JUST A LITTLE LIE

  Tonight was one of those nights that I had to do what every parent hates to do. I had to discipline my son for lying. He had lied about finishing his homework assignment and this was the second time. The first time was on his birthday, of all days. They both receive a "grace card" that they can use whenever they want on the first demerit for school. He used his on his birthday and took a small punishment for what else that had happened. This morning I had got an email that he hadn't finished his homework and was receiving a demerit. After correspondence with his dad, I found out the entire story and he had lied, again. My heart sunk, The entire day, every time I thought about the kids I felt a sense of dread because I knew what had to be done.

   I got home and said my hello's, took off my shoes and started warming up my supper. I called him into the kitchen. The conversation went a little like:
  "Did you get a demerit today?"
  "Yes"
  "Why did you get a demerit?" I could tell that his future hadn't sunk in yet.
  "I didn't do my math homework."
  "When daddy asked you if you finished your homework, what did you tell him?"
  (recognition) "I told him I did it all. I forgot that I had to do my math."
  "Did you have your math book in your book bag?
  "Yes."
  "Why else would you have your Math book in your book bag unless it was to do homework? What is in the front of your binder?
   "My weekly homework assignments."
  "So you do know where to find them?"
  "Yes." (weepy voice has fully taken effect at this time)
  " When you told your dad you did all your homework and you didn't have it done, what would you call that?"
  "A LIE!!!" (crying has set in)
  "When you did this a few weeks ago, what did I tell you?"
  "If I did it again I would get punished."
 
  I proceeded to lecture him on lying. I know everyone hates to be lectured but it is a tool to teach and teach I did.

  "You believe that telling that "little lie" bought you 10 minutes of extra play time but it snowballed. Now, you have to suffer the consequences of that choice. When you lie, it doesn't just affect you, it affects me, your dad, your teacher, your school work and your relationship with God. Just a little lie is now a huge ordeal. When you lie you break someone's trust. Not only to you have to catch up on that school work but you have to recover from the relationships that were affected by that 'little' lie."

  I drew a diagram of a lie in the middle and lines going from the circle with the word "lie" written in it, to other circles that had mom, dad, teacher, school work, J and God written in them. I showed him how far reaching it is when you tell a lie. I explained how each thing or person was affected by that seemingly small choice. Afterwards, I brought it home to him and honestly, I am still praying that it was a good move.

  "Do you remember what you told me when your dad left? You said that you knew why we weren't together anymore. You said that it was because dad lied. (He nodded his head.) He broke my, what?"
  "Trust."
  "I am practice for when you grow up. If you listen to me and obey the guidelines I set, more than likely, you will obey God when you are grown. If you start a habit of lying now, when you are 25 or 30 years old and break your wife's trust over and over again, your kids will be just like you and your sister. They will visit you on the weekends and staying with your wife during the week. They will be crying over the same hurt that you feel. Do you want that? You could possible prevent that from happening by practicing good habits now. Does that make sense?"
  "Yes."
   "I don't get disciplined by my parents anymore but I do get disciplined by God. If I don't obey Him, I have to pay the consequences as well. God gave you to me and I have a HUGE job of training you and giving you back to Him to serve Him one day. It's a big deal but I need your help. I need you to obey and listen, I am not trying to boss you around, I am trying to teach you for when I am not around anymore. There is no little boy I love more than you and what a good boy you are. It is all up to you. The decisions you make is yours. If you don't like the boy you see in that mirror than change it." (then he prayed and asked God for forgiveness. Called his dad and did the same)

  One of the hardest things I have to do, more so that discipline, is making sure the truths and the "why" behind what you teach them to hit home. I want them to not just follow MY rules but guidelines they will use from now until they are older. That is so important to me. I don't want them to do it because I say. I want them to do it because it is right. I don't know if you are aware but raising kids is not easy. If you think it is, maybe you should reevaluate what you are doing.
  Now that I have kids of my own, I can see that even the smallest things that I never gave much thought to were tools that were taught to me by my parents. When my kids were first born I realized what a "blank slate" they really were. It was my job to teach them EVERY little thing. What a huge and daunting task that looked like. They present you with many, many opportunities to teach them and show them the right way. At the same time, I really believe God uses that to show us some lessons as well. So many times I hear myself talking and think of God saying the same thing to me. It has changed my world.
  It is so hard to explain how much I love my children.  Even more so, it never ceases to amaze me how much more God loves us. I pray every day that I can be the parent my kids deserve. I pray that they will grow up to be more than just good citizens. I want them to be adults that change the world, even if it is just one person at a time.

