Tap, tap, tap

Three baby robins waiting for mama to bring more food

At times, it feels like God isn’t listening, the heavens are brass, there is a wall that seemingly no amount of prayer or praise can penetrate.

Of course, I know that this is when faith comes in. This is where I am supposed to press in, to trust and wait patiently. But my human need for immediate attention cries out. Impatience prevails. Anger even rears it’s ugly head.

I was having one of these seasons recently. Well, it felt like a season but in reality, it was only a couple of days. My maternal cares for my children and other concerns were crowding out my joy. I could say I am 100% joyful all the time with never a care in the world but that would be a lie. I’ve realized that it’s okay to call on others for help and for prayer when the oppressive thoughts are wearing you out. I had felt a heaviness weighing on me and I needed relief but I couldn’t hear God, couldn’t sense His presence.

I had requested prayers from a couple of trusted women and was about to sit down and begin my days work.

Here, I must backtrack for a minute and tell you that there was a robin’s nest where three beautiful blue eggs had recently produced three hungry babies, situated in a gutter on my porch. My granddaughter and I would watch the mama bird forage for worms and bugs tirelessly all day long. She would bring them back faithfully to nourish her growing triplets.

So, as I am sitting in my office, feeling gloomy, I hear a tap, tap, tap on my window. The birds haven’t done this in a while, so I was surprised to hear it. I carefully opened my back door and the mama bird flew to the grass right off the porch and looked at me with her little head tilted. I looked around and saw the nest and the three babies scattered on the porch. They had fallen down from the gutter along with their nest and she was requesting my help to put it all back together again! That may sound unbelievable to some, but why else did she tap and then sit there and look at me that way?

Carefully, I picked up each baby with a tissue and put them back in the nest and sat it on a table near my back door. A family of doves had nested there last year, but I wasn’t sure if the robin will feel safe enough to return. She did. A few minutes later, I looked outside and she was sitting on the nest.

I walked back into the house and immediately, I felt God’s presence. I felt Him assure me that mama’s will always want to shelter their babies, but sometimes they have to get out of the way and let someone help them, like mama robin had done. I needed to once again, give my cares to Him and get out of the way. He also reminded me how much He cares for me. I felt peaceful, the heaviness lifted and I felt joy again. He answered my prayers with the help of a helpless little mama.

Some people might think this story is for the birds, but I don’t care. God has used his creation and creatures and stranger things than that to make me see the light before. The point is, He cares. We still forget it sometimes, but it doesn’t change the fact.


Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12:6-7

Life Long Love

Ah, Motherhood. What can I say that hasn’t already been said? To quote Dickens, “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. You may think that an odd comparison, unless you are a mother. If you are a mother, it resonates deep in your soul.

Two of the best days of my life were when I held my daughters in my arms for the first time; miniature versions of me. I carried them and had eventful deliveries with both of them, but it is true that any pain melts away as your heart melts in a way it never has before. I encountered a love like none I had ever known.

Over the years, I experienced many “best days”; their first smile, their first steps, many “I love you’s”, the proud moments at school and church, baptisms, graduations, weddings and one of the VERY best, when I was handed each of my two granddaughters.

There were also the bad days. To put it simply, when they hurt, I hurt. Whether it was a bully at school, an illness or injury they suffered with, a break-up that left them broken or just general feelings of insecurity or pain. If you are a mom worthy of the title, I guarantee you, you would rather feel the pain yourself. Every. Single. Time. Other than Jesus, you are their greatest advocate, their biggest fan and you FEEL deep where they are concerned.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that somehow when they turn 18, when their teen years have possibly left your head spinning, that your job is done, that any percentage of the head and heart stuff will cease. Truly, you may no longer operate a charity-based uber service, your laundry loads will decrease, your kitchen won’t feel like grand central station and your nights won’t be filled with games and homework (but oh, how you will miss all this!). Physically though, you will finally have rest. You can sleep in. You can have uninterrupted coffee and many other things.

But, if you think for one moment that this somehow equates with mental rest……if you think that your mind somehow blissfully morphs into a peaceful state that has no cause for fear or concern; that you won’t still feel their pain, wonder about their future, cringe at some of their choices and stay up praying some nights, you have it all wrong.

