Daddy Greg Honey

It's been one month since our world changed. 
One month of catching my breath when I remember he's gone. 
One month of silent tears at the most random times. 
One month of thinking of life as before and after. 
One month of the rest of our lives that will look different. 

26. That's the number of days between diagnosis and losing him. Such a jarring number to think of in those terms. But y'all... in those 26 days I experienced more love than some people get in a lifetime. I was witness to Mom living her vows out loud, just like she did every day, but in a way that was so beautiful and comforting to us. 

I could share more about those days, and maybe one day I will. But today, I want to share about Daddy Greg Honey (a name he got from Jody when he was little). 

To begin with - my dad has seen the face of God. 

Isn’t that amazing?! 

That could be the total of my words today. That is more than enough to say - he lived and loved and lead a life that allowed him to leave this earth and see the face of God. Amen indeed. 

But because I am who I am and he was who he was, you’re getting more than that from me. 

As I prepped to share these words at his service, I began to make a list of things I wanted people to know about Dad. Seems like a pretty impossible task… there is just too much for me to put into words. 

But as I reflected on the 43 years that I got to spend with him, a few things come to mind. 

He valued community. 

Mom and Dad moved to Texas when she was pregnant with me and I think they were like a major popular new couple in town. My earliest childhood memories are filled with the little league fields, small groups at our home, and days at the swimming pool. With Dad in the center of it all - coaching teams, hosting kids, or letting us all pile on top of him. He was up for fun and never too old or too cool to be with us and our friends. He and mom taught us how to build a village that sustains us. 

He was a good little Italian. 

One of my favorite stories about Dad is when they first moved to Waco and began attending this church, he looked through the directory and found the first “Italian name” in the directory - Ben Leonido. He called up Mr. Ben and let him know they were new Italians in town and asked if he wanted to meet at the back of the church after mass. Mr. Ben of course said yes. Well, after mass that week Dad went to the back of the church and looked all around for his new Italian friend. And then Mr. Ben showed up - a short Filipino man outstretched his hand, introduced himself to Dad and they were instantly best friends. 

He hated being late. 

Bless his heart between his mom, my mom, and sometimes me he was hardly on time. 

He was incredibly patient. (See above). Whether he was teaching my brothers how to play tennis, mow the yard, tie a tie, or change a tire - he would keep doing it as long as it took not just until they got “it” right… but until they felt confident in themselves. He did the same for me, too. 

He called me Princess. 

But he never made me feel too precious to get dirty or try new things or hang with the boys. He made sure I knew I was capable of whatever I wanted to do or accomplish while also making me feel cherished. 

He hardly ever lost his temper.

Seriously … and we know how to push buttons in our house… but I don’t remember him ANGRY very often. We were disciplined for sure, but not with anger. And you would know when he was angry because he’d get a little bit of spit on his bottom lip - and that’s when we got scared. I only saw it twice. Once when I didn’t want to do my homework in the 4th grade and once when I was in college and Jeremy and I spent money on the credit card for some “home improvements” (which Dad knew was just an excuse to throw a party). And there was also that one time Jody drove to Baton Rouge in the middle of the night, but I’ll let him tell you that one. 

He loved Elvis and LSU. 

A lot. He did this funny little dance any time Elvis came on and he loved letting me know that my Aggies were sadly never going to be as good as his Tigers. It only took us several years and 7 overtimes to finally beat them. One day when we were driving into Baton Rouge going over the bridge to our exit, Radley looked over to where the LSU campus is and said, “Pops… I made a decision. I’m going to LSU… And for a split second, my Dad was on cloud nine. and Radley finished by saying, “and then I’m going to a REAL college.”

 

He loved to shop. 

And he was good at it. I loved going shopping with Dad… he wouldn’t just tell me I looked great in something, he knew which colors looked good on me, which cut of a dress I should buy, and which brands would last. And that’s when mom would come in and just say “buy it” - a great dynamic duo. 

He loved his legs. 

Give that man a pair of short shorts and tennis racket and watch out. 

He wanted us to be OUR best more than be THE best. 

A lesson that has stayed with each of us, I think, and something we have hopefully passed on to our kids. Being YOUR best each day, being kind, and doing what’s right above all else is a lesson I am grateful to have learned. 

He took pride in his work.

I loved visiting him at JCPenney - he was just so good at his job. He knew everything there was to know about every corner of that store. I would watch in awe as he solved problems, made sales, and served customers. Customer service has been ingrained into our lives and I’ve taken the example he has set for us and used it in my own work and I know Jody and Jeremy have as well. It’s a lesson that goes well beyond our jobs. It has bled into our lives and how we interact with everyone we meet. I often think about what Dad would do in my own job - how would he lead, how would he serve - what should my strategy be. 

He gifted us his time.

I know he didn’t make every tennis match, band performance, basketball game, or cheerleading commitment… but I can’t remember one time he wasn’t there when we needed him. Our kids would say the same thing. 

He could sleep anywhere. Literally. 

He was present with us. 

Always in the moment, not distracted. He listened. He never quit wanting to learn more. We didn’t have to agree with him which was such a gift. He genuinely wanted to hear our OWN beliefs, why we believed them, and where he could learn more about whatever we were talking about. 

He was a family guy. 

Adoring son. Steadfast brother. Loving cousin. I know we all loved visiting Baton Rouge and watch him with his crew of siblings and cousins. You could see how much they all meant to him and how part of him always wanted to stay a little longer. 

He loved his grandkids. 

Something fierce. His whole face lit up when he was around them. As sad as I am to have lost him, I ache the most that those 6 kids (plus his many other adopted grands) lost him so soon. But I am so grateful for every single moment he spent with them. We spent Thanksgiving sharing what about Pops we were thankful for and here’s what they said:

Owen: Life lessons and playing golf

Radley: The little moments they got to spend together, from running to the store to being outside - he got to spend a lot of alone time with Pops

Kailyn - His sense of humor and making it a priority to spend time with them

Emmy - For how well he loved her - she knew it and felt it

Landry - For every second she got to spend with him and he was the best back scratcher

Keirstyn - For being the best hugger

He loved my mom. 

