parenting | Elaine Olsen

Part Two: A Mother’s Plea for Purity…

March 7, 2009

UPDATE BELOW…

I never intended on writing my former post; it simply wrote me until I pushed the publish button. That being said, I never intended on writing this follow-up post, but I sense I’ve struck a chord in some of you. That being said, all the chords that I struck weren’t necessarily in tune with mine. I’m OK with that; thus, some further thoughts and, perhaps, some further ones after these. I’m content to follow this chord wherever God leads. My heart is in the right place … next to His … next to yours. Thank you for the privilege of your moments here. I don’t take them lightly; I consider them a gift from God. Shalom!

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“After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people, ‘Don’t be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome and FIGHT FOR YOUR BROTHERS, YOUR SONS AND YOUR DAUGHTERS, YOUR WIVES AND YOUR HOMES.’” (Nehemiah 4:14).

Five years ago, I walked into a local gas station to purchase my forty-four ounce Diet Coke with two teenage sons in tow. That day, I got more than a caffeine jolt; I got a reality jolt—pornographic magazines in full view and within easy reach of any customer. While I was over-filling my cup, I watched my sons catch a whiff of the “yuck” as they passed by for a sniff.

It made me mad. Hopping mad. The kind of mad that stirs a mother’s protective heart and moves her to action. After taking the boys home, I returned to the store and spoke with a manager. I explained to her that I wouldn’t be doing any more business with them until the pornography was removed to an isolated location. At least that way, customers would have to be more intentional about their sin. I further explained about how hard it was for me to raise Godly young men and that this store was making my job more difficult by advertising the “yuck” in such blatant fashion.

I’m not sure if she or the other curious onlookers, who couldn’t help but offer their ears in the matter, really “got” what I was saying, but as I left the premises, I did so knowing that I had sown a seed on behalf of the kingdom … on behalf of the cause of purity. And friends, that’s really the root of the issue.

Purity of heart and life.

My former post focused on how we dress, but really our dressing is only one facet of the issue. Purity encompasses all components of our daily life. Our eating, our drinking, our dressing, our conversation. What we watch, what we read, what we speak, what we hide. How we do, how we don’t, what we will, what we won’t.

Purity is an intentional pursuit. It never happens by accident. Our human nature doesn’t default toward cleanliness. Most days we default toward our fleshly pursuits because most days we operate out of our emotions rather than our will. Purity isn’t based on how we’re feeling; feelings are at the root of most impulsive reactions. Instead, purity is based on the willful decision to act contrary to the flesh.

To walk away, stay away, and refuse the way of a wayward heart.

To follow after, to follow further, to follow harder toward a sacred heart that belongs solely and fully to a Lover who bled long and wide and high and deep for its cleansing.

And until we get that, until we understand that purity is a pursuit rather than an occasional by-product of our salvation, we shouldn’t be surprised when wayward glances and rebellious steps become the norm rather than the exception. Both in us and in those that we love.

Men and women. Boys and girls. Sons and daughters. Nieces and nephews. Grandchildren and the neighbor’s children. All of us stand at risk where purity is concerned. None are exempt from the wily schemes of an enemy whose sole intent is to steal, kill, and destroy. Thus, we must be vigilant in our pursuit of purity. And to be frank, our kids aren’t wise enough to keep to that road on their own.

That is why our Father has put them under our influence, and while I have not always been a perfect parent, I’ve always been a willing one. It is my privilege to be a mother … a woman of profound persuasion in the hearts and lives of my children. At the ages of almost twenty and eighteen, two of them have reached adult status. The others trail a decade behind. Still and yet, they are mine to parent, and for as long as I have breath, I will always go to the mat on behalf of their holiness.

You can be sure that there are others who are willing to seed their hearts to the contrary; I’m well aware of those others. Outside influences continue to interrupt the process of my children’s sacred shaping, but I am vigilant to root them out and to keep them at bay. Madea is alive and well and kicking in this season of their lives.

But there is coming a day and has come a day when my children will walk the fruition of their early shaping. I won’t be there to watch them choose and to guide their hearts as they go. Those moments will be theirs to manage. But they won’t approach them or enter into them without knowing how their parents feel about those moments. Why?

