I Give To You, My Son

I held him as an infant; I hugged him as a boy

and through the years he has become my greatest pride and joy.

I love him more than I can say, his life more precious than my own…

but gone are the whims and notions of the little boy that I had known.

For the years have passed so quickly since the time it all began

and now he stands before me with the conviction of a man.

He wants to serve his country, he states aloud with pride

as I try to sort out the emotions that I'm feeling deep inside...

a union of the uncertain fear, which I cannot control

and the allegiance which lies deep within my patriotic soul.

I trust that my years of guidance will serve as a strong foundation

as he performs the duties requested from his beloved nation.

God please guide him as he travels to the places our soldiers have bled

and walk with him through pathways where those heroes' feet have tread.

Oh Sweet Land of Liberty, humbly I give to you, my son

praying you'll return him safely home when his work for you is done.

Author Unknown

It's All Good

The past couple of weeks have been a bit difficult to say the least. I have been battling the head crud and just about the time I think I am getting better I wake up with a headache, sore nose and sore throat. I finally have antibiotics and hopefully they will take effect soon. Add to that the trips up to Missouri every weekend in February and the underlying stress of Jake's deployment... and I just plain don't feel so good.

I cannot begin to tell you the emotion that is involved when one sends their child into the throws of war. No matter how well trained he is, no matter the fact that he can hit 49 out of 50 shots consecutively...no matter how well prepared he is...mentally, physically, spiritually... it makes a mother’s heart tighten.

One would think a veteran would be a bit calmer about the whole thing. You know… been there, done that, and got the tee-shirt kind of attitude. That I would have the ability to know that the training takes over and one reacts instinctively. I tell you now…motherhood trumps veteran every time!

It is the combination of not being able to call and talk to him when I want to, the inability of being able to rush in and calm his fears as I did when he was little, the simple fact that I cannot look at his face and know everything is fine. Not being able to put my arms around him and whisper, "I love you." It causes a bit of melancholy… a bit of despair…

As a mother of faith, one would think a bubble of peace, joy and happiness would encircle me and I would be like a little girl skipping through the park smelling the flowers and watching the little birdies fly. The simple fact that I know God gave this child to me…for HIS purpose and not my own… that God WILL watch over him and protect him at every turn should be enough…shouldn’t it?

Yet the rush of anxiety sneaks up on me in the strangest places. Fleeting moments where I am a woman wringing her hands in anguish as fear and sadness engulfs me. The reality that he could get caught in cross-fire or be the casualty of a road side bomb flashes before my mind’s eye. Heartache that my baby will not see his baby born… the fact his child will be a year old when “Daddy” returns brings tears to my eyes.

It is during these times that I feel your prayers. The times when I am laid prone on the floor with arms spread wide… crying, desperately holding on to the hand of our Lord… sobs replacing words… and the Comforter comes… ministering… His Spirit to my spirit… wiping tears, whispering words of encouragement, smoothing the hair, patting the back and embracing me with love and peace. Removing the fear… the sadness… the insecurity… and in the blink of an eye… it’s all good.

Jake called mid-way during his travels and can you believe it? He sounded happy, excited even! As I write this post it is day one at his destination. I received a text that said he had arrived safely, don’t text back… it costs too much just e-mail, and keep praying.

As peace and assurance replace anxiety and fear I realize… it IS all good… God is good, He is in control and I should just let Him do what He does and take it one day at a time… step by step… walking in faith… sometimes being carried upon the backs of the praying saints… and no matter what happens He will get us through… for there is nothing impossible with God.

We are off to Missouri so please enjoy...It's A Dog's Life...we should be so smart!

Today we are heading back up to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri to drop Jake off. He graduates 15 January and will be stationed there until deployed. I thought you might enjoy this story. I posted it back in July when I only had one reader...thanks Brother Jim! I posted the cartoon for you! :-D God bless and we'll see you again real soon!

Repost from...
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
It's A Dog's Life...we should be so smart!

Before Jimmy and I married I was a cat person. However, my boys have always loved dogs. Richard was the worst. I don’t know how he managed but it seemed every stray dog in the county showed up on our door step. When he was about 13 we were in a "dog free" period and he had just started the Junior Firefighter program at the local volunteer station. Jake was almost three and I decided to check out the local shelter to see if I could find a Dalmatian. Lucky me…they had one that was house broken and did a few tricks.

As our first house pet, "Backdraft" quickly became part of the family. While he was intended to be a surprise for Richard the dog had other ideas and he and Jake became fast friends. When Jake started school the dog would watch from the front window while "his boy" got on the bus. As it slowly rolled out of sight, Backdraft would head to the bedroom to sleep and watch TV. You would think the dog could tell time! At 3:00 every afternoon he would meander over to the window, poke his head through the curtains and wait - sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, but never lying down.