Abundantly. Fiercely. Faithfully. He valued and honored their covenant for 53 years. They spent more of their life together than apart. He worked so hard to build a life she loved and if you ask her today, she’d say it was a job well done. 

I could type all day about things I want you to know about Dad. But here’s all you NEED to know about him... 

He loved Jesus. 

He followed Christ. 

He lead us to Him. 

As we spent our final days with Dad we got to say all the things we wanted to say. We told him how proud we are to be his and how thankful we are for being loved by him. 

And then he shared with us the same. A gift I will forever be grateful for. A gift I want to share with you. 

He told us he wasn’t scared of death. He confidently knew what was next for him. 

And then he said this:

Make your walk with Christ your own. 

Go to church. 

Know God. 

Love God.

Honor God. 

Be proud to be Catholic and be humbled by the miracle of the Eucharist each time you receive the body of Christ. 

So in honor of Dad, that’s what I ask of you today. Celebrate his life by knowing Christ our King gives us eternal life and fulfills His promise to us that we will meet again.

Know that a life that knows God is a life well lived. 

Just like Dad. 

Thank you, Daddy, for that gift and so many others. We are proud to be yours. 

The day after...

I q-dropped PoliSci. Twice. I just didn't really have any desire to understand how government works when I could be doing more important things like figuring out how to win Derby Days. 

But while my understanding of our complex government may have taken years to comprehend, I have never misunderstood the magnitude of the meaning of democracy, the privilege I hold as an American*, and the importance of leadership in the pursuit of our liberty. 

*It took me longer than I'd like to admit to understand my privilege as a white American.

I grew up believing what the adults around me believed. I remember being so sad when George H.W. Bush wasn't reelected but also not fully recognizing why I was or should be sad. As a 6th grader I had other things to worry about like the growing zit on my nose and the fact that I had an inappropriate crush on our PE student teacher. 

I also remember the letter. You know the one. The one that a great leader wrote to his successor. The letter that took courage, humility, and honor to write. The letter that put others before himself. The letter that focused on the betterment of the people through the example he set. The letter that has become a tradition in an office that should represent all that is great about this country. And while it may not have been a long standing tradition, it was an important one. A powerful one. The notion that a nation could transition between leaders, ideals, passions and visions with mutual respect is something to be proud of as Americans. 

Humility in leadership is one of the most important characteristics a person should exhibit. Knowing when to lead and when to ask for help and better yet, when to admit that you just aren't the best person for a job can determine the legacy you leave. I've spent my career trying to teach that to young adults that will one day rise to lead our classrooms, businesses, hospitals, universities and this great country. I have witnessed them ask for help, seek outside perspectives and continue to grow knowing that they never stop learning, they never know everything. 

But yesterday, we witnessed the opposite of humility. We watched as the leader of our country exhibited such selfishness and greed that he knowingly put our entire country at risk. A hunger for power at all costs. What we witnessed yesterday was not patriotism. It was white supremacy. Insurrection. Treason. Terrorism. In my opinion, an attack that was more harmful than 9/11. These men and women didn't represent outsiders trying to take down the American way, they walked in our nations capitol holding American flags, claiming to represent the ideals of our nation and attempted to destroy almost 250 years of democracy. 

This didn't happen overnight. We watched the fall in slow motion with every lie from his mouth and horrific rhetoric on Twitter. And we won't be able to fix it overnight. Things won't magically change on January 20. It will take more work to undo the harm than it took to create it. 

And while my hope rests in Jesus, the work rests in US.

You and me. The way we speak to each other. The way we help our neighbors. The way we stand up against racism in real time with real actions and not just through a like or share on social media. We have hard conversations with our children. We create space for respectful discourse. We are open to questions and are prepared with answers. We quit blaming the media and start taking ownership ourselves. We do not turn a blind eye to obvious hate. We quit buying into ridiculous conspiracy theories. We acknowledge the injustice of systemic racism and we work to change it. 

We start with me to make it better for we. We each work to become humble, courageous leaders in our homes and communities. That's what I'm telling my kids today... the day after we witnessed us at our worst. There is still hope for us to become our best. 

Three little words...

Wow.

I almost don't even know how to do this anymore. Do I make a new introduction or can I assume you still know who I am?

I've kind of lost my touch. Truth be known, writing brings me a lot of joy... but somewhere along the way I lost it.  If I'm honest with myself, I didn't really lose the joy for writing, I got frustrated that no one seemed to care what I was saying. My ego got in the way. I didn't get enough comments. Friends didn't share my words with others. The only real consistent encouragement I got was from my Momma (thanks, Mom)... but even then it felt more like she wanted to know what the kids were doing and less about what I was writing  (sorry, Mom).

So what brings me here, today?

Well.... to be specific....

Chaos.
Fear.
Uncertainty.
Faith.
Hope.
Love.

All these emotions I'm experiencing have no where else to go but into words.

I committed to reading the bible this year and I'm trying not to let the fact that I am heavily into the Old Testament be a dire sign that God is trying to wipe us clean for the giant mess we've created of this world. I'm sure some of you are feeling some of the same feelings I am. So let's figure out how to get through this together, shall we?

Chaos

Y'all. HEB looks like it was ransacked by some college kids needing a late night snack because they have a case of the munchies. (So I've been told - that is NOT from personal experience). Schools are closed. Conferences cancelled. Entire sports seasons have stopped. Chaos is the only way to describe it. And through so much chaos I can't help but feel a little...

Fear.

This is SCARY y'all. I have tried hiding my tears from my kiddos as best as I can because I don't want them to be scared. But I am SCARED. For my family. For my parents. For my friends. For strangers. Just scared. I need my momma, but I also want her to cover herself in bubble wrap coated in bleach and stay inside a closet for the next 8 weeks, so...there's that. There's also just so much

Uncertainty.

We basically know nothing. I mean, some people know some things, but we don't really KNOW anything.

And that got me thinking about Noah and Abraham and Joseph and Moses... can you imagine the chaos and fear and uncertainty each of them felt? Noah was told to build an ark with very specific dimensions and doing that kind of precise project makes me want to weep. Abraham was told he would be a dad at the ripe old age of 100. Joseph was nearly killed by his brothers. And, poor Moses spent 40 YEARS taking an a 11 day road trip to the promised land that HE NEVER GOT TO SEE.