This thing they call Motherhood, it’s for life. It’s not an easy calling and it certainly isn’t for the faint at heart. You will wring out every drop of yourself to make their lives better and there will be times they don’t seem to appreciate it. (Okay, I know some of you have perfect children, but most of us don’t). I am still a middle aged mom, so I don’t know it all yet, but in speaking with older mom’s, I am assured nothing ever changes. Your desire to hold them, help them and protect them will never be diminished.

Ultimately, you have to let go. You will not have as much say in their choices or the roads they chose to take. This will bother you and if you are smart, you will learn when to offer advice or opinion and when to simply smile and swallow it. They may parent differently than you did, and in some ways this might be a good thing.

There are days when I see myself in them, maybe only a glimpse but it is somehow comforting. This grown creature really is mine and there are still similarities. I hope when they see me in them, it brings them comfort too.

I lost my mom when I was 30 years old and I continue to feel that loss. Mostly, I miss her unconditional love, her undying support, her love-filled advice and being able to share everything with her. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve had friends, aunts and a mother-in-law who have helped tremendously in filling the gaping hole that her death left in my heart. I know how much my mother loved me and that gives me comfort.

There is NOTHING my girls could do that would take away my love for them. We may disagree, but I love them through everything, the good and the bad. They know this without a shadow of a doubt. That my friends, is one of the most important roles of a mother.

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank the Lord, my God for my beautiful girls and for His constant love and strength, continually helping me to be the best mother I can be. I have failed and will continue to, but He forgives me and helps me to forgive myself and learn from my mistakes.

There is no perfect mother, although mine was awfully close. If we do the best we can with what we know, and strive to know more and do better, we will have done well.

Blessings and Peace,


“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

The other side of the fog

Sunday morning Word

This morning I was studying the story of Joseph from his coat of many colors and the telling of his prophetic dreams, to the jealous brothers casting him into a pit, and then selling him into slavery.  But all along God had a plan and He positioned Joseph to save Egypt and Canaan from famine.  A good outcome didn’t look possible to the human eye, guided by the flesh.

I was reminded of one of my recent trips to Miami to be supportive to my youngest daughter and visit my almost 8 month old granddaughter, struggling with an infection in her lungs.  Since her diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis, she has fought and won many battles in the short time she has been around to bless us.  I attribute this to many prayers.

On the particular morning, the fog was thick and blanketed everything for miles.  My travelling progress was impeded as I slowly navigated my way through the unknown.  Visibility was limited, and I found myself a little nervous because I couldn’t see the cars coming toward me from miles away and I was unsure of what was creeping up behind me until the headlights broke through the fog.  I found myself focusing on the fog and its dangers, ready for the sun to break through and begin to burn it all away.

I felt the stirring of the Holy Spirit as I realized that once again, God was trying to teach me something.  You know, if we slow down and pay attention long enough, we can hear that still small voice.

Such is life.  In this journey through the vast unknowns with Cali, I know that on the other side of it, there is clarity.  I cannot begin to figure it all out now, to predict what is coming or to visualize the hidden hazards along the way.  I can apply this to so many situations in life; those where I can barely navigate on a daily basis, much less discern the outcome.

But, this I do know; on the other side of the fog, there is a Son and He always burns for me.  His will may not be understandable at times, the outcome may not always make sense to me, but I will continue to live in the knowledge that He wants the best for me.  In the midst of a broken, fallen world, He is my hope, my strength and my refuge.

Remember, it was never God’s intention that we live in a broken, fallen world that is filled with sin and hurt and hate.  And, He loved us enough to send His Son, to give us a chance at redemption, restoration and an eternal life, a life much more important than the short one we will live out on this earth.

Just give me my binky


We sat there in the dark watching her fight sleep, contorting her little face every which way trying to hold on to her binky when it threatens to fall.  A binky is otherwise known as a pacifier for those of you who may not have heard it referred to that way.  She loves that thing.  I’ve heard folks voice their opinions on them both pro and con and have probably stated my own in the past and likely in a negative way to some poor new parent.  This is something else I have learned; don’t judge the child still sucking a binky or maybe still wearing diapers.  I don’t know their journey.

