writing wednesdays: a gal after my own heart

Why did I so readily welcome my new writing friend M.B. Tosi to be a guest on my blog? Well, she's a gal after my own heart; someone who has an appreciation for the story of the American Indian and who wants to shed light on the past in order to pave the way to a more peaceful future.

I have yet to read the book that she's giving away today on Peace Garden Writer, but you can bet I'm looking forward to the day I can curl up with it! Head over there to add your comment to the bunch to be considered in the drawing!

See you soon!

mama mondays: wedding memory more meaningful 20 years later

Coming off a holiday weekend, it's a little hard knowing where to focus my Monday thoughts. So much has happened.

The youngest Salonens giving their best Thanksgiving pose

I could write about my daughter's first attempt at apple pie with Grandma, or the layered Asian dip we made together.

I could write about my favorite part of the weekend -- when my son Adam crawled up into my lap and fell asleep.

We had a mini Christmas with the Salonen side, so I could write a little about that, too. The book my son got as a gag gift, for instance (Miss Manners: Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior...National Bestseller???).

Or the purply moment when oldest daughter opened up her Justin Bieber perfume.

But there's something else rising above...something that was hidden in last week's busyness. Our 20th wedding anniversary. This is a photo of a photo so not the best, but here we were on November 23, 1991.

And here we are November 24, 2011, the day after we celebrated two decades of married life.

This does feel like a victory to me. We've been through a lot in that time. We met when we were 18,  married at 23. We've had 20 years to work out the immaturity we both brought into the marriage, and at 43, we're getting closer. We've brought five live children into the world, and experienced the death of one in miscarriage. There have been a fair amount of ups and downs.

But when the dust of the past 20 years settles, some shining treasures glimmer, and I want to share one of them today.

This weekend, Troy and I wrote letters to one another. We chose a topic and wrote in separate spheres, then swapped letters. The topic: What is your favorite memory of our wedding day? Amazingly, we both chose the very same memory.

The wedding dance wasn't quite over, but we were exhausted, so we sneaked away to have a bite to eat at a nearby fast-food restaurant, Hardees, located just a few blocks from where we live now. I remember feeling relieved, because as much as I loved being surrounded by family and friends, the pressure was off. It was just the two of us.

Or at least I thought. I wasn't prepared for the gazes of the few patrons and workers that greeted us. I hadn't planned on their smiles and their desire to chat with us about marriage. Without realizing it as we opened the doors to the restaurant, our mere presence was something of a testimony to the strangers we were encountering.

It's a memory that, for both of us, signaled the moment when we were finally together, just the two of us, as a married couple. Additionally, in hindsight I see it as a moment when I realized the power of marriage; how important it is to be a visible sign of the sacrament. In a time when marriage is being less regarded as sacred, it's more important than ever that the world sees signs of hope through marriages that, while not perfect, have pushed through some truly shaky moments to get to the other side and stand as a witness of perseverance.

I'm going to end with a paragraph in Troy's letter that stood out to me, even caused me to laugh out loud at the recognition of truth: "I'm sure it was quite a sight to see the bride and groom in a fast-food restaurant on their wedding day. It's kind of funny, but that really is who we are, still to this day; just a couple trying to make it through the busy day, not spending too much money, and just enjoying the simple things in life. We've come a long way, but in the lot of ways we're still exactly the same."

Twenty years, and so much changed but so much still the same. I take comfort in that. 

Q4U: What is your favorite memory of your wedding day, or another celebration of significance?

faith fridays: the letter that changed everything

"You should have seen what happened at school today. Everyone was crying," my eighth-grader shared in the van late last week.

I could tell she wanted to say more, but it was just too hard with her siblings all around fighting for air time. But from her expression, I knew that though it had been an emotion-filled day, it wasn't necessarily in a bad way. And then I remembered the all-day retreat. The tear-filled afternoon must have be linked to that.