Chaos.
Fear.
Uncertainty.

But through all of that, they had three things that are even more powerful...

Faith.
Hope.
Love.

Their faith guided them through their darkest hours. Their hope gave them reason to continue in times of chaos. And His love, well, His love is what carried them through... and that same love is what will sustain us today, tomorrow and the days after that.

Dear 30 year old me,

Dear 30 year old me,

In exactly 30 days you will be 40 years old. When Dad turned 40, the entire store of JCP was turned into a graveyard. The "marketing ladies" made tombstones, his office was filled with black balloons, and I think black crepe paper was just about everywhere in the break room.

Needless to say, we thought 40 was "near death" old.

I have other ideas about this milestone age now. But today isn't about nearly 40 year-old us... it's about 30 year-old you and a few things that helped us survive and maybe a few things I wish I would have known... but before we get to that, let's look at us at 30...

I specifically chose this picture because know that it's one of 4 times that you will look this good for the next 10 years. HA! (Shout out to professional hair and makeup for Niki's wedding!)

Life isn't going to be exactly what you planned and that's ok.
Not one single bit of your life can be orchestrated solely by you. It's impossible... and that's what makes it so beautiful. We can get all the degrees we want, pick out the perfect house, say yes to our dream job, and even decide how many kids we want. But we actually control zero parts of what happens to us - and that's life. Every disaster, every success, every challenge, every easy day, every obstacle and every milestone... there's beauty in each piece of our individual puzzles.

No one has a better life than you do, different? Maybe. But not better. 
(Spoiler alert: this is still something we're gonna be working on at 40) Say this to yourself every time you get a case of the greens - you know, jealousy? We all have different stories to tell, and life would be so sad if you missed out on telling yours because you were so wrapped in someone else's. Don't fall for the lie of social media - we all show the highlight reels... but the good stuff, the REAL stuff is important, too. Sometimes it's hard to watch other people do things that you aren't doing and not feel like a "failure." But, there's a strong possibility that those same people are looking at you and wanting a little slice of your life, too.

Get in a selfish routine. 
Sounds weird, right? Don't get me wrong, doing for others is awesome, but making time for yourself is important, too. When you pour into yourself (by reading, relaxing, sleeping, eating well, exercising) then you have a lot more to give to those around you.

It's okay to ask for help.
Asking for help doesn't make you weak - it makes you smart. "It" really does take a village. Raising children, owning pets, working, going to school... even being married takes more than 2 people sometimes. Ask your village for support - they will never let you down.

Cheer on your friends. 
Be excited about the success of your friends - even when you aren't accomplishing big things. Remember that "no one's life is BETTER... just different" lesson? It applies here. Be on the front row, cheer the loudest, support their dreams, buy their products, like their pictures, comment on their blog posts, share their story... CHEER THEM ON!

Recognize the power of no.
Girl. JUST SAY NO. You don't have to be everything to everybody every single day. Those two little letters hold a powerful punch. And by saying "no" more ... you give strength to your "yes!". Sounds weird, but it's true. People will come to realize that your YES means you are committed because you don't give them away so easily. Let's practice, real quick: "Sorry, I can't commit to that right now." ... "I know that I've done this before, but this just isn't my best yes." [Thank you, Lysa T.] ... "It's a no from me." ... "My talents are better suited else where." ... "I've already committed my time other places."

Girlfriends are one of your greatest gifts.
You are going to meet new people throughout your life. Be grateful for the individual role that each woman plays in shaping who you are. Your work friends, your best-friends, your new friends, your old friends... they all have a piece of you and you need every single one of them. Savor that time, appreciate that kinship and foster every single one of those relationships. You will laugh and cry and cheer and scheme. You will solve each other's problems. Your girlfriends are one of this decade's greatest blessings.

Everything doesn't have to happen now.
Believe it or not, you don't have to drive a fancy car, go on exotic vacations, build a dream home, cook lavish meals and also have a six-pack. (Which is great, because, spoiler alert, 10 years later and you still haven't checked off any of those items). AND THAT IS OKAY! We (hopefully) get to live on this earth for a long time... enjoy the season of life you are in without worrying about all the things you haven't done.

Your spouse/partner is not actually trying to drive you crazy.
It may feel like it, but they're not. :)

Your children's favorite toys will be blocks/legos, cars, dolls, books and dress up clothes. 
Don't waste money on the "latest and greatest" fad. They always come back to those five things. The money we would have saved??? We could have gone to Italy and back 15 times by now!

No one has it together. 
Yep. We are all a bunch of big fat fakers. All of us are worried we aren't doing something right, we're messing up our kids, we aren't giving our all at work, we could be better partners... the list goes on. The truth is we are all doing the best we can, and that's all we should expect.

Choose your joy.
By now, you are a broken record at telling the kids "choose your attitude"... sometimes we could use those same words of wisdom. As Ms. Hawkins ended 95% of her announcements in Jr. High... "Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% of how you react to it." There is so much power in our choices to choose joy, happiness, gratefulness... in those moments that have you stressed, worried, angry... choose joy instead.

Seek Him first.
Most important piece of advice in this list. Seek Him first. Seek Him always. There is nothing that we can do to ever lose the love of Christ. You are going to walk through stress, disappointment, anger, fear, joy.... give it all back to Him. The beauty of Christ is that we are never alone... we never have to solve on single problem alone. He is there for all the big and small and hard. Seek Him first.


In closing, you are going to love your thirties. There is such a gentle gift in aging. You begin to focus on the important things, you hold on to the dear things and you let things that don't matter fade. And you finally FINALLY figure out your best hair. Savor every single second of this decade. The best really is yet to come...

Love,
Your older, wiser (and honestly better looking) self.

Wrong way...

I was in the car rider line today and something happened.

(No, it wasn't a left-turner, although if you've followed me on Instagram for half a second, you'd know how I feel about them.)

I looked up and saw a car driving the wrong way - as in the car was trying to exit through the entrance.

Y'all.

