus whisper into my soul, "You have to be willing to let him go."
Tyler wasn't the only one about to go on a journey.

"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere—in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, 
and to the ends of the earth.”

Fear would grip my entire being.
Leaving me breathless under the weight of "what ifs".
Airplanes.
Disease.
The unknown.
Sweaty hands would grip tighter and tighter for control.
"Don't ask this of me God. It's more than my momma heart can bear."
I would begin to think of a million reasons why it would not be a good idea.
Excuse after excuse.
I would see myself for what I really am.
What I've been all along.
A fraud.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline."

Professing and singing of a God that is Holy and Sovereign.
Mighty to save.
Living my life like He is less than worthy of my allegiance to Him.
Not to be trusted.
Unfaithful.
Weak.

All these years I've been running on faithless faith.
Under the influence of a false sense of control.
Talking a talk.
Not walking the walk.
Serving the Creator of the Universe on my terms.
Believing in God.
Too afraid to believe Him.
His promises.
Had He not proven Himself over and over in my life?
Had He not been there all along?
Unable to trust Him with the very things He Himself had entrusted me with.
My children.
His all along.
Just borrowed.
Never mine to keep.

"I know you inside and out, and find little to my liking. You're not cold, you're not hot—far better to be either cold or hot! You're stale. You're stagnant. You make me want to vomit."

At 36 my faith is being more than stretched.
More than tested.
It is being redefined.
Refined.
He wants all of me.
Not just the neat tidy package labeled "Christian" or "Believer."
The dirty,rotten, smelly garbage bag that is me.
Labeled "Full of fear" and "I don't really trust God."

He wants His grace to be sufficient.
His power to be seen in my weakness.
Hearts broken for the poor.
The orphan.
The widow.
The unborn.
The lost.
He wants yes Lord!
Here I am.
Send me.
My children.
I trust my every single next moment to You alone.
Regardless.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord.

Today my firstborn {and my husband} will walk away.
Towards a gate.
Towards God's plans for his life.
Passport in hand.
Eager.
Excited.
And I will watch him go.

He is ready.

And willing.

“But blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their hope and confidence."

Today I will walk away too.
From fear that cripples.

Paralyzes.Renders ineffective.
Towards raw, authentic faith.
Faith that trusts.
Entrusts.
Faith that moves.

At 36 I get it.
And He gets all of me.
Finally.
The whole ugly thing.
I surrender all.

Thank you Tyler.
You saved me from myself at 19 and today your very own personal faith in Christ has challenged me and blessed me to the innermost part of my soul.
Saving me from myself once again.
Revealing to me a truth that has been there all along.
Never once changed.
He is so worthy of my trust.
Worthy of hands letting go.
Worthy of feet stepping out.
I am in awe of the man of God you are becoming.
You are strong.
You have a heart to please God.
You are willing.
You are chosen.
#YOLO :-)


"And a child shall lead them."





"I look up to the mountains—does my help come from there? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth! He will not let you stumble; the one who watches over you will not slumber. Indeed, he who watches over Israel never slumbers or sleeps. The LORD himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade. The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon at night. The LORD keeps you from all harm and watches over your life.The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever."

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Here is a video of a trip our church took in 2010.
Tyler and Adam will be experiencing all of this.
The Bolivian Hope Center was founded by Rich and Sandee Farthing after discovering that in Bolivia, children must live in prison with their mother.
Sleep on concrete floors.
Eat maybe 2-3 meals a week.
Now these children have a home and a hope.
So honored that my family gets to play a small part in that.

Prayers for safe travels and a parasite free journey would be much appreciated. :-)






 
















"My every mortal breath, is Grace and nothing less"