Best Friends Forever?

I always wonder about the people who remain "best friends forever," the ones who made promises to their friends in high school that they would always be there for each other, get together even after marriage and kids and basically be more faithful to their friendship than to anything else. But life is so full of change and growth and discovery that it would be very hard for anyone to truly remain best friends for decades unless either they both have the same calling on their life, or they choose to keep their lives as stagnant as possible.  Am I wrong in thinking this?

Life is so full of choices, and for those of us who believe in God, the one constant choice before us is always:  go with what's comfortable, or use your faith in a radical way?  Compromise or sacrifice?  You can begin with a group of friends, solid, caring friends who all believe in God just as you do.  In time each one makes small choices, slightly different from the others and before long you are heading in different directions.  What one has faith to do, the others don't and vice versa.  Each one has to be sure of her own choices and not allow the others to hold her back, that's the way it should be.

Mrs. Ross had a girls prayer group meeting in her home every Wednesday after school.  Her house was right next to our football field and we all looked forward to prayer-meeting day to sing and pray and talk about God with her.  She was an amazing and caring woman with a real heart to reach out to us young, 12 and 13 year old wiggly, giggly, slightly goofy girls.  My first experience with God, the first prayer I made of true surrender to Jesus as my Lord came about because of that group, and I know the path of my future was already marked because of Mrs. Ross' influence.

But as precious as that time was, each of us has grown and changed and taken different directions, though I'm certain, each of us loves God still.  Even the friends I have right now may not be on the same path as me in the years ahead, but what matters is, am I making the right choices for God right now?  Am I doing His bidding or concerned about the crowd?  Letting friends go can be sad, but nothing is worth letting go of God's leading.

Leadership Tips for Mothers

We're back again to topics on parenthood, for all you moms, moms-to-be, teachers and anyone else who needs a little help in getting the little ones to grow up well, here are a few worthwhile bits of advice.  Let me know what areas you'd like to read about.  I may not be an expert, but I've actually done all that I write about, so they're tried and true nuggets of wisdom - well, at least nuggets of common sense!


Dad is the head of the household, no doubt about that.  But because of work responsibilities and time at home, it’s normally mom who takes direct control of the day-to-day decisions when it comes to raising the children.  It’s a great honor to be entrusted with the molding and shaping of your little one’s lives, but at times it requires a will of steel to keep everyone in line.  Being a good leader does not always come naturally, and a few basic pointers can be very helpful for those wise enough to put them into practice.  Here are five of them that you can use right away:

1. Be the visionary – Promote a vision, a direction that you want your home to take and that the children can follow behind.  Do you want your home to be one where God’s Spirit and character are emulated?  That has to be a part of the basis for all you decide to do and make it clear that is the motivation for your decisions.  Getting a good education, doing well on even the smallest jobs, helping with the household chores and showing consideration to others all need to stem from this greater vision of your home.  You are the source of that vision, and if you stray from it, the kids will lose focus and motivation.

2. Be involved – For some mothers, this seems obvious, but sadly others don’t see the need.  Your children’s school and activities don’t exist merely for you to escape from the stress of child-raising, they all play a part in the shaping of your child’s values and character.  You need to be a part of their lives, see who it is they are befriending, know who it is that is influencing them, observe whether they are learning subtle lessons that you don’t approve of, and know about their successes.  Every child feels secure and proud to have mom on the sidelines cheering them on, and will be able to handle any corrections you give because they know that your actions already show how much you care.

3. Keep the Golden Rule – Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Show this by your own example as you show kindness to your husband and children and everyone else you come in contact with.  Enforce it as a rule that is even punishable.  Rudeness and selfishness cannot be tolerated.

4. Criticize wisely – Parents who just fly off the handle and yell out of emotion often find that their kids just tune them out the bigger they get.  The pushier you are, the less they listen.  Think carefully of a rational and clear argument to present when disciplining your child.  You can be angry, but be logical and reasonable at the same time.  Most likely they will already know that they are wrong, and will have a harder time arguing back when you have solid facts that speak for themselves.

5. Be quick with encouragement and praise - Acknowledging even small accomplishments can do wonders for a child’s self-esteem and desire to do even better.  Don’t laugh at the mistakes they made while trying their best to do well (the painting of Daddy with six fingers…you know what I mean!)  Remember that every child longs for the approval of his or her parents, and loving praise given will be returned to you with a solid bond of trust.  

Etiquette and the American Teenager - Not a Pretty Picture

I had so much fun reading through my mother's old book of etiquette by the grande dame of good manners, Emily Post.  So many antiquated rules of behavior, like how to hold balls and dances, the duties of debutantes, proper table settings for teas and luncheons, are a lovely reminder of how refined we once were in some respects as a society years ago.  I found her first book online, originally printed in 1922, and had to laugh when I read this from her chapter on conversation:

"IDEAL conversation should be a matter of equal give and take, but too often it is all “take.” The voluble talker—or chatterer—rides his own hobby straight through the hours without giving anyone else, who might also like to say something, a chance to do other than exhaustedly await the turn that never comes...

No conversation is possible between others whose ears are within reach of his ponderous voice; anecdotes, long-winded stories, dramatic and pathetic, stock his repertoire; but worst of all are his humorous yarns at which he laughs uproariously though every one else grows solemn and more solemn.
There is a simple rule, by which if one is a voluble chatterer (to be a good talker necessitates a good mind) one can at least refrain from being a pest or a bore. And the rule is merely, to stop and think."

There's no doubt that what was considered good conversation in 1922 would be quaint and funny to us today, but the basic principle of showing consideration to those listening to you, and choosing topics interesting to others, seems to be less than common among many young girls and women I  know.

Knowing how to converse with people of other ages and backgrounds, of different educations and professions should be a skill that continues, especially among Christians who carry the command to spread the Good News of the Kingdom of God.  Communicating and reaching out through words is essential!  But if I pick out a random sampling of young people in church under 25, nine out of ten will not know how to look me in the eye and say a simple "good morning" with a smile.  I know - I've tried.  Asking a simple question about what they think of the latest movie will at best get you a, "I dunno, I liked it I guess," while staring at the wall and fidgeting.  Makes you want to slap somebody, but then of course you don't because Emily Post would not approve,

Which makes me think its time to bring back the old finishing schools of the past that taught manners and polite behavior - Victorian England here we come!  Not that I feel that the world needs more debutantes and tea parties, but a fear that perhaps some Darwinian laws are actually coming into effect and the American teenager is devolving back into primordial slime...

For those young women whom I personally know (yes, you do come under the 9 out of 10 example), send me your feedback.  What would you think of some classes in communicating skills?  I eagerly await your response!  

Dumb Down or Smarten Up?

She was walking in my direction, pushing her shopping cart when I heard her say in a loud, enthusiastic voice, "Hi! How are you?" I quickly glanced up and saw she was on her cell phone speaking with a polished professional tone as she schlepped her way through WalMart in a baggy T-shirt and her hair pulled into a messy pony-tail. I'm not an eavesdropper, but her voice was so loud I couldn't help hear that she was discussing the possibility of a job interview for a receptionist position with a potential employer. She sounded pleasant, smooth and confident, and then I heard her say, "I was planning to go, but I didn't went" That's right - didn't went.


I looked at her and with all my might, I wanted to say, "Didn't GO, it's DIDN'T GO! And then give her a lecture on why she can't expect to get a well-paying job at a good company as a receptionist if she can't speak basic English. But she was busy trying to explain why she didn't went, and I walked off to another aisle.


I have seen many articles bemoaning the "dumbing down" of our culture, the LOLs and OMGs and text gibberish of teenagers who really couldn't care less how they speak or spell anymore. Many kids grow up in families and neighborhoods that have developed their own mutant form of English, are taught in schools that are no more than assembly-line factories that slap a diploma in their hands when they reach 18, that they don't even realize how backwards they sound to everyone else. I have personally met both parents and kids who accuse employers of racism, sexism, or any other -ism when they are rejected for jobs that kids from better homes easily get. CEO's of the corporate world are worried that current high school and even college graduates are so far below the standards of education that they need for entry-level employees, some are even starting specialized training programs to make up for what schools and parents are not doing.