The car passed three cars until I saw it, GOT OUT OF MYRTLE (the minivan) and stood in the lane to stop them from continuing.

The car politely waved, turned around then pulled in front of me - in the car rider line.

So, I got out again, walked to the driver window and politely asked, "Are you picking up anyone?"

The sweet driver looked at me so overwhelmed and said, "No... I'm just a substitute teacher... help!"

So I pointed her in the right direction and she was on her way.

And then I (of course) got to thinking.

How many times do we see people doing things "wrong" and never say anything? We blindly ignore them but probably also complain about their actions under our breath. We let them drive the wrong way, take pictures, and shame them on social media rather than approach them and redirect.

Now, let's think about this in terms of something much bigger than a confused driver going the wrong way in a parking lot. How many times do we see or hear people do or say things that are hurtful to others? What do we do about it?

Do we help?
Do we stare?
Do we mumble under our breath about their actions?
Do we PRETEND NOT TO EVEN SEE?
Do we act like we don't understand?
Do we say a quick prayer for Jesus to change a heart, even though He placed you right in front of them for a reason?
Do we share the awkward laugh because it's easier?
Do we hide behind social media?
Do we try to make a difference?

Are we willing to stand in front of that moving car to stop it or do we just watch the car go the wrong way?

{Re}introduction....

I can't believe how long it's been since I've seen this view. I haven't been consistently writing all year and I haven't even opened this space since my last post which stresses me out a little.

But honestly... this break has been rejuvenating. I got to a place where I no longer felt like I was writing for me. I was writing to meet some unwritten checklist that I had created. I started competing against myself to make sure I was blogging "enough". I abandoned something I once loved and became motivated to write to (sadly) gain attention. I was discouraged when I didn't get comments or people didn't respond. I didn't live up to some fake expectations that I created.

So I took a break.

And some days it was hard because I wanted to be here... but I couldn't really find the words. They felt forced and untrue and more than anything I want to be honest. I never want to misrepresent my thoughts and feelings.

So I'm back here, hopefully more regularly. Hopefully with stories of our day mixed with lessons I'm learning along the way.

But most importantly, committed and happy and ready to share.

Glad to have you here with me.

Change...

I sat down today to play catch-up on this neglected space but my darling computer had other plans as noted by the blue screen and inability to upload any pictures. My laptop seems as tired as I do these days. 

Instead, I'll take the next too-many-words to talk about my word for the year.

Change.

2018 is going to bring about change for We5Kings. Specifically, me... but if I change then essentially the whole family changes because, well, #mompower.

Big changes. Little changes. A few changes. Lots of changes.... who knows? That much I haven't really figured out. Here's what I have thought about...

I am going to change the way I treat myself. Plain and simple. We are all our own harshest critics, right? Well... sometimes I am the WORST at comparing myself to... MYSELF. So I'm going to change that.

I am going to change the way I use my time. Too much of my free time has turned into brainlessly scanning social media, getting caught up in the most grandiose headline, or going down a rabbit hole of videos. What a waste of brain power.  I'm setting some reading goals, some family goals and some quiet time goals that will serve me much better in the long run.

I am going to change the way I spend. Let's see what happens when I stick to the ACTUAL list. When I just say no to the cute valentine shirt that the kids clearly don't need and quit making excuses for that drive thru drink. Maybe we'll be rich... or maybe just less poor. HA!

I am going to change the way I communicate. Less behind a screen. More in person or in writing or on the phone. Whoa. That's crazy talk.

And the list will continue... change can be scary and hard. Change means no longer doing something that you've done before. Change means taking a chance... who knows what else change we will do... but I'm excited to find out!

Back to school...

I loved school.

LOVED it.

Every single thing about it. I loved my teachers, my friends, the silly theme days. I loved Friday Night Lights, band concerts, fundraisers and school traditions. I loved being the little sister of the older brothers (and I swear for more reasons than their cute friends.)

I just loved it.

And I just KNEW my kids would love school, too. And luckily, they have each found their groove and enjoy school for some of the same reasons I did.

What I didn't know is that I would also be going "back" to school...but in unchartered parenting territory.

The homework, the paperwork, the theme days, the LUNCH PACKING... I mean... I don't remember ANY of this being work before.

(Thanks, Mom!)

Y'all.

This stuff is tiring.

School was way more fun when I just got to wear cute outfits and show up.

The past two weeks have been parent/teacher conferences at our school. We've met with all the kids' teachers and we are proud that they are (mostly) good listeners, fast learners, and academically on track. But Ryan and I are most grateful that we got to hear how kind they are. Kindness matters so much and as Radley and I were heading home from a fun trip this weekend I noticed a family with two pre-teen girls.

We ended up sitting on the same row as them on the plane. I saw them laughing and pointing as they scrolled through pictures on their phones. Saying hateful and mean spirited things about everyone from celebrities to classmates. These two pre-teen girls while their mom laughed right along.

She didn't stop them. She didn't redirect their behavior. She didn't tell them to turn off their phone. She joined in.

I want to believe that she just wants to be "friends" with her kids - she wants to hang on to every ounce of them while she can. Maybe she wants to connect so they still want to hang out with her. But I also don't believe that it's our job to be "friends" with our kids.

This family could volunteer at a soup kitchen 5 hours a week. They could give every extra penny they have to noble causes. They could spend every Wednesday night in church and lead 15 bible studies. But all those stories of what they do with their time will never measure up to the hatefulness they spread with the seemingly insignificant laughing and pointing at a screen.

This back to school journey will be filled with far more lessons than reading and writing for us as parents. Our job is to teach and model kindness, acceptance, and love. I may not make the "all A honor roll" of motherhood. I won't make every field trip or help every day in the classroom. I'll miss some games and maybe forget to send them to school with crazy socks. And I will absolutely make them mad more times than I can comprehend.

I know my kids are going to be mean. They are going to hurt feelings and make bad choices. They will mess up 100 different times in 100 different ways. And I'll be right there next them, loving them enough to tell them no, make them mad and understand that in the long run... raising kind humans is much more important than raising my best-friend.

Wednesday Words...