Before the bus was even in sight the dog would jump up and start wagging his tail. I mean, really wagging his tail. As the bus drew closer he would run to the kitchen door, back to the window and to the door again until Jake burst through and dog and boy were reunited. There were slurps from the dog, pats from Jake, giggles and wiggles, and off they would go. I know from that daily routine why people say, "Dog is man’s best friend."

Backdraft died years ago and for many months Jake literally mourned the loss of "the only dog he will ever love." It’s kind of odd, I think about that dog and the way he loved his boy many times. Most often as I am getting ready for church - of all places. Do I wait patiently enough on the Lord, like that dog waited every day for the big yellow bus to pull up and deposit the love of his life at the end of the long driveway? Am I as excited to see the Lord as I step in the front doors of the sanctuary as that dog was when his little boy walked in the kitchen door? After all, isn’t that the way it should be? We are going to a place where we commune with our Lord. Shouldn’t we be excited? Shouldn’t we be happy? Shouldn’t we look forward to it all week?

I ask you, just as I ask myself, to examine why you go to church. Is it for the people, the music, the programs, the Pastor? Is it because that’s what good people do? Or…are you going because it is there you see the love of your life?

A Mother's Anguish Collides With Her Faith

Think back to the day you saw your child for the first time. You looked into that tiny face how long? Fifteen minutes, Twenty minutes…half an hour before you counted all the fingers and toes? You tried to figure out who the baby looked most like as you focused on the nose, the ears, the eyes…the hands and feet. O and the virtually indescribable feeling only a mother who just gave birth has…the rush of relief mixed with hope, love and joy tempered with a smidge of fear. Exhaustion overcome by expectation and the excitement of the sheer magnitude of experiencing this miracle of life.

Now imagine a law has just gone into effect that this very baby had to be put to death…thrown into a river and drowned. That at any moment he could be stripped from your arms and there was nothing you could do about it. This is exactly what Moses’ mother was facing.

Exodus 1:22“Then Pharaoh gave this order to all his people: ‘Every boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.’

My ‘mother’s heart’ leads me to imagine her pacing and praying…while fear, sadness, and worry mesh with the unconditional love a mother has for her child. With tears streaming, bouncing and rocking the baby boy “Look at him! How can we throw him into the Nile? I cannot do it! I won’t do it!” The only conclusion: to keep him, care for him and to hide him for as long as she can.

When hiding him became impossible she mustered all she had, stepped out on faith, and did the only thing she knew would keep him alive a little longer. With hope and trepidation in her heart and a prayer on her lips she began working on the basket that would protect him. And as his big sister kept watch the mother slipped her young son among the reeds along the banks of the great river.

Exodus 2:1-4 "Now a man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child she hid him for three months. But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds, along the Nile. His sister, stood at a distance to see what would happen to him. "

Exodus 2:5-9 “Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the river bank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her slave girl to get it. She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. ‘This is one of the Hebrew babies,’ she said. Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, ‘Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?’ “Yes, go,” she answered. And the girl went and got the baby’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, ‘Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.’ So the woman took the baby and nursed him.”

What happens next is clearly the hand of God. The baby is plucked from the waters edge not by your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill Egyptian. It was Pharaoh’s daughter! And who just happened to be there…standing in the shadows…with a suggestion for a nurse but the baby’s own sister. The Bible does not mention protocol or whether this little Hebrew girl was afraid to approach the princess. However, she seized her God-given opportunity and not only provided care for her baby brother but a blessing for the entire family!

Can you imagine the excitement as Miriam ran to find her mother and tell her what happened? “The princess has found the baby and she wants to keep him for her own! She needs someone to take care of him, and she told me to find a nurse! Hurry, Mother, hurry...RUN!”

Now imagine Jocohebed’s reaction. Can you see her clapping her hands, putting down what she was doing, jumping up and down a heart full of praise and worship as she heads out the door to meet the person who has rescued her son? Realization dawning that in just a short time she will once again be with the son she thought she had lost forever.

God used this mother’s courageous act of saving and hiding her baby to begin the plan of rescuing His people. She had no idea at that time what God was doing but He was definitely at work! He really doesn’t need that much from us to accomplish His plan does he?

When faced with a situation that seems humanly impossible to overcome instead of focusing on the predicament we should concentrate on God and His power, trusting Him for the way out. That is all He needs from us.

Revelation 3:7b-8 “What He opens no one can shut, and what He shuts no one can open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.”

My Baby Boy Turned Into a Man When I Wasn't Looking!

When I look at him my eyes see a young man; but my heart sees the little boy who during an ER visit for stitches in his chin looked up with terror on his face and crocodile tears in his eyes with great sobs gasp, “I …ahh…just… ahhh …wanna give… my ahhh… mommy a huugg.”