Because in the “now” we are willing to open up our mouths and our hearts about everything while they are yet still with us. We are content to say “no” while others are easy with their “yes.” We are willing to activate parental controls while others are willing to look away. We are consistent with our guidelines while others are consistent with their inconsistencies. We are fervent about our faith journey while others are fervent about their fleshly wants. We are serious about our parenting while others are serious about themselves.

We simply and profoundly are committed to our responsibility as the keepers of a sacred trust—our children. Some days it looks a whole lot like “baseball bats” and “because I said so.” Some days it wraps more tender with an “I’m sorry” or “I could have done that better.” But all days begin and end the same. With love as our guide and with purity as our goal.

For their sake. For our sake. For the kingdom’s sake.

Friends, our homes are worthy of a vigilant fight. If we won’t wage the battle for them, then we can be sure that the enemy holds the upper hand against them. And when it comes to the enemy and his intention, there is never an occasion when he is for us. His agenda always roots to the contrary. Of that, I am certain.

Thus, let us strengthen our frames and steady our feet for the sake of our homes. Never apologize to anyone regarding your personal pursuit of purity and the steps that you are taking on behalf of your loved ones to know the same. Don’t be afraid. Don’t back down. Don’t settle for the easy way out. There is no easy way when it comes to purity of heart and life. Thankfully, we don’t go it alone. The Lord is great and awesome and will fight alongside us to bring us to our final and perfect end.

It seems a long season to get there, but it is but a breath from now, and our God is worth every hard and difficult intention that we walk in our “current” for his name’s sake.

Keep to it, friends. See to it. Our salvation draweth nigh.

In the name of the God who created us for a kingdom, and of the Jesus who died for us so that we could share in that kingdom, and of the Holy Spirit who keeps us to the road until we reach that kingdom, may all glory and honor and praise be His, now and forever more. Amen. So be it.

As always,

~elaine

UPDATE: I can see that this post has opened up yet another issue as it pertains to purity…pornography. It has touched our household in many ways over the years. I know that many of you are trying to raise up your children with the truth of all things pertaining to purity and sensuality. Thus, let’s offer one another some practical resources for walking this thing through. What has worked for you? I will try and compile some of these things for a further post, but I need your input. Write it in the comment section or send me an e-mail. Let’s help one another here. As a mother of 3 sons and a daughter, I don’t have the market on wisdom here, but I have the passion to see all of us succeed at our responsibility of “training up a child.” Let us NOT FEAR; let us armor up for the fight! Our knees are the best posture for the road ahead.

A Mother’s Plea for Purity…

March 5, 2009

WARNING: For the faint of heart and weary worn, this may not be the post for you today. I’m a wife and a momma, and I’m sportin’ a “tude” tonight. May God cover my words with an understanding that exceeds my fleshly bent toward some ranting and raving. You’ve been warned, friends…

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“Your adornment must not be merely external—braiding the hair, and the wearing of gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God.” (1 Peter 3:3-4, NAS).

We watched her walk across the room—me and three of the “boys” belonging to my household. I call them boys because when it comes to the matter that I am about to discuss, men are quick to make that leap into their boyhood wonderings and wanderings of the heart. I don’t imagine them meaning to, but as I watched them out of the corner of my eye watching her out of the corner of theirs, my emotions began their usual flare up and before long, the claws came out, and I was ready to pounce.

On her and on them.

An adult Christian woman walking her stride with some pride and some pomp and some “full of herself” was enough to send me over the edge. She should have walked better. She certainly knew better, and while I’m confident that my “boys” had little intention of having their eyes being inclined in her direction, she had every intention of them being there. Snuggled tightly in her golden Saran Wrap, there was little doubt as to the impression she intended to create. Even though her flesh remain covered, the lines beneath that covering drew a fitting tapestry that left little to the imagination. When she dressed for the evening, she did so with the objective of being noticed.

Mission accomplished, and none of us are the better for the viewing. At least not on the front side of such a moment.

Now, before you think I’m jealous … before you chalk this up to a legalistic way of doing life with Jesus … before you hand me your “this is the fashion” or “everyone is wearing this” … before you offer me your objections, you need to know this.

The reason my emotions are strong, the reason I can say that we women dress with intention, is because I am a woman who dresses with intention. And in a season past, I was a woman who dressed with only one intention in mind.

