Parking Lot 3 Emergency and Outpatient Services

So here I am again! Parking Lot 3 Emergency and Outpatient Services CMC Lincolnton Campus. What irony! The last time my family was here my dad was figting for every breath and each life sustaining heart beat--and what a valiant fight it was! Even then, he was brave, beautiful and kind. We didn't know that in a matter of days my dear daddy would become a permanent resident of Heaven--the place he so longed for ans spoke incessantly of his whole life.

And with that...there I sat in Parking Lot 3. The hospital was there. The parking lot was there. I was there. Everything would have looked the same to an observer. Yet, there was a major difference inside of my heart from the last visit to this one. My dad was not there this time. How strange the feeling that overwhelms you in a moment like this. How rich the grace of God in this moment! The last time I visited this hospital, I had in tow several California Salads from O'Charley's and several lidded beverages. I remember the sun shining down, unlike today, as I relish in the rain that I love. It was hot that day, and I struggled to carry our nourishment, my phone and my car keys as I made my way to my dad's hospital room. I was glad to feed my family a more healthy option than burgers. I laughed with Dad as we sneaked him some salad and a bite of the scrumptious yeast role---breaking the rules, of course. My mama did spoil him so! I have never been so happy about breaking the rules as this moment. He enjoyed every single bite. I loved watching him, and I savored every second as I etched his face into my soul--burning every beautiful curve and every rigid line in my mind forever! What a beautiful man he was in every way!

But I digress! Today, was a day of abundant grace for me. It was a day when my Abba Father Who has loved me longer and loves me most made special preparation to protect and care for me. I orginally planned on working a half day, today, in preparation for a doctor's visit that afternoon. However, I felt my body needed some rest. So, I indulged and took the whole day. I never rent movies at a movie store as I am a member of several online movie establishments, but yesterday on the way home from work I stopped and grabbed a "few". :) What I really wanted wasn't there, but there was one last copy of "The Other Woman", so it became mine for a day or two. I am not a good movie companion. I always start a movie in one sitting and finish it in another. My ADHD won't let me sit still that long. I started the movie last night and probably wouldn't have finished it until this evening except that my friend Debby Ray convinced me that I needed to finish it promptly! I wouldn't have been able to finish it if I had only taken that half day. The movie was hysterical and everything you would want in a Chick Flick. There was a scene on the beach with three best friends watching the sunset. As they watched, they stood silently supporting and caring for each other. It included a song by Britt Nicole "The Sun is Rising", and the chorus included my dad's favorite words to me, "You're gonna make it." I could hear him say, "You're gonna make it, Lisa. Daddy loves you" as I replay his voicemail recording to me over again. Long story short, I bought the song and listened to it on repeat all the way from Lincolnton down Union Road toward South Carolina where my doctor's office is. Little did I know how much I would need this song as a reminder in about an hour.

It was during this doctor's visit that I discovered we would be doing further tests at CMC in Lincolnton--my dad's hospital---the one I have only visited when he was there! Really? Why not Charlotte? Or better yet, why not Gastonia since that's where we were? My doctor was perplexed by the stunned look on my face. She thought the timing was the problem, but it was actually the location that was problematic for me. She couldn't possibly have known, and I didn't say. So, there I was. I drove alone to CMC where I had driven two and half months ago and where my life drastically began to change. As an extreme nurturer, "alone" works best for me in these situations. This way, I don't have to be distracted about trying to make sure everyone else isn't stressed and that they are okay. This way, I can just handle me. It's less complicated that way. As I drove, I listened to Britt Nicole  as she repeatedly sang, "You're gonna make it. You're gonna make it. The night can only last so long. Lift up your eyes and see the sun is rising." I felt such peace; and yes...there were more tears thatn I would have liked as I sat in Parking Lot 3 one hour before my appointment. There was also a moment of grieving, but mostly there was peace and such joy! My dad wasn't here, today, because he had made it home! He wasn't struggling to breath. Instead he was with the One who graciously grants us each of those breaths. Moreover, this Heavenly Father knew exactly where I would be at 5:00, today, when I didn't have a clue. He knew how torn I would be, and he knew I would cry. He even counted every one of my shed tears before a single one fell. He guided my steps to rent a stupid movie with a precious song(he takes the foolish things to confound the wise 1 Cor. 1:27). He prompted me to find the song and buy it so that I would have one more cherished reminder of His faithfulness at just he right moment in Parking Lot 3. One more reminder that, "You're Gonna Make It, Lisa! Daddy loves you very much!" And that my friends is not just my earthly daddy, but also my Heavenly Daddy! I have passed that hospital many times the past few weeks, each time refusing to glance at it. Today, was the day for me to return. It was sooner than I thought...more quickly than I would have planned, but Parking Lot 3 met her match, today! I am stronger than I look...stronger than I even think I am...because when my strength is gone; His strength is perfect! (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Beauty and the Beast Without