13912343_280314879008026_5289825603233603215_nCali will be 5 months old on the 13th of this month and all she knows up until now is the inside of a room without outside windows.  It is mostly white and very sterile.  Thankfully, we can dress up the crib a bit and bring some toys in, but it’s just not home.  We can’t roll around in the floor or fall asleep with her nestled on our chest.  We have to wear yellow gowns to hold her and she is still attached to several lines or tubes.

I try to imagine her discharge day and the way her little eyes will behold so much newness in one day.  She will leave the room she has grown up in thus far, see sunlight, ride in a car, see her own home and sleep in a new bed.  As anxious as I am for all of this to occur, my heart goes out to these little ones making these big adjustments.   They are used to the whiteness, the machines, the beeping and blinking and the cries of other little ones.  Maybe I’m just emotional because this is my little granddaughter, but it’s something I have never once thought about until now.

I am determined to learn from this experience, resolved to be a better person because of it, and adamant about increasing in compassion and empathy for others.  This brings to mind the verse in Hebrews, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are–yet he did not sin.”

We should be able to empathize with the weaknesses of others and consider their voyage through this life and the ups and downs and tests and turmoil.  Maybe I’m being too transparent when I admit how blind to the predicaments of others I have been in the past.  Perhaps some of you will think less of me because of it.  But, when I decided to have a blog, I always intended to openly share experiences, always hoping my stories would help shed light on someone else’s path.

I am sincerely grateful to God for every opportunity I get to show love and compassion to someone else, even though I still often fail Him.  I still fail in recognizing needs or simply stay too busy to do all that I would like to.  You know, part of loving others starts with really listening, taking time enough to know a need exists.  We are a busy people and we have to make a point to slow down and be attentive, even in our own families.

PS – Cali is doing much better.  They removed her PICC line this week.  Her bottle feeding has increased greatly as tube feeding has decreased.  She is up to 8 lbs 1 oz and if she continues to do well on feeds and continues to gain weight, our discharge date will be closer 🙂

Related articles:  When life throws a curve ball and Cali; the gift that keeps on giving


Forward progress

13511042_10154214939926763_6505748762857644676_nWas the game called Sorry where you move game piece forward or back based on where you land?  The other day my daughter said, “Two steps forward and ten steps back” and I visualized that game.  She was referring to her baby’s progress this week after three months in the NICU.  She was frustrated, exhausted both physically and mentally and was exaggerating just a tad.  It would have been easy for me to say something trite like, “Well, it could be worse”, or “All in good time”, but I knew it was better to just stay silent and try to rub the knot out of her neck.  I know my daughter and her patience level was waxing thin on that particular day.

I have learned that sometimes it is just better to say nothing.  I should say that I am learning this, because I certainly haven’t mastered it.  I have an entire library of “go to” clichés that are completely useless or even irritating in situations that I fail miserably at recognizing on occasion.  Sometimes a smile or a hug or just your being there does more to ease the angst of the weary than a thousand words could ever do.  Often, just listening is all that is needed; we don’t always have to feel compelled to “fix” things.  This is hard for me, I will admit.  I want to give advice, answers, help resolve and implement ideas!  But, as I said, I am learning.

I don’t have the time or inclination to delve into the multitude of issues that I’ve been faced with in the last few months.  However, suffice it to say that I understand being too tired to talk or too mentally exhausted to answer a simple question without emotions turning into teardrops.  With that said, I know in whom I trust and I can approach my trials and tribulations without fear and with faith.  This doesn’t mean I won’t get bone tired sometimes and need to seek a quiet peaceful place to re-fresh myself for the next battle.  (Yes, there will be more this side of heaven.)

What always compels me though to think I have to have an answer or suggestion for every tough situation I see others going through?   I don’t know.  Most of the time, I truly believe it’s that I really do want to help and soothe someone’s heart and I’m just not always sure of how best to accomplish that.   I do know that I had NO idea what people were going through when they spent months at a hospital with their child until our precious Cali was born.

Sheepishly, I think back at how silly or even heartless some of my pre-Cali comments must have sounded to others.   The thing is, we really do not know what anyone is going through unless we have walked in those same shoes and even then, experiences still vary from person to person even in the same scenario.