As usual, I'm a little behind on throwing my two cents in to the big conversation of the week. Sunday Night football brought much more than tackles and touchdowns... it ignited a furry of angry and a cyclone of support all at the same time.

I wasn't quite sure how to share my voice because I wanted to make sure that my message was clear and concise and compassionate. My whole life kneeling meant reverence.  We kneel before God when we enter a pew, we kneel to pray, some even kneel to take communion. On the sports field we kneel when a player is injured. As a sign of respect. We kneel.

For me, players kneeling in silence is one of the most respectful peaceful protests I have seen. The image that it creates for me is one of hope. Men kneeling during the anthem in the hopes that one day the community to which they belong are seen, heard, valued and loved as much as members of different communities. I don't see disrespect - I see hope.

Many, many, MANY people feel very differently about this. And while I have 1000s of thoughts that I could say a million different ways, I want to share the thoughts of someone else. Chris Field is the founder of Mercy Project and his words are simple and true.

"A few thoughts on the NFL, the national anthem, protests, and Jesus:

Let's start by getting the low hanging fruit out of the way: 1) first amendment obviously applies here, 2) it is different because these guys are on the clock at work (p.s. but so am I right now and so are you), 3) it does seem their bosses have given them permission (either explicit or implied) to do this which makes number 2 a moot point, and 4) we certainly have the right not to support or participate in activities or protests we don't agree with. So that's the obvious/easy stuff. Let's move into the messy part, shall we?

I don't know what it feels like to be a black person in America. I don't know what it feels like to be a minority. I don't know what it feels like to feel unheard and unseen for generations. And neither do most of the people I see talking about this issue. I have consistently asked, and will continue to ask, my white friends to listen more than we speak when it comes to these conversations. To be led rather than trying to lead.

We seem to have forgotten that it is possible to grow up in the same country but with totally different experiences and understandings about fairness and justice. This is where our friends of color are struggling. Same country, same flag, same anthem, totally different life experiences. But we still don't seem to get this. We literally want to tell them that how they feel is invalid or wrong. Have you ever tried that in a marriage or friendship? Doesn't end well! Empathy and compassion are the cornerstones of healthy relationships. We say we want the healthy relationship, but we only want it on our terms. That's not the way this works.

"Hey, why don't you just have peaceful protests instead of rioting and breaking things?"

Done.

"No, not like that," we say, "go peacefully protest where we don't have to see it."

Wait, what? We're fine with you peacefully protesting, but go do it where no one can see you? Come on. We all use our biggest stage for the things that matter most to us. Including our President and his Twitter page. Including you and me right here on Facebook.

And a last note for all my friends who believe in Jesus: I have watched in horror over the last week as these protestors have been called idiots, pieces of trash, and pieces of crap by people I know for a fact are esteemed leaders in our community and in our local churches. And I am here to say as clearly as I can: stop that nonsense. We have failed when we find it easier to become enraged over a national anthem than the kingdom anthem. Nowhere in the Bible does Jesus encourage us to lose our collective minds and tongues, "for the sake of our country." That is absolutely not okay. And I'm sorry if this offends you. But I sincerely hope you will call me out if I ever lose my line so much that love of an ideal has overtaken everything I've ever read and known to be true about the one I call Lord. In the arc of power and justice, Jesus sat at the table with the minority. Constantly. That's not my opinion. That's the Bible.

Be passionate. Hold your ideals. Don't be jerks. It's really as simple as that.

Oh, and it's okay for us to listen more too. Really. So let's turn off our TV's if we must (I haven't watched an NFL game in years). But then let's use that extra time and money we've saved to go out and love and listen to our neighbors whose life experiences are different than our own. Then we can lock arms together and start working towards a life where we all feel equally proud and committed to being on the same team."

And if that doesn't make you pause to think (and that's all I'm really asking anyone to do.... pause....think...seek to UNDERSTAND) then take three minutes and watch this... 

Silence...

If you have met me for more than 2.5 seconds, then you know I am a talker. If you've known me for more than 2.5 minutes then you also know I am a doer. I can't stand to sit still - even on my days "off". If I have a day of nothing but watching tv then it's because I have literally planned it and written down that all I will do is "relax" because then it's just an item I can check from my list. 

#mercy #evenIsoundcrazytomyself #judgeaway

In the past week I have sat with so many of you and just watched the devastation of Harvey. I have checked in with all my people from Houston and surrounding areas and been forced to be miles away as some of them lost everything offering nothing more than a well timed gif and virtual glass of shared wine. (Don't worry about them, they had plenty of alcohol to ease their pain because if we learned anything in college, it was how to drink.) (Just kidding, Mom... I learned that in high school.) 

(See, never at a loss for words.)

The most paralyzing part of all of this disaster is not being able to do anything that I feel is of real significance to help.  Two years ago I shared the lessons from Katrina I learned while serving as a volunteer coordinator on our campus. And as hard as that was, as exhausted as we were... we still felt like we could do something. 

And I know that I can do things. I can donate my talents, treasure and time and I will, but for now.... silence. 

And you know what? That's ok. 

I'm sure many of you feel the same... at a loss. Not sure of what to do right now in this moment. And what we can and need to do right now in this moment... is exactly what we are doing. Living. Praying. Being. Our world must continue to turn so that our friends and victims of Harvey can get their world spinning again.

What I've found is that if I sit in silence long enough, I do begin to hear something. This morning as I prayed for those friends and strangers ... my fellow Texans... the lyrics of this Mercy Me song began to ring in my ears... 

I’m finding myself at a loss for words

And the funny thing is it’s OK

The last thing I need is to be heard

But to hear what You would say

New York Times/ Photograph by David J. Phillip / AP

Oh word of God speak

Would You pour down like rain

Washing my eyes to see Your majesty

To be still and know

That You’re in this place

Please let me stay and rest

In Your holiness

Word of God speak

ABC News/Photograph by David J. Phillip / AP

I’m finding myself in the midst of You

Beyond the music, beyond the noise

All that I need is to be with You

And in the quiet hear You voice

Source

Word of God speak

Would You pour down like rain

Washing my eyes to see Your majesty

To be still and know

That You’re in this place

Please let me stay and rest

In Your holiness

Time

I’m finding myself at a loss for words

And the funny thing is it’s OK

It's okay to sit in the silence of His word. His presence is felt in the volunteers, in the donations, and even in our uncertainty. 