I know that it's tough coming from a home of immigrant parents, when no one else around you values a good education, when speaking well means sounding out of place, but the question is, are you satisfied with the place you're in right now? Who wants to be a college graduate who still doesn't know that the word forever does not include the number 4? It's not like you're learning a foreign language, it's just learning your own language correctly. Stay tuned for Part II.

The Decision That Saved His Life

When Mark was 11 months old and tottering around the house on chubby little legs, I had to carefully baby-proof every room. I made sure there was no table he could pull down on himself, that all the light sockets were covered, that there were no small articles that he could put in his mouth and choke on. Also that every door that led outside was securely locked - except for that day.

Sunday after church in Durban, South Africa, we went home while my husband stayed behind to preach in the afternoon services, and Todd went to a friend's house. I fed the baby, and let him wander around as I did some laundry, thinking that I would get a head start on Monday's chores. I really don't know how many minutes passed before I realized that I no longer heard his chattering voice, I had been so lost in thought. Terror gripped me when I started to call his name and go from room to room and not hear a sound or see him anywhere. I ran up and down the hallways, and then glanced out the window to see his little body floating face-down in the swimming pool in the back yard. The one door in the back porch that was always locked had been left unlatched. He had pushed it open, and loving the pool, had walked right into it and drowned.

The first word out of my mouth was, NOOOO!!!! I ran and jumped in the pool to fish him out. He was swollen, blue and not breathing. His arms were stiffly sticking out to either side, and he was unrecognizable. He must have been there for quite some time to have transformed into this monster-like creature. I rushed him to the small carpet on the back porch and began to pump his stomach - something I had only seen on TV and remembered from a high school P.E. class.

From the moment I saw him and tried to resuscitate him, a million thoughts were running through my mind. "You idiot! Why didn't you check that door? It's all your fault that he's dead!" "Just be thankful to God that He gave you these 11 months with him on this earth, it must be his time to go to heaven." "Why are you even praying? You haven't been that spiritual lately, why do you think God would listen to you now when you don't deserve it? You're a failure as a mother!"

And then, thank God, other thoughts flooded in: "God is a healer! God does miracles! God raises the dead!" "Pray, fight for him like never before, forget whether you feel spiritual or worthy of anything - this is your child PRAY! FIGHT NOW!" Then a determination swept over me and an anger that the devil wanted to kill my son. I prayed against the feelings and told God, "If I have to pray for a week for him to come back from the dead, I'm not stopping." I made my decision and began to rebuke all the evil that was at work to steal his life.

All of this happened within seconds, but it was a decision of life and death. I was pumping his stomach, and nothing was happening. I was trying to breath into his mouth, but the air wasn't going in. I kept praying, rebuking, and doing all I could, and finally as I breathed into him once more, I felt his lungs fill and his chest rose with air. He made a tiny groan, and I knew he would live. I picked him up and he vomited all the water out of his stomach, and began to cry weakly. He was limp, gray, and couldn't move his limbs. I ran in and bundled him up in a blanket and massaged him all over, and made more decisions for God and the devil to hear:

"He will not be brain damaged."
"He will not have any paralysis or loss of movement."
"He will be perfectly normal in every way.
"He will not be traumatized by what just happened."
"He will have no fear of water, love swimming and grow to be a bold, happy and healthy boy!"

I called my husband, who was on his way home to change his shirt, something that he normally didn't do on Sundays. He prayed with me over the phone. I called the pediatrician who arranged for us to go straight into the emergency room. Then Marky ate, slept, and woke up talking away in his baby language about balls and cars and ready to play!

The trip to the hospital proved beyond a doubt that what I had decided was exactly what God had done. They had to remove us from the Intensive Care Unit because I couldn't keep him from running around the room and squealing! He was the healthiest patient there. Even a troop of student nurses, led by their head nurse, came to see me and congratulate me for having done a "wonderful job of CPR." But that wasn't what really brought Mark back to life - it was deciding to use my faith, against all odds and against all emotions. They kept us overnight, just in case some complication arose, but the doctor released us sooner than planned. As soon as we got home, I took him around to the back yard. When he spotted the pool, he stretched out his arms and shouted, "Pool! Pool!" And with all our clothes on, we hopped in and went for a lovely swim.

