Movie Mishap and God’s Goodness

Good morning to all of you sweet moms who made it through spring break! If you followed me any last week, you knew I was in "grandma-mom" mode for the week as my out-of-town grandkids were in-town for spring break. My in-town grandkids were not on spring break which made for an exciting week of trying to connect all the cousins for amble time of playing four square, dress up, ping-pong, trampoline, fishing, Ninja (new game, ask your kids) and catching the latest kid movies. All of the previously mentioned activities make up the fun part of grandma mode. The other part I call the "grandma-mom mode" is made up of separating fighting kids, reinforcing the need to say please, thank you, yes sir and no sir, emphasizing the importance of sharing, inspecting for clean teeth and hair, and FEEDING them. UGH! I am so not the cook. I've tried for years to get the world on a different schedule of eating—like maybe once a day, but so far no one has bought into my plan. So, last week I had to stick to the popular three times a day food plan that apparently my kids have their children on. J I do wonder if that's how God designed us or did the whole Eve and apple event mess things up for us moms. I'm not sure about the eating schedule, but I do know if Eve had not eaten the forbidden fruit, people would probably be snacking all day on the delicious fruits and vegetables growing all around them. Eve did not have to fire up the stove, prepare, cook, and then wash dishes three times a day. (Okay, I don't really fire up the stove.) Nope, it would have been every man and child for himself, just snacking on the land. "Mom, I'm hungry," a child might say. "Sweetie, just run out in the back yard. I saw where God was growing the nicest oranges and broccoli spears." What a pleasant thought! Oh well, I'm really not complaining. I am grateful for a pantry full of food. I'm just saying…. wouldn't it be nice?

In the mist of all the fun last week (actually it was on the first day of the fun), my wallet was stolen. It was such a shock and very alarming to look in my purse and discover it missing. I had the usual few minutes of thinking I had just misplaced it in the house, but after retracing my steps I knew it had been stolen. Okay, misplaced first and then stolen. I had taken fourteen kids to the movie which involved several openings and closings of my purse. Apparently my wallet did not make it back in my purse on one of those visits. I discovered the "lost" wallet after we returned to the house. We called the police and were told that if the credit cards were not used in a day's time that would mean the thief had taken the cash and tossed the rest in the garbage somewhere, never to be found. Sure enough, after one day, none of my cards had been used. I am grateful for that, but it sure has been a hassle canceling cards and getting a new driver's license, Sam's card, Insurance cards and credit cards. Other wallet-type things like business cards, grandkid's school photos, one taco soup recipe, a hidden tube of lipstick and mirror, that piece of paper with three phone numbers of tennis players on it, and coins from England are also gone, never to be replaced.

As soon as I was certain the wallet would not be recovered the first order of business was to get a new driver's license. Of course I needed something to put it in so I purchased a new wallet and headed to the license bureau. It was a very simple process, I'm pleased to announce. They just pulled me up on the screen, took a new picture (which the grandkids say is better than the last one), took my $31.00, and handed me a new license. I was good to go. Next, I needed money. With no credit cards and no ATM card, I had to go old-school. I headed to a bank where someone knew me and went inside to cash a check. Now, I had one new wallet, empty except for one driver's license and some cash.

Through this whole process I was reminded of this verse in Matthew 6: "Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being."

I hope my grandkids saw me NOT hoarding my earthly treasures; instead working hard that my attitude and actions are God-honoring and Christ-reflecting. Having my wallet stolen was an inconvenience for sure, but dealing with it reinforced a few fruits of the spirits like patience, kindness, and self-control. These opportunities for spiritual growth are seldom welcomed, but definitely help plant our feet and our hearts where they need to be.

For this week, every time you take out your wallet, thank God for a different material blessing you have and pray for those less fortunate than you are. We live in a blessed nation where most of us have a roof over our heads and food on our tables, but are also in tough times economically and many are being challenged to live more fugally. As you put your wallet away, thank God for the spiritual blessings you have.

We serve a God who loves us and has promised to care for us. You may have an empty earthly wallet, but your forever wallet is stuffed so full of blessings it's overflowing.

Have a blessed week.

Hugs,

Chrys

Unexpected Challenges

Today's blog will be short and sweet, so all you non-readers will get a break. Besides being out of town last week, I have my three out-of-town precious grandchildren in for this whole week. I'll just confess right up front that I intend to play some this week. So, much of my work just might have to slide a few days. I hope you will understand.