It was my funny, witty, very beautiful friend Gladys Setzer, who has a way of ushering a contagious sense of joy into every strenuous workout, that challenged me to post pictures of times when I felt beautiful. Now you don't do that to someone with the soul of a writer...even a very novice soul. This person will reflect upon, meditate about and even dissect the entire notion of beauty before it's all said and done. Of course, this is what I did, and now I MUST blog about it as a way to record my reflections.

Beauty? As we are often told, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. How true. Beauty, according to a quick Google search, said it is "a combination of qualities, such as shape, color or form that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially sight." This sounds about right; but what makes up this combination of qualities that prove aesthetically pleasing from one person to the next is often up for debate and always a matter of opinion.

When thinking of "beauty" I am filled with mixed emotions. There are thoughts of gorgeous landscapes such as the remembrance of the vivacious coastal waters, the expanse and formidableness of a mountain view , a tranquil forest that overtakes your being. I recall beautiful moments: the first time I looked upon my childrens' faces, the way a puppy's breath smells as it eagerly licks your cheek, the way a small child's hand feels nestled safely inside of your own or how a parent's hand feels as it strokes your face as you are fighting off a fever. I even recall the look of love upon my mother's face as she stood over my father's grave saying one last goodbye. The love on her face was astounding and so beautiful. These are beautiful to me and make me feel beautiful. These memories alone produce a tangible beauty for me as the remembrance of the exquisiteness of the moment overtakes me. So what makes us beautiful?

Is beauty a number on the scales? (Lord, I hope not!) Is it coordinating the right accessories with the right outfit? Is it a set of bodily measurements? Could it be simply the way one talks or carries oneself across the room? Is beauty the right hair style or the right fashion statement? Is beauty a list of accomplishments by your name or even the impressiveness of ones bank account? It often breaks my

heart to see how America prioritizes the frivolous and the superficial. I am angered by the way our young girls and boys are made to feel inferior because they don't fit Hollywood's image of beautiful (which is actually unrealistic and often far from natural...or even unhealthy in some cases). This crazy notion is a beast that we often must wrestle against as it lies to us about beauty and value.

So, as I reflect upon beauty, tonight, I reflect upon Gladys. She doesn't think she's beautiful when she is sweating and panting from a painful workout, but she is! Her blue eyes twinkle as the sun hits them at just the right Saturday morning angle, creating a kaleidoscope effect that is mesmerizing. The grimace on her face (and ours) as we set our face like a flint to complete one more painful repetition, is so beautiful. There is nothing more appealing than the expression of sheer determination. The words that our coaches use to inspire us to go one more lap and the way each of us fights for one more win...is so beautiful.

At last, tonight, I reflect on beauty. There is something so freeing for a woman in her forties where beauty is concerned. We finally reach a self love and appreciation that is secure and not hinged upon another's estimation. I've heard those middle-aged ladies before me mention this, and now I can attest to its truth. Am I beautiful? You better bet your tail I am! Do I always feel it? No. Not when I look at superficial standards, but in the moments when I listen to the truth...I can see that I am breath-taking and fearfully and wonderfully made, and so are you! So, here you go Gladys! Thank you so much for the challenge. Thanks for making me reflect (my favorite thing to do). Thanks for giving me a reason to write, tonight...and thanks for allowing your own beauty to shine through! You are beautiful inside and out!

Powder Rooms, Coloring Outside of the Lines and Pasta

Maybe it's because I have been six weeks without a proper kitchen, all starting the day after I buried my precious dad (and my hero)...maybe it's because the heat index has been 104 degrees here some days...maybe it's because we work 40 hour days (really 44) in four days that has thrown me askew, but I have seriously been contemplating the concept of coloring outside the lines and the concept of "play" and enjoying the moment we are in(this concept was newly inflamed after a recent conference).