We’ve spent the past couple of days upstairs, his domain during his junior and high school years, going through closets and drawers. His idea…the sorting through of clothes he no longer wants to keep, tossing out long forgotten, broken toys that have avoided the trash bin by hiding in the crevices along the back wall. Pointing out to me the things I can pass along to his nephews, things he wants saved, organizing one last time.

Why do I have this catch in my lungs? It’s not like a hard blow…you know the kind that knocks the breath out of you; still I find it difficult to breathe normally. Just the thump, thump, thump beating in my chest as the time draws ever near for him to report to Fort Leonard Wood.

I’d been trying to get pregnant for two years when I found out that I couldn’t have anymore children. I was devastated and at the age of 23 had a complete and radical hysterectomy. Two years later I was a single mother with a partial education. Over the next ten years…life moved on as I quenched the desire for more children, joined the Navy Reserves and got an education. Funny how God works things out isn’t it? Off and on through the years I had prayed for a child. I could raise another right along with Richard, by myself. Problem was…all I knew was that I was praying to the God that lived in my great grandfather’s Bible.

Then Jimmy came along and introduced both Richard and I to the Lord. First Richard was saved, then me…then marriage. Can you believe it? Nine months after we were married on a Thursday night we found ourselves rushing to the hospital and in the wee hours of Friday morning a security guard told us the only baby doe in the nursery was a baby John Doe. We had a son! We had a son!

I can see that day as clear as if it happened yesterday. I can feel him the first time I held him, I can smell that sweet fresh baby smell just after bath time, I can hear his first “dada,” his “first I wuv you.” I held him for six months straight! I just could not imagine that God would bless me so abundantly, so quickly after I became a believer.

Sitting here, I see snapshots in my mind of pee-wee football, an ATA World Championship, golf, bowling, hunting and fishing excursions with his dad and brother (along with the stories of the one that got away) band and choir competitions, more football, more martial arts…wins, losses, triumph, heart break... I never realized time was slipping through my fingers.

As we had senior pictures made, ordered invitations, cap and gown…I told myself I was ready for this, but then I was still expecting to pay for college and thought he would be home regularly to at least do his laundry. I never expected the Army! We had talked about it when he was in the 9th grade and again in 10th. I was military…it was good for me…but my war was Desert Storm…this one is different, more difficult, more casualties.

As he excitedly talks about his future, about boot camp, AIT, and with a bit of hesitation... the possibility of being deployed to the war zone... and then coming home after four years and becoming a police officer…that catch in my lungs returns.

I have prayed for him his whole life, even before I knew he would be mine. I am a woman of faith, I know God has a plan, He has the bigger picture. We raise them to be independent, make their own decisions and then they go off and do it!

My question is…did it happen over night or so gradually that I didn’t notice until just now? My baby is a man…thump, thump, thump another day closer to boot camp…another day closer to MP school…another day closer to that first duty station.

What is it they say? HOOAH….Army Strong…
Oh my! Army mom!
Thump… thump… thump.

Jeremiah 29:11 “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 a hope and a future.” ~NIV

Pray For Your Children's Future Spouses

One of the best pieces of advice I received after becoming a Christian was to pray for my children’s spouses. My son was 11 at the time and who he would marry had never even crossed my mind. I remembered asking Ms. Lois - oh how I loved Ms. Lois! - what was I supposed to pray and how.

She led me in my first prayer for Richard and his future wife. To provide for him a Godly wife, that if she was not a Christian to put someone in her life to lead her, to begin to prepare her now to be a helpmate, a good and Godly mother for their children, to provide for him a woman who loves the Lord, with a soft heart, who earnestly seeks His will in her life and the life of her family, and to lead them in the path that they would meet and know they were the meant for each other. It became one of the prayers I said on a regular basis. Sometimes a sense of urgency would press upon me and I would pray for that faceless, nameless little girl who would one day be my daughter-in-law, that whatever she was facing right then in her life that God would keep His hand upon her.

I think back about how it looked to us like he wanted to date every girl in Central Arkansas before he finally settled down. Occasionally he would bring someone to the house for lunch or dinner but we’d never see her again. I’ll never forget, he went frog giggin’ - yes frog giggin’ one night with a bunch of his friends and he came home talking about this girl he met and that was it...he was hooked! She gigged more than frogs that night.

When he began using the "L" word I knew it was time for me to get to know this girl a little better. She had been to the house but seemed a bit shy and reserved. Of course, we are such a loud, energetic bunch I really don’t think she stood much of a chance. I began meeting her for lunch periodically and I soon knew that this was the girl I had prayed for - because even I was beginning to really love her.