Last week I attended a speaker's seminar in Portland, Oregon. The seminar founder and facilitator is Carol Kent. She is an amazing woman who loves the Lord and loves helping women in all types of ministries be better equipped to share God's word. She will also be our keynote speaker at this year's Mom Thing Conference in August. Let me just say, YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS THIS! She is over the top fabulous. When you get a chance, Google her and you will get a tiny bit of Carol's story, plus you'll see her dynamic personality jump off the computer screen right into your living room. Well, not really. I haven't discovered some new technology where people's personalities ACTUALLY jump into your house; I'm just super impressed with Carol and want you get the picture. Check her out. If you feel called to work on your speaking ministry, this is the perfect event for you. It's called Speak Up with Confidence. Trust me when I tell you, "shy beyond your wildest dreams" does not come close to describing my true personality. But, with God's constant help and reassurance, I have learned to be confident in Him. Take a look at Speak Up with Confidence—it's awesome!

We left Portland at 6:00 AM on Saturday, which means we had to be at the airport at 5:00 AM, which means we had to get up at 4:00 AM…so it was a long day of flying. That was expected. We knew we would have to pay $25.00 per bag as the new "we're not very accommodating" airplane guidelines dictate. That was expected. What was unexpected was an extra charge of $200.00 when one of our bags was WAY overweight. And what was unexpected was our now super expensive luggage did not make it on our plane. Apparently for the extra money, our luggage got to pick a later flight. Perhaps it wanted to sleep in. J Apparently, even with the equivalent of buying our luggage its own ticket, the airlines could get it on the plane we were flying on.

Expected, expected, unexpected. Expected, expected, unexpected. Expected, expected, Unexpected! Does that describe your life? It does mine. Here's some ancient advice that holds true today:

"If I were in your shoes, I'd go straight to God, I'd throw myself on the mercy of God. After all, he's famous for great and unexpected acts; there's no end to his surprises. He gives rain, for instance, across the wide earth, sends water to irrigate the fields. He raises up the down-and-out, gives firm footing to those sinking in grief. He aborts the schemes of conniving crooks, so that none of their plots come to term. He catches the know-it-alls in their conspiracies— all that intricate intrigue swept out with the trash! Suddenly they're disoriented, plunged into darkness; they can't see to put one foot in front of the other. But the downtrodden are saved by God, saved from the murderous plots, saved from the iron fist. And so the poor continue to hope, while injustice is bound and gagged."

That was found in Job 5. Poor Job certainly faced the unexpected and his unexpected events make my lost luggage seem like a day at Disneyworld.

As a busy mom, I know you're days are filled with the unexpected. Perhaps your child is sick and you desperately needed to go to work today. Perhaps the washing machine broke or the commode is stopped up. Perhaps the car wouldn't start this morning and there's no money to get is fixed.

Take the advice Job was given, GO STRAIGHT TO GOD. He's famous for great and unexpected acts of kindness and mercy.

I hope you have a very "expected" week, with no surprises except those God sends your way.

Hugs, Chrys

God and Today’s World

The question for sociologists today is whether or not all this new technology is making us more connected or less connected. Personally, I can make a case either way. While my husband and I spent a few months overseas this past fall, we lived for nighttime when we could Skype our grandkids. If you have never used Skype (sounds like a big monkey, doesn't it?), it's something right out of the future world we might have seen or read about as children. It's the latest technology that allows you to speak and SEE the person you are talking to. I know, for us boomers this is future-world stuff for sure! For you young ones, it's a way of life. Anyway, it works through a video camera that is either pre-installed in or added to your computer so it's really simple. In fact, I'm wondering what took them so long to figure this out! It's the best! Our grandchildren can now tell us stories of their day and we get to see the expressions on their faces, ask them to turn a cartwheel and then LOOK at report cards. It's just like we're sitting in the room with them. (The bonus: you can turn it off when the kids get a little wild. Just joking! We would never do that!)