Raising the change...

I try to reserve this space for documenting family memories, major milestones, silly antidotes, celebrations and other happenings for We5Kings.

But that's just the highlight reel... and when my three darling children are reading their chapters of this book and commenting on what an amazing mom I was to go to such lengths as to preserve their childhood (something like, "Y'all... we just hit the jackpot with Mom. We should name all of our children after her. Even the boys.") I want them to get the full version.

And sometimes that includes hard, painful moments.

And sometimes those moments are even more difficult to navigate. To explain. To teach.

This weekend was one of those moments.

I'm not sure what I want to express or how I want to get there. I am sure that I can't be silent. I am sure that being silent in the face of hatred is as hurtful as the hate itself.

So I will not be silent. Because my silence sends a message to three humans that I am responsible for raising into considerate, thoughtful, decent, moral adults. I won't act as if this doesn't affect them... because "this" effects all of us.

Sunday as we were living our best glamorous life folding clothes, Ryan looked up and said, "Did you read more about Virginia?"

Me: Yes
Ryan: Did you see the guy?
Me: Yes
Ryan: Did you see how old he was?
Me: Yes

And then we shared a look of sadness and some thoughts of how do we still live in a place of this much hate?

More importantly, how have I lived so long thinking that we were changed? How did I actually believe that this kind of hatred didn't exist? Is it because I try so dang hard to see the good? Or is it, honestly, because it didn't "really" effect me?

Sadly, that's my privilege shining through.

(Sidenote: If you aren't sure what privilege I'm referring to - read here, here, and here.)

(And yes, I admit that. I can't hide from it. It's not something I can get rid of - it's something I'm born with. BUT I can (and hopefully do) use my privilege to bring positive change.)

As we shared that glance Radley wanted to know what we were talking about. So I told him. All of it... in terms that he and his sister could understand and process. He asked questions, I answered them. He asked more questions. I answered them. Because, we are raising the change.

And we can't be silent.

source

You have a voice.

Use it.

Every day. 

When your friend tells a joke that ridicules a group of people. 

When you see injustice. 

When you pray out loud.

When you don't understand.

When you do understand.

When it is easy

Especially when it is hard. 

And most importantly.

When you speak to your kids because we are raising the change. And, friends, there is lots of change to be had.

To my best-friend, the teacher...

Best-friend -

I love you for lots of reasons.

I love you because you sucked your thumb until 2nd grade.
I love you because all of my best memories include you.
I love you because you love my family.
I love you because you ARE family.
I love you because you brought DP to all the parties in HS while the rest of us were drinking Fuzzy Navels.
I love you because you are kind and generous.
I love you because you giggle at the same dumb things I do.

I could go on and on and on. I could never stop writing all the things that make me so thankful to have you as my best-friend. But today, I want to focus on one thing.

I love you because you are a teacher.

You always have been.

You taught me how to believe in myself when I thought I needed a boy to prove my worth.
You taught me to speak gently when I wanted to scream.
You taught me to clap in church.

And you have taught countless others one million different things.

You've always been a teacher. A gifted, giving, thoughtful, loving, compassionate, teacher.

And I am so grateful for you.

I'll never forget your first classroom. We spent hours brainstorming ideas on how you wanted to set everything up - perfecting every detail as if you were creating a space for your first-born child, when really, you were preparing for 24 "first kids". That reading loft was amazing. The picket fence shelves and rocking chair that I wanted you to have. The rugs and decor - I remember everything so vividly as you prepared for those first kids.

The first kids you taught to read.
The first kids you helped discover science.
The first kids you taught math.

Those stories stuck with me. The sweet kids. The smart kids. The silly kids.

But the hard kids. The hard kids you don't get enough credit for. The kids that weren't fed at home, so they came to school angry. The kids society would tell us to dismiss or give up on because they were hopeless. The kids that had hard beginnings.

The one student with cancer. We cried over that child. That child that you loved and nurtured. The child you held and prayed over. The child that you made sure was as normal as one can be.

You loved those kids. Each and every one of them.

You still do.

I know, because I hear you talk about them to this day. Your first class that has now graduated high school. The pride you reveal in telling their stories.

So, best-friend. Thank you.

Thank you for taking care of our future.
Thank you for being a light.
Thank you for showing other educators the way.
Thank you for every wiped nose and mended knee.
Thank you for caring not just about how well these children do on a test but what kind of people they will be for society.
Thank you for answering my questions as a first-time parent with a first-time school-aged kid.
Thank you for your extended hours.
Thank you for your personal investment (time, talent and treasure).

You are important.
You are building our future.
You are changing lives.
You are building bridges.
You are underpaid and overworked.

Yet you never complain. Because you are committed to your work. You are called to serve. And I am ever-so-grateful for you.

Yours is an uphill battle but you are equipped with weapons beyond compare. The gift of patience. The gift of understanding. The gift of compassion. The gift of love.

My life would not be the same without teachers like you.

Fight the good fight. Your voice will carry far beyond the years you spend in those hallowed halls. Children will become teenagers who become adults who will quote you. They will think of you. They will want to make you proud.

Because you aren't just their teacher for a year.

You are a teacher for life.

Lucky Number...

We are month down in 2017, so I've been thinking about this year. Ryan and I have decided this is our year. As I mentioned in our New Year's recap, 17 is "his" number. Like most high school star athletes, his jersey number became his number. And y'all... it's been with him ever since. 17 has been part of his email addresses, screen names, perhaps a passcode or all of them two. His number.

So, 2017 is our year.

Our year to take risks.
Our year to play it cool.
Our year to think big.
Our year to live small.
Our year to say yes.
Our year to say no.
Our year to play hard.
Our year to work hard.
Our year to travel.
Our year to stay home.

2017 is our year.

The past two years have been hard. He has travelled more than he has been home. Of the past 20 months, I would estimate that 18 have had him sleeping in hotels. The months that he's been home are just the combined weekends that we've been in College Station.

