Valleys and Mountaintops

I've been reading in Psalm 23 lately. It's such a short little psalm, and yet it packs so many powerful truths.

Hubby and I are in Colorado this week. We traveled here with our sweet boss to visit her brother. His estate is absolutely gorgeous, and admittedly we are being spoiled rotten. We have our own private suite overlooking the Rocky Mountains, with snow-covered pine trees right out my window. We've enjoyed seeing the deer, snow falling, and gorgeous sunsets.

As I read through Psalm 23 yesterday morning, I realized I would not be here in this beautiful place with these people I've come to love had I not walked through "a valley of the shadow of death" back in 2017. In August of that year, we lost our job working as caretakers of a large ranch in Texas. We trusted God had plans for us, but those eight weeks we waited to discover his plans were some of the longest of our lives.

Now as I look back on those days, I'm so incredibly thankful for them! I'm so thankful God heard my cry and removed us from a situation that wasn't good for us anymore. I was emotionally exhausted and hubby was physically exhausted, so it was definitely time to move on.

Every day we thank God for bringing us to Tennessee to work for the most wonderful, funny, and generous boss. We are blessed beyond measure. As King David said in Psalm 23, the cup the LORD prepared for us truly is overflowing, and we are basking in his goodness and mercy. Valleys are part of life, but so are mountaintops. And my mountaintop is currently snow-covered and glorious.

If you are walking through a dark valley, hang in there! God's ways are not our ways, but his plans are always, always good!! Your mountaintop is just ahead!

Blessings,

~Michelle


Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

It's RELEASE DAY for The Widow of Rose Hill!

February 12, 2018 is a VERY HAPPY DAY in the Shocklee household!

First, today is my son's 27th birthday! Whoop! CanNOT believe that child is 27! What an amazing young man he has become. God has wonderful plans for you, my son! I can't wait to watch them unfold.

Today is also my sister's birthday! Happy Birthday, Sis!! Love and miss you!!

And now ...drum roll, please .....

TODAY IS THE RELEASE OF THE WIDOW OF ROSE HILL!!!

Widowed during the war, Natalie Ellis finds herself solely responsible for Rose Hill plantation. When Union troops arrive with a proclamation freeing the slaves, all seems lost. How can she run the plantation without slaves? In order to save her son’s inheritance she strikes a deal with the arrogant, albeit handsome, Colonel Maish. In exchange for use of her family’s property, the army will provide workers to bring in her cotton crop. But as her admiration for the colonel grows, a shocking secret is uncovered. Can she trust him with her heart and her young, fatherless son?

THANK YOU to all those who read and loved the first book in the series, The Planter's Daughter. I sincerely hope you fall in love with Natalie and Levi too! 

ENJOY!!!!

~Michelle

What's next, Papa?

God always has a plan!

Isn't that wonderful news? No matter what craziness is going on in the world or in our own lives, we can count on one thing: God always has a plan!

How do I know?

I've lived it! Am living it still. I look back on nearly 54 years of life on this planet and see it. Every day of my life. Every struggle I've been through. Every season, good or bad. God always had a plan!

My husband and I recently went through what initially felt like a storm, but in reality turned into the most wonderful blessing! Since November 2012 we'd worked on a ranch in Texas as the caretakers. It was an amazing life on a gorgeous property, yet it came with many, many frustrations, lots of hard work, and lots of situations that required complete trust in God. After the holidays last year, we had a sense our time on the ranch was coming to an end. Honestly, we'd known it in our hearts long before the job ended in July. With total trust that God saw our future, we packed up and temporarily moved in with my mother-in-love who graciously put up with us for eight weeks while we waited on the Lord. It may sound strange to some, but I'm grateful for those eight weeks. They were weeks that hubby and I spent in intense time on our knees and in the Word seeking God's plan for our lives. When life is going smoothly, we all too often get lazy in our walk with the Lord. Sometimes I think he allows trials to come into our lives as a reminder that we exist for his pleasure, not the other way around.

Last April, I was reading in the book of Romans in the Message Bible. Chapter 8, verses 15-16 jumped out at me:

"This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children."

Don't you love that?? We can live a life that is adventurously expectant with no fears for the future! We can ask Father God, "What's next?" with complete and total trust that he has a plan! When I underlined that phrase back in April, I had no idea what my Papa, or Abba, planned for me. I didn't know a change in jobs was around the bend. Didn't know he'd move us to a new state. But I trusted, and still do.

The Apostle Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus that "we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." (Ephesians 2:10) I take comfort in the "in advance" part, don't you? That means God isn't surprised when things happen in our lives.

Today, I type this with complete and utter peace and confidence, knowing that I am sitting in the center of God's strong and mighty hands, loved and protected and cared for. God answered every prayer we prayed those eight long weeks by planting us on a gorgeous property, working with wonderful people who are fellow believers.

Leeland's song "Beginning and the End" really spoke to me during our weeks of praying and trusting. If you're in a season where you don't know what the future holds, listen and trust the One who does!

Blessings to you all!

~Michelle

Adele: The Woman I Named My Heroine After

As an author of historical fiction, history is my passion. Reading about events and people from the past feeds my very active imagination in a way contemporary stories can't. The question, "What was it like to live back then?" is always on my mind. Whether I'm visiting a museum, a pioneer farm, or reading one of my favorite Civil War research books, the lives of people who came before us often plays out in my head like a movie, complete with drama, romance, and intrigue.

For a number of years, my husband and I lived and worked on a 400-acre ranch in the Texas hill country. We often wondered if various Indian tribes might have lived on this land before settlers arrived in the 1820s when Stephen Austin gained Mexico's permission to bring Americans into Texas. We found a few broken arrowheads here and there, so it seems likely there were natives living off the land here at one time.