But, here's the other side of the argument. I Skyped (now it sounds like something sinister—oh well) my grandkids who live out of town the other day and their dad answered my call. I talked to him for about five minutes when I noticed him texting at the same time. He smiled and put his attention back on me and said, "That was Maddox. (You can see our little cutie in the photo above.) He wants me to get him some milk." Of course I said, "Where is he?" The shocking reply was, "In his bedroom." This might be a case against technology. On so many levels, this just isn't right. Yes, I have been to their house on many occasions and, it's true, Maddox's bedroom is up the stairs, but, good grief, whatever happened to walking down the stairs and asking your dad for a glass of milk!!! Okay, it's true confession time. I have been known to call my husband's cell phone when we are on opposite sides of our house when I was TOTALLY desperate for a quick answer to something. Only on rare occasions, mind you. J

So, I've tried to analyze this and not blow the whole thing out of proportion as I don't want to stop the wheels of progress. I remember moving into a new house when I was in junior high that had a new invention called an intercom system. Oh, how spoiled we would become! No more walking from one room to the next just to talk to someone. Now, we could just push a button and tell our brothers to come clean their room up or ask our sister if we could borrow her blue sweater or see if mom had supper almost ready. New technology! What would become of us? I remember my parents' warnings to not play with the intercom system, like it might self-destruct if it heard us acting silly instead of being serious with it.

I guess with each new invention, our social norms are threatened and we are challenged to adjust to a new kind of normal. Whether it's an intercom system, a television set, a computer, or an IPhone, it's up to us as humans to control our time and its usage. Are we better off with Skype and IPhones? It depends. Have they inhibited our human connection or enhanced it? It depends. Remember behind every piece of technology is a voice and that voice is YOU. Texting a scripture to your teenage may make a difference in his or her day. Using search engines like Google to find scriptures and commentaries on Biblical thoughts can bring incredible depth to your personal Bible study. Downloading Christian music with Godly messages on your IPOD may be just the voice you need in your ear when facing a difficult day.

God isn't surprised when a new device is on the
market. In fact, our God, who sees all and knows all, is aware of the next new thing even before Bill Gates is. What makes Him rejoice and the angels sing is when we use everything at our disposal to bring Him glory. In the Message, Hebrews 13:16 says "Make sure you don't take things for granted and go slack in working for the common good; share what you have with others. God takes particular pleasure in acts of worship—a different kind of "sacrifice"—that place in kitchens and workplaces and on the streets."

God rejoices when communication of all kinds includes Him and His message. Take a few minutes this week to put one of your many modern devices to Godly use. Never doubt that is God right here with us in the 21^st century.

Hugs, Chrys

A Painful Reminder

"Ouch!" I cried out as the hard, cold leg of the iron chair in my kitchen crushed my toe. Like all busy moms, I was hurrying to answer the phone, thinking whoever was calling me couldn't wait one more second. Apparently, my "fourth from the big toe" toe wasn't in as big of a hurry as the rest of my body because "she" decided to hang on to the leg of the iron chair in my kitchen. Iron, as you know, does not bend; it does not break. Toes, on the other hand, do. It has been a number of years since this incident occurred, but I can look at that particular toe, which continues to be as crooked as a country road, and go back to that pain at any given moment. It truly was that bad. In fact, I had a houseful of company at the time and everyone agreed that I was very brave. As we examined it, each declared they would have screamed and probably cried. We all stared in horror and watched the toe swell and turn an unflattering shade of purple. I've never been much of a crier, so I thought my loud "ouch" was sufficient for one broken toe. After all, it was just one toe. The other toes seemed unaffected.

One broken toe, I thought wouldn't be too bad. I would have nine healthy toes to get me through carpooling and tennis playing and house cleaning and errand running. But, later that night as I hobbled around the house, I noticed something very strange. Two of my other toes, namely toe two and three, were also turning a nasty shade of purple, as well as the top of my foot. Odd, I thought, one toe was battered but those close enough to touch it also showed signs of distress. I did a few household chores and then decided maybe I should stay off my foot for the rest of the night. Later that night, when I got into bed I noticed that the sheer weight of the covers hurt my entire foot and I slept that night with my foot cold rather than in agony. I went to sleep hopeful that all would be better in the morning.

The next morning my foot did feel better when I first woke up and I had great hopes for the day. But, my expectations were short lived as I placed my foot on the floor and discovered that any weight placed on it resulted in a small whimpering sound made by me. So I did what most people do in this situation, I started limping. Limping is never attractive, it's just necessary to keep from making those awful whimpering sounds. By the time I left for work, I had the limp thing down and I continued through the day, up and down stairs, going to the copy machine, attending kid's ballgames, driving, running errands, etc.

That night when I went to bed, I not only had a very sore, broken fourth toe, two other very sore purple toe's, a swollen left foot, I also had developed pain in my right hip and left calf from the excessive limping. My poor right hip and left calf had now been pulled into the drama as I had been called to redistribute my body weight in an effort to relieve the weight on ONE toe.