Once her siblings had disappeared into the house, she pulled out a folded-up piece of paper from her backpack and began reading it out loud. "Listen to this, Mom." She wouldn't be sharing unless it really mattered. I perked up.

It was a letter from God that had been given to her and her classmates. She was only a few lines into repeating it for my sake when my own internal waterworks were tapped. Just a little wetness in the eyes, but how could one so loved not react? This is the stuff that moves the world, not to mention an individual heart.

Around this time last year, I'd just begun an email conversation with an atheist gal my age. One of the most confounding aspects of what she revealed to me in our months-long conversation was her version of God. Let's just say it was far from pretty; in fact, it was downright horrifying. If that had been the God to whom I'd been introduced, I'd have run the other way, too.

Somehow, gratefully, I missed the memo about God being a tyrant. Instead, I have been fed a steady diet of loving thoughts from my Lord and Savior from my earliest years as a Christian. And it's made all the difference.

Words can either draw in or repel. The words God has expressed to me through His never-ending letter of love have been true sustenance for my soul. If only atheists could know this love. It would change everything for them, too. I pray that this letter will reach every last one of God's children, that all will know of their uniqueness and eternal worth. 

I'm going to let Jesus take over from here. This one's for you. Yes, you...

My dear child,

I love you (John 15:9). I have called you by name, you are mine (Isaiah 43:1). Before I formed you, I knew you. And before you were born, I consecrated you (Jeremiah 1:5). You did not choose me, I chose you (John 15:16). Because you are precious to me, and honored, I love you (Isaiah 43:4). I have loved you with an everlasting love and I will continue my constant love (Jeremiah 31:3). 

How can I abandon you? My love for you is too strong (Hosea 11:8). I love you so much that I hung on the cross at Calvary. I died for you, and if you believe in Me, you will have everlasting life (John 3:16). 
 
Can a woman forget her own baby and not love the child she bore? Yet even should she forget, I will never forget you. I cannot forget you. I formed you in the palm of my hands (Isaiah 49:15-16). I am with you always until the end of the world (Matthew 28:20). 

Do not let your heart be troubled, trust in me (John 14:1). I will help you (Isaiah 41:13). When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you. Your troubles will not overwhelm you. My rod and my staff will comfort you. I will lead you in the path of righteousness (Psalm 23). I will give you peace in the midst of a storm. Don't let your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid (John 14:27). The peace I give you surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7).

My eyes are upon you and I will give you hope, for I am merciful (Psalm 33:18). You will have access to my grace and rejoice in hope while sharing in the glory of my Father (Romans 5:2). You may have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your heart will rejoice and no one will take your joy from you (John 16:22). 

Do not worry (Luke 12:9). Even the hairs on your head have all been counted, so there is no need to be afraid of anything (Matthew 10:30). The mountains may depart and the hills will be shaken but my steadfast love for you will never end (Isaiah 54:10). 
 
Come unto me, all who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28). I will be true and faithful. I will show you constant love and make you mine forever. I will keep my promise, and you will really know me then as never before. I am the Lord your God (Hosea 13:4). 

Your Faithful Friend,
Jesus

Yeah, so, just in case you forgot...you are loved. Always and forever. No matter what. And if you ever need a reminder...there it is.

Q4U: Which of Jesus' words of love affect you the most?

writing wednesdays: prairie writing and anniversary

Today on Peace Garden Writer, I'm talking prairie writing. I hope you'll enjoy my reflections! Please chime in with any thoughts!

Today on the Salonen frontier, my hubby and I are toasting to 20 years of marriage. Though our plans for celebration are not of an extravagant nature, this feels like a big one to me!

Troy and Roxane Salonen, Chicago, 2007

 Thanks, as always, for stopping by. I appreciate my readers and am thankful for each one of you who takes the time to regard my rants. :)

mama mondays: adam's alien abduction

Over the years, we've experienced a few alien abductions here. Particularly during winter-time birthdays when the thought of in-house gatherings for a bunch of boys borders on insanity.