I'm tired.
He's tired.
We are both tired of being tired.
I'm nervous.
He's nervous.
We are both nervous about being nervous.
I want him home.
He wants to be home.
The kids definitely want him home.

So 2017 is our year.

And while we may not be sure what that means, we do know that it is ours for the taking.

Making Eggs...

The kids say all sorts of random things that I don't always understand. Sometimes I dig deeper and sometimes I'm "that mom" that just agrees with whatever random factoid they spout.

Last week, I dug deeper. I was intrigued when Emersyn confidently exclaimed, "Mom - I know how to scramble eggs."

Me: Really? That's awesome - how?
Emmy: Well, you get out the little pan and put stuff in it [butter/spray/whole30 compliant stuff] and then grab two eggs from the refridg-a-tate-or, then crack them and walk away for 3 seconds to turn on the coffee. Then you get a fork and mix them up. Then you walk away and pour cereal. And then you mix them more and sometimes add stuff [sausage/veggies/seasoning] and then you hold the pan and then you put them in a bowl.
Me: Wow. You really do know how to make eggs! That's awesome!

She was so proud y'all. She loves that she can "make eggs" and while I am 100% sure she can do all the things that she said, this, for me, was about so much more than making eggs.

What she was saying to me is that she is watching. Not only is she watching, she is remembering what I do; especially when I repeat what I do over and over again.

Every time I hold open a door for a stranger... she is watching.
Every time I say thank you... she is watching.
Every time I help a friend... she is watching.
Every time I take notes in church... she is watching.
Every time I put on make up... she is watching.
Every time I let the person waiting to pull out on a crowded street into traffic... she is watching.
Every time I compliment Landry or Radley for listening... she is watching.
Every time I thank Ryan for the little things he does... she is watching.

So if she is watching all of that, then surely...

Every time I roll my eyes at my darling husband... she is watching.
Every time I don't make time to read to her... she is watching.
Every time I perhaps say something unkind to another person driving a car... she is watching.
Every time I yell... she is watching.
Every time I make an excuse or quit... she is watching.

She is watching. They are watching. They see us. They hear us. More than that, they learn from us. Not from any one big thing that we do, but from every tiny little insignificant repeated action that we take.

They are watching.

I don't think it's a coincidence that the same song keeps popping up on my drive to work, to pick up kids, or randomly at work on Pandora. The day she told me how to cook eggs, the next song that I heard from "Alexa" was this same song...

The chorus resonates with me.

I'd love like not I'm scared
Give when it's not fair
Live life for another
Take time for a brother
Fight for the weak ones
Speak out for freedom
Find faith in the battle
Stand tall but above it all
Fix my eyes on you

I hope that she watches me do all of those things. That she sees me when I pay for a stranger's coffee. When I do something hard and unfair. When I am a voice for the ones that can't speak. That my faith guides me through the next battle. And I hope she understands that standing tall and above it all includes doing the work that He intends us to do. To love others. To rise above the dark and be the light.

Because we are making so much more than eggs. We are shaping the future of our community, our state, our nation while they are watching. The question, then, is what are we letting them see?

Words from Ruby...

Sometimes I take for granted that my physical working space puts me in contact with amazing human beings. On any given day our campus hosts dignitaries and diplomats, academics and award winners, and a number of humans so smart that my brain can't actually accept what they have accomplished.

Today was no exception. A student committee within our office hosted their annual MLK Breakfast that honors the legacy of a man who fought to show that love is the only power strong enough to drive out hate. The guests for this event have been amazing civil rights activists like Harry Belafonte and Diane Nash and this year they hosted Ruby Bridges.

Don't recognize her name? You may recognize her by this famous Normal Rockwell painting...

Ruby Bridges. A six-year old girl that became the face of the American story of integration. A story about hope. A story about a different future. A story about progression. A story about the America that really is for "WE the people".

I have rarely been so moved to be in the presence of another human. To hear her story and to watch the reaction of 750 others as she told it was a gift. She explains it quite simply - she was six years old and "just going to school." She didn't know why these men had picked her up for her new school but once they rounded the corner and she saw all these people "acting crazy and waving their hands" it hit her... she was in a Mardi Gras parade because being from New Orleans it was a reasonable explanation to all the ruckus around her.

As she filled us in on that lonely year of school - a classroom of just her and her teacher - a school where she could hear children but didn't really see them - a school where she had to eat in her class instead of in the cafeteria with others - I just kept wondering how she did it. How did she, at 6, carry on?

Faith. Her answer was faith. Faith in him. Faith in humanity. Faith in the good of others. Her message was to keep moving forward. To love more than hate,  even when it's hard. Even when it's unfair. Even when you don't want to do it - love. Each and every day. Spread the message that only light can drive out the dark.

She also made sure to talk about her parents' decision to allow her to be part of this movement. They wanted better for her - and I couldn't help but cry because I paused and had to really think about it. Would I...no, COULD I.... send my child past a mob of angry, hate-filled people to make a difference for others? Could I do that?

She spoke of her teacher, Mrs. Henry, and the profound impact she had on her life even though she taught her for only one year. She travelled from Boston just to teach her because no one at the school would agree to the task. They are still in contact today.

So many pieces of that puzzle came together to form her story.

As the literally dawning of a new day in American history approaches I really had to pause and give thanks for her message. Her presence on this campus was not a coincidence...no...that was a divine plan. Those people in that room needed to hear her words. I needed to hear them. I needed to be challenged to understand that one person does not get to write our story. We are all responsible to move forward. We are all responsible to love.

As parents - we teach our kids to face that hard knowing they have a soft place to land in our arms.
As educators - we support our students and meet them where they are. We listen and guide and advocate for them.
As children - we love.

To love is our duty.  Each of us. Whether you are 6, 16, 60 .... whether you agree or not. Not just when it's easy but especially when it's hard. Not because it's the only thing to do simply because it's the right thing to do. Not because you want a better life for yourself but to demand a better life for others.

President Obama wrote us all a letter today. In it he says...

I've seen you, the American people, in all your decency, determination, good humor, and kindness. And in your daily acts of citizenship, I've seen our future unfolding. 