Three days into my ordeal, my entire body hurt as it strained to help the one little part of my body that was truly damaged. I was reminded of this: "If one part of the body suffers, all the other parts suffer with it." That is a passage found in I Corinthians 11 where Paul was called to teach a lesson about working together and understanding the importance of each person. Paul uses the analogy of our bodies because he knew we could understand and relate to it. From our earliest memories we learn our body parts, don't we? "Where's your eyes?" "Where's your nose?" are phrases someone said to us and then we did the same thing to our children. After we got that concept down, we quickly figured out that we don't want to give any of our body parts up. All of our body parts have a job and are important. We warn our children not to jump from the top of the slide because they might break their legs. We buckle our kids up in the car and when questioned why, we answer "So you don't get hurt." Paul knew we could easily grasp this analogy as we are wired to take care of our bodies—every single part of them. As I limped my way around my little world for several weeks, I was painfully reminded of the truth in Paul's powerful lesson. Even one small toe is vitally important. When that small toe was damaged, the rest of my body quickly regrouped like an army ready to fight and worked to protect the part that was injured, even to the detriment of itself. When I thought of how "giving" my body was, it made me proud (sore, but proud).

Each of you has talents and gifts unique to only YOU! God has blessed you and you are a blessing to others because of those gifts. What you do for your family, your church family, your work place, your neighborhood is unique to YOU. You are valuable! When you hurt, others hurt with you. When you rejoice, others rejoice with you. If you find that you are not functioning like you want to be, please know that those who love you are ready to help you. Don't be afraid to reach out for help. On the other hand, stand ready to help others. We are all busy. Each day brings a new "to do" list so we have to listen for the small whimpering "ouch" that may be coming from a mom in need. Being able to empathize with others when they hurt is truly a trait of a mature Christian. Billy Graham once said that real happiness comes from learning the value of sharing in other's sorrow, distress, and misfortune.

Have a blessed week, knowing you do not stand alone and are valued and loved by God.

Hugs, Chrys

No Fear

It was around 9:30 that night. The house was quiet as all the grandkids were safely in their own homes. I was working in my home office when I felt a "presence." Before you think I've gone crazy, the "presence" wasn't anything spooky; it was my fourteen year old grandson, John Luke. While his presence wasn't spooky, he did look rather wide eyed and rough. At first this didn't alarm me as he often runs barefoot around the neighborhood visiting us or other relatives…but still, a visit this late and the look on his face made my "grandma" antennas perk up. First, I reached up and gave him a big hug (never pass up that opportunity!) and then I asked, "What's up?" As much as I wanted to think he just wanted to see me, I sensed there was more to this story.

With even wider eyes, he began to tell me that he was home alone when their tiny dog started barking and growling downstairs. Being upstairs… in his bedroom… alone… scared him. Apparently the more the little dog barked, the more frightened John Luke got. He quickly accessed the situation and found his only solution to be to climb out the bedroom window (let me remind you, upstairs bedroom), jump from the roof, and run next door to our house for safety. Trying not to be too panicky---teenage boys hate that---I resisted the urge to give him a list of other SAFER scenarios, like using the cell phone that is permanently attached to him to call us! Wisely, I would save that advice for later.

Doing what all grandmothers should do, I then suggested we wake up grandpa to help us find the supposed intruder. Reluctantly, 2 Papa got out of bed and off we went. When we opened the door, we found Max, the dog, enjoying his time alone in the house, running from room to room. Still, the search was on. We carefully checked each room, turning on the lights and looking behind the clothes in the closets. We searched under the beds and in the showers. We pulled back bedspreads and picked up furniture. Let me just say, the folks on CSI would have been proud of our efforts. But, this was our baby—fourteen is still a baby, isn't it? Okay, not really, but we were not going to leave him alone again until we were sure he was safe. No way!

I can remember many incidences in my childhood when I was scared and the only person who could reassure me that all was well was my daddy. I can remember tiptoeing into my parent's room late into the night to hear my dad's soothing voice say, "Nothing is going to hurt you. I'm right here. You're safe."

As we get older and have children of our own, WE become the soothing voice. Does that mean we don't get frightened anymore? Do children of our own take away our need for a comforting parent? Does age bring complete freedom from fear? I wish all of this were true. But, the reality is, the older we get, the list of "things" that can frighten us gets longer and scarier. Oh, to be four again where our fears came from a scary episode of Scooby Doo. Now our list includes sick children, job security, financial burdens, aging parents, wayward children…the list seems endless. We long to tiptoe in our daddy's room for words of comfort.

