When I speak at an Event and sell copies of my book, No Ordinary Child: Unlocking the Leader Within Your Child, state law declares that I have to acquire a seller’s permit and pay tax on any sales that come to my book table.  Sigh.  So, after paying the editor, the publisher, the printer, the shipping costs, the art guy, the accountant, the computer tech, the gas and/or airfare to get to the Event, the booth rental where we sell our books and family resources, the hotel room where we sleep to attend the event, the overpriced food we eat while we’re on the road, the advertising, - need I go on????  I could! Did I mention the tax portion I also paid to each of the above? Then, the state insists upon carving their chunky slice of the pie on each and every sale of each and every item.  (Can you see why I’m getting so filthy rich?!?!?!  I envy the lifestyle I’m supposedly living )  Since I’m new to the state of California, I recently learned a new lesson - I must confess - the hard way.  Tax is due and payable 30 days after the event.  30 DAYS????  Eee gads. 

That barely gave me time to get packed up, get home, unpack and conquer the laundry pile that had been accumulating, go to the grocery store to buy food for the starving family awaiting me and plan the next meal, correct their math papers and other homework done while I was away, go through the mail and answer its demands, buy the gift card for the baby shower and sign the card meaningfully AND address the card and find a stamp, get to church for prayer meeting, host a dinner party, buy the birthday present for whoever, prepare for the out-of-town house guests’ impending visit, create the lesson plans and chore charts for the new school year, work through the pile of paperwork and deadlines for next year’s speaking events, tally up the taxable sales from the recent Event and read the fine print on the back of the tax form. 

Before I knew it…I was late. Gulp.  The ’self-explanatory, easy-to-file form’ stupefied me.  I get dizzy trying to interpret the legalese on forms.  I’m not wired for forms!  When I approach a form with a black pen that cannot be erased, I begin to hyperventilate.  Ask my husband.  I figured by the time I translated this particular form into common layman’s English, I could be jailed for tax evasion.  OMGosh.  I held my breath and dialed the phone number on the top of the form, waiting for the Gestapo to answer my call.  I entered the maze of “press 1 for…press 8…press 29….hold for 30 minutes with a smile on your face and listen while the recording tells you all the other things you might owe tax on”…Suddenly…drum roll please…’*Bob’ announced his presence. 

Bob wasn’t the kind of guy who ‘comes out to meet you’.  I apologized at the outset for being challenged by forms, new to the California state system, and in dire need of assistance to get my taxes paid QUICK before I’m arrested.  I heard no mercy in his tone.  All business.  Strictly business.  As I asked him to walk me thru the form’s copious ‘blanks’ and confusing instructions, he became frustrated (although I must say Bob struck me as a perpetually frustrated man from the moment we ‘met’).  His voice tightened.  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!” he bellowed.  His irritation intensified with my continued uncertainty and confusion.  His indignation exacerbated my form-paralysis.  I became utterly incapacitated by his irascibility, which further annoyed him. 

Suddenly profanity escaped his lips as he declared that he DID NOT create the %#*! form and would I “just fill in the blanks as it’s perfectly self-explanatory” and then accused me of “making it 10 times harder than it was!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  I had to agree with him on that point, but I gently reminded him that I had initially warned him of my tax-form-challenged personality and I was appealing for his help.  I said, “Bob, I bet there’s been something you had to do for the first time and you were really nervous and stressed about it and you needed help.  I’m just not a tax-wired-sorta person”.  I felt faint.  I was shaking and laughing all at the same time.  I desperately longed to hang up the phone and find relief, but alas I was stuck.  He had me over a barrel.  He had my social security number and all my personal details.  HE COULD FIND ME!  aRGHghghahaahhh! “LADY, if you’re gonna do business in the state of California”, he barked, “you better get a tax chart and figure this stuff out or, or, or…(crucifixion? guillotine? jury trial?) .  I assured him I would do just that.

I was really tempted to register this incident on the handy-dandy little blue form included in my packet, entitled, “How Are We Doing?” where I could have detailed to the management Bob’s bad-boy behavior and discrimination against me, a poor, over worked and over taxed, numbers-and-forms-challenged individual entirely humiliated and abused by this ‘civil servant’.  But I decided to give him a break. After all, each of us has been in a place of utter frustration with someone, somewhere, and at a weak moment expressed that frustration in an ill-tempered manner.  I imagine I’m one customer he won’t soon forget.  Giggle.

*The name has been changed to protect the guilty!

My son phoned the other day to ask about making gravy.  He’d picked up a second-hand crock pot and  cooked a beef roast with vegetables in broth.  A few days later, he’d also cooked a chicken in the crock-pot.  I was impressed!

Well, he got me thinking.  With the leaves turning and the the days growing shorter…what’s more comforting than the smell of simmering delicacies wafting from the kitchen when you walk inside from the brisk autumn air? 

