Category Archives: Motherhood

Until She’s Home

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Baby girl from a foreign land
Becomes a McGlothlin by God’s divine hand
Bureaucratic nightmare, battles to be fought,
They travel far to meet her, returning home distraught
Heart heavy, eyes glistening, they awaken to another day
Cries to the Father rise, bring her home, do not delay
Aseres Grace; soft skin, cherubic face, round eyes, somber smile
Separated from family by oceans and miles
Cling tight to this promise, God’s word is true,
He will not leave you hopeless, they will return to rescue you

First…He Belonged to Christ

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After the accident at UMC Brackenridge

Tuesday, December 20, my baby boy, Chris, is scheduled for surgery.  He suffered a torn meniscus, resulting from the car accident we were in last month.  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little anxious.  He may be 15, but he is my baby and I am not thrilled about him going under general anesthesia.  The surgeon has only blocked off an hour, so I guess the procedure is relatively simple.  At one point the surgeon said the meniscus was trashed and that if he can’t repair it he’ll remove it.  Mama doesn’t like the sound of that and so I’ve been praying for repair versus removal.

There is something else. . . Chris is a gifted athlete with a special call on his life (read Special Delivery).  This accident is not satan’s first attempt to destroy that gift (read Hat Trick).  The mother in me worries how all these injuries; broken pelvis, broken collar bone, broken ribs, torn meniscus will affect his ability to perform as an athlete.  The Warrior Princess, strong faith side of me, is sure God would not save Chris during the accident only to allow satan to destroy that gift.

#35 running back a blocked PAT

As I was praying this evening, the Lord reminded me that Chris belongs to Him.  Chris was God’s before he was mine.  I cannot possibly love or care for him more than his Creator.  I felt strongly that I should publish this short post so that we as a body can yolk together in prayer for Chris’ surgery, recovery and subsequent return to sports.  We know that he will miss baseball season, the surgery takes four weeks to recover from and that’s okay.  We want him fully recovered and ready for Spring football, therein lies his passion.

Praying, trusting, waiting.

A Runner’s Purpose

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April 2010 marked the beginning of my competitive running career. In the last sixteen months, I’ve competed in seventeen races; one 5K obstacle course, ten regular 5K’s, two 4 Milers, two 10K’s and two half marathons. Not only are the races fun and a great workout, but proceeds from the registrations fees go to support good causes; adoption, scholarship funds, cancer support, families of firefighters who die in the line of duty, school athletic programs, and that just covers a few. I started running competitively because I wanted to, but I’ve kept running to bring glory to God.

When I first started running I never dreamed I’d run further than a few miles. But God’s plans are so often much different than our plans. One morning during my workout I started thinking about distance running. I thought, “I wonder if I’d ever be able to run ten miles?” “Nah.” It wasn’t a week later that a friend posted on twitter asking for runners to join her in the http://www.marathonforadoption.com. At the time our pastors http://morelovetogive.com were planning to adopt a child from Ukraine. Funds raised via the race would help offset their adoption expenses. The thought of running 13.1 miles made me want to vomit, but I registered anyhow. Six runners from our church http://theriverstonechurch.com participated in that race. Waiting for us at the finish line, just back from Ukraine, were our pastors with their two new daughters, Olivia Kate and Natalia Rose. Hanging proudly on my cubicle wall is a picture of me and the girls from that day.

There are all types of runners. Me? I’m a slow, distance runner, but after running my second half marathon, and taking 10 minutes off of my time, I decided to train for speed. I spent several months trying to break a consistent 8 minute mile but I just could not do it. I could run a 7.5 minute mile, but maintaining it for an entire 5K was impossible. Frustrated. Frustrated. Frustrated. Not even in training did I once hit my target. As half marathon season began to roll around again, I started praying about what to do. Do I skip the half marathons this fall and focus on speed or do I revert back to what I know and do well? This really was a difficult decision as quitting is not in my nature. I didn’t want to give up speed work having not achieved my goal. There was also another issue, I had no intention of running the http://www.marathonforadoption.com again this year. “I” wanted to run the Tyler Rose Half Marathon. “I” wanted to run the La Porte Bridge Half Marathon. Sense a theme here? The races are too close together for me to run them all, I had to choose.

Several weeks ago God gave me an answer. I picked up my race packet for the Dog Days 4 Miler in New Braunfels and tucked inside was a http://www.marathonforadoption.com postcard for this year’s race. Smiling at me were the beautiful faces of Olivia Kate and Natalia Rose, the former orphaned sisters rescued from Ukraine by our pastors. I began to weep and knew what God would have me to do. The next day I resumed my half marathon training work outs. This year I run http://www.marathonforadoption.com in support of Brian & Christy Guenther http://www.raisingthehope.com , and Wilson, the little boy they are adopting from Haiti. I run with purpose. I run for the glory of God.