WISHING ON A SHOOTING STAR

   The kids and I were walking in from church one night and it was so dark we could barely see the outline of the house. We looked up and it was breathtaking how much the stars shown. My daughter asked me, "If you wish on a shooting star, will it really come true?"
    (I am not one of those people that can out right lie to my kids, even if it about Santa or the Tooth Fairy. I will say something that lets the imagination work but I just cannot lie if they ask me outright. They know that and use it against me.)
    So, I told her as honestly as I could. "Well, if I ever see a shooting star, I wish on it. I don't recall if even one hasn't come true. So, if it doesn't work, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Let me wish on my stars and leave me be." She looked at me very skeptically after we got inside, shrugged her shoulders, said,"OK" and went to her room.
   
   The more I thought about that, the more I felt thankful that I never had to worry if my wish was coming true. My wishes sound a little more like prayers than wishes but I send them to the One that can deliver. I don't HAVE to wish or hope that a shooting star has some mystical powers that takes that wish with it and delivers it to some phantom being as it's last act before it goes into oblivion. The thing is, I know the Creator of the stars. He knows when that star has shown its brilliance for the very last time. He knew the exact second that it died and I believe He smiles at me when I send it off with a secret wish.
    We say that we believe in God, but do we really? We say He can do anything but how do we really know? What have we done that shows that we believe that? How easy it is, as those little phrases, verses and cliches just roll off our tongue. How do we back it? What has happened in our own life that shows other people that we have the "proof"?
    I have been through a time where I said all the right things and I sympathized with whomever I was speaking with. It wasn't until my own hard time came that I really believed in what God could do. I still try to control the situation, work myself to death and don't ever admit it but think that God is too busy or has people with "real" problems to worry about. After everything I have been through, I still think that sometimes. I have to make myself stop, turn around and look at where I have been. I have to remember where God walked with me, carried me and sometimes drug me along the way. Bless me, but I don't make it easy. I think before a guardian angel can retire, God sends them to me for six months to where I can help them earn their retirement. I imagine those angels walking into the celestial choir after their bout with me, scooting into their row. One nods their head at the other with a knowing smile on their face and says, "Stacy?" The other one, nods back and says, "Yep."  He knows my problems, weaknesses and dreams. It is up to me to ask. It is up to me to let Him show me who He is and work through me.
   I have seen some teenagers with very good singing voices sing in churches. Different group, same song but the church comes unglued. What is the difference? It's the "proof". They have lived a life where God proved that He was real. They have lived in a situation or had no one but Him. The words were the same. The music was the same. Four part harmony echoed throughout the building. The difference was, they didn't wish on a star and hope it would be okay. They knew it would be because they believed in a God that showed up and they allowed Him to work in their lives. Even when all they could do is cry in hurt and confusion, He heard their cry and answered their prayers. Those singers knew that He not only knows when that star fell but He knows their name.
 

 "He counts the stars one and all. 

He knows how much sand is on the shore.

 He sees every sparrow that falls.

 He made the mountains and the seas.

 He's in control of everything. 

Of all creatures great and small

He knows my name,

Every step that I take,

Every move that I make, 

Every tear that I cry.

And He knows my name,

When I'm overwhelmed by the pain

And can't see the light of day

I know I'll be just fine

Cause He knows my name.

I don't know what tomorrow may bring

I can't tell you what's in store

I don't know a lot of things

I don't have all the answers to the questions of life

But I know in whom I believe. "

DIRTY HANDS

  There have been so many times my kids have come to me with unidentified substances on their hands, face and coming out of every conceivable place on their body. They look at me with their big eyes and a sweet, melt your heart smile, wanting to be held. We have all seen a kid that has gotten into candy and runs up to their mom, hands held up, chocolate all over her and says, "I wanna hold you". The mom sweetly smiles, shakes her head at the child, picks the child up and calmly walks over to the sink, begins cleaning and talking or consoling the child. It is amazing how many times our kids have come to us with dirt, blood, candy, cake, food, unidentified slime and we just take it in stride, find the nearest hose and clean them off. Then, we send them on their merry way knowing that they will be back with something else we need to clean or dispose of. Those little dirty hands rarely ever are held up to us when they are clean. Our clothes can be covered in spit-up, snot, bits of food and we just take our kids as they come, mess and all.

