not your mama's jewelry

I am happy to have the chance to review a beautiful jewelry set from (in)courage, called Redeemed - I Am His.  There are two lovely pieces to this - a charm bracelet and a pendant necklace.

What a beautiful gift for yourself or someone in your life!  These can be purchased through Dayspring's website.

When I think of jewelry, I often think of my mom.  She was never found without her dangly earrings; no outfit would have been complete without that accessory for her!  She always looked fantastic, and, as with most moms, I thought she could solve every problem and heal every wound that came along in my life.

I can't say that she ever let me down even once in that area- she truly was a super woman.

For those moms in our lives who encourage us to be our best and are always cheering us on - we thank you!

(This set is a part of (in)courage's May Inspired Deals . Dayspring sent this to me free of charge and the opinions stated herein are my own.)

Missing Mom

Twelve years ago today, my mom left this earth to go live with her Savior in heaven. 

 It was hard to say goodbye.

It still is.

But what remains are happy, joyful, loving memories.  It was all good, always.

When I recall how I felt about her - how my world so often wonderfully revolved around her and how she was my best friend and my true north - sometimes I get scared because now I'm a mom and I'm wondering if my three children feel the same way about me.

Wow.  It's quite the position to be The Mother.

May I do as well as she did.  It would be an honor.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

I love you.

hail walmart, full of grace....

A couple of weekends ago, I threw a temper tantrum in my office.  A full blown I've had enough, this is frustrating, I didn't ask for these inconveniences foot-stomping time.  If I'd been the age I was acting, I would have been 3 feet tall and most likely resorted to throwing myself onto the floor as I pounded my fists.

Instead, I turned my annoyance to the print job that was coming out of my newly purchased, just installed, this-was-its-maiden-voyage printer and due to my impatience (see "tantrum" above), decided to give one sheet a little help and yank pull it out before it was completely done.

And after that, my new printer wouldn't print any more.


I tried everything technical I knew to do.  I unplugged it and plugged back it in.  I turned it on, and turned it off.  I smiled at it, complimented its sleek black look and winked, but every time I tried to print, I got the same whirring sound with no paper passing through.

Brand new printer, fresh out of the box, and now I was going to have to pack it up and, with my tail between my legs, head back to Walmart for a replacement. To make matters worse, that box it was fresh out of was already gone with last week's trash, along with my receipt.

Double ugh.

Standing in front of the Walmart counter the next day, I prayed for a seamless transaction. I was looking for a little grace.  Okay, a lot of grace.  As I meekly handed over said printer, clad only in a thin canvas bag, I explained to the customer service rep that it wasn't working properly.  And how I didn't have the original box and no, I didn't have the receipt either.  And how I'd like to just get out of the store quietly with a new piece of equipment and forget any of this ever happened.

I heard her magic words.  "Go get another printer."

My relief smiled from ear to ear.

Faster than a flight out of Philly, I made a beeline back to the electronics section, picked myself up another box full of print-o-magic, and returned to the service counter.  She crunched some numbers, handed me a receipt which I vowed to keep, and sent me on my way. 

Walmart extended undeserved favor to me, really. It wasn't their fault the printer didn't work anymore.  I was the one that had screwed up. I was the one with the hasty attitude, yet they were willing to give me another chance to calm down and do it right the next time. On their dollar.

God does that for me every day.  I yell, I scream, I want things my way and in my time.  When I finally settle down and see my immaturity and realize I've been fighting His perfect plan, I open up my pounding, clenched fists and humbly ask for some grace. Some undeserved favor.  For a do-over, promising to do it His way this time.

And He answers with grace, with a second chance. From that, I learn to love Him even more because He is a God who loves me and who lets me try again.

Even when I act 3 feet tall.