I love the words of the Psalmist in Psalms 56:1. He spoke about his Father this way, "Take my side, God—I'm getting kicked around, stomped on every day. Not a day goes by but somebody beats me up; They make it their duty to beat me up. When I get really afraid I come to you in trust. I'm proud to praise God; fearless now, I trust in God. What can mere mortals do?"

These words are not just words of yesteryear, they are still active and alive for us today. God is as ready as any mom, dad, grandpa, or grandma to run to your side and search out all the bad, scary things in your life and stand beside you until you are no longer afraid. So, the next time the dog barks and growls, know that God is right beside you and know that mere mortals cannot touch what God protects.

Have a great week.

Hugs, Chrys

Broken Tooth, Broken Heart

Happy Presidents Day! Curiosity got the best of me, so I did a little research on Presidents Day, which by the way, can be written either as I have done or as President's or Presidents'. Presidents Day actually began in 1880 as Washington's Day to celebrate George Washington's birthday on February 22.^. But, in 1971, the holiday was moved to the third Monday in February by the Uniform Monday Holiday Act. Some of you young moms don't even know there was such a thing as the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, right? I do remember it. It was designed to put all holiday celebrations on Monday giving us, and particularly, government offices, three day weekends. Cool, huh? Well, the date changed in 1971, it wasn't until the mid 80's that the title, Presidents Day, began to stick as a result of advertisers such as car dealerships and furniture stores. The power of shopping seems to have won the battle that began for the name change as far back as 1951 through traditional channels of legislation. All of this has nothing to do with the blog today, just some interesting facts. Now to the blog!

I don't think this can be proven scientifically, but I believe the odds of winning the lottery are better than the odds of keeping grandkids for a week and all of them staying well. Recently, our oldest daughter, Korie, had to be out of town, leaving her four kids in our care. This isn't new to us. We keep them a few times a year while Korie and her husband travel for their business, so I'm no stranger to wheezing, strep throat, flu and an assortment of bumps and bruises. BUT, this time the kids were having a good week. A great week. No fever, no sore throat, no coughing to keep us up all night, not even a runny nose. Life had been good.

The last night, the night before the parents were to return, I sent the kids off to shower or bathe, an innocent enough activity, one would think. After all, the youngest is now seven, the oldest fourteen. We're way past my having to monitor the whole bathing process. I relaxed in the kitchen, talking to a friend, silently patting myself on the back for such a smooth week. When out of nowhere, I heard the most blood curdling scream (whatever blood curdling is) from the hall bathroom. Running with the speed of an aging Olympian wanna-be, I hurdled the living room chair and threw open the door to the bathroom. Will, the eight year old, was standing outside the shower holding a towel to his mouth. Now, as a former child myself, former mom of young kids, former camp director, AND former school teacher, I know that when a kid holds a towel to his mouth, and is screaming, what's under there isn't going to be pretty. My first order of business was to calm Will and then to access the damage.

I quickly noticed there was no blood on the towel—good sign—but it was clear Will was in considerable pain, so something bad had happened. With some soft talking and calm reassurance, I was finally able to get Will to release his death-grip on the towel and let me take a look at the damage. Sure enough, the bad news was Will's permanent front tooth was now half its former self. The good news -- a fairly bad slip in shower didn't do more damage than a chipped tooth. I helped Will dry off and put on some pajamas, and then I guided him to the couch. Of course, all the while I'm asking him, "What happened?" It's always a mom's job to find out exactly how a kid damaged themselves, right? For some reason we think it will help if we know how it happened. Oh, well! Next, I got an ice pack and some Tylenol to give him some relief from the pain and turned on his favorite TV show. Soon, he went on to sleep with no trouble. The next morning, he didn't complain one time, but as I gave him his breakfast, I noticed he took small bites and to the side of this mouth. I hurt for him. The accident was over, but the pain, and even disfigurement, was still there.

Do you think God winces as He watches us struggle to recover following the heartaches, painful situations, and tragedies in our life? I know he does. Just as we, as parents and grandparents, hurt for our children, He hurts for us. More than that, He understands our losses and grief, our pain and brokenness, because He has been there too. Isaiah 43 tells us this, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God." How comforting it is to know that we are not alone in our pain.