    All I have are dirty hands. I come to my Lord with my hands held up in need of love, attention and someone to take me as I am. I am nothing without Him. He takes it all in stride and picks me up no matter what I have done or gotten into. He cleans me off and lets me go again knowing full well I will get into something else and He will have to clean me up again. I used to wonder how God had the patience to deal with me until I became a mom. It still amazes me but I get to see a small glimpse of that love through my kids. Those sticky finger prints on my car window that is like trying to remove super glue, reminds me that all I have to give are dirty hands. There is nothing I can offer God to amaze Him or win His approval. I need HIM. Not the other way around. I am a vessel, a tool for His use and His glory.

    We all want to think that He can use our talents and we really aren't THAT bad because we haven't ever.... But really, compared to perfection, we can never measure up. The things I know I shouldn't do, I do them. The things I desire in my heart and try to strive for, I don't do. Paul nailed it in Romans 7.
"For without me ye can do nothing." The little bit of "good" I may do is only contributed to the One that lives within me. Without Him....I cannot fathom where I would be, who I would be or even who I would be. The good thing is, I DON'T HAVE TO MEASURE UP. He loves me "as is". Dirty hands and all. I cannot earn His love or approval. He gives it freely.

    I am so glad that when I lift my hands in want of my heavenly Father, He doesn't look down at me in disapproval. He sees his baby girl in need of her dad. He sees an opportunity to hold me in His arms and help me get through a problem that I cannot get through without Him. He sees a chance to use my humanity to further His cause. When I lift my hands in praise, I do not impress Him. He sees dirty hands but He looks at them through eyes of love.


   

POINT OF REFERENCE

The other day I was talking and I realized that I said, since my divorce, after everything I've been through, a lot. My point of reference was always my divorce, the loss, the change in my life. It has been over a year since my divorce. I don't want every reference I make to involve my divorce as my point of reference in time. I need a new marker. I decided that I am going to start a tradition that the kids and I will do every year to close out our year and begin the new one. Something that has nothing to do with holidays or birthdays.
   I have been brainstorming and would love some suggestions as well. My thoughts are to take the kids out on a trail, have a picnic and have some time with just us to talk about our year and our expectations of the year to come. I want to have a time capsule and every year put our goals and burdens in that capsule. After that year we will read what our goals and burdens were and see what goals have been met and if God has chosen to take care of our burdens that we had that year. When should I do this? I am thinking a month after school starts we will do our little escape. That way, I can see, each year, how they are settling into school and address any problems at that time as well.
   We all know that divorce is hard. We know that it is a major mark on someone's life. I do not want every instance from now until I die to make a reference to that time. I want us to move on in word and deed. It is up to me to create the desire to set goals and dreams within themselves and give them the tools and encouragement to meet those goals. Now is the time when I can establish good habits and reinforce the hard stuff with a positive attitude. It will also require me to make goals and dreams for myself. It will give me the chance to share some burdens I have with the kids and give God a chance to help us with everything we put in our capsule. When it is opened, my hope is that those goals have been met and the burdens have been taken away.
   There is something in everyone's life that you mark time with. In my case, BD (before divorce) or AD (after divorce). I cannot wait around in hopes I get remarried, then add that as a marker. It may not happen. I will be wasting valuable time and effort, not to mention setting myself up for disappointment. It is up to me to make this a jumping off point.(Feel free to interject some ideas and also my crafty friends to help me think of something that would make a good time capsule. Regardless of the tradition that we come up with, the time capsule is a definite.) Our new point of reference will be something excited that we can enjoy as a family. Something that will create amazing memories and hopefully draw us closer. It is always easier to remember negative things in our life. We can remember what the weather was like, what we were wearing and many more details of a bad instance. I want to strive to create a day, tradition, mark of something that can be referenced that causes a smile, laugh or just a good memory in general. Honestly, I need to do that daily. Reflect on the positive that happened that day and not the negative so my new point of reference will be positive.

