Yesterday was my birthday. Today is my paternal grandmother's birthday. In 35 years, over half of them we have celebrated together. She went home to be with our Lord last May at age 91. I miss her so. The following is the letter I wrote last year & the pastor read at her funeral.

To my Annedear,

I love you and I already miss hearing you say “hi, darlin’” when I walk in the room. It is hard to put into words the impact you have had on my life. I have watched you walk in grace and dignity and consistently point out the beauty around you. You treated me with such love and I have always known you were proud of me. I praise God for you and your legacy of grace.

I want to thank you for helping me know my Granddad. Even though he had already been with the Lord for two years by the time I came along--I know him. I know funny little details about him because of how you talked about him. Your love for him was so deep and so evident in the countless sentences you started with “George this" or "George that…”. I can remember the time you bought yourself a gold anniversary bracelet. You said “George would have bought me this”. I loved getting to know my precious and precocious Granddad through your eyes. You taught me to soak up every moment of marriage and not take any for granted.

I want to thank you for agreeing to make the long trip down to College Station my senior year at A&M for Thanksgiving. I loved walking around campus with you and listening to you point out every flower and tree by name. I was amazed when you knew the names of the older buildings and pointed out your dorm room window that you lived in during the 40’s. You showed me where you picked the flowers that you pressed into Granddad’s yearbook I felt so connected to you and Granddad during my time at A&M and was honored to continue your legacy there.

I am thankful for the time God gave us during the morning of Aunt Suzi’s funeral. Over the years I have heard you tell one crazy story after another about my dad as a child and teen, but on this particular morning we spent about two hours talking about your beloved daughters. I learned more about my Aunt Sharon and Aunt Suzi that morning than ever before. I loved listening to you talk about them with such love and warmth.

In the most recent years, I am thankful for our morning visits. I loved sitting and talking about my Granddad, or my dad or my sons, always making comparisons between them. Sometimes not talking, just holding hands and knowing there was so much love between us, nothing really needed to be said. I love watching you roll your eyes at your caretaker when she would ask if you wanted an ice cube for your Chai latte. She didn’t know that I always ordered yours extra hot.

Sitting in hospice this past week, I couldn’t help but picture you in Heaven. I have of course imagined your reunion with Granddad, Sharon, Suzi, Aunt Ma, Uncle Thad and countless others. But, mostly I imagine your surprised face when you see the immense beauty around you, colors you have never seen, music notes you have never heard, and flowers even you, yes you, have never even imagined.

I love you and I will miss you, but I will make sure my children and grandchildren know who you are. AND, of course, I will continue to start many sentences with “My Annedear this" and "my Annedear that…”

My dear friend Sunny Kaye gave me this recipe. She brought it to a recent Women's Retreat & I kept nibbling on it all weekend. I saw her leaving with the empty pan & said "hey! I want that recipe." She said "no you don't...it's dangerous." Well, ok. Then she emailed me the recipe a few days later with the words "I share this with warning". Yikes. Scary.

I changed her recipe up a little bit, but it's gooey-chocolatey-peanutty goodness was gone within days...yes, dangerous, indeed.

Sunny's Treats
Layer 1: One package peanut butter cookie mix prepared accordingly. Press into ungreased 9x13 pan. Bake until golden. Cool COMPLETELY.
Layer 2: One small jar of Marshmallow Cream spread evenly.
Layer 3: Melt 2 cups Chocolate Chips & 1 cup of peanut butter in the microwave. Mix in 3 cups of Rice Crispies. Spread over top.
Cool completely in refrigerator, cut into squares to serve.

My change-ups...
Layer 1: Add 4 to 6 Tablespoons flax seed meal to cookie mix.
Layer 2: Same...I mean, seriously, don't mess with Marshmallow & DON'T use generic...ick, made that mistake before with another recipe.
Layer 3: Use dark chocolate chips & add 3 cups organic quick oats instead of crispies.

Don't say I didn't warn you...

