And I Just Want to Thank You

As I was talking to God last night, thanking Him for everything He has blessed us with, I started to tell Him about Jake. Now, obviously I know He knows ALL about Jake. But as I was going through everything, I just had to write it down. Before I write down my thoughts that I shared with God, I just want to explain something. I don't think I've ever really said a rigid prayer, other than the Lord's Prayer. I remember in Sunday school when I was younger we talked about prayer. I can't remember who was my teacher then, but some of us were asking "How do you pray? Is there a way to pray?" Part of the response was to in fact look back on the Lord's Prayer as an example. But then I remember the teacher telling us to just talk to Him like He's a friend, sitting right in front of us. He doesn't care how you pray, He just wants to hear from you. As often as possible. In the past year or two, I feel I've come closer to knowing God. And I'm not as uncomfortable saying it. Yes, I'll admit, though I'm a Christian, the act of talking about Him publicly made me want to change the subject. Psh...that was something done in church, right? I do still refrain at times, however, just because in certain situations I know there could be a debate. And it's not so much that I don't want to speak for Him and the Word, it's more that I know that I'm not educated enough on the subject to give a valid argument. But on here I can talk about Him all I want!
So back to the prayer. As I said, I don't go about it in a set "prayer." I kind of more, well, ramble...and let the thoughts of blessings and needs come. As I was thinking on how Jake was so sweet and cuddly yesterday, I began thanking the Lord for sending him to us and went on to thank Him for allowing me to have the privilege of watching him grow and develop. It really amazes me sometimes just watching him move about and learn. It seems every day he catches a new bunch of words out of no where and I think back and try to figure out where he'd heard them. You know the theory that if the children are quiet they're up to no good? Well, yes, a lot of times that is true here. But other times I realize he's quiet and I go and check on him, only to find him playing, usually talking to himself. I remember we used to hand him his phone and tell him "It's for you," and he might look at it then put it down. Then he began adding "hello" and "buh-bye!" to the conversation. Now he has whole conversations with "Papaw" when he's supposed to be cleaning up his toys! And speaking of, well, speaking...he's getting so articulate now and ALMOST has full sentences. He asks, "What's dat?" and if we don't know what he's talking about, he'll point to "dat" and say, "What's dat right dare?" to be more specific.
My little boy is growing up, and it's a bittersweet feeling. I don't like it, because he's becoming less and less a little boy I can cuddle and will fall asleep on my chest. Yet at the same time it is so astounding watching his mind work when he hears a noise and wants to know what it is or when he looks toys over to see how they work. It almost hurts to think about someone not getting the chance to experience all of this, and it's even worse when I hear of people who don't WANT to experience this. It is one of the greatest blessings God has given me...has given the both of us in this life and one that has forever made me grateful for each and every day.

And They Say...She's so Lucky

Something happened tonight that made me stop for a moment, but then after I thought about it a bit, a smile spread across my face from ear to ear. Well, not really from ear to ear, because my lips don't go that far, and if they did then I'd have a really big mouth, but I digress...
I was walking in Walmart tonight, heading back up front to the checkout, when a party of three girls were walking towards me. Now, I was clad in flip-flops, jeans, and a T-shirt that had the word "Lucky" written across it. The girls were each dressed in a not-so-wide range of grunge-punk-chic of torn off Daisy Duke shorts with half their butts hanging out and torn '80's-style T-shirts that were off the shoulder. Lots of make-up and chunky, cheap costume jewelry finished off their "style." I tell you this because as I'm walking by them, minding my own business, I happen to hear one of them say none-too-softly and rather scoffingly to her friends, "Yeah, she's REAL lucky."
At first, I was appalled. What the heck?! What makes you think that you know me enough to think otherwise? What was it about my appearance that made them think they were any better than me? Look at what they were wearing! Look at how they acted! What gave them the right to judge me?
After all that rushed through my brain in about half a second, I had a different thought process. You know what...I AM real lucky. I have a huge loving family that would support me with just about anything (I think they may cut the line at murder and grand larceny and the like). I have two of the absolute BEST parents in the world who have molded me into who I am today, teaching me good morals to live by and showing me in everything they have done just how much they love me. Four older brothers who have been, are, and will be there for me (physically, emotionally, spiritually...all the "ally"s) whenever I need them. I have a loving husband who...well...loves me and is my rock and best friend. I have friends around me. I have a decent job and one on the side to help with extra money (which, let's face it...in this economy people have to take what they can get...IF they can get it!). Mike and I are financially sound enough to own our own home. I have food in my belly and clothes on my back.
Lucky? Oh, no. I'm not lucky. I am truly blessed!