It amazes me that even in the tough times; God teaches us if we let Him.  As we go through pain, if we follow His lead, we can grow in the midst of it.  We can come out on the other side with a better understanding of mercy, with more empathy.

The other day as we pulled into the hospital park lot, my daughter (who still needs to learn patience) was complaining about the SUV in front of us.  She was anxious to get up to the 2nd floor and love on her baby, and this car was too slow, and in the way.  She spouted off something negative and I found myself right smack dab in the middle of a teaching moment.  I gently reminded her that the person in the car could be arriving at the hospital for the first time with a sick child, or leaving alone, never to bring theirs home.   She got my point and I have noticed her growing in grace through all of this.

So, have patience with me and I will try to have more patience with you.  Forgive me when I say all the wrong things or end up doing nothing because I didn’t know what to do.  As for me, I pray to practice giving people the benefit of the doubt, to recognize that their day might be going worse than mine and to try not to offer up trite, commonplace sentiments when a hug or a prayer might serve them better.

Daily Prompt: Journey

Here’s a quick poem for today’s prompt….Journey



I’m going on a journey

Don’t be surprised to see me smile

Please don’t try to bring me back

I’ll be gone a little while


I’ll back up from today

To a time when they were small

I’ll put years in reverse

Like they never passed at all


I’ll enjoy the chubby fists

And little chins covered with goo

The bumbling first steps

And baths and bedtimes too


The sleepless nights year after year

For one reason or another

From leaking diapers to broken hearts

Mom helped them to recover


This worn and yellowed photo album

Is bursting at the seams

It overflows with memories

Of their accomplishments and dreams


Yes, I’ve reminisced a while

So I’ll journey homeward very soon

Oops, I’ve been distracted now

With Corduroy and Goodnight Moon

When life throws a curve ball


It has been over a month since I’ve shared anything I have written and when I saw today’s prompt, “Curve”, I knew it was time.

When life throws a curve ball, we can back away in fear, freeze up and hope it flies by quickly with no pain, or we can plant our feet firmly, bend those knees and get ready to knock it out of the park.  I am certainly no baseball expert, but you get my point.

With that said, let’s back up to the end of March when my youngest daughter’s pregnancy was going along smoothly.   We had big plans for purchasing must have items, getting the baby room ready; you know… the normal things you do at this part of the journey.

Early April, she went for an ultrasound that indicated a problem with baby’s tummy, so she went to a specialist and found out she would likely be having a planned C-section and her baby would be having surgery to correct whatever the “bowel problem” was.  The goal was to have her reach at least 36-38 weeks.   This was our first curve ball and we all braced ourselves, thanked God that it wasn’t anything worse and re-evaluated plans.

As her little belly grew substantially due to the increase in amniotic fluid, she looked as though she would burst, and that she did at 32 weeks.  Well, I guess burst is a strong word but I got a call in the wee hours of April 13th, where her calm voice said, “Mom, my water broke, I guess we should go to the hospital”.   Second curve ball here, and I was a little concerned because the specialist had just said the day before, “What we don’t want to happen is for her water to break and cause a placental abruption (tearing placenta away from uterus), as this will cause more complications”.   Need I tell you exactly what happened?

Little Cali was born sporting a distended little belly not even an hour after arriving at the hospital via an emergency cesarean.  Hours later, I stood with friends and family and watched a helicopter lift off taking her to Miami Children’s Hospital as my daughter, having lost 4 units of blood, was receiving transfusions and already lamenting being apart from her firstborn.   The following day Cali had surgery and we breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God again when we received the news that she had done great.

Our daughter was having issues getting blood pressure down although she had never had a moment’s trouble with it before, more blood was needed and no one could see Cali except her mom or her dad.  There were times when I felt like I was on a spinning ride at the fair, nauseous and needing to get off, but there was no end in sight.  However, most of the time, I felt peace; wonderful, beautiful peace.

You see, I believe the entire bible and I know that the rain falls on the just and the unjust.  I know that God has a plan, whether I can see it or understand it and I have faith that He will be with me through the storms of life.  He has been for years.  Specific storms may cease, but storms in general will continue to show up in this life.  We all anxiously await a time when everything is comfy, cozy and peaceful forevermore and that won’t happen this side of heaven.  The sooner we realize that and come to terms with it; we will stop waiting for tomorrow and live in the present.