COMING HOME FROM BATTLE

  I am not a soldier. I have never physically been to battle. My battle was a different type. This week I realized I have come home from battle. I was fighting in a war, a battle not many knew about. Suffering from phantom pains and hidden scars, I go about my day trying to fit into the civilian life. No one sees the turmoil in my mind. Sitting in the service I started thinking about singing again and being in the choir. I had to make my body relax and tell myself how to breathe. As if unattached to my brain, my body started remembering old fears and worries of another time, at another church. It remembered that my every move was watched and anything I didn't do right I would be scolded or belittled for it. The last time I sang was one of the biggest victories I had at that point. It has been over two years that I have lifted my voice to the Lord in a church service as a soloist. No one saw my chest tighten and could see how light headed and panicky I felt. No one could hear my frustration as my head and my heart struggling against each other. I have not had anything like that happen in over a year! Where did that come from!?!
   The next day I was talking with some awesome people that I am learning to trust and love. I looked at them and I felt like I did not fit in. I felt like when I spoke that it was all coming out wrong. I felt that I would never measure up to who they are. Of course, I know how silly that is. As humans, we require other people to "measure up" to this insane standard we created when God, as the Creator of everything, knows we will never "measure up" and loves us anyway. I get that. I really do. However, I am still human. I looked at this young woman as she talked and saw how untouched by the world she seemed. I am sure she has had some hardships and challenges but she was untouched by the ugliness I have known. There may as well been a spotlight on me. I just felt so used, old, and battle worn. I felt like anything I said would come out wrong. The words and thoughts coming out of my mouth had a reference and a basis but that wasn't known. How much do I want them to know about me? Countless times I have shared little parts of my story just to have people look at me differently or act weird towards me afterwards and not be used to help others. Do I want to risk it?
  I walk into church and am so excited about being there but find myself more comfortable meeting someone off the street and helping a stranger than speaking to the "pillar" church members. It feels like I have two people fighting inside me. I have that strong warrior that has fought for myself and others for a long time and I have this lady that wants nothing more than to feel at home again. They do not coexist very well. When a simple line was spoken at a ladies meeting I recently attended, I bristled and wanted to rescue the speaker from feeling "not smart" or from "getting into trouble" with her husband. When she spoke of insecurities I heard, protection. When she spoke of doing this or that and "hiding it" from her husband, I heard domination. How did my thinking change so much? Where did this come from? Will I ever be that lady again or will I always be ready to run to the aid of others?
  Now, I walk into a room and don't just see some cute shoes or an outfit, I look at body language and their eyes. I can see almost see and feel their pain, tension or grief. It is like all of my nerve endings are on the outside of my body. People say, once a soldier, always a soldier. I have come home from battle but the war still rages, even if it is just inside of me.
   I started to wonder how long it takes a soldier to relax into civilian life. Really, once you have seen war and the destruction it brings, you can never un-see it.You are forever changed. The key is, figuring out how to cope with what you have gone through and how to use to it help other people.

  I am a daughter of the King. He loves me. I don't mean He loves me IF......He loves me (period)! No matter what battle or war you are going through, whether you feel like you are winning or losing, you are loved. I may not can wrap my arms around you when you cry but He can. I may not be able to take away the pain but He can. I may not even know your name but He does. Some of us have been in a relationship where we didn't know what love was so we assume God loves us in that same way. PLEASE don't judge God by how others portray Him. That feeling you get when you feel so alone and hopeless that you can't breathe and all the sudden you feel eerily calm....that is God. He is there. He is holding you. He was holding us up so we wouldn't be destroyed. (Ps 37:23&24) He will be here as we pick up the pieces and march on. Come home and know you aren't alone.