My colleagues and I were fortuante enough to visit Atlanta and go to the ISTE convention. It was awesome and informative. I gained a lot of insight, which I hope to process, store and share later. It was during this visit that I noticed some unique situations. There were homeless people by the droves. Some were friendly and conversational. Others merely wanted money to purchase whatever was their most pressing need at the moment. This sets ones mind to thinking about rules, absolute truths, one's responsibility to society and what is expected behavior in various situations (this mindset is especially true for a Preacher's Kid like me).
The crazy things is, I noticed a lot of situations that were abnormal. illogical and a type "coloring outside of the lines", so to speak. As my buddies and I visited one establishment after our conference, in order to grab some dessert, a drink and have a chat, I needed to visit the powder room. It was quite an unusual powder room. There were three locks on the door and the entire wall in front of the toilet was a mirror. Really? This was completely unnecessary and unorthodox. Who wants a mirror in front of the John? This got me thinking of rules and traditional architecture, what is practical, and what is not (yep....I took more than one class on interior decorating in college and didn't do too badly either). Who would intentionally design this bathroom this way? Why? Three working locks? Really? Was this artistic expression or clumsiness?

Upon returning home, I was alone for a couple of days while waiting on my family to return from their vacation. This is not a problem for me. I love being with people who enjoy being with me, but I am equally happy to be alone. I have come love me...I actually like me too...and Lord, knows that's been a long time coming. So, I decided to check some things off my solo bucket list. I vistied a zoo that I have wanted to go to for some time ( and might I add, it was more than I expected. I loved it!). I also visited a cafe that I have wanted to go to. Shockingly, at lunch time, I was the youngest person there (even counting the employees). There were at least 40 customers, and I completely savored the atmosphere. I relished hearing the older generation talk about what was important to them (house repairs, children not visitng regularly, which dessert was the best on the menu). It was there that I needed to visit the powder room again. When I entered, I should have noticed something peculiar, but my mind was somewhere else. It took me a minute to realize that there were two toilets side-by-side in a single occupancy bathroom with no partition between the two. Hum? Maybe you bring your child to the Ladies Room with you? Really? I can't imagine anyone else being in the room with you, so maybe you get to choose? Left? or Right? LOL! This was amusing!!! Again, I began to think. How unorthodox? How bizarre? How little caution one gave to following the rules or doing what is traditionally acceptable.

I guess I am at that season in my life where I am ready to not color inside the lines. I am ready to not just do what is expected. Maybe eating high carb pasta in spite of a low carb cultural craze is on the menu. Maybe I'll get a tattoo of an elephant on my ankle. Maybe I'll make a child-like tent and sleep on the floor. Maybe I'll paint my nails neon pink (Wait! I already did that). Whatever the case, I am ready to savor the moments, do something just because, spend time with my family and say forget the rules for just one day! I am ready to just be in the moment with no thoughts of rules or concern for what people think. I am ready to color outside of the lines just because I can. Anybody have some crayons?

“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”  Pablo Picasso

Two Decades, Two Years and Two Kids Later

Tomorrow June 20 at 6:45 p.m., Jamie and I will have been married for twenty two years! Wow! Time sure flies! I can recall our wedding day as if it were yesterday! I remember his sweet proposal, searching for the perfect wedding dress, saying "I do" and our Honeymoon in a cabin in the mountains of Tennessee. As I sat on the porch swing reflecting on my new marriage, while my new husband grilled hamburgers and loved how impressed his new bride was with his grilling abilities, I tried to imagine what it would be like to grow old with this man with whom I had become betrothed. I am now experiencing a part of this reality.

Through the years, Jamie has been my rock, my stability, my calm when life goes crazy. He is such a predictable man. I know him to his core, but others soon find out, too, that Jamie is the same in private as he is in public. I have never met anyone with more integrity. He eats the same foods, orders the same items at restaurants, buys the same clothes brands, uses the same shampoo and soap, keeps pretty much the same schedule. He isn't a complicated man. This used to drive me nuts! I wanted him to do something spontaneous or to color outside the lines. Who knew that twenty two years later the best thing about Jamie, for me, is his stability, his predictability and his steadfastness. Jamie is able to stay calm when things around us are falling apart. He is able to make you believe it will be okay even when it looks catastrophic. I have appreciated this so much the past few weeks. The day after my anniversary will be the one month anniversary of my dad's passing, and Jamie's strength has kept me afloat! He has held my hand while I fell asleep, he has held me until I could fall asleep, he has comforted me when I wake up in a panic at the thoughts of my dad being gone, he has been my shoulder to cry on and my buddy to laugh with throughout this process. The boy I married so long ago has become the most amazing man I have ever known.