With God on my side, I can brace up against the storms of life, knowing I have an advocate.  Don’t bother questioning me about His faithfulness because I am a lifelong fan.  With Him on my side, I can face any curve ball that life throws me with the confidence that He will never leave me or forsake me.  Like my favorite song says, “Your love surrounds me in the eye of the storm”.

We have felt the love and hand of God in so many ways in the past few weeks.  We felt it as we held hands with our loyal and faithful Pastor as she led us in prayer, we felt it in the love expressed by family, friends and community, we felt it when doctors used the word “miracle”.  We have received monetary donations, cards, gifts, phone calls, messages, fundraisers lovingly set up by friends, hotel bookings, decals for our cars, flowers, food, house cleaning, baby crib and room finishing and most importantly lots of prayers!  I have probably forgotten something and if I have, I ask for mercy.  The outpouring of love has been overwhelming and our families will never forget it.

So, batter up – face that pitch – Thank you for your prayers for our baby Cali.  She is doing very well and we are trusting God for His will.


The pitcher has got only a ball. I’ve got a bat. So the percentage of weapons is in my favor and I let the fellow with the ball do the fretting.

— Hank Aaron

Mom or Mother?


As the day we celebrate Mother’s Day draws nearer, I can’t help but think about mine even more than normal.  My mother was the epitome of the mother deserving of all the accolades the holiday encourages.  Everywhere you look this time of year there are advertisements for the perfect gift or card or dinner; many choices to bestow them honor.

We actually called my mom “mother” until we were in our teenage years.  As we grew older and I think due to the influence of our friends, we slowly, carefully tested out “mom” and eventually made the switch.  I say slowly and carefully because my dad didn’t like the term “mom”; he thought “mother” was far more respectful.

Today I was remembering how all of our friends loved mom.  She always had a smile, a kind word and a way of making them feel special.  She was very discerning and could quickly tell if someone was going through something and needed a hug.  She was always compassionate and loving, but they also knew she didn’t put up with any shenanigans and showed her the utmost respect.

On a fall day, if we had friends over to play football in the yard full of crunchy leaves, she was inside making a big pot of chili and brownies, enough for all to share.  On a trip to the mall, our car was busting at the hinges with teenagers who weren’t the least bit ashamed to hang out with “Mom Goff” which is what most of them called her.  I still have one of her old scrapbooks and it is full of pictures, cards and even poems that our friends gave to her through the years.  The expressions of their love continue past high school, as some kept in touch with her long after they’d lost touch with us.

How I would love the chance to honor her on this Mother’s Day now that I am older and fully understand how truly blessed I was.  Don’t get me wrong, I knew it then; we all did, but she died when I was a mere 30 years old, pregnant with my 2nd child.  In the years since, my girls have grown up and moved out and away to begin their own adult lives and I am Nana to a precious five year old.  I know so much more than I did then about the joy and yes, even the pain of motherhood.

I know more of how she felt at graduations, weddings, the birth of a grandchild.  I know more about the sacrifice, the beauty, the love and the heartaches that every mom partakes of.  I’ve walked in similar shoes, I guess you could say.  I now understand that from the moment you birth that child, they own a piece of your heart.  Because of that, you feel not only their joy, but their pain for a lifetime.

Motherhood is worthy of honor; it is a lifetime calling.  You can’t quit, take a break, walk away and find yourself or turn off your emotions when you feel like they might pull you under.  You are in it for life!  For those of you who might be saying, some aren’t worthy of the praises you offer; some abandon, some mistreat.  You are right, and I sincerely offer my heartfelt sadness and regret for those who can’t celebrate their childhood.  However, those can begin a new chapter and leave a better legacy and those of us who know how, can help them.  Women everywhere should try to help fill those voids in children who have broken hearts and low expectations with love and understanding.

And for those of you who still have your mother, whether you call her mom, mother, madre, or mamma, I would encourage you to spend time with her!  Cherish every moment because I can assure you, you will be glad you did when she is gone.