The first year was the year Space Aliens Restaurant opened up in Fargo. Our middle son, Adam, was still only a thought in the mind of God. His older brother was in kindergarten, just turning six, and was among the first group of kids to meet the infamous house alien.

Back then, alien headbands were included in the party package.

About five years ago, Daddy Troy chose abduction over insanity for his birthday, and the little boys couldn't have been more thrilled. Tickets in the game room = cheap prizes that never fail to delight.

This year, Adam experienced his first birthday-party abduction. With Thanksgiving bumping into birthday, we had to jumpstart the partying.

The aliens were still imprisoned but smiling.

Adam (r) and pal (l)

The game room and its gadgets did not disappoint.

The cupcakes were intoxicatingly yummy.

Best of all? No mess to clean up at home! (Okay, that perk's mainly for Mama Roxane).

(Love it when teen sisters have their own agenda and won't cooperate for the obligatory end-of-party photo...)

*Sigh...

They were right when they said it goes fast. It really, really does.


Happy Birthday Week, Adam! You are truly out of this world!

faith fridays: in God's lap

This is me around age 7, cuddling up with my first puppy after a week at camp away from him. He wasn't the first puppy I'd loved, but the first I'd actually picked out and claimed as my own rather than picked up as a stray from our town filled with vagabond pups.

This photo depicts best how I'm feeling right now. Maybe it's knowing the holidays and colder weather are coming; that shift from exterior to interior. I suspect there's more to it, though, and not all of it is nameable.

What I do know is that I'm yearning for Abba Father. I'm needing a bit of a resting place, some soft spot to go to curl up and let go for a while.

I'm thinking of a time I fell asleep in my father's arms. He was wearing a Pendelton shirt, a little on the scratchy side but simultaneously comforting. I was curled up in his arms near the fireplace in the living room of my grandparents' home. I recall the padding of his heartbeat against my ear, his rhythmic breathing, and the gentle resonance of people talking quietly all around. It was the epitome of safe. Even after I awoke, I just stayed there for a long while, allowing myself to feel the warmth of the fire and his sure, safe arms before re-entering the colder world beyond his lap.

That's what I'm wanting right now. And I know that this need isn't something any human being can fulfill. So I won't go expecting it of anyone in my life. There's only one place to go for it.

I tried twice yesterday to go to Adoration, but each attempt was unsuccessful. So I will keep trying. Eventually I'll get there, and it will be worth it.

The world can be cold. I just found out last night that my little boys were exposed to a sexually explicit R-rated movie in my and my husband's absence. My heart breaks contemplating their punctured innocence, and the fact that we weren't there to stop it, to guard their precious souls. I know they are wounded, as I am as their mother. I'm still processing how to deal with this.

Just before that revelation, I attended a session at our Catholic high school about drug use in our area. I learned that heroin use is big right now in our city, and that marijuana is 30 percent stronger now than during the days of Woodstock. There are more emergency room visits related to it than ever before due in part to the dangerous rise of the heart rate associated with its use. The drug ecstasy is also showing up in our school in slightly higher amounts than neighboring schools, according to a poll.

I can do what I can do, but I can't stop this altogether, I can't shield my children from the world that awaits. I'm going to need all the injections of grace I can take in to move through this darker part of the parenting journey, knowing that each passing year my little ones are going to be more and more vulnerable to the forces of evil. And that I'm helpless in the face of some of it.

I need to be fueled anew by that greater force that rises above it all, to store up grace that will be necessary for what's next. I need to cozy up to the Creator again, to go to where He is sitting and waiting, and climb up into His lap. Only there will I find the warmth and hope I'm lacking at present. Once found, I can bring it to my kids, and trust that through it, they will find the love I have for them -- that the Creator has for them -- more attractive than anything else they might be offered as enticement.

In Scripture this morning, I read from 1 Tim: 1:5: "Whereas the aim of our charge is love that issues from a pure heart and a good conscience and sincere faith." That's what I'm seeking in the Creator's embrace. And I know that without going straight to the Source himself, I'll get only cheap substitutions.