So…I pulled out the crock pot.  I threw in a frozen-rock-solid arm roast, a large can of tomatoes and a huge container of Mexican salsa and stewed that baby all day.  Levi made his famous fresh salsa, Seth made his delightful stir-fried sweet peppers and onions and we built some amazing fajitas with tortillas, the shredded roast, sliced black olives, guacamole, refried beans, chopped lettuce, grated cheese and sour cream.  Mmmm….

My favorite thing about crock pots is getting dinner started early in the morning and forgetting about it all day until it’s time to put everything together.  Cheap cuts of beef grow perfectly tender and juicy and chickens create the most amazing juices.  Have fun and let us know if you have a special favorite crock pot dish at your house.

are tools God can use.  Recently I was bustling about to get out the door to a coffee appointment with a new friend.  I always seem to cut it close on time and I wanted to take ‘breakfast’ with me - when I thought that perhaps she’d like something to eat too.  My habit is to prepare a slice of Ezekiel bread toast with almond butter and honey, wrap it up and take it along to the coffee shop, where there are rarely many healthy food choices, as I don’t like having coffee on an empty stomach.   I thought well, I don’t know if she’ll like it, but I’ll throw in two slices just in case…

I got a little fancy and brought a banana to slice on top - (which is aMAZing! you really ought to try it.)  I also thought “I want to pay for the coffee” which I gladly insisted upon doing, and I actually had some cash stuffed in my purse this time - whoo hoo. 

You’d have thought she won the lottery…she’d overslept, hadn’t eaten (and loves Ezekiel toast and almond butter), was running across town, had no cash on her…we’ve all been there.  God allowed me the amazing privilege of expressing His tangible love in precisely her language.   My thoughts had created her bounty.  Acting on these thoughts cost me very little, but provided a feast for one whom God saw really needed to be cared for on that particular day.  Don’tcha love it when you actually DO the positive things that cross your mind?  It’s easy to dismiss the good ideas that pop into our heads.

Websters defines Elixir as ‘a supposed remedy for all ailments’.  Well, Ezekiel toast with almond butter and sliced banana with a grande’ latte is surely not a cure-all, but on this particular morning it seemed to serve as true comfort food…

God is good.

Many years ago while living in the Pacific Northwest, we stumbled upon a talented guitarist/vocalist, who happens to be blind, performing at our city’s annual festival.  He was well known in the region due to his style and giftedness.  We enjoyed listening as he played and sang, and at the time our son Benjamin, a dedicated musician himself who’s just released his first worship cd (see www.denisemira.com for details) was in his early teens.  Well, if you know much about musicians, you know they spoke the same language and Steve instantly became one of Ben’s musical heroes.  Through a series of unplanned circumstances, these two artists recently connected again and what a treat it was last weekend (during my surprise trip to Seattle) when Steve invited Ben to join him on stage at a local venue, gave him the mic and unleashed him to  play and sing whatever Ben liked.  It was one of those times when God kisses our kids’ lives with what I like to call a very special happy surprise that only he can arrange.  I was like a pig in mud as I drank in the moment….

• OK - as promised I’m gonna ‘dish’ on the highlights of my surprise trip to Seattle last weekend… 
• Little did I know that it would include only THE MOST AMAZING surprise engagement proposal that I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing -  establishing the happy fact that we shall welcome yet another precious daughter into our family (she’s already in our hearts ). Most joyous congratulations Jared and Heather!  
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HUBBY was departing for Seattle Friday morning for a ministry trip and I wasn’t planning to accompany him this time…then suddenly while lying in bed one night, I felt the sense that I needed to make an attempt to join him at the last minute - which is tricky with plane fares, managing the kids’ stuff, school schedules…I really didn’t imagine it was gonna happen, but I awoke with the determination to at least give it a try.  I mustered my courage and began the process and with the help of my beloved man Gregory, all the ‘lights turned green’ so to speak, and here I am sitting at the computer in the beautiful Pacific Northwest after a most exhilarating, blessed and satisfying weekend.  That’s me surprising my third-born Jared (one who rules) Christopher (Christ bearer) at his workplace in the middle of the day on Friday - such fun!  That was only the first of several surprises I’ll be sharing from the weekend, so stay tuned for more from Seattle….

