Chasing Blue Skies

A Letter to My Daughter: What I Want You to See in the Mirror

Dear Faith,

Today the last of the single digits find you: Happy 9th birthday, Faith.

You know I usually spend the weeks leading up to your birthday making jokes about skipping it, how you will not turn the next number. No way no how. You may or may not know I haven’t always relished you growing up.

But this year changed all that. This year, I am not mourning your birthday.

I still marvel at how the days pass slowly but the years fly by. Every mama knows all about that. But if this last year has taught me anything, it’s that nothing’s gained from too much looking over my shoulder towards your younger years. I am soaking up all the birthday fun of nine right alongside you. I am standing on Pike’s Peak and shouting for the world, “My girl is nine today!” I am looking at you in the mirror today, you nine year old rock star. And when you look in the mirror, I hope you see a thing or two.

You’re a work of art. Oh, the world will do it’s best to convince you you’re not beautiful or worthy. It will try to sell you false hopes bottled up in the flavor of the day. Here’s where I give you permission to roll your eyes at every lie it offers. Do you want to know you’re beautiful? Then read beautiful Scripture. Scripture like this will help you see your value not overly or underly, but reality.

You’re capable. You are strong enough to handle anything God asks of you. This year gave you a crash course in this lesson, didn’t it? You know full well that doors closed means other, just-right-for-you doors will be opened. Don’t assume you aren’t cut out to do something. Don’t write something off because at first glance it looks impossible. Some ideas and dreams have a warming up period. Remember what Holley says? You’re already amazing. Don’t listen to the enemy’s voice that says you aren’t enough. That’s a big fat lie. Truth is, the combination of your personality and abilities scare him.

You’re loved. Every single day, you’re loved. There’s nothing you could do that would cancel this. Let the love of your daddy, mama, brothers, relatives and friends seep into your deepest parts. Know you are a vital link in a family that wants and cherishes you more than you’ll ever know.

You’re imperfect. You have faults just like the rest of us. Acknowledge them but don’t focus on them. Acknowledge them and acknowledge your Savior who is what you aren’t. Jesus does not want or expect perfection, so neither should you.

You’re intelligent. We all are in one area or another, and you’re no exception. Convention says there are nine multiple intelligences. But our God is one of infinite creativity and intelligences, and He plants all kinds of strengths in His children. Don’t let your struggles tell you you’re not smart. Let your strengths confirm otherwise. And girl, you have yourself countless strengths. Remember, God is not One of waste. If He created you, then you’re needed, necessary, and gifted.

You’re wanted. You fit in right at home, darling. If our family was a sundae, you would forever be the cherry on top. You’ll always have a home that welcomes you with wide open arms.

You’re His. You know I often ask you, “Whose child are you?” and you answer, “God’s.” I hope you always believe this. He is crazy about you, Faith. You are His treasured possession and He gives you the best of the best everyday. Believe Him.

I love you,

Mama

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May 17, 2012 5 Comments Filed Under: Encouragement, Faith, Family, Parenting

When You Want Others to Really Like You

By Kristen

“I’m learning to care less about what people think and more about people, period.” Emily P. Freeman

My man is technically an engineer in the United States Air Force, although for this assignment he teaches at the United States Air Force Academy. He also has a PhD in something I can’t really pronounce. And just like that, y’all probably make assumptions about him. Because that’s just our nature. When you mix our nature with stereotypes about different occupations and the personalities of those doing them, you make assumptions. While you might guess he is a tech wizard, you might be surprised he likes tinkering on old cars and has a “mad scientist” homebrew station in our basement. He’s just as comfortable wearing a cowboy hat as a military uniform, although not at the same time. Obviously.

Just like the rest of us, he has layers people see and don’t see, some they expect and some they don’t. But without fail, he lives the mantra, “What you see is what you get.” He is the real deal in every sense. For me, it sometimes feels appealing to keep a few of my own layers hidden or invent new ones that aren’t really me if I think they will make you like me more. Emily refers to it as being an opinion manager, and yes, I dearly love the idea of bossin’ your opinion of me. I’d love to say I’ve licked this thing, that I’m mature and secure enough not to care if you don’t care for me. But sometimes I care very much. I want you to like me, and heaven forbid you turn out to be someone like Mr. Darcy who stated, “My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.” Oh the effort I could expend on you!

So while I own this, I also know I don’t have the energy to bend over backwards for people’s opinions. It’s exhausting, and frankly it doesn’t work anyway. Opinions are like shadows, always changing depending on the angle of the sun and where the person stands. So while I haven’t licked this people pleasing thing, I am learning to turn my face from those hopscotching shadows and towards the constant Son. When I do this, I find His light reflects from me to others, and I love better.

I’m called to love people whether or not they are all that lovely to me. Really, I’m called to especially love those who aren’t so loving in return. Remembering this helps me focus on what I’m created to do: Focus on people’s hearts, not their opinions. My faith can then rest in the good opinion of my Father, the One who has my heart. Besides, He’s much easier to please anyway.

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May 15, 2012 9 Comments Filed Under: Encouragement, Faith, Faith in Action, Military

What We All Need in Life {and Happy Military Spouse Appreciation Day!}

By Kristen

I grew up with comfortable familiarity wrapped around me like wide-blue skies around my Oklahoma prairies. And because I grew up in the same town and literally had family for neighbors, not once did I work to meet people or make friends. So, when my Air Force man put a ring on my finger and moved me to the moon {aka Ohio}, I had myself quite the adjustment period. And quite the cry fest. Or fifty.