THE DANCE

As we walked into the auditorium it felt as if we walked into another world. The lights were dimmed and the temperature was almost cold, in a comforting way. We found our seats and the anticipation was building. The building filled up quickly and everyone spoke with excited whispers. As if on que, a stillness filled the room. We all sat on the edge of our seats and watched as the curtain lifted. The scene before us was beautiful. There were gorgeous bursts of colors and dark and gloomy places that were before our eyes. When just looking at those colors individually, it didn't make sense but from where we were sitting, the colors created a map of sorts. This map seemed alive. The colors grew and danced. There was a burst of lights and gorgeous dancers appeared. She was almost small for a dancer but the way she stood there awaiting the music, gave her an air of confidence that prevented us from taking our eyes off her. Her partner looked at her and she gave him an almost imperceptible smile. The music started. They were gliding across the stage and telling a beautiful story with their movements with the music as their guide. In their eyes it almost seemed as if they had an inner source giving them the next move to make. They were flawless. I held my breath as you could see her gearing up for a diffucult turn and jump. All the sudden, they fell!! They hit the floor, hard. Everyone jumped to the edge of their seat as if to help. Within seconds the lights went out except for one silhouette. It was her. I couldn't tell if she was stunned or if it was part of the dance. Where was he? It seemed as if the entire crowd breathed as one. The lights slowly became brighter but they still had a heaviness in them as she moved into the dance so slowly. I don't even remember if the music stopped. I felt as if I was on the stage with her, in her ear telling her to keep going and finish the dance. When that thought completed in my mind, the colors were almost blinding and she bursts forth in perfect timing with the music. The dance continued on. She had a different look in her eyes now. Again, she was flawless and beautiful as she turned and moved as if fluid in her motions. The look she held now was one of purpose. She seemed to be more tenacious. Although for a time she seemed to think of every move instead of it coming naturally.....
My mind was reeling. I was trying to understand what went wrong. We were dancing flawlessly. The best of our career! All the sudden we were on the floor. The lights went dark all around me and the main music stopped although some soft notes were still heard. My heart was beating so hard it blocked out everything else. The pain in my body was trying to block out the music as it struggled to over power my mind.What do I do? What happened? I turned around and he was gone. He never said a word and I was alone, in pain in front of everyone. All I could think of was DON'T GIVE UP. There is no choice other than to keep going. I could hear the voice of my instructor saying to me, "If you stumble make it part of the dance." I slowly rose. As if I told them to, the lights met my mood. I felt horrible pain and was unsure if I would be able to even take a step. My body just took over and did what it had been trained to do. I had to think of each step and I was praying I didn't look as robotic as I felt. My steps were in tune with the music but I wasn't sure if I could continue the entire dance. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw movement. As if in a dream, a man appeared. This isn't a part of the dance! He isn't my usual partner! Will he know the right steps? Can he step in and make this seem a part of the routine? He met me on the floor in front of the crowd. We locked eyes and immediately I felt calm. He touched my arm and we started our dance. It wasn't planned. I had no idea how to dance with this new partner. He was a great dancer. He gave me a calm that I hadn't felt with my usual partner. He guided me in different steps and lifts than I had practiced. It seemed planned. It felt natural. I felt like the pain melted away as our bodies moved as one. It seemed as if I drew strength from his presence. I could read his mind with just a touch and he did the same with me. It was almost magical. The crowd seemed to be lost in this new arrangement and I believe they thought it was all planned. The lights went down and the curtain fell. Barely a moment passed when a roar was met our ears. It was muffled through the curtain but we knew what it was. The curtain raised enough for us to walk in front of the crowd and they were on their feet! There were tears in some of their eyes. My partner had left. He would never dance with me again. Somehow I knew, that my dancing would be brought to another level with my new partner. It was exhilarating and terrifying. We moved as if we were one body, mind and spirit. We stood side by side and it felt as if he had been there all along. After this dance, I would never be the same dancer again. That fall could have ended my career. Stopping the show could have destroyed the company I danced for. It was so unexpected but I was stronger than I thought. That dance became the moment I knew that my life would never be the same. I didn't know where my new partner came from or how he knew my style of dance but we worked together effortlessly. It hurt me that the partner I had my whole career would no longer dance with me. He gave up in the middle of our dance but I did not. I'm still unsure what the crowd thought. I thought that I was finished. The pain in my body from the fall was blocking my connection to the music. My body was in pain but as if on it's own accord, it didn't quit moving. At first, the movements were robotic and I had to improvise without a partner. I almost felt numb as my muscles did what they were taught. When my new partner appeared and touched my hand, I knew that I would never be the same. The fall that could have ended everything, instead started me on a journey that will never be forgotten.