Adele's final resting place

But sometime in the 1800s, a settler named Adele lived there. Adele was actually her middle name. Her first and last names on the headstone have been worn off over the past 100+ years. Despite attempts to track  down information on her, we don't know when she arrived in Texas nor how long she actually lived on the property. But the few facts we do know about her stirred my imagination to the point I had to name the heroine in my historical novel THE PLANTER'S DAUGHTER in her honor.

So let me tell you a little bit about Adele.

Adele was born in Switzerland on July 23, 1837. She was the wife of Henry James. I believe she was preceded in death by at least two children because the inscription at the bottom of her headstone makes reference to "her babies." She died in 1885 and her resting place now sits beside a small pond just down the hill from the caretakers house. While we lived on the ranch, we referred to her as "our neighbor."

You can clearly make out "Switzerland" beneath the metal bar
that is part of the protective covering over her headstone

Early morning with Adele and a foggy pond

Adele's life in the hill country would not have been easy. I often wondered what her husband did for a living, because cattle ranching in these rocky hills would have been extremely difficult. Farming is completely out of the question. The property is not located near any large cities and the closest town was probably little more than a wide spot in the road (and it still is). Perhaps the town had a mercantile and a few other businesses, but even then it would have taken several hours for Adele and her family to reach it by wagon or horseback.

We tried to figure out exactly where her house might have stood, but other than finding some old square-headed nails and a few other small items, we didn't come to a positive conclusion. I feel certain it wouldn't have been too far from her grave, so we narrowed the location down to a couple different areas due to their being the only flat patches of ground around.

Pioneer home located on the LBJ Ranch

Here is where my imagination takes over. I envision Adele and her family living in a cabin made from logs cut from the property. There are lots of live oak trees, cedar, and other varieties that would have been available in the 1800s. If her husband Henry was young and strong, he might have gathered rocks from the abundance on the property and built a house similar to this one located on the LBJ Ranch a few hours from here. It boasts four rooms in a "dogtrot" style. There was of course no indoor plumbing, so an outhouse would have been situated not too far from the cabin. A washbasin similar to the one pictured no doubt sat near the door for easy access. It gets mighty hot in Texas, so splashing ones face with cool water would have felt really good after a long day of work. Henry would have dug a well and they probably had a windmill.                               

Despite the land not being suited for raising herds of cattle, they would have had animals like pigs, chickens, and horses. A herd of goats would have done well on the rocky terrain and might have provided milk and cheese. A garden full of fresh vegetables would have been a must.

.

In a hundred years, someone will poke around the property, wondering about the people who came before them. Maybe I'll bury a time capsule with a copy of my book and some pictures of what the place looks like now for someone to find.

                                                                              If you'd like to meet Adella Rose, the character named after Adele, go HERE to order your copy. THE PLANTER'S DAUGHTER is getting lots of great reviews and is currently holding at 5-stars on Amazon! Adella's life in Texas was no doubt different from Adele's, but they would have faced many of the same struggles, had many of the same hopes and dreams. I think Adele would be tickled to learn I named my character after her.

It's funny to think the life we are living right now will one day be history! I'm determined to make it interesting!

Have a fabulous day as you make your own history!

~Michelle

Be Still ...

Some days I feel like a hamster on a wheel, going around and around and around yet not getting anywhere! I imagine most of you know that feeling from time to time. Life is just so dadgum busy these days!! Emails, cell phones, computers, apps, jobs, kids, marriage, home life, church life, life life ... it can be all-consuming at times. There are days when I get so frustrated and overwhelmed I want to scream, "Get me off this wheel!" The ride ceased being fun.

I'm in a season of life I've looked forward to for a very long time. After writing and submitting and writing and submitting for more years than I care to admit, my first novel, The Planter's Daughter released in March. Many of my author friends who've walked the road to publication ahead of me warned that the work doesn't stop once your book is published. Nope. One might go so far as to say that's when the hardest work begins! The work of marketing and selling is just as challenging as the work of writing, editing, and submitting. In the latter case, you're trying to get a publisher to buy your work. After publication, you're trying to get the public to buy your work. Both can be daunting. Add to that the amazing blessing of two more book contracts, both with release dates in February 2018, you can color me one busy--and blissfully happy!--writer!

I think that's why Psalm 46:10 is so meaningful to me these days: "Be still, and know that I am God." It's hard to be still when you're on a hamster wheel going ninety-nine miles per hour and barely hanging on! It's hard to be still when life is so full you can't catch your breath from all the running, plotting, working, playing.

This past week Psalm 46:10 has come to my attention three different times in three different ways. I hadn't connected the dots until today, and now I'm wondering if perhaps God has been trying to get my attention, reminding me to be still so He can move in my life. How can I know what God is up to if I'm not listening to him?

I have a plaque hanging above our door that a dear friend gave me with Psalm 46:10 on it. I read it most every day as I walk by, thinking, "Yes, Lord. I hear you!" and then go about my business. A few days ago I discovered this journal (pictured) in a junk drawer. I'd purchased it several years ago but only wrote on two pages. I needed a new journal to takes notes at church and this was perfect. I read the verse aloud and said, "Yes, Lord. I hear you." I put the journal with my Bible and kept on truckin'.

It wasn't until we were at church yesterday that it finally stuck! Pastor Max Lucado asked the congregation to join him in "40 days of listening prayer." He said, "Pray and then be still. Listen." Jokingly, he added that we go into prayer with two ears and one mouth. Use them wisely.

So today I'm trying to be still. To listen. To pray ... and then shut my mouth! Thankfully our God is a patient God. My babbling won't turn his ear away from me, but I also believe he has things to teach me in the silence.

I'm determined to stay off that ol' hamster wheel! How about you? I invite you to join me in 40 days of listening prayer. I'll check back here from time to time throughout these next weeks and post my progress, what God is teaching me, and see how you're doing. Feel free to share in the comments.

Have a wonderfully still day!