It is true that opposites attract! Those who know Jamie and me would not agree more! He is my "You can do this, Lisa! You're stronger than you know", "Lisa, you're harder on you than anyone else is" and "How can you be so great and not know it! How can you not see YOU".  I am his "Jamie, life doesn't always have to be lived at break neck speeds. Let's slow down. Let's smell the roses", "There doesn't have to be a reason, let's just do it, because it's fun!" and "Yes, we can make room for one more (insert whatever here)." He is the calm, the simple, the steady. I am the passion, the excitement the emotional. He is the head. I am the heart. This seems to be a pretty good team!

Happy Anniversary, Honey! Thanks for sticking with me through this crazy roller coaster ride of our life! All these years ago, when you were headed to Florida to pursue your master's degree and your love of music with your well laid out plan, I am thankful you saw something/someone that you wanted even more than this! Even 22 years later, I am still derailing you from your plans from time to time (when no one else in the world can), but I think you kinda like it sometimes! I love you with all my heart, and I am Truly in Love with You, too!

The song he played when he won my heart forever! 

Your Low Places Prepare You for Your High Places

It's been twelve days since Dad died, the man that I didn't think could die, and in many ways he hasn't. He lives in my heart, in the twinkle of my son's eyes and in the dimples that my sister and I proudly wear. He also lives in the memories that comfort me. There is no doubt that I will see him again.

Today was one of those days, Buddy! I, of course, miss my dad; but there is also the sorting out of what life will be like now. What are our new roles? What do we do with all of his things? Will we ever need to plan vacations around Dad's health? No. I still have that can of sardines I bought him that no one appreciates except the two of us. Do I need to buy sardines again? How do his beloved dogs feel now that their favorite person is no longer here. It's just the new adjustment to life that knocks you off balance these days. The ultimate question I guess is "Who am I now?"

What an appropriate day for this question. I went to help one of my sweet seventh grade band directors with some tech integration after school. I wasn't sure how much I would have to offer, but it turns out that it was a Divine appointment. We shared and we worked. We brainstormed and are excited about some plans we made for next year...a new year! A year where there will be more excitment, more growth opportunities, more celebrations and more differences to be made! We finally concluded our meeting, but since her bandroom is apart from the school, I was locked out of the building. This was a Divine appointment too. I got a teacher to let me in where I worked from the cafeteria until the end of the day. This cafeteria was a defining point in my life!

As a seventh girl who was awkward, shy, smart and pensive I spent a lot of moments in this same cafeteria wondering who I am and what was my purpose. I sat there this afternoon vividly remembering where I sat all those years ago, who sat around me, the nervous middle school knot in my stomach and the silent prayers that I shared between the Lord and I. I remembered that He never forsook me. He took care of me then.

As I sat there remembering, a Christian brother and pastor like my dad, happened into the silent, dimly lit cafeteria. He showed me a picture of his beautiful one week old baby girl and told me the story of what a miracle she is. He beamed! I loved hearing the story of such a proud parent. What a great dad! Then I received my gift from God and from a brother...he said, "Mrs. Montgomery, I believe in taking care of things in the present. When God speaks to my heart, I like to quickly obey. I'd like to pray for you and your family right now." (Those of you who know me-- know this is NOT a problem for me). He reminded that my dad is in my future not my past. He reminded me not to put a period where God put a comma. He said, "Mrs. Montgomery, your low places prepare you for your high places!" I know this and believe this with everything I am! What he didn't know is that Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, a Christian allegory, made a huge impact on my life all these years ago! As he took my hand and began to pray, I heard him with tears streaming down my face say the most beautiful prayer. He concluded by saying, "Father, Mrs. Montgomery, will dwell under Your shelter, our Most High; and she will rest under the shadow of Your wings." Psalm 91:1.

In this sweet moment, I was reminded again of who I am (or rather whose I am). I am more than a daughter of the amazing man, Ronnie Harstin. I am the daughter of Jehovah-'Izoa Hakaboth---Lord Strong and Mighty!

Not Too Bad, Huh?

Not Too Bad, Huh?

It was one of those days when I just wasn't feeling all that well. I left work early on a Saturday--thanks to some very thoughtful colleagues-- and just needed to get my thoughts right. My plan was to get a much-needed pedicure/manicure and to try to get a handle on some out of control stress. My pedicure guy and his wife, Anna, are from Vietnam; and it's worth the drive to Lake Norman to experience his expertise in reflexology. He is up in years, but is very acute with details. Somehow he always makes me feel like a rag doll when I leave. This in combination with the fact that he is not a big talker (unlike Anna) makes the experience Heavenly. So, this was the plan for, today; and chitchat was NOT in the plan! There I was grimacing and then relaxing as Anna's husband (I still don't know his name) was ramming his knuckles into my arches (believe it or not...it's actually a good thing ). I was enjoying the moment and feeling the constant knot in my stomach begin to subside when "The Plan" changed!

In he walked- a boisterous, highly energetic Latino who, as I soon found out, was approaching seventy (he looked at least 20 years younger). He was grinning from ear to ear, and that grin never left his face during his entire visit. I was definitely the minority in the room which is rare for a "nail salon". I was the only Caucasian female in the room and was also the youngest. Besides me, there were 3 men and Anna. To be honest, I felt a bit bizarre, but I was determined to block them out and enjoy the moment. The Latino man, who I will call Ricco, since I cannot spell or pronounce his actual name, made numerous attempts to chat with me. I was being a Scrooge and only giving one word answers and making almost no eye contact just hoping he would hush. When his attempts seem to fail with me, he turned to others in the room and was met with the same annoyance. He wasn't thwarted and his spirit wasn't dampered, but I still felt a little sorry for him. Being the heart person I am, I was moved by his predicament to engage in conversation with other people, and I felt badly for him sitting in his pedicure chair where he was not making friends easily. Crud! My heart always wins...which means my feet got to take a back seat. Doggone it! I began to talk to Ricco. This is how I found out his name. His story goes like this. He was born in "the beautiful Cancun", he still had a very heavy accent, he lived in Los Angelos but prefers North Carolina and small town life; and he recently became a U. S. citizen even though he has lived here for 50 years with a green card (some may pass judgment here, but Ricco was with the heart girl. Judgement is not her strong suit, and is both a weakness and strength for her; but it worked in Rico's favor, today.) Ricco shared that he had to learn 100 questions before becoming a US citizen. He said he only had to actually answer five during the interview. He said he completed this so fast in English that he did not have to complete all of the other interviewquestions. His reply to me was, "Not too bad, huh?" He, being vertically challenged like myself, told me of how proud he was of his 6'3" tall grandson... telling me what an awesome football player he was an saying "Not too bad, huh?" I also heard of the boat trips he takes on Lake Norman. One of his family members owns a boat and Rico is often included in the trips. To this he said "Not too bad, huh?" I discovered that he was actually a very good soccer player when he was younger. The reason he gets pedicures is because of injuries his feet have sustained. I asked if he was a good soccer player and he, of course, said, "Not bad" with a wink. 

What I discovered next made me tear up and almost cry. When he first came to America he worked at Universal Studios. There his job was to clean the movie reels. He used a very strong acid to do this (he didn't realize the danger at the time). One night, while he was doing his job,some acid spilled on his shoes. The acid ate through to his foot. He said he spoke almost no English then, and when he finally was able to get to a doctor he had to draw pictures to communicate. He spent four months in the hospital recovering. The doctor asked if he wanted to sue. Ricco said with a great big smile, "I have my foot! Why would I do that?" We spent the rest of our time discussing the Vietnam War and how proud he is to be an American. He even told me when he became a citizen he was asked if he would like to change his name. He said, "No I have a beautiful name! I can become a citizen in two days with the name I have now, but it will take two months to become a citizen with my new name.  So no thank you." He made me laugh and almost cry, but he made me proud to be an American! I thought I needed a pedicure, today; but what I actually needed was a Ricco to remind me what is important. Isn't it funny how the times when we think we are giving someone else a gift, they are actually giving us one. "Not bad, huh?"