Joy in the Mourning

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Twenty one years ago today, William Harry Maddison III, affectionately known as Tre’ made his debut at a hospital in Waxahachie, Texas. Tre’ carries the honor of being the first grandchild, first grandson, and my first nephew. All that together makes for one special guy, but that is just the story’s beginning. You see, over 1500 miles away in Mountain Home, Idaho, on the exact same day, August 9, 1990, another baby arrived. This baby, my son, Matthew James Miller, was stillborn. What a schizophrenic day for our family; rejoicing over the birth of one child and mourning the loss of another. The day was especially difficult for my mother; two daughters, two grandsons, two states and two opposing emotions.

A few days later, my husband and I traveled to Texas to bury our son and meet our new nephew. Much of that trip is a blur, buried under layers of scar tissue, but several vivid memories stand out: the suffocating torrent of emotion that engulfed me after viewing that tiny casket, Tre’s father serving as a pall bearer at my son’s funeral, and watching my mother snuggle with her new grandson. Part of me yearned to hold Tre’, to smell his baby fresh scent, and eventually I did, but not for long. The pain of my loss was still too raw.

Time and distance eventually wrapped their soothing balm around my fragmented heart. When we returned to Texas four short months later, I could not WAIT to see my nephew! I held him, fed him, bumped his head taking him out of the baby swing (sorry, Tre’!) and even took him for an overnight visit. After the holidays Tre’ and his mommy came to Idaho and lived with us for a while. A scene replays in my mind of the day we bought Tre’ his first pair of shoes. Going from bare feet to high top sneakers can be a difficult transition for any toddler, but Tre’ was most cooperative. His happy clomping throughout the store had the other shoppers grinning with delight. I’m smiling even now as I relive that moment.

Babies are born every day, and all of them have a purpose, no matter the circumstances surrounding their arrival. God is SOVEREIGN. Nothing surprises him. He always has a plan. William Harry Maddison III brought life when there was death, joy when there was pain. Each year the celebration of his birth reminds me of the gift God sent. There is no more mourning, only rejoicing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRE’!

Love, Auntie

Special Delivery

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The James Miller Jr. household was established in 1986. By 1994, it resembled the perfect American family, with 2.3 children, one boy and one girl. 1995 dawned and the Miller’s contemplated whether to expand their family, or call it complete. Silly folks, they should have known they were not in control of their destiny. News of the third pregnancy was such a surprise that the Miller’s kept it to themselves for the first five months. Leggings and thigh length baggy sweaters were quite stylish at the time, so no one suspected that Mrs. Miller’s midriff was rapidly expanding. Until that fateful Sunday.

A guest preacher was speaking at the Miller’s church, and though they cannot recall the reason, the Miller’s went up for prayer. Boy what a big mistake! That tattle tale preacher unwittingly told the whole congregation about the little bundle of joy due to arrive in a few short months. He told them the baby she was carrying was a boy, that this boy would be strong like Samson, he would bring much joy to their lives, and his smile would win the heart’s of others.

Every word spoken by that preacher was true. Fast forward to May 2, 2011. That baby, Christopher David Miller, turned 15 today. At 5′ 9”, 160 pounds, with an eight pack abs, bulging biceps, the ability to bench press 200 pounds, squat 300 pounds, and a run 5.45 second mile, the Samson comparison is not far off. Any opponent running into Chris during a soccer game is guaranteed to hit the ground with a loud THUD, heard in the bleachers, while Chris maintains his forward progress. Christopher’s unique sense of humor and witty one liners are a constant source of entertainment. And those dimples. . . those dimples have charmed his Mama into giving him his way on many an occasion. Rumor has it, she is not the only female taken by his charm. The lethal combination of dimples and blue eyes make him quite popular with the girls. In true Renaissance fashion Chris is also developing a knack for cooking. Rachel Ray is his second favorite cook, after his Mama, of course.

God knew exactly what he was doing when he added Chris to the Miller Household, life would not be the same without him. Happy 15th Birthday!!!

 

Dress Divine

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Relax – To remit or abate in attention, assiduity or labor. Relaxing is not something I do well. I remain in “think or do” mode most of my waking hours. Rarely am I sitting still. If you do happen to catch me sitting still, don’t be fooled; my mind is running full steam, planning, pondering, and sometimes even plotting. Lately my inability to relax has focused around the dreaded four letter word, prom. Our only daughter is going to her first prom and that means tears. Tears because she is growing up, and tears because I have to spend money, lots of money. The dress has to be perfect, completed by fancy matching shoes, magnificently styled hair, brilliantly painted nails, dazzling jewelry, professional photos, and a snappy boutonnière for her date. Add the stress of sticking to a budget, and you have the recipe to send a border line obsessive compulsive personality like mine, into emotional upheaval.