~Michelle

A Thanksgiving List

I can't do life without a list. Grocery. Chores. Reminders. Dates. Travel. If anything is going to get done, it must be on the list! But today I want to share the most important list of all: My List of Blessings. I encourage you to make a list too if you haven't already done so. You never know how truly blessed you are until you see it in black and white.

Have a Blessed Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for:

• My Savior, Jesus Christ, who gives me everything else on my list.
• My dear parents who loved me unconditionally.
• My Christian heritage, passed down through generations.
• My wonderful, hardworking, funny husband who has put up with me for nearly 26 years! (Longer if you count dating & engagement!)
• My precious sons who make me laugh and taught me more about love than anyone ever could.
• My sister, Kim, and brothers Mark and Gregg, who fill my childhood memories.
• My brother, Steve, and sister-in-law, Chrys, for their selfless sacrifices over the past nine years while taking care of my Dad and Mom.
• My wonderful in-laws. Even a few outlaws.
• My sweet nieces and nephews.
• My friends. You know who you are. 
• My Bible! How I cherish that book!
• My church, our pastor and all who make Celebration Church an amazing place to worship.
• Our home sweet home. (Dorothy was absolutely right.) And for our new temp home while we wait for our caretakers house to be built.
• Air conditioning! Living in Texas one must always give thanks for a/c!
• Our jobs -- previous and especially our NEW job as Estate Caretakers.
• Our vehicles, old and tired but still running. 
• An abundance of food.
• Clean, clear water from every faucet in my house.
• Living in America with all the privileges and blessings that come with it, despite my sincere aggravation with our government officials.
• The Texas hill country. So beautiful!
• Mountains. Snow. Autumn leaves, especially the golden aspens I miss so very much.
• Good books, most especially those written by friends!
• Our sweet 13-year-old Dachshund, Copper. Bad breath and all.
• Lastly, I'm thankful for the life God has given me and the desire to share His amazing love with you!

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This week's Prayer Shout-Out Countries are:
USA, United Kingdom, Germany, Russia, Canada, Poland, Ukraine, China, Norway, Spain

Are you wearing your armor??? Part One

This blog post is one I wrote in July 2009. Because the Armor of God is on my mind these days, I thought I'd re-post it and another tomorrow. Because one thing that hasn't changed in those two-and-a-half years is this:

"Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." 1 Peter 5:8

Be prepared!!
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Hubby and I were at Southwestern University today and ran across a display of really old, cool relics! Guns, cannons, Conquistador helmets. There was even a small replica of a full suit of armor. Neat stuff, if you love history like me.

Seeing that armor reminded me of the verses in Ephesians 6:10-17. Paul is writing to encourage the church in Ephesus (and us!) and admonishing them to "be strong in the Lord and his mighty power." (v. 10)

In my Bible, those verses appear on page 1824. And it's reeeeally easy to find. Ya know why? Because tucked between pages 1824 and 1825 I have a square of paper--about 2.5 X 3--with the most pathetic drawing of a "soldier" on it. It looks like a 1st grader drew it, but, alas, I have to confess I am the artist. Yes, that's it to the right. I've posted it here for all the world to see. Laugh if you will (and you probably will!), but that crude drawing has taught me some amazing truths over the years!

In this world, we WILL face battles! And we can't possibly win the battles if we're not wearing our armor! Read verses 11 and 12 and you'll know why. "Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

Man, oh man!!

Did you catch that? We're not struggling against each other, although it feels like it sometimes. We're fighting against a much more powerful opposition! Satan himself! And I don't know about you, but I've long come to the understanding that Satan does not want me to be happy or successful or peaceful!! And because I believe that is true with all my heart--and have experienced his attacks!-- I would be absolutely foolish to go out into the world without my armor!

So for the next couple days, I think I'll write about The Armor of God, how important it is in our lives, and some of the lessons I've learned over the years, both from times I was not wearing my armor and from times when I was. I know I need to be reminded about this myself.

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Today's Prayer Shout-Out countries are:
USA, United Kingdom, Sweden, Russia, Poland, Romania, Ukraine

This is not where I belong!

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times (just ask my kids!):

"This world is NOT my home!"


I am not at home in this world. I'm really not. The things of the world don't interest me. Peter knew what I'm talking about. He calls us "aliens and strangers in the world" in 1 Peter 2:11.


Well, now there's a song that expresses my thoughts exactly!! It's "Where I Belong" by Building 429.

Enjoy!

Musings of a Denver Broncos Fan

I've been a Denver Broncos fan a long time. Since they are the only Rocky Mountain NFL team, it left me little choice. For a brief time in college I liked the Oakland Raiders, but it was really more about their black uniforms than anything else. (Hey, I was a college girl. What'd'ya expect?!) But once I discovered the Orange Crush, I never looked back.

Every Super Bowl Sunday, no matter who is playing, I faithfully put on my John Elway jersey and my Broncos baseball cap. I also have a couple old, ratty T-shirts declaring the Broncos Super Bowl champs in 1997 and 1998. Thanks to my wonderful hubby I keep warm all winter in my Broncos Snuggie. Thanks to my sweet friend and fellow Broncos fan, Terri, I drive around town with my Texas license plate framed by a Denver Broncos plate holder and hang Broncos 'candy canes' on my Christmas tree each year. We have a Broncos beanie baby bear and a small Elway jersey my youngest son wore when he was five years old. (Gotta recruit 'em young!)

Yep. I'm a Denver Broncos fan, even when they're losing. The past few seasons I've lost a few bets with our friend Eddie who is, like my hubby, a Dallas Cowboy's fan. (It's the price you pay for marrying a Texan.) One year I had to buy Eddie and his lovely wife a steak dinner because my beloved Broncos did not perform to my expectations. I've done the Mile High salute when we're winning and I've moaned and groaned as I mourned our losses.

But in all the years I've been a Broncos fan, I have never been prouder to say that than I am this year. No, they haven't had a great year. In fact it seemed like they were out of it pretty early in the season. I didn't even make a bet with Eddie this year 'cuz I knew they didn't have a chance.

But then...something happened!

Or I suppose I should say someone happened.

Tim Tebow came on the scene. The Broncos powers-that-be finally decided to give the kid a chance. Did he wow them? Nope. Did he wow the fans? Nope. Even I have to admit his passes are rather, um, imperfect. But one thing about Tim Tebow is that he will not give up! He doesn't let the negativity of the fans or the critics keep him from going out on the field and giving 100%! One of his greatest attributes is that he truly believes he can lead his team to victory, no matter the odds.

And you know what happened? They started winning! This past Sunday night they beat the Steelers in a playoff game with one of the most exciting finishes ever! You can bet I'll be rooting them all the way to the Super Bowl this year!

But as you might guess, my pride isn't all focused on the football field. It's on the quarterback himself. Tim Tebow is a young man who lives his faith in Jesus Christ out loud. Since I'm old enough to be Timmy's mother, I feel an almost motherly pride in that kid. As he himself said, he's been given this amazing platform to proclaim the Gospel message and he won't be silent. He is not an in-your-face evangelical zealot. He shares his faith quietly yet so loudly the entire world is taking notice. As a college quarterback for Florida he wore scripture verses on his eye black. As an NFL quarterback, he is faithful to give God all the glory for any successes that come his way. "Tebowing" is now a common word for anyone taking a knee to offer a prayer of thanks and John 3:16 was one of the most Googled phrases this past weekend after Tim's stats in the game against Pittsburg revealed he'd passed for an awe-inspiring 316 yards.

Yep. I'm a Denver Broncos fan, but I'm also a Tim Tebow fan. I don't know if he'll go down in history as one of the great quarterbacks---he could, given time and practice!--- but I am firmly on his team. I pray he'll continue to handle the fame and fortune with as much grace and integrity as he's shown over the past five or six years of being in the limelight. I pray he'll be an example for young men who want to wait for marriage before they have sex. I pray he'll continue to use his position to do great things in the world, like he's already doing through his foundation. Tim, I believe, fully understands that he is a servant of the Most High God. And like the servant in the story Jesus told in Matthew 25, I am confident when I say Tim Tebow will one day hear the words we all long to hear:

"Well done, good and faithful servant!" (v. 21, 23)

I think I'll order a new Broncos jersey. Tebow's #15!!

(P.S. Here is a link to a great blog by author Randy Alcorn who is friends with Tim Tebow and his parents. It's about how Timmy spoiled Randy's upcoming weekend by winning against the Steelers.)

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This week's Prayer Shout Out countries are:
USA, Russia, Kenya, United Arab Emirates, China, Indonesia

The Secret of Being Content

I had a revelation today.

"I am content." 


This occurred to me while I was working hard. In someone else's house. A house much bigger than mine, filled with much nicer things. On a day when many of my writer friends are in St. Louis, Missouri having a blast at the national American Christian Fiction Writers' conference, a conference I dearly love to attend when I can. But these days there is barely enough money in the bank for necessities and certainly none for extravagances like a trip, even to a writing conference.

It would be easy to mope around and gripe and complain about the unfairness of life. "Why are some people rich while others aren't? Why do some people seem to have things so easy but others don't?" On and on. I admit there are days when I do ask those questions. I can whine right along with the best of 'em about my needs. My wants. My desires. Wah, wah, wah!

But lately I've come to truly understand---truly appreciate!---how blessed I am. How rich I am despite not having any money in the bank. Despite having old vehicles, too many bills, and mounting debt with two kids in college. Despite a dead yard and cracked foundation because of the severe drought. Despite disappointments in my writing career.

I've come to understand that I am content in spite of all that.

Now, don't mistake the word "content" as meaning I'm somehow complacent or apathetic. That I've given up and have just accepted my lot in life. That's not at all what I mean by contentment. I'm talking about an inner peace so tangible, so real that there is no other explanation other than God working in me, helping me get to this point. Helping me fully appreciate my husband, my sons, my home, my health, my job, my church, my friends, my family, my country, my world.

The Apostle Paul was content too. While he was in prison he wrote:

"...for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:11-13)


Without God's strength, I doubt any of us could be content, especially sitting in prison. Paul wasn't always content. If you look at what he wrote he said he'd "learned" the secret of being content. Sometimes it takes years to learn something. I think most of our lives are spent learning things. Like how to be content. How to live at peace. How to be the person God created us to be. Often there are daily lessons, daily trials or pop quizzes, if you will. Sometimes I pass. Sometimes I fail. Lately, though, I'm passing more than I'm failing. Why?

Because I am content. 


I am not rich. I am not brilliant. I am not beautiful. I am not hugely talented. I am not hugely successful by the world's standards. But I am content.

And to me, that is far, far better than all those other things combined.

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This week's Prayer Shout-Out countries are:
USA, India, Russia, Ukraine, Germany, Indonesia

When You've Been Wronged...

I thought about someone today that I haven't thought of in ages. I can't even remember her name, but she is a part of my memories, tucked way in the back where you put things you'd rather not remember. She was a classmate when we were in junior high school. Like many of you, junior high school was not the highlight of my life! I was bullied in junior high, although I didn't know that was what it was called. I was a shy, skinny girl. Although I had friends, I wasn't popular. The two times I clearly remember being bullied happened on the school bus (which is why my own kids NEVER rode the school bus!). One time a girl named Silvia pegged me as a target. I have no clue why because I certainly never did anything to antagonize her. I remember one day when we arrived at school. We got off the bus and she made a beeline to me. I don't recall her exact words, but it went something like:

"Do you wanna fight me?"

I'm sure I looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck! "No!" I gasped. "I don't wanna fight."

That seemed to give her pause. She said okay and we were friends after that. Weird.

The next time I was bullied by a boy. I've always heard that when a boy bullies a girl he must like her. Yah right. This creep--can't remember his name--sat behind me in the school bus. I liked sitting toward the back 'cuz that's where the "cool" kids sat. Not that I was cool by any means but I guess I was a wanna-be. Anyway one day this boy who supposedly liked me according to the experts spit in my hair. Yep. A big, nasty wad of saliva. I was horrified! I'm sure I told him to quit but being that I was meek and mild in those days--unlike now!--I didn't make a big deal about it. A few days later he sat behind me again. It was a pleasant afternoon and the bus windows were open as we traveled home. As we were driving along, this boy stood up behind me, reached over my shoulder, took my Peanuts comic book off my lap and threw it out my open window.

Can you believe that?! I couldn't either.

I can still see in my mind's eye my little green book with Snoopy on the front, lying on the road as the bus continued down the street. I remember tears coming to my eyes. I don't know if I said anything to that boy, but I know I never sat in the back of the bus again.

But both of those events pale compared to what this unnamed girl did.

One fall day I wore my brand new coat to school. It was a thing of beauty. Made from faux blue suede, it had faux white fur at the cuffs and collar with silver snaps. My sweet mom had splurged on that coat because I wanted it.

Well, apparently this classmate of mine thought my new coat was a thing of beauty too. Just a few days after I wore it to school for the first time, it disappeared. I was in choir that year and we had to walk across the street to get to the classroom. I carefully placed my new coat on a chair, like everyone else did, and went on to practice our upcoming Christmas songs.

But when class was over, my coat was gone. It was no where to be found. I can still vaguely remember the panic I felt and I can still vaguely remember telling my mother about the whole thing. I don't remember her reaction, but I'm sure she was peeved. At me, for losing the coat, and at the thief. Days went by and no coat turned up, so Mom finally took me to the store again and bought me another identical coat. Even though it looked just like the original, I never enjoyed wearing that coat.

And do you know what that thief had the nerve to do? She showed up to school two weeks later wearing MY coat! She'd cut out the label where my mom had written my name--my mom ALWAYS wrote our names on everything! To this day I wonder what she thought when I looked at her wearing my coat. I knew she knew I knew that was my coat. But what could I do about it?

I don't believe I've ever actually said the words "I forgive you" to her until today. Like I said, I can't even remember her name. But this morning I thought about her. I wondered what her life is like now. I wondered what her life was like back then in the 70's. Did she steal my coat because her family couldn't afford one? Did she continue stealing and end up in jail? Does she ever think about me and my coat and feel sorry for doing it?

I'll never have the answers to those questions, but God knows where she is and who she is. He knows everything about her. If she ever stumbles across this blog, I want her to know I forgive her. I even forgive that creep, er, boy who spit in my hair.

I have wronged people and people have wronged me. Some were petty, some were pretty serious. Some were life-altering. But all of it, no matter how great or how small, must be forgiven.

"For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." ~Jesus in Matthew 6:14-15

And Jesus knows a thing or two about being wronged, don't you think?

Things I learned at Kohl's...

My brief stint in the world of retail taught me a few things and I thought I'd share them with you, my faithful readers. Here they are in no particular order:

There are rude people in the world.

That may not be a "newsflash" but I was stunned at how many rude people are out there. Truly. The inconsideration of most of the general public was astonishing. People--not just children--knock things off shelves and hangers and never pick them up. Some even walk over items laying on the floor. Shoppers unfold towels and T-shirts and blankets, look them over, then shove them back on the shelf without even attempting to re-fold them. Vast numbers of people take umpteen items to the dressing rooms to try them on, only to leave them lying on the floor, hangers strew about haphazardly. Some shoppers even rip open plastic packages to see if the underwear or socks will fit, apparently decide they won't fit, then leave the unsalable and torn package on the floor. It was unbelievable.

Retail employees are underpaid and overworked.

Again, this is not a "newsflash" but as one who had really never given it any thought, I was surprised at the amount of work they are expected to do for so little money. It is truly a "thankless" job.

30 minutes after closing

Do you know what happens inside the store for the next 30 minutes after the store closes? The poor, tired, underpaid employees re-fold everything all those thoughtless, inconsiderate shoppers unfolded. Yes, every employee, no matter what department they work in, are required to stay 30 minutes after closing to help fold. Even on those ridiculous nights stores are open until 11PM or midnight, you will find weary employees folding towels, a gazillion T-shirts, rugs, baby clothes, jeans, jeans, and more jeans. Everything must be put back to right so that the next day all those thoughtless, inconsiderate shoppers can come back and unfold them.

I hope I never, ever have to work in retail again. But I will tell you one thing: My respect and admiration for the people that do has grown exponentially! I will never again take for granted a nicely folded shirt or pair of jeans next time I go shopping.

I hope you won't either!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my Mom's 83rd birthday! Happy Birthday, Mom!!

I wish I could tell her myself. I wish I could call her on the telephone and sing "Happy Birthday" to her. I wish I could send her some flowers or a funny card that would make her smile. Even though 700 miles separate us, I'd still like to help make her day special.

But I won't do any of those things.

You see, the very sad reality is that my mom doesn't know who I am. She probably doesn't even know it's her birthday. My mom has Alzheimer's Disease.

I've never known anyone with Alzheimer's until now. It's a mean disease. It robs the victim of the person they once were. It has robbed my mom of decades of memories. She and my dad were married for 56 years before Daddy passed away in 2007. My mom doesn't remember him. She can't recall his name when she looks at his picture. Not even when he was a young man.

And because she doesn't remember that she was married, she certainly doesn't remember having five children, eight grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

I will never understand, at least in this lifetime, why my mom had to suffer with Alzheimer's Disease in these final years of life. She was a God-fearing, Jesus-loving woman. She loved her husband and her children. She did her very best as our mother. She taught Sunday School as long as I can remember. She held backyard Bible school's during the summers when I was growing up. She served her church faithfully. She taught other peoples' children for 25 years in the public school system. She was a good woman by the world's standards. She was a faithful servant by God's standards.

And yet she was not spared from this mean, mean disease.

I don't understand. But I accept it. She did too. She knew the disease was coming. She didn't know why, but she knew it would steal her away from us.

One day in the not too distant future my mom will be whole again. She will smile and laugh and sing and dance. She will know everyone around her. She'll see her loved ones again. She'll see my dad. She'll be Home.

Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you with all my heart!

Mr. B and Me

Once upon a time there was a liberal named Mr. B and a conservative named Michelle. Michelle worked for Mr. B and his wife in their home. Over the years they became more than employer/employee. They became friends. Family in many ways.

One day Mr. B asked Michelle, "What do you think about politics?"

And so began the first of many, many discussions, not only on politics but on religion, family, hopes, dreams and anything else the two could think of to talk about.

Mr. B passed away in 2007. I miss him dearly. I miss our chats. After Mr. B suffered a stroke in 2002, I was in his home four times a week to help with his care and the care of the house while Mrs. B focused on getting him strong again. During those years of his recovery, we spent a lot of time just talking. One of his favorite topics was politics. Our conversations took place during the Clinton years--Mr. B liked Clinton but disapproved of his personal failings-- and President Bush's first term.

Now, I was not a blind fan of President Bush, but I like the guy. Mr. B did too, although not as a president. I would like to know what Bush's presidency would have looked like had 9/11 not happened, but that's not possible. Iraq and the war cannot be summed up as good or bad, black or white. There's a lot of gray area in my opinion. Taking Saddam Hussein out of power was absolutely a good thing. The mess that followed was not. Had the world been on board with us, things would have been different. But the world seems to think we're a "global community" only when it comes to tourism and making money. War and fighting evil dictators is not their business.

Mr. B and I never agreed on Iraq. He felt the whole thing was a disaster. I see his point. One just has to watch the news to see that. But when asked if taking Saddam H. out of power was a good thing, Mr. B had to agree that it was. We both agreed it should have been done a decade sooner though, after Saddam invaded Kuwait.

Abortion was one of those topics Mr. B struggled with. He believed in the sanctity of life, but also believed a woman should be able to choose what happens to her own body. Someone close to him once had an abortion and I think it was hurtful to think of it in terms of "killing a baby." When he told me that, I never brought up the subject again. There was no need.

Obama was just coming on the scene when Mr. B took a turn for the worse. His cancer was back with a vengeance. When I asked him what he thought about Obama, he frowned. "I don't think he has enough experience to be president." I wholeheartedly agreed!

Gay marriage was another thing we agreed on. Neither of us was for it.

Which brings me to another topic Mr. B enjoyed discussing with me: Religion and Christianity.

He and Mrs. B grew up Methodist but admit they'd let their church going slip over the years. Once they retired to our town, they made a point of becoming involved in the local Methodist Church. By that time I'd grown much deeper in my own walk with the Lord and I was sometimes amazed at how childlike Mr. B's questions could be. Yet, aren't we all continuously growing in spiritual understanding and maturity? None of us has "made it" or received a diploma from God saying we've got our degree in Spiritual Maturity and can now quit learning. I suppose it was because Mr. B was so much older and wiser about many topics that I expected him to know more about the Bible and God than I did.

One particular discussion comes to mind.

Mr. B wanted to know if I thought all religions lead to God. Well, yes, ultimately. Every single person, whether Christian, atheist, Buddhist, Muslim or whatever will one day stand before God. THE God! The one and only God! So, in a sense, yes, all religions lead to God. But not all religions lead to heaven, and that is where Mr. B and I parted ways. He didn't see how God could condemn good people to hell because they didn't know Jesus as their Savior. I quoted John 14:6 until I was blue in the face, but he never did agree with me.

Yet in all these discussions...over a decade of conversations...not once did we resort to calling each other names. Not once did we raise our voices and demand that the other agree with us. Not once did Mr. B dismiss my opinion because we differed and not once did I dismiss his. We respected each other. We respectfully disagreed. We didn't get all offended and huffy when the other couldn't be swayed. Name calling, angry outbursts. They don't bring anything positive to a discussion and I'm glad we didn't resort to that.

I miss my liberal friend.

I wish there were more Mr. B's in the world!

It's good to say YES to God!

I hope you had an amazing Easter! I certainly did! I was privileged to sing in our church's choir this year at six services (2 Saturday and 4 Sunday). The really exciting part is that a total of 8,401 people attended all of the services and 344 adults were saved!! (There were a lot of kids saved too, but I don't have the numbers.) Whoohoo! 344+ people had their names written in the Book of Life! Man! That is what it's all about, folks!

So this morning I was sharing all this with one of my clients and somehow we got onto the subject of baptism. I told her my story and I decided I'd tell you too.

As I've mentioned many times on this blog, I grew up in church. I've known who Jesus is and have loved him all my life. But it wasn't until I became a mother myself that I finally truly understood the love God has for us. I had all of Jesus up to that point in my life, but he didn't have all of me. So in May 1993 I surrendered everything and have never looked back!

Well, somewhere around 2001, God decided to test me. It wasn't some big scary, hairy test. I didn't have to go to the jungles of Africa or the snowy fields of Russia. I didn't have to sacrifice my oldest son or sell my house and give the money to the poor.

God simply asked me to be baptized.

