Soccer, Tears and Wedding Bells

It has been years since I’ve written a blog post. It’s a blessing to be able to make money doing something you enjoy, but when the joy disappears, it’s time to take a break. I’ve done that and now it’s time to start again.

As you can imagine, much has happened since my last post. My son started playing soccer and then stopped playing soccer when he broke the longest and strongest bone in his body…his femur! That happened in January and we still have doctor’s appointments and X-rays. God was good and my son is fine. He isn’t cleared to play sports yet and for now that’s fine with me.

My daughter got married in February of this year, about a month after my son’s injury. He still took part in the wedding, walking down the aisle with swag and a pair of crutches.

With so much going on, my husband and I found ourselves emotionally drained. We were not expecting the effect these two events would have on us. My husband would catch me crying in one room and a few minutes later I’d catch him crying in another. We have talked to close friends about this and it seems to be the norm when the fledglings leave the nest. Transition isn’t an easy thing. Thank God for God.

I guess I have a lot more to say than I thought I would in this post. Honestly, I planned on writing about something else entirely; but that’s okay. If you are going through an emotional time right now, whether it be an injured child, an empty nest or something else, God is there to help.

I had a crazy dream last night. I am getting older and many women say menopause causes your dreams to be more bizarre and vivid. I have to say, I agree with them. Last night I dreamed I was driving my friends’ truck with a Winnebago attached to it. I backed up the truck and Winneabego, (which I would NEVER do in reality) and lost control of the vehicle which resulted in the destruction of everything behind me and around me. When the vehicle finally came to a stop, I just sat there stunned. I was not looking forward to explaining what happened to my friends. When I woke up, I was beyond relieved! Then I had this thought, “How can you help someone when their devastation is REAL? When you can’t do anything to make it go away?” Then I heard that still small voice… “Give them hope that is eternal and be there when they need you.”

You see, we can’t always change the circumstances, whether it be our own or of the ones we love. We CAN, however encourage ourselves and others with the eternal hope that God’s Word speaks of- Jesus. We CAN lend a hand or give a hug. We CAN listen. We CAN wipe a tear, or send a card. Life can be so daily sometimes. Then other times it’s unpredictable, hard and sad; but with God’s help and with each other we can make it.

1Peter 1:1-25


Awkward Family Photos

Tonight I decided to look at family photos with my kids. I asked them if they were interested and they seemed to be into it. So, I got out the “picture books” and  sat down in the middle of the couch, with room for one kid on each side of me.

I have to say, I have forgotten many things from my childhood; and the childhood memories I do have, have a corresponding picture. The pictures reinforce the memories. This is one of the reasons I think pictures are so important, and one of the reasons why I take so many pictures.

It has, unfortunately, been years since we have taken the time to look at old pictures together. Most of our pictures are digital these days and even though I have a digital frame, it’s just not the same.

I have been thinking about this activity for days and really thought it would be a good way to reconnect with the kids. I am so thankful that God gave me a sense of humor. If He didn’t, my spirit would have been crushed tonight.

The first problem with my “picturesque” activity was that there were too many pictures of my daughter and not enough of my son. The fact that she was alive for six years before he was born was irrelevant to him. It was obvious that I like her better and therefore have more pictures of her.

I also found out that I really hurt my daughter because I didn’t let her carry my son around when he was a newborn. She was only six, but that was beside the point. It took her a long time to like babies because of my heartless ways. I tried to explain that she was my first six-year-old and I had no idea how capable six-year-olds are; If I had, I most certainly would have let her carry him around. But alas, the damage has been done.

Earlier in the evening my son told me how cruel I was to make him eat lettuce when he was little. He even performed a reenactment. My daughter sat on a stool and played the part of my son. My son played me and held a white plate in his hand that represented the lettuce plate. I made him try lettuce with ranch, lettuce with italian, lettuce with honey mustard and plain lettuce. Apparently, he would be an avid lettuce consumer, but because of me, he doesn’t eat lettuce to this day! What child can stand in the wake of my recklessness?! I ask you?

During our pictorial travels, we came across a picture of a little black shitzu that we kept for a weekend when the kids were little. It was then I learned that I have ruined the kids lives because I didn’t keep that little dog. My daughter was eight at the time and my son was two. The little dog was sweet, but I am not an animal person. The dog pooped in the house and then my son picked it up! That was it for me! He had to go! (The dog, not my son.) The next picture was of our trip to the pet store to buy our first pet…clown fish. “See, kids! We bought you pets! Clown fish!” “They are dead,” said my daughter.

And as if their lives were not tragic enough, somehow, the topic of breast-feeding came up. My daughter has admissible proof that she is NOT the favorite. Why? Because my son was breast-fed and she was not! Because of this, she did not get the nutrients that she needed as an infant! This, my son pointed out, is the reason he is smarter than her!

This love fest made me declare that I am obviously a horrible mother and if it wasn’t for the fact that I cook and clean, I would have to go! My son was quite perplexed and asked me where I would go. I assured him that there were plenty of people who would take me in. Then he said, “Yeah. But who would drive you there?”

A few shoulder punches were thrown and we laughed so hard we cried.

Foster Awkward Family Photo

2000- Our family before our son was born. This proves nothing.






My mother and me. 1972

Mothers will always be mothers.
Remembering how proud they were when you learned to crawl.
Surprised to see you running.

Always looking at you like you were still a fresh infant.
Head tilted, half-smiling, eyes full of almost-tears. Calling you “Baby” and “Sugar” in front of people… you know… and don’t know.

Mothers will always be mothers they will.
And they will sacrifice so much.
But you will never know it, if they are the good kind.
And you will never understand it until you become one.

Mechelle Ritchie Foster

Dedicated to my mother. She raised two girls on her own, always putting us first.

She is the good kind.

I Still Do

Mr. & Mrs. Grant Foster 7-27-1991

Mr. & Mrs. Grant Foster

Twenty two years ago I changed my name, my address and my life. I married a man that I admired and loved as much as my limited experience would allow me to. At the time I thought love was just a euphoric emotion. I had no idea how much sacrifice would be involved in maintaining the relationship that began with a kiss and a prayer. I had no idea how young 19 was.

My husband and I have been through a lot together over the past 22 years… job changes, address changes, sickness, the death of loved ones, the births of our two children and the list goes on. My husband sacrifices everything for our family. All the money he makes is invested in our lives. He takes complete responsibility for feeding, clothing and providing a home for our family. I am so thankful for him and so proud of him.

It seems to me that marriage is just not a priority for young people today. It seems that fewer young men are willing to make the sacrifices that my husband makes. In the 50’s, marriage was perhaps the most important thing to a young person. Here we are 60+ years later and marriage is irrelevant to many and redefined by others.

I’m not a salesman…salesperson. I will only recommend something that I have tried and proven to be good. Marriage is one of those things. I want my single friends to find their soul mate because my life is infinitely better now that I have found mine.

I know firsthand that there are people who are in bad marriages. I don’t believe anyone should stay in an abusive situation. I do believe that marriage takes three: a husband, a wife and God. God came up with the idea of marriage. He knows how His design works. He is there to provide technical support. If you’re not married yet, let God guide you in choosing a spouse and keep Him at the center of your union. If you are married and never included God in your relationship, it’s not too late.

I still believe in marriage and that ring on my husband’s finger is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a symbol of our young love that ventured beyond the security of our parents’ homes. It’s a symbol of our maturing love that learned how to communicate the words that are the hardest to say like, “I’m sorry.” and “I was wrong.” It’s a symbol of our intimate, trusting love that doesn’t need words, and a symbol of our committed love that is not debatable, not based on emotions and has no loopholes. It means, I am his and he is mine. If you’re reading this, Sweetheart, I love you! Happy anniversary!

Frosting The Stone

large_901849I’ll get right to the point. I am much too likely to avoid conflict and just “frost”
things over.

Do you like cake? Cake is my favorite food and I have certainly eaten my fill of it. I have feasted on cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Cake tastes and smells sweet and the frosting makes it beautiful to look at. Who can resist this soft, fluffy yumminess?
Not me!

But… Have you ever frosted a stone? Here’s how:

Step 1-Find a smooth, flat stone.

Step 2- Take your stone and place it on your best serving platter, the kind you keep in the highest cabinet in your kitchen, reserved for special occasions like birthdays and Christmas. Maybe it’s china. Maybe it’s crystal.

Step 3- Using a knife or spatula, cover the stone with your favorite frosting… chocolate, coconut cream, cream cheese, buttercream… The possibilities are endless.

Even when placed on your most precious family heirloom and covered with your favorite frosting, the stone is still a stone… a rock. It’s hard and heavy, not fertile or pliable like soil and certainly not fluffy or sweet like cake.

There is a situation in my life right now that I need to deal with… a stone, if you will. My calves are tired from tiptoeing around it for so long. I got honest with myself and with God earlier this week. It’s not my concern for my adversary’s feelings that keeps me from confrontation; it is my concern for my own feelings. I’ve been honest with this person about our relational issues before; and the pattern of this feline is to present her claws, arch her back and then run away hissing. I’m worn out physically and emotionally and am in no way up to another cat fight. So I smile and keep frosting the stone.

The Bible tells me this about my current plight, “Don’t sin by letting anger control you. Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry.” Ephesians 4:26

I am praying for the boldness to once again be honest with this person. I am praying for just the right words to say so I may present the truth wrapped in love. I am praying for God to help me to be able to see past their knee-jerk reactions, to hear more than just their venomous words. I am trusting God that one day soon, we will be able to sit at a table together and order one dessert… with two forks.

How Do You Approach Discontentment?

strawberry shortcake5How do I approach discontentment? Often with a piece of cake. You laugh, but it’s true; and I’m not the only one, just ask Jenny Craig. Some people approach discontentment with alcohol or drugs. Some people take a nap and hope it will be gone when they wake up. Some people shop. Some people run from place to place and person to person, filling up every minute, ignoring their discontentment or even denying its existence.

I’ll let you in on a little secret…none of these things work. In fact, each of these approaches make matters worse; they add to our waistline, our bad habits, our debt, our exhaustion and, in turn, our discontentment.

The apostle Paul, one of the authors of the Bible, had something to say about discontentment: “For I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.” Philippians 4:11, 12

He learned to be content. That means he had experience with discontentment. There was a time he had everything most people want: money, position, power, popular friends… He went by the name of Saul at that time. Then something unexpected happened… He had an encounter with God. This was a real shocker to Paul since he thought he had the corner market on God and God’s will. (You can read more about the details of his encounter in The Bible– book of Acts chapters 8 and 9.)

The point is, his priorities changed in the light of The Truth. He traded in his money, his position, his power and his circle of friends to pursue a completely different life. Was it easy? No way. If you’re a believer, I’m sure you’ve quoted this verse, “For I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength.” If you’re not a believer, but have been around one, you’ve probably heard this verse. I’ve encouraged myself with these words many times, especially when I’m exercising. (Can I get a witness?)

I believe this verse can be used in many different situations, but I was surprised to find that Paul first said these words when referring to discontentment. (Philippians 4:13) Paul needed Christ to give him the strength to deal with discontentment. Paul approached discontentment, hand-in-hand with Jesus. Why would I choose to do anything less? Why would you?

Invite Someone To Their Own Memorial

I recently attended a memorial service for a friend of mine, an acquaintance really. I sat on the front row as most pastors’ wives do. (I call it, “the cheering section.”) The pastor, my husband, looked so handsome in his gray suit and black, polka-dotted tie. (Watch out, Justin Timberlake!) He did a great job navigating the mourners through a sea of solemn songs, funeral scriptures, encouraging words and memories. When the service was finished he invited everyone to join the family for potluck. Then it was over; we had paid our “final respects” to this dear man.

On the way home, I couldn’t help but think about what my memorial would be like. (The subtitle for this blog is, My Random Thoughts; you were warned.) I also thought, as I often do after memorials, that it is such a shame that we all get together to honor someone after their gone instead of when they’re here to be encouraged by our kind words.

So here you have it- your mission, should you choose to accept it:
Pick someone you know. Invite them to out to eat. (There’s always food at a memorial.) While you are enjoying your meal together, say to them all the things you would say if you were standing behind the mic at their funeral. Then, find out more about them- the amplified version of the facts and events that would be summarized in their obituary- life’s closing paragraph.
Do they have pictures on their iPhone? Ask them to share them with you. I have books and books of pictures at home, but I keep a picture of the people that are most important to me on my iPhone. I’d be happy to show them to you; and yes, there is a story behind each photo. (Get the picture? No pun intended.)

So we have: food, kind words, personal information and pictures. There will most likely be flowers and music playing at the restaurant… hopefully smooth jazz. The only things missing from this kind of memorial are the tears, and they’re highly overrated anyway.

Rich Enough To Buy Back Your Past

I watched a movie this week called, An Ideal Husband. It was a film set in the 1800’s with a charming, English setting, beautiful costumes and rich language. The story had an intriguing plot filled with suspense, wit, and of course, love.
Although there was much to hold my attention, one line of dialogue stood out among the rest. The interaction took place between Sir Robert and Mrs. Cheveley; he was a man of ideals and she was a woman with impure motives. I don’t want to spoil the movie for you so I will get to the point “straight away”… the quote. “Even you are not rich enough to buy back your past, Sir Robert. No man is.”
Well, there is one manAlthough, He has no need to buy back his own past. He did buy back mine and He offers to buy back yours. His name is Jesus and He gave His life as a payment for our past…our sin. You’ve probably heard, “Let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone.” (John 8:7) That’s His quote. He said it a long time ago when some holier than thou, religious people were getting ready to kill someone because of their past. He spoke up for this woman and caused the crowd to take a look at their own sin. “Do not judge others and you will not be judged.” (Matthew 7:7) Another one of His. The bottom line is, we all have a past and, most likely there are people who know about it and like to remind us of it. You might even remind yourself.. pull out your list of mistakes from time to time.
The good news is, there’s only one person who has the right to bring up your past and to judge you for it. That person, Jesus already paid for a fresh start for you and me. He not only wants to forgive out past but once we accept that forgiveness, He forgets our past. He wants your list. He wants to wad it up and throw it as far as the east is from the west.

“Luke, I am your father.” Darth Vader

1-darth-vadar-skullWhen I think about the word father, the first thing that comes to my mind is this quote, “Luke, I am your father.” I know. Weird, huh? You say, “father” and I think of Darth Vader. You may think about the day your dad taught you to ride a bike or the time he took you camping. You may remember fishing with your dad or the gaudy tie you gave him for Father’s Day that he wore proudly because it was from you, his child. I’ve never met my dad, so I don’t have any warm, fuzzy feelings about him or memories to draw upon while writing this entry.

I can, however, write about my father, God. I recognized Him as my father when I was 11 years old. From that point on, He put men in my life who would step up and be the paternal example that I was missing; Godly men who mirrored His love for me and the kind of father He is.

The first man who made a difference in my life was Bill Combs. He was my pastor when I was 11 and he introduced me to my Heavenly Father. Bill loved his kids and I could see that. He loved me too and included me as part of his family. He took me to the zoo for the first time and in the winter, we slid down snow covered mountains together on shiny, black garbage bags. During the time Bill was part of my life, I learned that a father is fun.

When I was 13, we moved from Kentucky to Florida and I became a part of another pastor’s family. Mark McGuire was solemn, but kind. His daughter and I became fast friends and we had many sleepovers at their house. I got to know this family pretty well. They had a busy schedule, as pastoral families do, but I watched Mark make time for his wife. They had this tradition… When the kids went to bed, and I was often the fourth child, they would pop popcorn and watch a movie together. We kids were not allowed to get up and be part of this because it was their special time together. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now that I am married and have two kids, I can appreciate their simple, romantic gesture. Mark showed me that a father doesn’t only love his children, but also, that a father loves his wife. I came from an abusive family background and believe me, this was a new concept for me.

Several years later, God blessed me beyond anything I could ask or think when I married my sweetheart, Grant. His father, Rick Foster, became my father. That’s right, my father, not my father-in-law. From the moment I joined the family, he referred to me as a daughter and treated me as a daughter. He was not a touchy, feely kind of guy. He didn’t show me gobs of affection, but he was a hard-working man. He showed me that a father is a provider. He also loved blessing us. If we had a financial need and he knew about it, he met that need. If he received a bonus at work, he shared his blessing with the entire family. He also gave to his church and to ministries he believed in. He once came home from work without shoes because he met a man who didn’t have any. Rick showed me that a father gives sacrificially, and without strings attached.

The last man I want to mention today is my uncle, Wayne Ritchie. It is honestly a miracle that I even know him. He is my dad’s brother. Last year I had a strong desire to try and find out where my dad was and if he was still alive. I don’t have the time or energy today to tell you all the things God has done and is doing concerning this, or how he is restoring my family to me. But I will tell you someday soon. For today, I just want to thank Uncle Wayne and his family for accepting me immediately. They have been a great encouragement to me, kept in touch with me and checked on me. He has shown me that a father loves unconditionally.

I really don’t know how I feel about my dad. I don’t hate him by any means. I care about him and his eternity. But I don’t recognize the feelings I have for him as love. I’ve only talked to him briefly, and during that time he made it clear that he does not accept me as his daughter. This wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for and it caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting the raw emotion that burst into the room the moment I hung up the phone. So you see, my dad has never been part of my life and he has never given me the impression that he plans to be. You don’t save a seat for someone unless they tell you they’re coming. It’s no wonder that I can’t define my feelings for him. It’s not as if I’ve saved a seat for him in my life; especially one right next to me. But if he decided to come, I’d make room.

Maybe you’re like me and you’ve never met your earthly father. What I’m hoping is, that also like me, you have been privileged to have spiritual fathers in your life; men of God who have shown you the love of God. If not, I pray that God would send a spiritual father to you soon. But remember, God didn’t send those men into my life until I recognized who my true father was- my father, God. So if you haven’t recognized God as your father yet, I pray that today is the day you do. He will fill that black hole in your life. Whether it be a father you are missing or anyone or anything else, trust me, God is all you need.

Am I A Dreamer?

Today’s sermon was about dreaming; the kind you do when you’re awake. I’ve been thinking off and on this year about that subject. Am I a dreamer?

Growing up I was a bit of a dreamer. I remember when I was in elementary school, I had a late-night discussion with my cousin about our dreams. I told her that when I grew up I wanted sliding glass doors, a boyfriend and a dog. Two out of three ain’t bad. I have sliding glass doors and a boyfriend that I married. Please don’t tell my kids that I once dreamed of having a dog, that fact could come back to bite me…literally.

I also dreamed, as a kid, of becoming a nun. I was a Baptist so there wasn’t much hope for that one. As I got older, I dreamed of getting married and then having babies. Check and check. I think that’s when I stopped dreaming…for me anyway. That’s when I started dreaming for my kids.

I have so many dreams for them. I asked my almost 18 year old daughter if she knew what my dreams for her were. She said, a bit smugly, “To be happily married and to live in eternal Christiandom.” She’s right. The two most important decisions we can make are: whom to give our soul to and whom to give our heart to. Making the wrong decision about either one of these can affect the outcome of our entire life. That statement may sound a bit dramatic, but I’ve seen it happen firsthand, again and again.

I just want to encourage you to consider the importance of those two decisions I mentioned; and to put your dreams in God’s hands. He is a loving father and a dream molder, not a dream crusher. I’ve seen that firsthand too.