To be noticed. To hold sway over a man’s eyes, a man’s heart, a man’s propensity to lustfully and heartily sin because my need to be “thought about” reasoned itself more necessary and more important than any momentary transgression on his behalf. I know. Yucky. Sleezy. Dirty. So unlike what you might imagine me to be.

Thankfully, I am no longer that person, but I was, and I know some yuck when I see some yuck, and it breaks my heart. Not just for the women who are wearing the yuck, but for the “boys” who are being caught in the crossfire. And lest you think your “boy” is too old for the yuck, think again. I’ve known men in their eighties who aren’t afraid to approach the yuck and to boldly ask the unimaginable.

So what’s my point? Why go here on a day when you, perhaps, were expecting something a little more clean, a little more righteous, a little more holy?

Because this is an issue of cleanliness, righteousness, and holiness.

What we’re wearing today says a whole lot about Who we’re wearing on the inside, and I don’t mind telling you that when the night’s festivities came to a close, I sat down with my “boys” and had a frank discussion with them about why a woman wearing golden Saran Wrap is probably not the kind of woman they need to seek as a life-partner. Not because she’s not worthy of the love and grace of heaven, but rather because she’s not ready to be their bride.

A woman who is not first dressed as the bride of Jesus Christ is not going to be able to wholeheartedly and fully love them in the way that God has purposed. They won’t be able to love her in return, at least not in the way that she deserves. Yuck breeds more yuck, and what God has in mind for our hearts is a purity that stands in stark contrast to that yuck.

Unfortunately, yuck is the order of the day. You don’t have to vision very far to witness its glaring assault. Not just on the computer, at the movies, in the magazines or on the television, but sometimes in the very places that we tout as sacred. Shame on us for thinking that we hold the market on purity just because our churches, our schools, and our universities carry the name of Christian. We don’t, and it’s time that we seriously consider the truth that God is walking amongst our lampstands, seeking those who are willing to uphold the tenets of our talk with the tenacious and intentional purity of our walk.

Purity is not an accidental pursuit. Yuck doesn’t happen without intention, and if we’re going to truly market our lives toward kingdom value, then we are going to have to be more vigilant about the message we’re sending via our flesh. We are the carriers of an extraordinary kingdom. Better start dressing like it.

So, what do we do? How do get past the Saran Wrap and the fleeting glances that dance their damage into the hearts of the innocent?

We speak our faith to those who sit under our yoke of influence. Boys and girls. Those who are dressed with their yuck and those who are entreating the yuck with their minds. We don’t chastise and beat them with our Bibles and our pharisaical approach to doing life with Jesus; rather, we tenderly and truthfully speak our Father’s heart in the matter. We don’t just make rules; we explain the merit and the purpose behind the rules. We remain vigilant to the task at hand and not balk at the first sign of resistance.

We tell them how to appropriately dress—not with the bawd and brash of lustful living, but rather with the gentle and quiet of a heart hidden in Jesus Christ. We assume nothing as it pertains to their knowing the correct posture of a sacred dressing. Rather, we teach them—show them through our actions, our words, and, most importantly, through our willingness to invest some time on their behalf.

Too many of us are content to grumble, to marinate in our emotional “hot,” and to leave the teaching up to someone else. Is the subject too touchy, too yucky, too seemingly “not necessary” as it pertains to your life? I understand. It’s hard to know how to combat the ever-increasing yuck that is accumulating in swift order. But if we don’t at least try, then we have resigned this battle and conceded this portion of our kingdom influence over to the enemy who is more than willing to seed and breed the yuck at every angle until Saran Wrap is the order of the day and our lusts become the deliberate conversations of our heart.

Time for talking things out, friends. Time to start uncovering the deepest needs of the heart in order to bring about the sacred covering of our flesh. The clock is ticking, and this generation of boys and girls is in desperate need of some training by some saints who are willing to speak the truth in love, and to live the truth all the more.

Would you be willing to do your part? To walk to the closet and open up your heart for examination in the matter? Today, within your reach, there is someone who needs to know the appropriate cloaking of purity. Your someone is not mine, but all someones are important and precious in the sight of God.

Indeed, this may not have been the word you were looking for today. It wasn’t what I was looking for; still and yet, I believe there is some merit in the saying … at least for this momma who is trying her hardest to raise some godly men who will view women as the treasure that they are rather than the trophy that so many of them are trying to be.