I'm heading there. I'm on my way. I'm going for the sustenance I'll need. When I've sat there long enough, when I've gathered up all my strength again and can see the clear path ahead, then I'll be able to do the work I've been sent to do.

Q4U: Where do you go for a re-fueling of the spiritual kind? How do you deal with the darkness?

writing wednesdays: creeping column and book giveaway winner

All parents should read my latest newspaper column if they want to avoid being accused of Facebook creeping as I was! We need to know our social networking definitions in order to navigate through this mysterious world with grace and tact.

It's over on Peace Garden Writer today. And to make things even more lively, the winner of the book giveaway is revealed! See y'all there...

mama mondays: good news, bad news

The weekend started out with a bang with our Catholic high school's third state football championship game. Everyone was out of school anyway for Veteran's Day, so the girls and I decided to go (the boys were heading out of town). Good News!

Just after I'd paid the parking and admission fees for the FargoDome, bought an overpriced soda and found a seat, hubby called to say he was pulled over along the side of the Interstate with the boys and his vehicle was smoking and looking like it could possibly be starting on fire. Very Bad News!

So I gathered up my girl chicks and we headed out of town and rescued the boys via minivan. Everyone was okay and, despite the smoke, Troy's rig wasn't on fire (and this photo is a fake). Very Good News!

But the vehicle appears to be toast. Bad News!

Thankfully, Troy's parents happened to have an extra van they aren't using much right now, so offered to lend it to us. Good News!

We got home to the news that the Deacons had gotten pounded in their football game. Bad News!

But there was just enough time to redeem the day by using the tickets I won a few weeks ago for spookiest costume at a Halloween party. Puss N Boots in 3D for me and the little guys! Oh yeah, baby! Good News!

The next morning, middle child had a friend over. They had a blast climbing in the big old tree out front. But then her dad came to pick her up, spoiling the party. Bad News!

A friend of mine came to town and we met for lunch at a yummy Chinese place. The weather was beautiful for a fundraising event I attended. And the boys gave their trip a second attempt, allowing Nick a chance to play his cousins' electric guitar. All Good News!

The boys' exit meant the girls and I would have 24 hours to ourselves. More Good News!

The waiting line at the restaurant where the girls and I decided to eat out was an hour. Bad News!

We had fun anyway. Good News!

I was really groggy the next morning while serving as a cantor for the early Mass. Bad News!

The girls made me proud by helping decorate for a party for one of their former babysitters without me along for guidance. Good News!

Unfortunately, said babysitter is no spring chick anymore. Bad News (depending on how you look at it)!

But the party was a success! Good News!

When it's all added up, there was more good news than bad news. Though we had that scare with the smoking vehicle, all in all, we came away from the weekend feeling pretty blessed!

Q4U: What was the good-bad news of your weekend?

faith fridays: where have all the heroes gone?

If you've had the pleasure of raising a son, you've undoubtedly experienced the superhero phase; a time when flowing capes on backs (towels and safety pins work too), tights and and big muscles rule the day.

Earlier today I heard a presentation on integrity and it got me thinking about superheroes, the epitome of integrity. Superheroes are the ones we look to and count on when the city has been threatened.

The presentation today took place at a local church that hosts a monthly gathering for Christian business leaders. It always includes a talk by a local pastor. Today, after telling the story of King David's fall from grace upon being seduced by Bathsheba (from 2 Samuel, Chapter 11), Pastor Matthew St. John talked about how desperate we are for leaders of integrity; a quality that can take a lifetime to cultivate but an instant to squander.

"When integrity is shown, it's always a contrast to the norm, to the dynamic in which you are living," he said, noting that integrity is best displayed as we move away from self-absorption. "A life of integrity is typically a product of self-control lived out consistently. It's the pursuit of what is noble."

But it's also costly. In the above-mentioned Scripture story, Uriah, Bathsheba's husband, stood as the example of integrity, but in the end, it cost him his very life.

Nevertheless, it's a worthy pursuit, worthy dying for, even. "In your life, what ensures nobility in the world around you?" Pastor Matthew asked as a challenge.

Though heroes may be in short supply, I've been blessed to have stumbled onto the path of many (some largely unsung) in the course of my Christian walk. Each has influenced my faith life in some way. Though this is just a small sampling, consider it the start of my list of fellow Christians who have inspired me toward a life of integrity in recent years:

• Converts to the faith like former atheist Jennifer Fulwiler and Heather King have introduced me to insightful food for thought and helped me appreciate the gift of faith in an invigorating way. They are both thinkers who can turn any argument against the faith on its head, but always, they do so with love and compassion, because of the love and compassion that has been shown them. (Love begets love!)

• Abortion attempt survivors have begun springing up to share their stories and I have found them incredibly powerful. Sarah Smith was maimed when an abortion attempt took her twin brother but left her alive in the womb. After surviving the abortion, she was born with bilateral, congenital dislocated hips and many other physical handicaps. Her very existence is a visual victory. Others with similar stories: Melissa Ohden and Gianna Jessen. These women have given a voice to the voiceless.

• Abstinence speakers. I heard Pam Stenzel speak here in Fargo last year and won't soon forget it, including the part where she talks about having been conceived in rape. (Hard to imagine such a vibrant person not existing.) Now, she speaks nationally and even internationally on the subject of sexual integrity (there's that word again), addressing young people in particular with the positive message of God's beautiful design for intimacy.

• The newly prolife. I've mentioned Abby Johnson before, but I can't say enough about how inspiring her story has been to me. It took an abundance of integrity for Abby to leave her post at Planned Parenthood and cross over to the other side of the fence to begin speaking up for the child in the womb. She put her life on the line and I'm sure it wasn't easy losing friends and so many familiar things, but she did it because she felt it was the right thing to do, and now she's a light to others.

• Those choosing the harder path daily. "Steve Gershom," a pseudonym, is a man who is Catholic, Gay and Feeling Fine, according to his blog. I bumped into him recently through a radio interview and am truly impressed by his commitment to live a celibate life as a man with same-sex attractions. He is doing what Pastor Matthew mentioned in his talk today, choosing self-discipline and the higher good moment by moment, against the norm.

• Finally, post-abortive women who are speaking out about the ill effects of their decision -- including a local group that calls itself P.A.L.S. (post-abortive ladies). I've seen up close and personal their stories of healing and triumph over death. Their bravery in speaking out has helped me understand abortion and its effects on a much deeper level and empowered me to approach the subject with compassion and conviction. 

Q4U: Who are the unsung heroes in your world who live lives of integrity?

writing wednesdays: dear diary...

I'm bringing my old diary from 1982 to our kids' middle school today. Yep, I've dusted off old "Kareena" as I called her and I'm going to embarrass myself by opening her up.

Why would I do such a thing? Find out today on Peace Garden Writer!  (For those of you who stopped by earlier and were brought to the wrong place, I've fixed it now!) See you there!

mama mondays: it's about more than coffee

Several years back, someone who I looked upon as highly moral gave me a double-take when I told him I've been known to take my kids out for coffee. The moment I let it slip, I felt like my skin had turned green and antennas were growing out of my head.

"Coffee? You take your kids out for coffee?!" He seemed incredulous that I would do such a thing. It was as if I'd just announced that I supply alcohol to my kids and host parties at our home.

Uh...yeah...I do take them out for 'coffee.'

I regret that, for whatever reason, there wasn't time to explain that this tradition has very little to do with coffee and that he'd missed the point entirely.

Back when I was a younger version of my self, my father sometimes would say to me, "Hey Rock, wanna go out for a pop?" I rarely turned down such an offer to spend time with Dad. We'd swing by the Tastee Freeze on Highway 2 in my hometown of Poplar, Montana, and have a cherry coke. If I was really lucky, I'd get a heaping plate of hot French fries. I'd make it perfect by squirting ketchup all over the top. One by one, my fries would be popped into my mouth. If necessary, I'd add a second layer of ketchup to the bottom ones that hadn't been saturated the first time around. Dad and I would talk and watch the vehicles on the highway whiz past and the other patrons eating their food and doing whatever it was they were doing. I loved people watching, I loved French fries, and I loved spending time with Dad.