Warrior Princess Slaying Her Dragons

Almost sixteen years ago an angel with the biggest, bluest eyes I had ever seen blinked up at me as I held her in her hospital blanket. Her labor was easy. She couldn't wait to arrive. I was making strawberry muffins for her brother at 7:00 a.m....and shazam at 10:23 a.m. I was holding her! She was so eager to arrive that she almost made her entrace to the world on an elevator. The doctor didn't have time to sterilize, and Nurse Cynthia helped Meleah greet the morning. This should have been my first clue. Even then, she was full of life and had such a strong willl. She was marching to the beat of her own drum, even then. She was a surprise to her father and me, though reflecting back I can tell you the exact moment that she decided to hitch a ride safely inside of me and to reside there for the next nine months! She grew under my heart and quickly grew inside of it!

On one of my early morning powder puff breaks with a colleague who is my dearest friend and mentor I told her that I thought I was pregnant. I was excited about a baby, but didn't know how we would make it work. I couldn't afford to come home from work. Our son was in private school which left us with very little extra resources at the end of the month; and there was no way to afford daycare. I had no answers, but I will always remember what Wanda said to me this day. "Lisa, your God is not unrighteous to forget your labor of love in that you have ministered to these babies everyday. You pour yourself into them and show them you love them and that God loves them. God would not allow you to care for these babies and then abandon yours." She then did something astounding that I have remembered many times as we have reared Meleah. She grabbed my hands and looking up at me with her gorgeous chocolate colored eyes, she said, "I am going to pray that God gives you a Deborah." I didn't think too much of it at the time, but oh how true this has proven to be! For those of you that know your Bible history you will know that Deborah was one of the 12 judeges in the Old Testament. She is the only woman mentioned in the esteemed Biblical leadership roles of: Disciples, Tribes of Israel, Judges, etc. She was a military strategist and an esteemed leader in a time and place where this was by far atypical. It was just not done. As it is recalled in Judges chapter 5, when Jabin the King of Canaan was going to attack Israel, Deborah gave a military plan that would counteract Jabin's attempt. Without delay the Israelites begin to follow Deborah's God inspired plan, Barak, Israel's military leader, would not even go into battle without Deborah. She asked him to allow her to stay behind so as not to take any of the glory from him, but being a wise man, he insisted that she come, too. As the story ends, Sisera, Canaan's military, leader was brutally killed by another woman, in this chapter. Her name was Jael. So, my daughter was being placed right in the middle of the story of these strong-willed, before their time, cutting edge women. I have often wondered why Wanda didn't ask for Meleah to be like Esther or Hannah or even Mary, but no... we have Deborah! "Deborah's" mama has had to learn to be Deborah too!

Meleah has never been afraid of anything. Her brother and I would stand wincing as she climed far too high in the trees and went far too fast down the hill on wheels that were zooming! She has always grabbed life by the tail and hung on with all she is and all she has. As a nurturer, I would love nothing more than to wrap her in a cocoon. Though she is a snuggler and very affectionate, she has never allowed me to smother her. She has always maintained her independence. Those of you who have raised strong-willed children will understand what an honor it is for God to think you are up the task. There are days when I wonder. You will also understand that there is nothing more beautiful than seeing this child grow day to day. They fight hard, they play hard, they work hard, and oh! they do love hard! Watching Meleah love is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

As of late, my girl and I have had to have some stand-offs...and I have to win as the parent. This is not fun. Breaking a strong-willed child is more painful than anything, but there are sometimes when follow-though is necessary. This is one of the hardest, most rewarding and most important things I've ever done. I have finally understood in recent days why God gave me a Deborah. We needed each other. I needed her to make me tougher, because whimping out at being her mom is not an option. She only has one mom...and God gave that job to me (and I am thankful everyday that He picked me for her). Likewise she needed me. Sometimes when she is out slaying her dragons and winning her kingdoms and being brave and strong, she will get wounded. I am her safe place to land until she is ready to fight again.

One day her prince will come; although, she may be the one to sweep him off his feet. I wouldn't doubt it! One thing I know for sure. He will not win her heart without a fight, and whoever he is...he will have to be strong, smart and willing to lose some sleep to keep up with her. I am not ready to relinquish her just yet...but this fellow is often in my prayers even now for wherever he is! During these moments ahead and as my little warrior princess is on the brink of starting her own adventure, I am enjoying a ring side view as I watch her slaying her dragons and standing up for what she believes.

This Song Reminds Me of Meleah