Purity is a commendable fight and one that is worthy of my tenacious resolve. I pray that you feel the same.

Thanks for listening, friends, … yuck and all. I will get to my promised post about the “theology of the one” in my next writing. As always,

~elaine

Brotherly Love

February 10, 2009

“Therefore I stationed some of the people behind the lowest points of the wall at the exposed places, posting them by families, with their swords, spears and bows. After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people, ‘Don’t be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons and your daughters, your wives and your homes.’” (Nehemiah 4:13-14).

Some things are worth fighting for. Some people, all the more. Just ask my son.

While driving the carpool Friday afternoon, I listened to my eight year old explain to his sister and her friend his strategy for playground defense should the need ever arise. It went something like this:

“If they won’t leave you alone on the playground, here’s what you do. First, you could tell the teacher. Or, you could just ignore them. Or, you could walk away. Or, if that doesn’t work…

you could just find me.”

He was very serious, and I was humored. At least in part. My other part was internally screaming my motherly “hoorahs” for a son who loves his sister, so much so, that he is willing to protect her from the wild and wooly of a playground taunt.

I never knew the protection of an older sibling’s love, so when I witness it between my own children, I am drawn to the magic of their deep bonding. And while they occasionally rival their passions and their wills with all the red and fury of Pamplona’s running of the bulls, their love for one another always exceeds their momentary sparring.

As it should be.

Family love roots deep, and if those with whom we share our homes cannot be trusted to love us, and, therefore, protect us whenever the taunts of the playground mock their insistence, we are left to our solitary efforts at defense. And as defense goes, two is always better than one, especially when one of the two is bigger, stronger, and solely motivated by the sacred trust of family bloodlines.

The prophet Nehemiah understood the value of familial love. He exposed its depth by instructing the Israelites to work in families while repairing the walls of their beloved homeland. He understood that corporate focus would yield greater results than individual determination. The taunts of their playground were very real and very likely to make good on their threats. Single determination wouldn’t be enough to build the second half of Jerusalem’s walls. It would take the family—God’s family—working on behalf of one another and on behalf of a cause deemed worthy of the potential peril involved.

That cause?

The kingdom of God.

“‘Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons and your daughters, your wives and your homes.’”

Not … fight hard because if you don’t you and your family will die.

Not … fight because you have no other options.

But rather, fight because you’ve got a God worth fighting for—a great and awesome God who is worthy of your walls and your best efforts at protection.

When the Israelites forged ahead in their rebuilding with a hammer in one hand and a sword in the other, they did so knowing that they were fighting for something rather than against something. They were fighting for the preservation of God’s kingdom and for their families’ rightful place therein.

When the playground warfare surfaced, there was no telling the teacher, or ignoring the taunts of their enemies. There was no option of simply walking away from the threats. For walls to be built there must be laborers willing to put their hands and their hearts to the task. Thus, the option remaining for their playground defense (according to an eight year old and according to the prophet Nehemiah) was to find a bigger brother … a bigger sister … a bigger family that was completely and holy motivated by the sacred trust of family bloodlines.

By a love that roots for the life-giving truth that there is a great and awesome God worth preserving and that he is the only worthy gain of our hearts in the end.

Walls will come and go, friends. But God? Well, he remains. And if we’re not willing to fight for the truth of who he IS so that our brothers and sisters, our children and our parents, our neighbors and our friends might live and walk in that truth, then we are forsaking the sacred trust of our family bloodlines.

When we are no longer willing to put our lives on the line for the sake of our families’ salvation, then we have limited the grace of the cross which was never ours to limit. We are tied to Immanuel’s veins. They bled long and wide and high and deep so that you and I could find our rightful place in the kingdom that is now, that is to come, and that is solely within our Savior’s right to give.

When the truth of Calvary becomes the welcome taunt of the playground, telling the teacher (thus abdicating the responsibility to someone else), ignoring the threats, or walking away seeds very little toward kingdom gain. But walking the parameters of the playground with familial love as your anchor?

Well, this is when walls find their framing, families find their strength, and the enemy finds its eventual retreat.

Indeed, some things are worth fighting for. Some people too. One God, all the more. And in case you’re still not convinced, just find my son. He’s got a few things to say in the matter and the faith to back it up. Thus I pray…

Keep us to our walk of faith, Father, both at home and on the playground. Let us not fear the taunts of the enemy, but let us stand firm in the truth of your love for us. You are building us into your everlasting kingdom, where the stones of our brothers and sisters come alongside to build a beautiful witness of your promise and grace. Let us not forsake our voices and our hands in the process. Keep us to our mortar and to your sword until the wall is finished and our family … your family … is safe within its shelter. Amen.

PS: Our Spring study on “Esther” launches this evening. I covet your prayers, especially for the eight new additions to our group–that God would grip the soles of their feet and turn them inside out and on fire for the truth of who HE IS! Shalom.

On the Arm of My Son…

January 11, 2009

It occurred to me today that there will be few occasions, if any, when I will take the arm of my son and walk the aisle as his date.

Tonight may have been my swan song.

When he was a child, many were the times when he would take my arm. His hands belonged to me then. They needed me, even cried out for me on a regular basis.But time has walked its own story, and it seems they need me less. I know better, but for a few moments this evening, I felt a familiar ache. It first surfaced on a similar occasion two years ago with his older brother.

Tonight, I was reminded, yet again, about the fragile nature of time’s existence and the incredible responsibility that God has given me to handle its truth. To be OK with the fact that seventeen years have breathed their witness and soon will require my letting them settle into a son’s memoir. A season that seems to have quickly passed without my notice.

One day soon, Colton’s arms will belong to another. That’s the way of a growing heart. But tonight was my night. Tonight was a moment to take hold and to hang on and to more fully understand that my mothering, coupled with a whole lot of God’s immeasurable grace, has grown him into a young man filled with strength and laughter and the tenderness of heaven.

Not all mothers will have such an occasion; thus, my grateful heart and my joy-filled thanks to my Father for allowing me the privilege of such a gift–

A walk down the aisle on the arm of my son.

A very good night, friends.

A stone of remembrance to carry in my pocket … my heart … for the rest of my days.

As always,

For fun…

A Golden Moment…

November 22, 2008

I know this post is a bit pre-mature. With Thanksgiving at the door, an Advent post might seem hasty to some. But here’s the deal I made with God several months ago. He challenged me to spend my words as they come. Not to hoard them or store them up for a better day; that better day is today. Tomorrow is not promised to me or to you. Thus, I give you this post as it has arrived. I didn’t intend to write it; it simply wrote me and will probably end up being the family Christmas letter this year. I’m not sure I will be able to improve upon it in the days to come. May these simple thoughts be a point of beginning for you as you ponder the sacred worth of a Bethlehem pilgrimage. They are my gift to you. Peace for the journey, friends. Walk it well and find your Peace.

I had one of those rare moments yesterday. A moment that spins golden and breathes pure. A moment that is often easily missed if eyes and minds are focused otherwise. Fortunately, my eyes and heart were prone for the whispers of a better focus—

baby girl, asleep on the couch.

She really isn’t a baby anymore. She is six years old, but as my only “pink” in line behind three “blues,” she will always hold the title as my baby.

Rarely does she sleep during the day. She’s outgrown such habits, but yesterday’s quiet and the drone of the television lulled her into a late afternoon nap. Everyone else was somewhere else, and I was busy at the computer. When I hadn’t heard from her in a while, I went into the living and found her curled up on the couch. Instead of rousing her from her slumber, I gently picked up her frame and cradled her on my lap.

She barely noticed and continued with her ruffled breathing for the better part of an hour. I simply listened and held and prayed and cried some tender tears for the moment. It won’t be long before my cradling of her tiny body will be beyond my reach. Literally. But her heart? Always within reach. Always fit for my cradling, my holding, my praying, and my tears of celebratory and unwavering love.

She’s a gift to me. I never imagined her. As a single mother of two young sons, I never imagined much beyond my survival. But then Billy. And then the gift of a third son. And then a friend who jogged by my house one afternoon. She didn’t normally stop mid-jog, but that day she did. I answered her knock, and she boldly proclaimed to me that God had strongly spoken a word into her spirit while passing my house. God would give me another child. I laughed and said “thank you”… sort of.

I wasn’t planning on another child. We were working on sealing that deal when I began to notice a shift in my body. Something was going on. Baby girl was going on and, now, six years down the road, I am the better for plans gone awry. Plans that exceed my wisdom, my desires, my focus and my calendar. God interrupted my life with Amelia, and my heart (already so full to the brim with love for my family) ripped open once again to receive the gift of a daughter.