Denial does not work well, but that is what I had been attempting to do, pretend this whole prom event was not really going to happen. My daughter shares her mother’s charming trait of knowing exactly what she wants along with the same unwillingness to deviate from said desire. Can you imagine the two of us shopping together? Beware. Unwilling to foray into this adventure alone I sought moral support from my mother and sister in law. Bravely scouring numerous stores in Dallas, we were forced to admit defeat and return home empty handed, leaving me to continue the search alone. I did, however, seek Divine assistance. On one of my morning runs I had a chat with Jesus, asking him to help us find the perfect dress for her, without traipsing all over the vast state of Texas, and without breaking my wallet. After such a prayer, I should have been at peace, trusting that my heavenly Father who loves both my daughter and I, had the situation under control, but I wasn’t.

Shopping day arrived and with it an uber case of the crankies. Try as I might, I could not get out from under the oppressive black cloud that threatened to ruin the day. I prayed for direction on where to shop and felt like we needed to go to Austin. For most people a trip to Austin means jumping in the car and going. I am an exception to that rule.  Traffic makes me nervous, I don’t know east from west and I cannot read a map. Most people use Google maps or MapQuest, not me. All of my maps are custom designed by my husband. I’m not kidding. My husband looks up the destination and then creates a custom arrival and departure map, just for me. Only this day, my husband was at work and couldn’t help me. Looking at the on-line directions overwhelmed me. What should I do? Knowing a trip to Austin would provide the dress we sought, I decided to put on my big girl panties and venture into the great unknown, AKA as driving without a map. Guess what? We made it without even a single wrong turn. Yea me! My determination to succeed seemed to change my perspective, suddenly I found myself excited and ready to conquer the world of prom couture.

Our first stop overflowed with dresses in every style, color, and size imaginable. One lone dress stuck Brittany’s fancy. We left empty handed but still determined to succeed. Our next stop wielded a two hundred percent chance of increased probability for procuring a dress, she entered the fitting room with THREE dresses. Elation filled her face as she opened the door to reveal her first potential find. We put two dresses on hold and decided to try one other store before making a final decision. Both of dresses on hold were on sale for about 25% off. The third location was having a HUGE sale. We found an identical dress but this one, which we purchased, was 60% off, leaving plenty of room in the budget for shoes.  As God would have it, there was a shoe store located right between the two dress stores. We found the perfect pair of shoes, also on sale. At the end of the day we had purchased a dress and shoes for 50% of the allocated dress budget, leaving extra money for hair and nails. Ah, the sweet feeling of success.

Now, some may say the universe conspired to create a karmic set of circumstances allowing all of these events to unfold so beautifully. But I know the truth. I serve a God who loves me incredibly, and cares about every aspect of my being, right down to my daughter’s prom dress and matching shoes!

 

Dating; What’s the Point?

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Dating, as a rule, is prohibited in the Miller Household. Boy/girl group outings are permitted and open communication is encouraged. We are willing to listen and perhaps adapt for extenuating circumstances. For instance, prom attendance is allowed with a date, but not until junior year of high school. I realize that to some, our perspective may seem antiqued. But I pose the question, particularly to Christian families, why do we allow our teenagers to date?

My husband and I decided early in our marriage that our children would not participate in cyclic dating. Having experienced dating heartbreaks in our teenage years, our first thoughts were motivated by a desire to protect our children from that devastation. From the time our children were small, we talked to them about dating and why we felt it was not a good idea. Of course a ten year old who is fine with the concept may not be so accommodating once they enter the teen years. I will not pretend that navigating the teen years with this rule in place has been easy, there have been some tears shed, both by us and our children. However, just because life gets uncomfortable, it doesn’t mean we should stray from our values to adopt something more user friendly.

One child has had a bit more difficulty than the other two. During an emotional discussion, the frustrated child said, “You guys are the only parents who don’t allow dating, even my Christian friends can date.” We gently reiterated our perspective and pointed out that modern dating is not found anywhere in the Bible. This child quickly grabbed a student Bible, opened to the concordance and pointed out a section entitled, “Dating”. Unfortunately, this child had never bothered to look up the scriptures or he/she would have discovered that none of the scriptures actually mentioned dating at all. Apparently neither did the misguided editor. But, the statement caught my attention. Sadly, the child was right, his/her Christian friends date, and I have to wonder why that is. Why do we seem to be the only parents with this perspective?

In the Bible marriages were arranged by families. I do not necessarily believe we should adopt that practice, but we should be involved in our children’s opposite sex relationships. What does dating teach our children? That breaking up/divorce is the answer when difficult situations arise? That physical attraction rather than friendship is the framework a relationship is built on? That casual sex with multiple partners is acceptable? I do not see where modern dating teaches our children anything of value. Don’t think me naïve either. I am well aware that children sneak around and do things they ought not when they think we aren’t looking. Fortunately though, the Holy Spirit is a tattletale and whispers gently to us when our children go astray.

I do not claim to have all the answers on this subject nor do I presume to cast judgment on those with a different perspective. My sole motivation here is to ask the question, “Why do we allow our children to date?”