He is a happy, healthy, active 11 year old, who loves to help us evangelize, play soccer and is game for just about anything. But if I had decided to listen to those "logical" arguments in my head to just be thankful that I had him for 11 months, that would be exactly what God would have allowed and we would have buried him that week. The power to decide is what faith is all about. It's God's gift to us so He can show His power, but only we can make it happen.

Mom, the Dictator

If there's anything that will put your decision-making skills to the test, it's being a mom. For all the warm and fuzzy dreams you may have had about sweet, easy-going days with baby, reality slaps you in the face like a wet diaper the moment you bring one home. Every moment of your day is filled with "When does he eat next?" "Did he eat enough?" "Why won't he sleep?" "Why won't he stop fussing" "What's that strange red rash he's got?" "Do I have time to run to the store to buy more Huggies before his nap?" "Do I nap along with him and finally get a few minutes rest, or do I take the time to finally get some housework done?" "How do I cook and hold a baby at the same time?" "When will I have my life back??"

But that is just the beginning. Next as they grow into little walking people, who make loud demands with a vocabulary of 25 words, you are forced to make snap decisions from minute to minute. Do you insist that he can't chew on the TV remote and deal with five minutes of heartbreaking tears? Do you have a contingency plan to quickly substitute a new and fascinating toy or a snack or video, all the while speaking firmly and excitedly about how much better B is from A? Do you let him go to the store with his shoes on backwards the way he wants and a clip-on tie attached to his t-shirt? Do you let him get away with two bites of chicken for lunch and handfulls of Cheetos?

It's like they never give you a break. You have to have eyes on the back of your head, and have ears like a hawk to wake up in the middle of the night for any emergency. And you have to be decisive. To be a successful parent, democracy goes out the window and the ultimate rule of dictatorship must prevail! OK, loving, hugging, playing dictatorship, but a dictator all the same.

The sooner your child understands that you are the Supreme Leader who's word is final, you will have a happier and more secure child. The more chaos you allow in your home, and the fewer decisions you choose to make, allowing them to call the shots and determine how each day goes, the unhappier and grumpier they will be. The longer this goes on, the less they will trust that you know what you are doing as a parent. There is no coincidence that single teenage mothers have a higher rate of emotionally disturbed children than those from a married, two-parent family. It takes a determined and focused parent to raise a stress-free, happy child.

The saddest thing to me is to counsel women who have teenagers who disrespect them, just because all their growing years, their mother was afraid of displeasing them. She wanted her children to like her so much that she denied them the leadership that they needed. She can't understand why they are now so rebellious when she did so much for them in the past.

Want a sure guarantee of messing up your kids? Be indecisive. Afraid of making decisions? Believe me, motherhood is not for you!

D-Day 2009, by David Higginbotham

During the Second World War a time came when leaders of the Allied Forces knew they needed a decisive victory if they were going to win the war against Nazi Germany. So they decided on a plan, spent months preparing themselves and then on June 6th, 1944, launched the largest single-day amphibious assault of all time – popularly known as D-Day.

160,000 troops were packed into 6900 ships and transported by night across the English Channel from England to France, where they were to run onto unprotected beaches and confront German tanks, one million mines and machine gun nests. For additional support, overnight parachute and glider landings placed thousands of troops behind enemy lines.

Crazy you say? Absolutely! But it was the turning point of WWII. Before that day the Allied Forces were losing the war. London was on fire from daily aerial bombings and most of Europe was in the hands of the Nazis. So something drastic had to be done.

Within one month over one million troops had landed on the Normandy beaches and German troops were in retreat. The rest is history.

The spirit of the Day of Decision is exactly the same. All or nothing. Throw everything you have into one all-out leap of faith. Be audacious. Stop doing what doesn’t work and try something new.

65 years ago the Allied commanders knew that if they kept up the normal routine, defeat was guaranteed. But what about you today? If you keep doing the same old things, what can you really expect? Aren’t you guaranteed more of the same, or worse?
On the Day of Decision we propose that you challenge God to begin to show His power in your life in a tangible, concrete way that’ll leave no doubts. Declare your personal D-Day on September 13.

No words. Just action. Win the war for a better life.

Succeed in Life Center 5150 N. SHepherd Dr. Houston, Texas, 77018 1-888-691-2291 www.succeedinlife.org