As much as I love being a mom, mothering is filled with stuff I’d rather not do, because I much prefer peace and ease to hostility and battle.  But if we as moms and dads want to create a revolution in our homes with our families, we have to swim against the current which takes constant effort, with firm intention, toward the vision God’s given us.  Recently - perhaps a bit weary of standing firm, I realized how much I’d rather avoid:

1. bracing myself against the strong and persistent will of children who are pushing me to approve, disapprove, change my verdict, allow unallowables, bend, stop, start, begin, end or anything else we aren’t in agreement on at the moment.
2. grounding my kids from fun events and activities after difficult moments of conflict because it’s effective leverage toward future peace on the home front.
3. feeling like the ‘enemy’ when I really want to be the chum.
4. making them, despite their obvious displeasure, eat the foods they’d rather not eat so they can appreciate all the food groups and grow accustomed to healthy, creative and diverse foods to build strong bodies and to be prepared for whatever the future holds.
5. not buying them things they really want that I really could afford to pay for, because they need to earn the money themselves so they’ll understand the value of the dollar.  This usually means a looong….waaait for them to achieve their lofty goal.
6. consistently insisting on their regular and strenuous physical, mental, fiscal and spiritual exercise to help them develop life patterns that will bring them prosperity and success for their futures.

It ain’t easy, but it’s gotta be done.  And, someday they’ll love me for it. 

March on Mommas.

I swore I’d never be a housewife.  I viewed them as trodden-down, frumpy, boring, uneducated individuals who couldn’t be much of anything else.  Invisible beings without much of a future.  Gloria Steinem’s gospel had truly gotten hold of my heart.  Hee haw.  Then, God’s joke on me - I became one!  Thankfully I wouldn’t settle for seeing myself as merely a housewife, but chose rather to aspire to carrying His eternal purpose in my home, with my family, believing my call to be much greater than a glorified maid.  Nonetheless, anyway you stack it, homemaking is filled with so much toil! 

I just spent the better part of two hours creating lunch ad infinitum.  I sliced onions, tomatoes, avocado and cleaned 3 heads of lettuce for now and for later.  Then, during the process of sandwich prep, noticing so many things that needed doing, I did them.  You know the drill.  I cleaned out some old, wilty stuff.  Re-packaged some new stuff so it would be airtight.  Peeled and froze some ‘turning’ bananas.  Unloaded the dishwasher.  Loaded the dishwasher.  Sorted thru junkmail and shredding paraphernalia.  Made coffee after lunch for hubby and me. Wiped counters and dried counters.  Stuffed another ice bag for Seth’s sore ankle.  Cleaned the coffee maker.  I’m still in my pajamas and it’s afternoon, yet, I haven’t stopped since early this morning.  March on, Mom.  Your task is a noble one.  Helen Keller said this, “I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble”.

…is something I rarely pondered while raising my children.  As a mother hen hovering over my five little charges, content to hold all my precious sons under my wings…the thought of geographical separation was only a fleeting, unemotional flicker on the big-screen of my very full life.

But now my reality parallels Abigail Adams poignant words as she longed for her children while she was detained in Europe with her husband John, just after the Revolutionary War.  “My body is in one place, but my soul is in another.”  She had none of her children with her during her extended time away in France and London, bless her heart, and though I’m fortunate to still hold my two youngest under and around my wings (they’re quickly growing into men, so hovering isn’t exactly the right term!) the vacuum I feel some days as I pine for my oldest children is a new pain I had never considered in the busyness of my first two decades of mothering.

 Picking them up at the airport is a thrill, but what I really want is to have ‘em pop in and raid the fridge, watch football with Daddy on long, lazy Saturday afternoons in my living room, go help them do ‘whatever’ around their homes  and enjoy feeding  them mountains of eggs with tasty  biscuits and gravy on Sunday mornings.  I want to hear them ‘boxing’ over their strongly-held opinions - we are most definitely a family with firm beliefs - and see their Daddy take ‘em to the carpet and pin ‘em to the floor while the rest of us laugh out loud as I look for the camera.

 I want to take my girl to get a pedicure on a sunny day after we stop and grab our favorite coffee treat.  I want to hear her heart, her dreams and benefit from her inner storehouse of godly wisdom and encouragement.  I want her to help me pick out clothes and other stuff ’cause she’s got great taste.

Tears come easily when I fondly think of such precious moments.  For now, I have to content myself with living in prayer for my grown children, since the distance prevents me from dropping off soup when they’re sick.  Calling, texting and emailing…sharing hearts electronically - whodathunkit?! - has to replace so much hands-on stuff I’d rather do.  Turning a worry into a prayer is surely the best practice for us long-distance moms. 

We press on..always looking for Him in all these things and knowing He has such happy surprises for all of us if only we’ll faithfully wait, hope and anchor our trust in His perfect love and plan for us.  CYBERHUGS all around!

…for a weekend visit.  It was so good to catch up on life and meet their little schnauzer for the first time.  We watched a fun Jeff Allen comedy video (you gotta Google this guy - great clean humor), went to a flea market to poke around and ate a fabulous meal out (they always spoil us with something yummy).  It was a bonus that they got to town just in time to attend Seth’s first basketball game of the season (Seth’s team won - whoohoo!).  I’ll always be grateful for the stable, consistent, hard-working example my parents have modeled for me and my children over the years.