You see, it wasn't really about the fries or the cherry coke. Don't get me wrong; those things were mighty good. It just wasn't about that, though. It was about relationship.

Espresso shops are the new Tastee Freeze. My girls and I especially have frequented many a coffee or tea shop in our city. We've shared countless special moments in those places, and sometimes, some pretty mundane moments just sitting around and enjoying each other's company.
 
A few years ago when my middle son was about six, I took him to one of those coffee shops after a school program. We realized we had about 30 minutes to kill before the other kids would be let out for the day so we headed over to a local coffee joint and had ourselves a nice little time.

Flash back to this past Halloween night. Imagine the younger kids running to the mailbox after school to see if Grandma Jane's special one-dollar-per-every-year-of-your-life Halloween cash cards had been delivered. Indeed they had! My middle son got his allotted eight bucks and added it to the bit he'd been saving in his wallet.

A couple nights later, I found this note and some of his money:

"Oh, I see your big heart shining through that!" I told him upon finding the gift. What a sweetheart he is! In the end, I gave him his money back, but he got a good hug out of the deal, and a used video game he'd been wanting.

A few days after that, with $2 and some spare change remaining, he asked me, "Mom, how much does a hot chocolate cost at Starbuck's? I want to go out for hot chocolate with you. But there's also something at the book fair at school that I want, too. I can't decide."

(Sounds of mommy-heart melting for the second time in two days...)

"Tell you what, bud, you can keep that money for the book fair. But if you clean your room, I'll take you out for hot chocolate this weekend."

He thought that sounded like a fair deal, and he worked hard tidying up his incredibly chaotic bedroom (which, full disclosure, he shares with his little brother). So Sunday morning, before the 11 a.m. Mass, off we went to one of my favorite coffee hangouts.

We prefer mugs over paper when possible. And both of us chose dark chocolate over white and milk.

We had a nice visit; about school and his upcoming birthday party and choosing a Confirmation/saints' name. (He's leaning toward St. Sebastian like half his class, apparently.)

When it was time to go, he said, "That was worth the time I spent cleaning my room, Mom."

So, you see, it's really not about the pop or the coffee or the hot chocolate or whatever other excuse you want to give it. That's all fine and good, too, and offers a tasty excuse, but it's really about something much deeper, much more precious. I'm going to carry that sweet hour with my son throughout the week ahead -- and beyond.

Speaking of blessings, those who didn't have a chance to read my Friday post can see it today on Chasing Silhouettes, "a blog for families and caregivers who desire hope and healing on the eating disorders journey." I've been touched by the responses and encouragement given to my daughter by the various readers here on Peace Garden Mama and on CatholicMom.com, where our post appeared on Friday.

Q4U: What ritual do you do with your children or friends that's about something other than what it appears?

faith fridays: God's love in a fortune cookie

I don't believe in predictions that come through fortune cookies. But I do believe that if God wanted to speak to me through a fortune cookie, He could do that. In fact, I'm convinced that He has.

 

It wasn't really me He was trying to reach but my oldest daughter.

You need to know that it's been a tough year for her, and she's been struggling of late; mainly with food. Too much, too little, what kind, whether it's foe or friend.

I remember being at the same age. It was one of my worst years as a teenager. Dark thoughts ran through my head and I wasn't sure if life was worth living. Now, I thank God for His persistence in loving me through those overcast days. Somehow, by listening to His still, small voice, I was able to hang on and believe in something bright shining around the bend. I shudder to think of all the beautiful things I'd have missed out on if I'd given up on life at age 14.

Now, I'm a mother of five, trying to convince my oldest daughter that the hard things she's going through now shouldn't be given the power to squelch the beautiful things that are coming.