I am glad my mom knew how deeply her children loved her and I am beyond grateful for the 30 years I had her in my life.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Split Second Story

It was a warm, sunshine kissed day in south Florida and I was especially happy as I was surrounded by my children and my granddaughter.  I snapped this photo when my husband had waded out to get something from the boat.  My granddaughter couldn’t decide what she thought about that.  She wanted Papa to come back to shore with the rest of us.

Don't leave me!

Don’t leave me!

Weekly Photo Challenge

Weekly Writing Challenge: Dialogue

Poppy and Granny with Ashley (my youngest)

Poppy and Granny with Ashley (my youngest)

“Lee-see-o, Where are you?” I could hear my grandmothers voice growing louder the closer I got to her back porch.  Granny, complete with silver bun and glasses, was easygoing and lenient, but when dusk fell it was time to go inside.

 “Coming, Gran”, I would yell back as I begin to say my goodbyes as my friends also turned homeward.

Inside?  Already?  After all there were more cartwheels and handsprings to be attempted, games of tag left un-played and more stories to hear and to tell.  Who wanted to go inside with two old people who didn’t own a television?

Well, I did.  I could spin a yarn about how I hung my shoulders down and stuck my bottom lip out and lamented my horrible fate.  But, it’s just not true. 

I remember it more like this.

“Hey Granny!” I would say with a big grin spreading across my dirt-stained face.  “Hey, doll baby, what did you get yourself into?  Come on inside and let’s get you washed up”.

Poppy would be in his favorite chair, reading the newspaper, relaxing after his day as a fishing guide and tending to his garden when he got home.  He didn’t talk as much as granny did, so all I would hear from him for a while was likely to be the rustling sound, as he turned the pages of his paper.

All clean and in my pj’s or jammies as we liked to call them, I would come back into the living room and Poppy would make some funny comment.  He loved to tease his grandkids. 

“Granny made chocolate pie”, I would her say in a sing-song voice from the little kitchen.  She would cut me a hearty slice and we would begin to talk about my day.  Granny always listened more like another kid instead of an adult.  She looked at me, right in the eye, when I was speaking and she didn’t interrupt.  She listened with seemingly rapt attention to every detail. 

Of course, I didn’t realize as a child, how much adults can glean from our ramblings if they just pay attention.  Yes, as I shared my heart, Granny was listening because she loved me, and also so she knew how to pray for me and others.  When I reached my tumultuous teen years, I sometimes resented that she actually had a use for my freely given information, but her motives were always for my good.

Poppy, already having enjoyed his pie right after supper, would get up and give me a hug and a kiss goodnight to meet his early bedtime.  As silly as it sounds, I can still feel the roughness of his cheek and smell that sweet, distinct smell of Poppy.

Oh what I would give to spend one more quiet, pie partaking, newspaper rustling evening with them.  I crave the quiet, the conversation uninterrupted by various electronic devices, sharing the Sunday funnies, the hot tea mornings with toast and jelly.

Poppy is gone now and Granny’s mind isn’t what it used to be, but I treasure all the time I spent with them and the memories that seem like yesterday.  I was blessed to have them and I pray that one day my grandchildren look back at time spent with me and my husband with as much fondness.


Mitch Teemley

The Power of Story

The Godly Chic Diaries


The Anonymous Writer's Notebook

Create, Share, Inspire

Jo Ann Maxwell

How a diagnose of a chronic disease turned my world upside down.


Because we’re all recovering from something.

The Meat & Potatoes of Life

By Lisa Smith Molinari

The Shepherd's Presence

Living under the guidance of the Good Shepherd. All of living should be lived in light of God's Word. I enjoy taking life's litte parts and making them practical, yet have spiritual depth.

Laura's Lens

Taking a look at the beauty around us

Trailing Ellipsis...

Pausing Every Day To Find Jesus On The Trail


Let your children believe.

Artsy Wanderer

a stroll through life


Your online source for Jane Austen and her legacy


EAT like an Athlete, TRAIN like an Athlete, THINK like an Athlete...BE an Athlete.


Daily Thoughts and Meditations as we journey together with our Lord.


A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Long walks and dark chocolate

Life as a mom, nana and follower of Christ; hoping to share from lessons learned

This Caring Heart

From a heart that cares ... sometimes too much

%d bloggers like this: