Tag Archives: Mothers

What brings security for a mom?

13 May

Walking by Faith, Not by Sight

Janet Perez Eckles



God chose to bring me into this world on a cold spring morning in La Paz, Bolivia. My mom sat up on that old, unsteady bed in a worn-out clinic.

“The baby…the baby…it’s coming,” she shouted.

The woman looked up as she sat on a squeaky chair. She sipped her coffee. “Sorry, Señora. The midwife went home for lunch.”

With sweat beads on her forehead, my mom pressed her hand on her stomach. Tears fell and she anguished with no one to help her deliver me.

Finally, the woman put her cup down and went to the door. “Can anyone help?” she called out into the courtyard. “A baby is coming.”

The delivery started, and I was born lacking adequate medical care.

That first year, with me in her arms, she stood in long lines to get a loaf of bread and some wilted carrots. The recent revolution in La Paz had turned the economy upside down. Everything was scarce except for Mom’s love.

Years later, we followed the daily routine. I sat before her on a box we used as a stool. “Someday we’ll leave Bolivia,” she said as she braided my black hair.

That day came after four years of preparation to meet the U.S. Immigration requirements. We sold all we had. And Mother and Father worked night and day to earn enough money for airplane tickets.

And that airplane took us to a special place. As a young girl, Mom had read the Spanish translation of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” which took place on the shores of the Mississippi River. Her dream was to someday visit those places.

And that’s how St. Louis, Missouri, became the city where we began our new life.

But the adjustment to the unfamiliar territory in America wasn’t as beautiful as the stories in those books. My parents, my younger brother nor I read or spoke English. Unable to understand food can labels, we ate cat food, thinking it was tuna.

Sixth grade girls surrounded my desk, pointed at me, whispered to each other and giggled. My pierced ears in 1964 was an oddity causing astonishment.

But Mom set the example. Her job was hard on her emotions. She endured harsh treatment and humiliation. And her lack of fluency in English kept her there for many years.

She sat at the kitchen table, reading her Bible while tears flowed.

And through her strength, she nurtured us, protected us and taught us perseverance. All served to mold my childhood.

Decades swept by. And unexpectedly, I had to enter another unfamiliar territory. My blindness at 30 thrust me into a dark, terrifying world.

But like Mom, God’s Word gave me eyes to see beyond my blindness. With headphones on, I heard the Bible.

God’s strength fueled my days to do the tasks of cooking, cleaning and doing laundry while unable to see. When obstacles came, God promised me His grace would remove them and cover my mistakes.

I was born in a third-world clinic. But God ushered me into a first-class place where His riches are available. His blessings abound. And when my days as a Mom turn difficult, I ease into His arms to soothe my soul and bring security back.

To those dear moms, I hope you have the happiest Mother’s Day ever!


VIDEO OF THE WEEK SNEAK PEEK   https://youtu.be/O8lt7uWvSuw

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Source: What brings security for a mom? ~ Janet Perez Eckles


12 May

From the Heart

Louise Gibson



What does a mother say to her children
at the end of her days-
Those she has loved in so many ways?


“Oh, what joy I felt in my heart
when I was informed that new life
had its start.


Each of you was a blessing from above-
a gift of God-
the symbol of love.


Each is unique-
Not one is the same.
You are loved and admired
for who you are; what you became.


Your talents are many-
Thank God for each one.
They will nurture your being
when the day is done.


God will supply the strength
to face each new day-
I will be with you in spirit
every step of the way.

I Love you.





Quote from Max Lucado:

“God knows that we are only pilgrims and that eternity
is so close that any “Good-bye” is, in reality, a
“See you tomorrow”.





I AM Breaking a Big Rule

15 May

Blackberry blooms copy

On the Porch 

Onisha Ellis

I am breaking a big rule of blogging today. I am going to ramble, go off topic, bounce around. I am NOT going to stay focused. Why oh why would I commit this crime? Because I can. Because that is what my brain is doing. So let’s rock and ramble!


I enjoy eating boiled eggs. For seventy calories I can grab a God created protein snack. I do not enjoy boiling them and peeling them is even worse. So this Easter when Facebook was filled with posts about baking your eggs in the oven I joined the frenzy and tried. It worked!! They peel like a dream even a week after I baked them! My eggs had a slight brown spot on the egg white but it was very easy to flick off.

Here is the “recipe” and you can visit Unsophisticook! to read the complete story.


How to Bake Hard Boiled Eggs


Total Time: 40 minutes



ice water


  1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
  2. Place desired number of eggs in a regular or mini muffin tin and bake for 30 minutes.

Remove eggs from oven and, using a pair of tongs (I like these tongs with rubber tips from OXO), immediately transfer the eggs to an ice water bath. Allow to cool down for at least 10 minutes.