She was intelligent and had a sense of humor - two things she definitely needed to survive in the Kyzer clan. She was generous, kind, sweet, and I could go on and on. Can you believe she even made sure to include me in the wedding plans and preparations? I even got to go to the photographer’s studio with them the day her wedding photographs were made. Never once did she make me feel like I was just the mother of the groom. It was not just her wedding - it was their wedding. That was just the beginning...

Richard and Cheri have been married for almost 9 years now. (WOW, has it been that long?) They have two wonderful, bright, talented, and lively little boys; Hunter and Gage. Still to this day I could not ask for a better wife to my son, a better mother to my grandchildren, a better daughter for me. Yes, God went way above whatever I could ever have imagined or expected. It’s just like Him, isn’t it?

So today, I am passing on that gem of a piece of advice I received so long ago from my "spiritual mentor." Pray for the future spouses of your children no matter how old they are. Do it today, do it now!

Refrigerator Reflections

Now that I have settled into this new phase of my life...you know the staying/working at home. I am excited to have time to focus on things that used to be done in a hurry, hap hazardously. Like cleaning out the refrigerator - man I should have done that a bit more often! Having an 18 year old son we usually don’t have leftovers but I also find odd things pushed up against the very back.


To this day Jake loves those vanilla pudding cups and can consume 3 or 4 in a matter of minutes but sometimes he sticks an open one in the fridge thinking he will return shortly to finish off the tasty snack. Do you know what one of those looks like after being stuck in the back of the refrigerator for a couple of weeks? It develops a crust and as the moisture slowly evaporates it leaves a hard and cracked piece of disgusting looking gunk. It makes one wonder how this thing could have ever been soft, sweet, and delicious. As I chucked that little cup into the trash I thought about the "Christian" heart, my heart.

When a person comes face to face with the Holy Spirit and accepts Christ as their personal Savior their heart becomes like that fresh pudding cup - soft and squishy. A new heart in a reborn person… how glorious, how exciting! Then along come the trials and tribulations of everyday life. It seems we are assaulted at every turn! Illness, hurtful attitudes from others, words unspoken, deeds undone, bitterness, unforgiving, merciless, vindictive attitudes, and more… in a life lived in a hurry. If we harbor these things in our hearts it is just like that pudding that has been shoved to the back of the fridge. Our hearts begin to get a crust and dry up. How do we keep that heart sweet and soft? We must be on guard and renewed daily through His Word and prayer. We have to keep the heart swept out and polished up so that He can use us in an instant.


So as you read this, please take a minute to reflect. Are you harboring something in your heart, storing up some trash in your soul? Now is the time to clean up...take it to the Lord in prayer. Give it up, throw it out, for we do not know the time or the place that He will chose to use us and we must be found ready.

It's A Dog's Life...we should be so smart!

Before Jimmy and I married I was a cat person. However, my boys have always loved dogs. Richard was the worst. I don’t know how he managed but it seemed every stray dog in the county showed up on our door step. When he was about 13 we were in a "dog free" period and he had just started the Junior Firefighter program at the local volunteer station. Jake was almost three and I decided to check out the local shelter to see if I could find a Dalmatian. Lucky me…they had one that was house broken and did a few tricks.

As our first house pet, "Backdraft" quickly became part of the family. While he was intended to be a surprise for Richard the dog had other ideas and he and Jake became fast friends. When Jake started school the dog would watch from the front window while "his boy" got on the bus. As it slowly rolled out of sight, Backdraft would head to the bedroom to sleep and watch TV. You would think the dog could tell time! At 3:00 every afternoon he would meander over to the window, poke his head through the curtains and wait - sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, but never lying down.

Before the bus was even in sight the dog would jump up and start wagging his tail. I mean, really wagging his tail. As the bus drew closer he would run to the kitchen door, back to the window and to the door again until Jake burst through and dog and boy were reunited. There were slurps from the dog, pats from Jake, giggles and wiggles, and off they would go. I know from that daily routine why people say, "Dog is man’s best friend."

Backdraft died years ago and to this day Jake misses his buddy. For many months he literally mourned the loss of ’the only dog he will ever love.’ It’s kind of odd, I think about that dog and the way he loved his boy many times. Most often as I am getting ready for church - of all places. Do I wait patiently enough on the Lord, like that dog waited every day for the big yellow bus to pull up and deposit the love of his life at the end of the long driveway? Am I as excited to see the Lord as I step in the front doors of the sanctuary as that dog was when his little boy walked in the kitchen door? After all, isn’t that the way it should be? We are going to a place where we commune with our Lord. Shouldn’t we be excited? Shouldn’t we be happy? Shouldn’t we look forward to it all week?

I ask you, just as I ask myself, to examine why you go to church. Is it for the people, the music, the programs, the Pastor? Is it because that’s what good people do? Or…are you going because it is there you see the love of your life?