A Rose In Any Other Language

I read my daughters' texts nightly. They are not allowed to have their phones in their rooms at night and they are not allowed to change their passwords so that Brian and I can have access to them. This is not an invasion of privacy. This is a safety precaution. They are still learning to navigate life, and we need to be aware of what's going on. So far, they are respectful of this and only bothered a tiny bit.

Then, Hadley pulled a quick one on us.

She began texting in Espanol. Wha--?? I only speak Dora, ya know, and she's way beyond Dora. Weirder still was the friend she was texting with--let's just call her The Sweetest Girl Ever In The Whole Wide World. I couldn't imagine The Sweetest Girl Ever In The Whole Wide World saying anything that needed to be coded. Heck. I couldn't imagine her saying much at all!

My curiosity (and my nerves) were peaked. I copied the texts and pasted them into Google translate. Y'all know what? They were texting homework. They had a conversational test in Espanol I and were practicing. Okay. So, not only do I have a good kiddo, but she's got good friends as well. Wanna know what the conversation was?

My dad teaches geography, helps with softball and golf and likes world politics and spending time our family (mi familia, Dora taught me that).

My sister is very athletic. She plays softball, likes to laugh and is social. She is eleven years old.

My mom is forty-four years old and likes to rest. 

Um ... That's what she has to say about me? Brian gets world politics; Briley gets "laugh" and "social" and I get rest?!?

I've been blogging since 2005. I've written four full-size books in two years. I'm in the middle of finishing my fifth book. Sure, I'm running behind schedule, but who doesn't? I was a regular for over a year on a local news show. I write a regular newspaper column, I write a regular magazine column, I teach full-time, and I speak to various groups all over our region. I co-produce the OKC Listen TO Your Mother Show. I attend softball tournaments and drive to golf events. And the word she comes up with is REST?

But, you know what? She's got a point.

Friday night, I took a book to bed at 8:30. It was glorious.

When she grows up, Hadley wants to study political sciences and behavioral sciences. She wants to work with the FBI in their behavioral analysis group.

She thinks she's so smart ... and she is.

After reading her texts in Espanol, I totally believe she's chosen the right field.

As for me? I'm going to bed early tonight, hoping I can turn off my alarm in the morning because of snow...

Doing Something

Last month, I was invited to a luau. Normally, the thought of a luau makes me giddy because I'm always up for a party. This luau, however, was at DaySpring Villa in the Tulsa area. And I have to admit, I was a little bit leery.

You see, DaySpring Villa is a home for abused women and children, including those escaping from a life of human trafficking. Human Trafficking. It's a very heavy word, as is domestic abuse as is child abuse, as is the word escape.

I went to the luau, not really sure what I could do--the gravity of those situations seemed beyond my realm of abilities.

 And I'm so glad that I went.

DaySpring Villa was begun in 1980 under a different name. It was the first and only domestic violence shelter in the Tulsa area. In 1994, the name was changed and the facility moved. At that point in time, more than 7,000 women and children had sought shelter there. Since 1995, more than 6,700 women and children have been served by DaySpring Villa.

There are 86 butterflies on the outside of the cage.

In 2012, they were the first shelter certified by the Oklahoma Attorney General's office to address the needs of adult victims of sex trafficking. Since that time, 86 women with 30 children have managed to escape a life of sex trafficking through DaySpring Villa.

Let me just stop right here. I want to encourage you to go back and re-read the two previous paragraphs. Then re-read them again. And once more.

Those numbers are staggering and should leave you with a pit in your stomach that someone has felt so overcome with abuse that they had to leave their home and seek refuge with people who are--at the core of this--strangers.

DaySpring Villa is a faith-based organization who depends on monetary and material donations in order to serve those in need. The entire evening as I toured and visited and smiled and contemplated their service to the victims of Oklahoma, Matthew's verses in Chapter 25 echoed in my mind: 

 ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?’ Then the King will say, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.’ (The Message)

The people of DaySpring are in service constantly, literally, around the clock. And they would most

certainly appreciate your help.

First, and probably easiest: Subscribe to their newsletter. You can easily do this by texing JOINDSV to 22828. They will not bombard you with emails and their newsletters are so well done and very informational. 

Next, like them on Facebook. They often put out their needs via their Facebook page. 

I know enough of grants and funding to know that they need a wide reach. You can be part of their reach.

If you feel led to give monetarily, they make it easy as well--CLICK HERE to make a donation today. 

And, as always, you can volunteer your time, your materials, share your wealth, your expertise, you knowledge, you gifts, your talents, your services. If you find this to be something you feel led to be involved in, contact them. They can and will use you.

So, what can YOU do? 

What can you do today, tomorrow, next week, 

to  make someone's life better through DaySpring Villa?

Do it ... they'll thank you!

Truth In Advertising

I'm trying a new thing tomorrow: I'm roasting a chicken in the crock pot. Pinterest has assured me that this $7.42 chicken will taste just as good if not better than the rotisserie chicken that Hellmart sells for a dollar cheaper.  As I prepared my crock pot and my dreams of a yummy smelling house, I was taken aback by the words FRESH and YOUNG. I am sure that some foodie somewhere will be all giggly over the prospect of roasting a a fresh young chicken with parts of his/her giblets missing. But, I would prefer that Tyson take my hand, look me square in the eye and lie to me. I wouldn't think twice about buying a chicken that was labled "Old and Fulfilled Chicken, died in a pasture as he was free-ranging with all of his giblets in tact."

I'm sure that labeling wouldn't sell to anyone except me.

And speaking of me and speaking of truth in advertising, I do still call myself a blogger. If anything this past year has taught me it's this: Things change. If this is life-changing news to you, please do yourself a favor and turn off Netflix.

I do love writing-slash-blogging, but this past year has found me spinning with the changes and the one thing that I allowed to suffer was my blog. In trying to keep my family from becoming too dizzy and trying to do my job to the best of my abilities and trying to keep my head above water ... or at least above the occasional glass of sangria I partake in every once in a while. 

I think--I think--I'm doing okay enough to try and get a handle on my blogging again. 

So, I feel safe enough in keeping my "blogger" label for now ... even if it is prefaced with "old and fulfilled."

Ignore the "best by" date--it's been in the freezer

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