Can You Identify?

When I set up this blog over a year ago, I created a profile and listed many of the hats I wear. At the time, I thought it was a pretty accurate representation of who I am, but now I’m not so certain... Sure, I’m a mother/daughter/ sister/aunt/friend, among other things, but that’s who I am to other people. Who am I in the grander scheme of things? Who am I to myself? Who am I to the One who created me??

In an ironic twist of time, my youngest child graduated from high school in May, and last weekend I attended my 30th high school class reunion. I had a good time, but I was struck by how predictable the interactions were between my former classmates. A lot of us had been to prior reunions, but some of us hadn’t seen each other in 30 years. Either way, the conversation inevitably went something like this: “So, where are you now? What are you doing? Married? And what about kids?”

Is that really all there is to us? I love where I have lived for the past 25 years, but there’s a whole lot of world out there that I haven't experienced yet. Shouldn’t I always be ready to pick up and go wherever God calls me to go (except maybe Africa)?

I will always love being a parent, and I hope Ben and Hannah know deep in their hearts that I’ll always be there for them. But a mother’s job description is constantly changing and, as any really good mother knows, if she's doing it right, she's working herself out of a job. With both of my children in college this fall, my parenting self will be taking a step into the background, leaving room for a new facet of my personality to catch the light.

And at the age of 48, I am comfortable (excited, even) saying, “I am a writer.” I graduated from Radford University with a degree in Journalism, and have always used some elements of my college training in my career. But it’s only in the past three years, working as an advertising and public relations copywriter, that I’ve been able to earn a paycheck doing what my diploma says I can do: write. Freelance writing and creative writing like this are the icing on the cake.

The fact is, it's easier to identify who we are during some seasons of our lives than others. And in retrospect, there is no pat answer to the question, “Who are you?” All of us are made up of different characteristics that meld together to create who we are. But without being grounded in something bigger, all of our attempts to accurately express our individuality will fail.

Before all of the other parts I play and list in my profile, I lay claim to being a “princess servant, a child of the King.” To know you are royalty and privileged to serve your Heavenly Father is an amazing and wondrous thing, and it gives meaning to all of the other roles that classify us in this world. Can you identify?

“And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” ~ 2 Corinthians 6:18

Parental Prom Wisdom

I've been through five proms in six years, and here’s what I’ve learned as the parent of both a boy and a girl:

1. It’s much easier to send a son to the prom than a daughter. Pretty much all Ben ever needed was money and some very basic guidelines… “Get a tux (preferably a classy one), make reservations for dinner somewhere without a drive-through, buy your date a flower (extra points if it complements her dress), drive very carefully, and treat her like a princess.”

Hannah, on the other hand, just needed money, and a lot of it. Her list included: THE dress, shoes, handbag, jewelry, hair, hair accessories, makeup, manicure, pedicure, waxing, tanning, and undoubtedly some other essentials I’ve forgotten. I also tried to share some parental wisdom with her, of course, but it just got lost in the pre-prom madness. In retrospect, I should have picked my time more carefully, like the previous October.

2. When it comes to prom attire, resistance is futile. I thought Ben’s first tux made him look like a gangster, but it was the one he was determined to wear, and wear it he did. The dress Hannah wore this year was the very first one she picked out online, but I wasn’t so sure. So we ordered three others, none of which worked, and ended up scrambling to get the first dress here and altered the day before the big night. I could have saved myself a lot of hassle and shipping charges if I’d just gotten with Hannah’s program in the beginning.

3. The “official” pictures taken at the prom are a waste of money, but you can’t take too many pre-prom photos. There were 24 kids (that's right, 24) in Hannah’s prom group this time, and I juggled two cameras for over an hour to make sure we had pictures of every possible combination, including dates, friends, guys only, girls only, short dresses, long dresses, pale dresses, and sharp tuxedos, just to name a few. And there was a plethora of backgrounds to choose from as well. So naturally we posed in front of all of them, including the fountain, the gazebo, trees, flowering shrubs, the inn, and Main Street. When it was all, over my index finger was cramping and I felt qualified to add the title,“Paparazzi” to my resume.

4. If your child attends both their Junior and Senior proms, the first one will be “perfect,” but the second one will be more fun.

5. You will worry about them until they come home or call you and say they’re safely wherever it is they’re spending the night. Of course, that holds true anytime teenagers are out and about, but it’s never truer than on prom night (and maybe graduation).

6. Finally, as you watch your children and their friends get dressed up like the Rockefellers and drive off into the sunset, recognize that you’ve just had a magical glimpse into the not so distant future. Add it to your collection of precious memories, no matter how many pictures you took, and treasure it as the gift from God that it is.


Make our sons in their prime like sturdy oak trees, our daughters as shapely and bright as fields of wildflowers. ~ Psalm 144:12 (The Message)

Flying Lessons

I just watched these two beautiful girls – my daughter Hannah and her friend Whitney – get into a car and drive away, ready for the first day of their senior year of high school.

It felt far removed from those momentous first days of kindergarten, when I would pick out my children’s perfectly matched clothes and pack nutritious lunches in brand new lunchboxes. And of course they wore the huge poster board cutout of a school bus, their bus number prominent in fat, black marker, so they would make their way back to us that afternoon. I would slip this vital information, strung on a scratchy yarn necklace, over their necks and make them pose on our front deck for the all important “first day of school” photo.

There was no picture today. The last one I took was the year our son Ben was a senior driving his freshman sister to school. They wouldn’t stop for a photo, so I got a shot through the bedroom window, with them looking up at me impatiently as if to say, “Can we please leave already??”

So it’s a bittersweet morning for a mom. I know this year will fly by, picking up speed as it goes. Ben has already been gone two years, and we’ll likely be packing Hannah’s things this time next year. But that’s the plan, right? I’ve heard it put this way: We’re working to put ourselves out of a job. The goal? To raise our children to leave the nest as independent, confident young adults, ready to face a world of wonderfully exciting possibilities!

When they were little I quoted this scripture often: “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it,” (Proverbs 22:6, NIV). It’s still appropriate, and a comfort to me when I’m not sure where they are or what they’re doing.

But I also find encouragement in Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV): “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

It’s a verse I’ve claimed for myself many times, and now I claim it for my children as they take flight. They’re not ours … they never were. And there’s great reassurance in that truth, too.