There was room enough to love a little pink, and just yesterday, I was reminded of the sacred privilege that I’ve been given to be her mother.

She’s growing so fast. So good and so full of fresh perspective. I see her take to her Jesus even as I took to him at her young age. She exceeds the Christian talk. She’s walking her Christian talk. And last night, as witness to the stirrings of her heart, she made a picture for me. It reads,

“I love Jesus. Jesus is the star. Jesus is the best! He rocks. He is the baby. He is the son of God.”

In her tiny, fragile, six-year-old way of understanding, my daughter weaves a pretty stable theology, don’t you think? It speaks of her love for the baby who shines as the Star of her stage. Not just any baby, but God’s Son who came to rock the world with his “best-ness.” Amelia “gets” her Jesus.

Her words are simple. Her faith is growing, and her heart remains, for the most part, untainted by the world’s insistence to the contrary. There will come a day for hurts … for her questions and for some unbelief. But right now, Jesus rocks. He’s the best thing she’s got going on, and she isn’t afraid to allow him some praise via her pen.

She’s teaching me … to use my pen to script his praise. It’s not always easy to be taught “faith” through the simple of a child, but I think, perhaps, our propensity toward making faith a difficult road could use a swift and prolonged detour to a couch and to the whispers of a younger season when innocence ruled the day.

There’s too much crowding in our lives, friends. We are concerned about a great many things while neglecting the tender pull of our heart strings. We long for life to sing its beauty, but rarely are we willing to pause for a listen. Beauty has never been absent. She has always been singing her song. But us? We have perfected our absence. We choose it every time we decide…

on busy over the best.
on chaos over the calm.
on computers over the couches.
on schedules over the sacred.

We miss the loveliness of a moment because moments can sometimes breathe so singular. So set apart and so seemingly unnecessary as it pertains to the whole.

Shame on us for not thinking that a single moment can change everything.

Single moments are the stuff of eternity. Single moments shape and sharpen and hone a heart for hugeness. Single moments breathe with the promise of a grander epic. Single moments collect and gather to form a destiny that exceeds the temporal and the seen.

I had one such moment yesterday. A single pause that spun golden. I held a child in my arms and knew that my life has been and will always be better because of the holding.

Over 2000 years ago, there came a moment that spun golden for another mother and her child. Months earlier, a friend of sorts stopped by her house and spoke a word of witness into her spirit.

“But the angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.’” (Luke 1:30-33).

A single moment. The stuff of eternity, and we are all the better for the holding of the Child.

In just a few weeks, we’ll relive that golden moment. Some of us travel to the manger with our reluctance. Some with our desperation. Some with our baggage. Some with our eager expectation, and a few rare of us, with our peace. We pilgrim to Bethlehem for various reasons. But for one little girl named Amelia, and one big girl named Elaine, we’re walking to the stable for one reason alone.

To glimpse God’s best. To witness the Son who has rocked our worlds with his arrival into our hearts. To give our Star the stage that he deserves and to applaud his performance with our hearty “hallelujah’s” and our grateful “amen’s”.

His name is Jesus, and he’s never too old for our cradling, our holding, our prayers, and our tears of celebratory and unwavering love. May your couch and your deliberate pause therein capture the glimpse of God’s best in this season.

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel.

PS: Here are the winners for John Eldredge’s Epic. Now before you applaud me for my benevolence, realize that I’ve found a great new discount store in my neck of the woods that carries an awesome selection of books with rock bottom prices. I mean can you say looowwww? Anyway, I went in there yesterday to secure a few more copies and ended up buying what they had left. Eleven. Yes, that’s right. Eleven winners. Actually, twelve, but said preacher man stole a copy! I allowed Miss Pink to pick and here are the results. I’m not going to “link” your name (honestly, too much work for me, and I’m exhausted).

Beth E., Joanne Sher, Technonana, Laura, Denise, Sita, Susan, Lynn B., Stone Fox (Heidi), Sheryl, LauraLee. Congrats ladies. Email me your snail mail (full names please) even if you think I already have it. It will take me a few days to get everything in the mail, and if I see anymore at my new favorite hang-out, I promise to pick up some additional copies. Whew. Love you all! ~elaine

Category Archives: parenting