All of us, regardless of party, should throw ourselves into that work - the joyous work of citizenship. Not just when there's an election, not just when our own narrow interest is at stake, but over the full span of a lifetime. 

...

America is not the project of any one person. The single most powerful word in our democracy is the word 'We.' 'We the people.' 'We shall overcome.'

We.

We the people. You and me. Our children. The people that don't look like us. Or think like us. Our friends and neighbors. And people we've never met.

We shall love.

I'm ready. Are you?

You can't win them all...

Life is full of lessons. Some big, some small...and whether we like it or not... they never stop. I am astonished at how little I actually "know". (And y'all... I know a lot of things.) (Just ask my husband.)

Radley has been practicing for weeks for the annual UIL competition. He decided to try "music memory" this year which requires the participants to memorize clips of famous music, title and composer by sound. He worked so hard and even got Landry involved. He took practice tests, he kept getting better and better and finally the day before the competition he made a perfect score. 

He.was.PUMPED!

His coach was pumped!

We were all so excited and proud of him.

The day of the competition came and I could tell he was nervous. He wasn't hungry and he was very quiet - clearly something was wrong. I gave him my best, "we are proud of you no matter what" speech. I told him the only thing we wanted him to do was try his best and be proud of himself because that's the truth. 

And so he did. 

His goal was to be in the top six so he could get a prized ribbon. He felt really good about how he performed. So we made our way up to the awards ceremony that night with our biggest fans who were also competitors (but in different events). 

His event was called to the stage. And he waited. 

And waited.

And waited for his name to be called. 

And it wasn't. So he clapped and cheered for the others. 

He put a smile on his face and came back to his seat where I hugged him close and much to his dismay, his sisters layered him with kisses. He was disappointed and that was the lesson.

Disappointment. We all know the feeling. We all have been the receiver and sometimes the giver of that emptiness that fills the pit of your stomach. I know this was a 3rd grade UIL competition that amounts to about as much as the pile of nail polish I scraped off my fingers this morning, but for this moment, that ribbon was everything. Accomplishment. Worthiness. Achievement. All of those are very real things and he wanted to feel them. Instead, he felt disappointment and there wasn't anything I could do for him. My lesson. 

Let them feel. Let them hurt. Let them be what they need to be. Let them learn it now because later when it does matter, they will be prepared. Because as sad as I am for him, and as much as I wanted to fix "it"... I couldn't. I shouldn't. I won't. 

These lessons on those not-so-big stages are gifts. They shape our kids. (And they continue to shape us.) They are the beginning of what comes next. They help them become who they are meant to be. From disappointment comes perseverance and tenacity. Within one minute of him sitting down and soaking in that defeat, he turned to me and said, "You know what, Mom? I bet I can place in number sense next year."

I bet you can, too, kid. I'll bet on you every single time in 100 different ways. Your spirit and determination. Your giving heart. Your kindness and generosity. I will bet on you. 

And we'll all be right here next to you - every single one of you. Placing our bets and cheering you on. Because if life has taught me one thing - it is to know your people and love them well. 

And you'll never be disappointed by that. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident...

Today is a big day y'all.

Today will be hard.

And scary.

And frustrating as hell.

We all feel passionate. Or angry. Or confused. Or perhaps, as if we want to EAT ALL THE NACHOS. 

At the end of the day (or sometime in the next two weeks) we will have a new President of the United States of America.

Some will celebrate.
Some will not.
Some will laugh.

There will be tears of joy and pain.

At the end of the day, there will be a story that we will tell our children; and they their children after that. At the end of this day America will be forever changed. We will have a new future no matter the outcome.

I hope that our future is one direction....

You may choose another...

The point is...

No one is forcing us.
We get a voice.
An opinion.
A vote.

But you know what else we get to choose?

(And this is important...)




Ready?




We get to choose...

Our attitude.
Our joy.
Our capacity to love.

Yep.

We can be both things.

We can be ANGRY but we can also be respectful.
We can be DEVASTATED but we can also be ready to work.
We can be SHOCKED but we can also be supportive.
We can be CONFUSED but we can also be eager to learn.
We can DISAGREE but we can also extend a hand.

So, that's what I am committed to doing today.

Because I know these truths to be self-evident...

All men (and women) are created EQUAL.
We are ALL endowed by our creator with certain unalienable RIGHTS that include...

LIFE.
LIBERTY.
And the pursuit of HAPPINESS.


Remember that today. Remember that tomorrow. Remember that always.

Little girl, BIG first...

This larger-than-life little first grader had a big first last week. She finally lost her first tooth... but don't think it was easy, no, this took some time and effort on everyone's part. 

Her tooth had been loose for weeks... she wiggled it back and forth and back and forth... much like when we are preparing ourself to try something new...we have to work our way up to do it. 

Sometimes it hurts, or it's just plain scary and it takes being brave, showing courage, and putting trust into the person that is helping us along the way. 

And, sometimes, even when you think you are TOTALLY READY... 

something tells you to stop. And you do. 

I love watching my kids be brave - I love seeing them try something new. I love the purpose that their reminders serve in my life. And while you may be sitting there thinking, "Katy, it's just a tooth..." to them it is so much more. It's conquering the unknown, it's putting up with a bit of pain, it's trusting others... Their bravery lets me know that I can be brave, too. I can conquer the unknown, I can put up with a bit of pain (physical/emotional/mental) and I can and should trust others  ... in this case Him. When I was looking back at these pics I snapped, the message of faith was just screaming at me. 

He shows up in the oddest places, because, well, He shows up in all the places. If we let him. And when we do trust Him, then that bravery is fueled by a much stronger force than our own. 

And so we try again. 

We go to that place of fear and anxiety thats also filled with thrill and excitement.

And we put up with a little pain. 

We may, at one point, hear the naysayers and decide that we can't do it... 

but we try again. 

And then we do. (And sometimes, the memory is blurry... or the photographer is crappy at taking pictures). 

And what we find, is that what comes after is stronger, more capable and longer lasting than the fear of losing what we had to begin with. 

Yes, He shows up in the oddest places. 

I started by writing a memory of Emersyn losing her first tooth, but He wanted me to tell a different story today... so I did. What are you doing today to be brave? How are you letting Him help you?