Now, that doesn't sound like any big deal, right? I mean, Christian's are baptized all the time. Every Sunday in some denominations. I "think" I was baptized as a kid (although it would have been by sprinkling and not by submersion). I say "think" because I don't remember it and neither does my mom. But that's kinda normal because I was the youngest of five kids. My parents remember when I was born and when they paid my college tuition. Everything in between is kind of a blur.

The church we were attending at the time had a very nice portable baptismal that sort of reminded me of a hot tub. I'd seen plenty of people 'dunked' and I knew how meaningful and special it is.

But I did not want to be dunked!

I can't really tell you why. Probably vanity. I didn't want to parade in front of the whole congregation in wet clothes with wet hair. So I came up with "fleeces." You know, like the story of Gideon in Judges 6:36-40. He tested God to see if what God asked him to do was really what God meant. Well, it was. My fleeces, however, were more like roadblocks to baptism. I told the Lord, "I'll be baptized if it can be done in a river." I even told my pastor that. He laughed.

I fought God on this baptism thing for over a year!

Every time we'd have a baptismal service, I'd feel the Holy Spirit nudging me. I'd nudge back and remind him about the river-fleece. Seems kinda silly looking back now. Finally, when the announcement came one Sunday in May 2003 that the next Sunday would be a baptismal service, I gave in.

"All right, Lord," I said. "I'll be baptized next week...if that's what you want."

Secretly I hoped he'd tell me to wait for the river, but he didn't. Sunday arrived. Two other people were supposed to be baptized too, but they ended up not coming. I was the lone dunkee. Pastor asked me to share why I was doing this, because some people were probably a bit curious about the whole thing. I mean, there I was, a leader in the church, doing something that people usually do when they are first saved. I shared my story and then climbed into the warm water. By that point I didn't care about my hair or my clothes. I just cared about God, smiling down on me, saying, "It's about time, Michelle!" :)

I was already saved when I was baptized. I already knew Jesus as my Savior. But---and please don't take this as me comparing myself to Jesus, 'cuz I'm not!!!---Jesus himself was baptized. (Matthew 5:13-17) His was an act of obedience and that's what God wanted me to understand. He wanted my obedience. The baptismal itself was secondary.

I try not to argue with God when he asks me to do something. I know it's for my own good. I know He has an amazing plan and if I'll just stick with him and be obedient, He'll do amazing things in and through me!

It's good to say YES to God!!

I give in!

OK. I confess. I've been a hater of technology. I resisted the Internet when it first became available. I'm not big on TV watching and don't like cable/satellite--too much garbage! And I reeeeeeally didn't want to get into the whole world of texting! It just seemed silly. Why not just call the person instead?

Well....

Today I officially give up my dislike of all things technological.

Why, you ask?

I'll tell ya.

I'm in Santa Fe, NM as I write this post. My hubby and kids are back in Texas. Thanks to technology, I haven't missed them nearly as much as I would have without it. I was "with" them yesterday while they waited for their lunch at Chili's. (I called hubby on his cell phone.) I saw that hubby had rented a movie for the evening via RedBox. (Read the e-mail confirmation.) I knew my boys had their friends over to hang out. (Text from #1 son.) Technology has kept me close to my loved ones even though I'm 700 miles away.

But the thing that finally convinced me today that technology isn't the hairy monster I've always thought it to be was this: I was able to join my church family via LiveStream this morning!!

Our awesome church, Celebration Church in Georgetown, TX Live Streams all of their Sunday services. I sang along with them. I prayed with them. I took notes just like I would if I'd been there while listening to Pastor Joe bring an amazing message on "What Fuels You?" I even got to see my sweet hubby's head in the crowd!!

I still believe there is too much evil going through the airwaves and along the world wide web highways and byways. Satan has definitely claimed television, radio and Internet as a tool of his trade.

But now I see that God is alive and well on the Internet, too!! He is using technology for His purposes and His will and that's awesome!

Fear Not Tomorrow...

Unbelievable! A new year is less than 48 hours away and I am not ready! Where, oh where did 2009 go, I ask?! Perhaps because it was such an eventful year for our family, it simply flew past without me realizing it. But as I look back at 2009, I see God's hand and His mercy and His favor on our family!

For starters, my hubby began the year unemployed after being with the same company for 23 years. In March he began working for FedEx. We feel extremely blessed and know that God continues to provide for our family through this new job, even if it is the most exhausting work he's ever done!

Next, our oldest son graduated from high school! Hip-hip-hooray! And not only did he graduate, he moved to Dallas and started tech school where he is doing amazingly well! Woot!

In the midst of all this, our youngest son started dating and obtained his driver's permit. OY VEY! 'Nough said. (But he truly is turning into a neat young man!)

What will 2010 hold?

Only God knows and I think that's the way it should be, don't you? If we could look into next year and know what was coming, would we be happy? Fearful? Joyous? Depressed? A couple days ago I started reading a new devotional by Ruth Graham. It's called "Fear Not Tomorrow, God is Already There." And isn't that a wonderful truth to wrap your mind around? Especially as we head into a new year?

God is already there, folks! He already knows what 2010 holds for each of us. We don't need to know, because He already does! There is no reason to fear. There is no reason to fret. God is already there! That doesn't mean that everything will be rosy and without problems. That doesn't mean nothing bad will happen in 2010.

It simply means that God is already there!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! May God pour out His richest blessings on you in the coming 365 days!

If Only my Daddy had Known...About DYSCALCULIA!

My dad was a Mechanical Engineer. The man was smart! All things mathematical were easy-shmeasy for him.

Not so for his youngest child, I'm afraid.

I. CAN. NOT. DO. MATH. Period!

I clearly remember bringing home math homework and asking Dad for help. He was not a patient man and he didn't have a lot of free time. Thus, two-plus-two-plus-a-kid-who-does-not-do-math equaled some very unpleasant homework sessions! Daddy would end up frustrated and angry because I wasn't trying hard enough to understand. Bless his heart, I really was trying, but I just couldn't get it. The way I describe it is like this: I'm on one side of an ENORMOUS, TALL, THICK brick wall; the answer to the math problem is on the other side. I know the answer is there, but there is simply no way for me to scale that wall to reach it.