Last week, we were both reminded we're not alone in the difficult task ahead.

She'd just opened up to me about how hard this was going to be; this commitment to start eating normally, to shun the voices (including the interior ones) attempting to lead her away from health and that beautiful future I know awaits her. I told her it was going to be hard but I knew she could do it.

A short while later, we were in the kitchen, just the two of us, unpacking Chinese food. And out it dropped -- the broken-up fortune cookie.

"You can have that," she said. Truthfully, I didn't want any arguments over food. I also knew there were usually only a couple cookies in the bag and there could be vicious fights over who would get to consume the fortune cookie. I determined that eating the broken one right then might save on some squabbling later. "Fine, but it's your fortune. Whatever it says it's for you, okay?" I said in compromise.

I opened the little package and out spilled the slip of paper with the fortune on it. I read it out loud, verbatim:  

"Don't give up, the beginning is always the hardest."

I looked at her, she looked back, eyes wide. The world stopped for an eerie moment. "That really was for you," I said. She smiled, then set about arranging the plates and glasses.

We called the others to the table and ate our dinner. The whole time I wondered...did she hear what I had heard, and did she know the source?

I found confirmation a short while later on her Facebook wall, where she'd shared with her friend what the white slip of paper had revealed. "It's like Jesus came to me in a fortune cookie!" she wrote.

Then, while I was out, she texted me: "You know how my fortune cookie said that? Then on the back it has like your lucky numbers and a 'learn Chinese' thing?"

"Yes?"

"Well," she continued, "the 'learn Chinese' phrase on the back of that fortune was 'to eat'...o.o. mind blown."

"Wow!" I answered. "I think God is running over hurdles to get your attention. That's how much He loves you."

Maybe you had to be there. Maybe you needed to have been right in the middle of it all to understand how precisely timed it was, and how that, as much as the rest of the details, is what sent tandem shivers through us. How could we be misreading this?

She was needing a sign to tell her she could do this, that she wouldn't be alone. I was needing a sign to tell me I could help her do this, that I wouldn't be alone.

And there it was...in black and white. Mere coincidence? Maybe. But if there were any doubts, the message on the back was the confirmation we needed. "To eat." The chances of  mere coincidence just did a nose-dive. There was no doubt in either of our minds.

The way I see it, four miracles took place. One was the miracle of having had the chance to talk earlier that afternoon. Two was the miracle that she'd gotten verbal affirmation from God that she's not alone in this trial. Three was the affirmation that I wasn't, either. And the fourth? Well, that happened the next day.

"Mom, you can write about the fortune cookie if you want."

"Really?" I asked, not certain I was hearing her correctly. "You mean...are you sure?" We both knew that in order for me to write about the fortune cookie, we'd have to tell the whole story. And that would mean being vulnerable and public about something that has been difficult.

"Yep."

Many people wiser than I have cautioned me to not overlook the smaller miracles while searching for the big one. My daughter's offer to share this tells me she's already realizing, even in her dark time, that by sharing a piece of her story, she might be able to help someone who is struggling with the same. Even if that means having her mom write about it on her blog and making it public.

She's glimpsed that there's something bigger at stake, and that she might have to come out of her comfort zone a bit to let it be free. That in doing so -- in bringing something difficult to the light -- we free ourselves and give others the permission to do the same.

(Thank you, dear daughter, for trusting me with this. I love and believe in you!)

Q4U: Where was the most unusual place God reached out to you?

writing wednesdays: leaving spooky for saintly

Yesterday was All Saints Day. At our school Mass, we sang "Oh When the Saints Go Marching In." Today, I honor the occasion by highlighting the lovely Lisa Hendey and her new book, which relates to the topic.

My Little Saint, 2009

This is a post you won't want to miss; it involves a book giveaway! I typically stay away from giveaways on my blogs, but I think you'll really be edified by this one. Come see what I have to say about it on Peace Garden Writer!