As a freshly minted Air Force wife, my husband’s Aunt Hetty handed me encouragement in words spoken and on paper. Not only did she know what it was like to be a military wife, but she knew what it was like to leave familiar surroundings. After all, she moved from her native Holland to follow her Air Force love to another country altogether.

Aunt Hetty must have known this small town girl could use some help in the role as military wife. And Lord have mercy, was she ever right. I was clueless about everything. I assumed friends would fall from the sky {they didn’t} and no one gave me a head’s up in that pre-9/11 era my husband would frequently travel {he did}. On one particularly lonely evening, I dug out a card from Aunt Hetty, and her words gave me direction I needed:

“The best thing you can do for yourself is get out and about. Don’t wait for friends to come to you. Go find them.”

I’ve found that to be easier said than done through the years, but more often than not Aunt Hetty’s advice has been right on the money. If I want near and dear relationships, I need to give some here and now effort. The only way to guarantee never making friends is never trying.

Whether you are a military wife or not, do you have an Aunt Hetty in your life? Someone who has “been there done that” and lived to tell? Lives still today to encourage you? Thankfully, the Lord has brought me many other military wife encouragers, and they are my family away from family. On this Military Spouse Appreciation Day, I salute them. And you. You there, the one whose life drips with responsibilities. You do your best to balance children with dinner with dishes with checkbooks all while supporting your marriage and spouse through countless crazy seasons. You may drop a ball or two or more, but you know perfection isn’t the goal, only perseverance in the process. What you do is seen and matters so much.

Thank you.

If you’ve landed here from Household 6 Diva or Riding the Roller Coaster, welcome! I’m a sixteen-years-and-counting Air Force wife and twelve-years-and-counting mama to three darling young’uns. Why do I ‘Chase Blue Skies’? Because when I do, I find the Creator in everything come rain or shine. And *that* gives fresh air. I write largely of marriage and parenting relationships, the military lifestyle, and how faith weaves through everything . I’ve also written a lot about friendship, something we military wives get a fast-track education in.

You can read more about messy ol’ me here as well as other words I write here.

I hope you will stay a while and discover that while our military lifestyle brings changing landscape, the fresh air hope found in looking up stays the same. Enjoy the wide open spaces a bit with me? I can tell I already like you!

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May 11, 2012 16 Comments Filed Under: Encouragement, Friendship, Military

What My Mama and Every Mama Deserves to Hear

By Kristen

Daddy often said I could never be a lawyer. For all my back talkin’, I’d be held in contempt of court.

You’d just nod your head in agreement, maybe let out an “Mmmm hmmm” and for good reason. I had myself a mile wide sassy streak, and I liked to have the last word. And that must have driven you to your knees a hundred times and then some, praying for wisdom on how to show grace to a girl with a wild tongue and a flare for dramatics.

Much later, when the hard contractions set in before your twin grandsons made their entrance into the world, I remember apologizing for every sassy thing I ever said. And boy, did I mean it.

I also mean to tell you thank you for every gift you ever gave.

Do you remember how I used to get so nervous going to the doctor or the dentist, and you would tell me it’s going to be okay, this too shall pass and then we shall have a ice cream? Or a Sonic treat? You’d rub my back and calm me down and you were always right. I made it through and there were always cherry limeades or Braum’s ice cream.

Do you remember how I’d ask one thousand and one questions during every St. Louis Cardinals game or Mandrell Sisters episode? How I wanted to know why baseball games had nine innings or who made the snazzy matchy outfits Barbara, Louise, and Irlene wore? You must have fought the urge to just throw me in bed and watch in peace.

Do you remember that time I didn’t make all-state orchestra? I called home from Oklahoma City, and I was pretty sure my life was over. You assured me my life would indeed go on just fine, and that my worth was not wrapped up in one little audition.

Do you remember how you stayed with David and I when the twins were born? How you cooked food, rocked babies, and generally encouraged us as we fumbled all whiplashed as parents to two babies? You didn’t criticize our choices. You said I was the most laid-back mama of newborns you’d ever seen, and this meant so much because I knew my up-tight nature all too well and just wanted to relax.

Do you remember that week when I couldn’t get off from school and David couldn’t get off from work, and you dropped everything and flew a thousand miles from Oklahoma to Ohio to be Grandma-on-duty?

And then when Faith had her surgery, do you remember reminding me of all the good things to be thankful for during the entire ordeal? How the light at the end of the tunnel would come? I clung to that somethin’ fierce.

I remember it all and more, how you sacrificed your time, your heart, and probably your tears to get me through the next doctor’s visit, music audition, and teenaged drama-laced crisis. Time and again, you remind me tunnels do end in light and “this too shall pass.” Somewhere during those days tucked inside the years of balancing faithful church attendance with letting me run wild in prairie fields with reigning in my fierce tongue, you taught me when I chase Blue Skies, the dark never wins.

Thank you for that, Mama. You are one in a million because He chose you to be mine. I love you!

Happily linking up at Ann’s today! Ann joins us in honoring our mamas by giving to the Child Survival Program in Haiti. So when we love on our moms, moms in Haiti will feel the love, too! And on that note, have you seen what glorious, beautiful things are happening in Tanzania right now thanks in part to the Compassion bloggers and sponsors like you?