I have been working my way through book blogger websites, looking for bloggers who would be willing to accept an ARC (advanced reader copy) of Rebekah Lyn’s (otherwise known as my daughter Beck) upcoming release, Jessie. I feel the same anxiety I felt when I left her with a babysitter, sent her off on her first sleepover and drove her to college. Do mothers EVER get over the instinct to protect their children? I am pretty sure I have spent more time praying over my children in their adult like than I did when they were little tykes.

If you happen to be a book blogger or just enjoy reading and reviewing, speak up in comments and I will email you an ARC.

I am humbled and thankful that my BFF Pam has joined the Rebekah Lyn Books team as a marketing and Publicist assistant. Launching Jessie and planning Teas has so many elements to pull together, I was feeling totally overwhelmed.


My heart has been filled with prayers for a sweet thirteen year old, Kylie Myers who is receiving chemo for a rare cancer. You can visit her Facebook page Smiiey For Kylie. She has had a rough time adjusting to having cancer and the side effects of chemo.

Her dad is author Mark Myers who wrote Virgil Creech Takes a Swipe at Redemption.

When I think of Kylie, I wish she could meet my friend Wanda and her daughter, Allie who has been on a similar chemo schedule with Kylie. Allie shines with joy and confidence in Christ and my faith is made stronger when I see her on Facebook rocking the headscarf or sporting the smooth head style with her brother.

That’s the end of my ramble. There is a lot more in my brain such as why does the male cardinal insist on constantly banging his head on anything shiny, but that is for another day. Our blackberries are in full bloom and the locals say if we get a frost while they are blooming, our winter will be called a blackberry winter. Temps are expected to drop this weekend so we will see, I like blackberry blossoms because they remind me the flower of life is beautiful and even though there will be thorns, the fruit will be delicious.








Mom’s Handwriting

8 Dec


 Judy Wills



 My Mother’s handwriting was really beautiful.  From what I understand, she and my Aunt Jessie were taught “penmanship” in school.  Not only is that not taught in today’s schools, but I’m afraid that cursive writing is a thing of the past.  I suspect it will be as difficult for our grandchildren to read as the Old English is to us.  What a pity.

In any case, I loved getting letters from Mom.  While she nearly always hand-wrote all her letters, I always type out mine.  My handwriting is terrible!  Almost unintelligible!  But Mother wrote lovely, loving letters and I enjoyed them all.

As I was growing up, we never heard of automatic dishwashers, so I learned to wash and hand-dry the dishes from our meals.  Since the humidity in Albuquerque, New Mexico was very low – very dry – it didn’t take long for those dishcloths (T-towels, we called them) to dry out.

One Christmas I received a set of T-towels from my Mother, that she had hand embroidered for me.  Now, embroidered T-towels were not a novelty, but these were special.  Mother had written out some “sayings” and embroidered those sayings on the T-towels.  I told her once that I would always have her “with me” – since I had her handwriting on those towels!  Here are the things she wrote:

I used those towels until they literally had holes in them, before purchasing new ones.  I don’t know how to embroider – I’ve tried many, many times, but just can’t get the knack of it, so my T-towels will remain plain.

But I always have the ones my Mother made especially for me – in her own handwriting.  They are treasures for me.

Mother Said

1 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

This week I wrote the wrong day in my journal. Wait, before you get in a tizzy, think about what Mother would have said. “You’ll never know the difference a hundred years from now.” You’re right, Mother, I thought and went on with what I was doing.

Like most mothers, mine had an abundance of things to say. Sometimes she was joking, or I hoped she was, as when she would say, “Now don’t be afraid of the storm, if lightning strikes you, you’ll never know the difference.” I must say, I have no fear of lightning, so she must have been on the right track. Afraid someone might kidnap you? Here’s what Mother would say: “Don’t worry, the minute they get you under a street light they’ll bring you right back.” Want to run away to Grandmother’s house, but wonder how you’re going to get the fifty miles down the mountain by yourself when you’re only a kid? Mother’s suggestion: “Here’s a nickel, don’t spend it all in one place.”

How about if your dress has a small spot on it and you’re ready to go out the door? “They’ll never know the difference on a galloping horse.”

Mother had some nice saying, too. She learned them from Auntie Elvira her first Sunday school teacher, who was my first Sunday school teacher too. When my brother and I fought the word was, “Be ye kind, one to another, tender, loving, forgiving each other.” Okay, Mom, I’ll try. If I wanted to say something bad about someone who had hurt my feelings she’d caution, “Ask yourself: is it kind, is it true, and do I have to tell it.” At least one of those is going to have a no, so forget it.

Ephesians 6:1 Children obey your parents for this is right.



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