"For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." Is 55:12

Our pastor has just finished preaching a series about "the things God cannot do". I think I referenced it below. Anyway, the truth that has stuck out the most for me is "God cannot love me any more or any less than He does today". I mean, I get this. It makes sense...His grace is not on a sliding scale. I cannot earn more of His love by works, nor can He love me less because of my sin. This unconditional love is His character. Why do we think differently? I see this mostly in new Christians or lost people that I talk to. "His love/grace is different for you because you are a good person". I actually said these words to a friend lately: "do you want to get into a pissing contest over who has worse junk in their past?" The same blood that covers my sin can cover yours...whatever that sin is...yesterday, today & tomorrow. The mountain He moved for me is no smaller than the mountain He can move for you.

I thought about this unconditional love just the other day when Jude Henry's Mother's Day Out teacher caught me in the hallway & gave me a blow-by-blow about how he had smacked some kid in his class. I have learned this year that this teacher is somewhat dramatic and loves to talk and (ugh) give advice. My attitude with her is NOT the best...most of the time I am thinking "look, lady, he is my third boy, he is rough, do whatever you have to do to discipline him, just let me have my MDO in peace." It is hard for me to not roll my eyes...Lord, forgive me...I'm rude.

1) Jude was "bad" that day, and 2) I was sick of hearing about it in the middle of the church hallway. Do I love Jude any less because he beat the crap out of some kid? Do I love him less because his poor choices are a reflection on me? Absolutely not. I couldn't love that baby boy more or less if I tried. My love for him has been the same since I found out he was growing inside me. My love for him is immeasurable and always will be. I think God's love is exactly like this. The bible says that we can grieve the Spirit when we sin, but does He love us less? Our pastor has said that God cannot be disappointed, because He already knows what our choices will be. Even knowing that I am about to be disobedient, He loves me the same.

Brad and I both have loved the verse in James that says "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights who does not change like shifting shadows." Praise the Lord because He cannot change. He loves me (AND you) period.

(Brad would like it noted that "pissing contest" is not ladylike language. I know, I know...just trying to keep it real. Sorry Honey, from now on I will only refer to said contests when referring to bathroom clean-ups.)

Little late on this post...just trying to keep within the character of my blogging personality.

Our precious Jude Henry's third birthday was February 26th. I was coordinating a women's retreat for our church that weekend, so it was the first time ever I wasn't actually with one of my sons on his birthday. :( The Wednesday night before I asked a wonderful friend (with 4 boys) to skip church & join us at ChickfilA. Chicken, presents, cake...an hour & a half later we had celebrated Jude.
Jude Henry is our baby. I can't believe he is three. He is big & potty trained & carrying on real conversations with interesting topics such as animals, police cars, pooping, & what foods are his "fay-frits". He is a funny little guy and I can't imagine life without him.
He was born at 38 weeks...I kept telling my obgyn that I was late. He wasn't buying it. Both John & Jack were born at 37...I guess Jude Henry needed one more week. I knew he was a boy...I just knew it. I had his name in my heart for a few years. Jude was a disciple of Jesus & we love the book of the Bible...it contains warnings for the body & encouragement toward intimacy. I love verse 2 "may mercy and peace and love be multiplied to you". (This is part of the greeting of the book...why don't we greet each other like this?) Since Jude's birth, I have thought often of my future daughter-in-laws...or daughters-in-law...I don't know how to properly say that...). I guess that is a blog entry for another day. Henry is my maternal grandfather's name. I almost always call him Jude Henry, or just Henry, or Juder Bear, or...I could go on.
My baby years with Jude were so much different that the big boys. With John, I was a freaked out first time mom. With Jack, I had a two year old at home & felt like I had two babies. With Jude Henry, I had learned that baby years go by too fast & I took my time relishing every moment. I wanted to slow down & not take myself too seriously.
Jude is funny & tough. He is quick to copy his brothers' words & actions. He loves books & cuddling. He loves his Baby Bear that his Aunt Carrie gave him. He loves "peanut buddah jerry" sandwiches. He loves his daddy fiercely and asks for him repeatedly throughout the day.
I pray Jude learns who he is in Christ. God no longer calls him servant, but calls him friend. His heavenly Daddy is bigger & stronger & loves him more deeply than Brad & I ever could. He has been made without fear & has courage in his heart. We can't wait to see what this little tough guy will become, and we have confidence in the One with the plans. Thank you, God, for Jude.