God, our father, is not sitting in His living room, patting Himself on the back for a job well done. No, He is carefully watching every move we make, ready to leap over the couch to our rescue. He doesn't even hound us with "What happened?" He just quietly offers us His loving ice pack to ease our pain—no questions asked.

As for Will's tooth, the pain has subsided, but the tooth is still half its normal size. We still haven't made it to the dentist who has the technology to make it whole again. You can bet that God is capable of making your broken heart whole again. It may take some time, but it can be done. If you're hurting over events that have happened in your life, whether out of your decisions or the decisions of others, ask God to help you heal from those hurts. He is sitting on ready to help you!

Have a great week. Give someone you love a big hug today!

Hugs, Chrys

Listen to the Music

We are just a week away from the winter Olympics. WOO HOO! As an "athlete wanna-be" I'm always glued to as much of the winter and summer Olympics as my schedule allows. We've even had the opportunity to attend the Olympics a few times and it is an awesome experience. I'm sure you're like me and can't believe it's been four years already! How does that happen? Time sure does fly.

As I look forward to seeing the new athletes and cheering them on, I have one vivid memory from the previous Olympics I want to share with you. It is the story of Zhang Dan. You may not remember Zhang Dan's name, but, with some prompting, you may remember the event. At the time I called it the "thud heard around the world," which I'll explain in a minute. Here's what happened. The very graceful and extremely athletic Chinese pair skating team, unrelated, but both named Zhang, had a misstep and Zhang Dan, the woman skater, took a hard fall. Their mission had been to land a never-before-landed quadruple Salchow. Now, for the Salchow to work, one partner throws another to achieve maximize speed and height. That part is scary enough, but, that's not all. My trusty friend, Google, tells me that a Salchow involves a jump with a takeoff from a back inside edge of the skate while landing on the back outside edge of the opposite foot after turning a few rotations in the air. I'm exhausted just reading the description! Remember, this Solchow as a quadruple. In other words---FOUR turns in the air. Crazy, right? This is athletic ability beyond my imagination. Right now, I'm doing good to master the moves in a simple country line dance where my feet might leave the ground for two inches and not at the same time.

Back to the story. You could almost hear a collective, worldwide gasp as both of Zhang Dan's knees hit the ice with a resounding thud. But, the thud wasn't the end of the agony. This beautiful skater continued to spin across the ice stopping only when she barreled into the retaining wall. The cameras shot to her teammates, who stood with their hands over their mouths and their eyes filling with tears; then to the crowd of Olympic fans, each staring in horror. In homes around the world, millions of viewers, like me, watched from our living rooms, too shocked to speak.

But the real story was still to come. Zhang Dan skated to the side as she rubbed her knees and cried. Her partner was right beside her, comforting her and holding her up. Everyone assumed they were finished; their Olympic dream over. But, after only five minutes, as if by some pre-determined cue the pair proudly skated out to resume their routine at the precise moment the fall had interrupted it. That, my friends, is the Olympic spirit.

Most of us will never have an experience exactly like Zhang Dan's was but all of us will know what it feels like to hit the ground hard and spin out of control. As a busy mom, you wake up every day praying that you can keep upright on your mommy-skates and land the day with minimum success. You're not even hoping for a ten, a seven or an eight would do just fine. But, the reality is, there are days when a bad landing, a two or three, is the best you can do. You might fall a little short as all of your children beg for your attention at the same time or when your husband ignores the signals that you need help or when your teenager forgets to take out the trash.

What I love about Zhang Dan's story is her courage and strength to start right where she left off. Later in an interview, she said when the music started she wasn't sure where to begin, but soon her instincts took over and she just started skating. Wow! I love that thought. The pair went on to win the Silver Medal.

God is all about helping us pick up the pieces after a nasty fall. His voice is the music we can hear if we will only listen. When we do, it will be as if by some predetermined cue the music will lead us right back to where we should be. God is our comforting partner, allowing us our five minutes to cry before he whispers in our ear, "You can do it. Keep skating. I'm here to hold you up." God is the coach on the sideline whispering, "Go for it! You ARE prepared." God is the crowd of fans who came to see you succeed and cheers you on even, or more so, after a fall.

Today as you spin through your day with the pace of an Olympic champion, don't be discouraged that you may fall a time or two. I've no doubt you will and I will too. Just remember, the music will start again and you will finish the performance on the top of your game. Go, Mom, Go! There's a gold medal awaiting each of you!

PS Congratulations to the New Orleans Saints. What an awesome game!

Hugs, Chrys