All these years later, I still can't do math or anything number related. I'm talking easy stuff here, folks. Counting change at the store sends me into a panic! I refuse to have a garage sale because I would have to make change for someone buying $2.50 worth of stuff with a $20 bill! I constantly transpose numbers in our checkbook, so hubby handles all the bills.

I'm also not good with directions like north, south, etc., knowing which is right or left, estimating time, knowing measurements, putting things together using instructions, and so on.

Well, low and behold, there may be a reason for all of this!

It's called DYSCALCULIA! It's a true learning disorder akin to Dyslexia. Studies show the areas in the brain that calculate math and similar problems basically misfires or doesn't fire at all in people with Dyscalculia.

The following symptoms describe Dyscalculia. They also describe Michelle Shocklee to a T! My comments are italicized.

1. Frequent difficulties with arithmetic, confusing the signs: +, −, ÷ and ×. (The signs themselves weren't a problem. I have nothing against these innocent symbols. It's those rotten numbers that are evil!)

2. Difficulty with everyday tasks like checking change and reading analog clocks. (Oh yeah!!!)

3. Inability to comprehend financial planning or budgeting, sometimes even at a basic level; for example, estimating the cost of the items in a shopping basket or balancing a checkbook. (My poor, poor husband has been dealing with this for 22+years!)

4. Difficulty with multiplication-tables, and subtraction-tables, addition tables, division tables, mental arithmetic, etc. (NEVER could memorize them!)

5. May do fairly well in subjects such as science and geometry, which require logic rather than formulae, until a higher level requiring calculations is obtained. (I did not do well in either of those!)

6. Difficulty with conceptualizing time and judging the passing of time. May be chronically late. (I'm not a late person, but the passage of time has no measurement for me.)

7. Particularly problems with differentiating between left and right. (My husband often tells me: "No, your other right.")

8. Difficulty navigating or mentally "turning" the map to face the current direction rather than the common North=Top usage. (Yep!)

9. Having particular difficulty mentally estimating the measurement of an object or distance (e.g., whether something is 10 or 20 feet (3 or 6 metres) away). (Yep!)

10. Often unable to grasp and remember mathematical concepts, rules, formulae, and sequences. (Oh yeah! Just ask my Dad--except he's in heaven, so you can't!)

11. An inability to read a sequence of numbers, or transposing them when repeated, such as turning 56 into 65. (Yep!)

12. Difficulty keeping score during games. (I've always wondered why I can't keep score!)

13. Difficulty with games such as poker with more flexible rules for scoring. (Refuse to play games that require adding and/or keeping track of numbers!)

14. Difficulty in activities requiring sequential processing, from the physical (such as dance steps) to the abstract (reading, writing and signaling things in the right order). (Not so much of a problem, though I can't two-step worth a flip!)

15. May have trouble even with a calculator due to difficulties in the process of feeding in variables. (I just have to laugh! I can't do math even with a calculator!)

16. The condition may lead in extreme cases to a phobia or durable anxiety of mathematics and mathematic-numeric devices/coherences. (Remember the store and garage sale panic attacks!?)

17. Low latent inhibition, i.e., over-sensitivity to noise, smell, light and the inability to tune out, filtering unwanted information or impressions. (Yep!)

18. Might have a well-developed sense of imagination due to this (possibly as cognitive compensation to mathematical-numeric deficits). (Um, ya think?! I live and breathe fiction. 'Nough said!)

Dyscalculia.

If only my Daddy had known.

A Mother's Heart...

I had my first work published in 1996. It was a poem called "A Mother's Heart." It is below. Strange how insightful I was back then when my little boys were only 5 & 3. These words are painfully true today as I move my oldest son to Dallas to begin his life as a college man, living away from home.

"He came into the world
A tiny new life.
So helpless and needy
He is my heart's delight.

Small legs grew strong and sure
And as an autumn leaf in a gentle breeze
He was carried away from me.
He is my heart's sadness.

Every inch that he grows
Every accomplishment made
A feeling wells up from within.
He is my heart's pride.

A man, they call him now
A tiny babe I see.
A life of his own he wants to begin.
He is my heart's sorrow.

Farewells are bittersweet
He turns to go, then waits.
"I love you, Mom," he whispers.
He is my heart's joy!"

A time to...

Today was my oldest son's last day at home as a "kid." We move him to Dallas tomorrow to his very first apartment. He'll start school on June 17.

GASP!

Where have the years gone? When did the little boy of yesteryear turn into a man?

God's word is ever helpful in times like this. Instead of starting my Bible reading in Genesis today, I turned instead to Ecclesiastes 3:1-8:

"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace."

God's plan is perfect. There is a time for everything. I thought about my son, Taylor, as I read these verses this morning. There is a time for everything, even for letting go of a precious child who is no longer a child. He's a young man. God has things for Taylor to do that don't include me.

Funny how difficult those words are to write, and yet my heart knows the truth of them. But for the past 18 years, I've been at the center of Taylor's world. It's a bit hard to take knowing that I won't be after tomorrow.

But there is a time for everything. Tomorrow I will...

...uproot...weep...mourn...scatter...embrace...refrain...give up...throw away...be silent...speak...love...hate (leaving him)...

But I'll also have peace. Peace from God above, who is Taylor's Father and Savior and Friend.

Lord, eighteen years ago you blessed us with a beautiful son. When he was but a few weeks old we dedicated him to You, acknowledging that while You allowed us to raise him and love him and enjoy him, he is ultimately Yours. Father, guide Taylor all the days of his life. Speak to him so he can hear your voice. Remind him to walk in your ways always. He is yours.