BEING QUEEN

   Once upon a time in a not so far away land, I was the queen of my castle. I ruled over dust bunnies, germs, bacteria and two small dwarfs. We conquered mountains of dirty laundry and defeated the dragons under the beds. We hid from the king and when he least suspected it, we would all trap him under our weight. We defeated the kingdoms that were in our castle. The dwarfs were taught how to be like a prince and a princess. We built forts and played dress up and tried to turn the king's head. I was the queen. I also ran the castle. I did not ask anything to be done that I have not done myself. I ran the kitchen staff. I orchestrated clean up. I also drove the royal chariot. Our "horses" names were "Honda" and "Odyssey". My castle wasn't perfect, but it was mine. If one were to put a degree's standards to the knowledge I had as queen and keeper of the dwarfs, I would say I was working on my doctorate.
   Then one day something completely unexpected happened, our castle had been overthrown by spies and we didn't even know it. Everything we knew and loved was no longer there. We had to pack up our castle, sell all our valuables and flee to the mountains. The king's heart had been turned and he was lost in the battle as well.
   Now, instead of running my castle and caring for the things and the ones I love, I help run other peoples castles. I count the money for other kings and lords. I clean other peoples floors and do their laundry while also doing my own. I am working while my little dwarfs that have magically became as big as I, are being watched and taught by someone else. The king still loves my little people and they go and see him on the other side of the divide. His new queen tucks them in each night and says the prayers I am supposed to be saying. She cooks their meals and answers their questions when I am not there. I am at my new dwelling, my cottage, waiting for my little loved ones to come home to me. I love my work and the amazing people that I have been working with but nothing replaces my castle. My king and I had funny little things we said to each other. I would hide from him and try to scare him when the little ones were in their dreamland. I would tickle him til he couldn't stand it. I would sing love songs to him and never move my eyes from his. Now, we are no more. It doesn't even seem real. When I see the one that was my king, he isn't the man I once knew. His voice isn't even familiar anymore.
   Daily, I get up and go to my new castle full of the peoples earnings and work with the amazing women that have their own stories to tell. Nightly, I come home to my cottage and can feel how empty it is. While the little people are away, it almost feels like a tomb. Where once there were all of the village people's children coming in and out and lots of laughter heard, is now just a shell of what once was. I no longer have a lush bed where I rest my head in peace and safety. I sleep on a couch. It is almost a comfort because it feels as if I am sleeping next to someone again. At night, all of the lights no longer go out. There is always one. It is no longer kept on so my love could see how to find me, it is kept on so I could see if someone were to come in to harm us and could take aim on the villain.
  At night when changing out of my work clothes, I feel my waist length hair softly down my back. It no longer brings a smile because I know the king loves it so. I long to feel someone lovingly touch my hair and get their hands tangled up in my silky locks. It doesn't matter what I put on because no one is there to admire my choice. I wear what I want to and it doesn't feel as triumphant as one might think. I go through the house cleaning up the remnants of whoever was in that room and absentmindedly left something there. I cook or just don't bother. I no longer think days in advance what to make in order to get the most approving compliments. It doesn't matter anymore. I cook what I want if I desire to do so. When the little ones are home it is a royal affair. We cook and clean together and make it an event. We talk of the day or little life lessons they need to know in order to one day be a king or a queen of their own castle. We laugh and tease and the house feels alive again.
   I loved being a queen. It was so gratifying to know that my castle was ran with finesse. Now, I have a hard time knowing what to do and what my station is. In my mind, I am still a queen. In reality, I am but a servant to the people. To my little ones, I don't know what they think of me, I feel like I am fading away and becoming invisible hands. I want them to view me as a queen that is temporarily on holiday and will return to my throne before too long. My thrown will be in a different kingdom but it will be ran with more care than even before.
  At times, I feel quite lost. Cooking and cleaning has lost its fun. Dressing up is still done with care but it doesn't feel as rewarding with no one there to admire the results. Decorating was such a fun delight. Every thing was just so and the anticipation of the king's approval was better than all of the gold in the kingdom. Now, I have a hard time unpacking a box and knowing what I want to do with its contents. It is such an odd place to be especially for one of my character and station. To have once been a queen but need direction like a child. Each coin that I earn is like gold. Each sacrifice made, I pray my little ones will love me for it and not despise my absence. No matter how many people I have met, no matter where my cottage is located, nothing has felt like home. I am looking forward to the day when I again am reigning over my kingdom. Not as a ruler but as one that wants the very best for the people that I love. That day may be near or it may never come. I may be looking towards a Heavenly kingdom instead of an earthly one. Either way, I will be queen. I will be a loving queen with a desire to serve my little ones and my Lord for as long as He deems fit.
   If you have been overthrown by spies and the lies they have spread. Take heart. This is just preparation for a time when you will need the strength of heart that you are learning right now. You will be showing your little ones how to have the heart of royalty. You will teach them to follow in your ways and those ways will lead them to redemption. Your castle will be even stronger because you will know the weak spots like you didn't know before it was overtaken. Love will be what you wield and your strength will be what write about it the history books. Our heavenly kingdom is full of people just like us. They are there cheering us on and holding the trumpets to one day celebrate our arrival. Until then, persevere. Every day is a chance to work towards making our kingdoms a reality. Do not worry about the king that used to reign but the one that may be found worthy enough to reign in the kingdom you will share. If one is not found worthy to be a guide to your little ones, then reign alone with the strength and beauty that THE KING gave you. Reign with grace and truth as you guide for I will be reigning with you and our kingdoms will be honored in the years to come.