5,000 Feet Above Dallas

Ever heard of Prescott, Arizona?

Yea, me neither.

It sits two hours outside of Phoenix, nestled in the mountains, 5,000 feet above Dallas.

And from what I can tell, I'm sorry Chicago, but it is the windy city. I've never seen wind so fierce or birds so brave. Every time one takes off, the mother in me hurts for the poor stupid bird. They don't make it very long, but they sure do try. I guess even animals have to test their boundaries.

Back to Prescott... it is beautiful here and the people are particularly kind and hard working. The rugged west is growing on me.

Last weekend at the SeaWorld San Antonio show I met a group of guys (and one gal) who just finished basic training at Lackland Air Force Base. They stood up front through the whole show and made me nervous. Are they here because they like the music? Or will they, at any minute, die laughing? Nine years in and I still battle the voices of insecurity. But they just looked so stinkin' intimidating with their crew cuts and reserved, respectful mannerisms that I wasn't sure what to make of them. They stayed for the entire show. And when we ended with the song Hope Now, they linked arms and sang it together. One guy had tears running down his face.

They waited in line forever, and of course I have a special love for military people, so I gave them as many hugs as I could :)

As I started talking to some of them they told me about boot camp and how they'd go back to their barracks each night and listen to Hope Now. They told me about their families and where they were going to be stationed. And as they started to walk off the last guy came up and asked if I would sign his program for his mom. He had been waiting patiently, quietly, for everyone else to go. He told me his mom was a huge fan of our music and had always wanted to see us in concert. I asked if she was at the show and he told me she didn't live around here, but that this would make her day. He said he hoped one day she'd be able to see a concert because it would mean a lot to her.

"Where does she live?" I asked him.

"Arizona."

"We just played a show there last weekend outside of Phoenix! Bummer. I think we are playing there again soon, but I'm not sure where."

"Well most shows are in Phoenix, but she lives in Prescott."

Prescott. I've seen that name. I know I have.

"Hold on."

I went and found Richard (our new drummer) at the merchandise table and he looked up the show for the coming weekend.

Prescott, Arizona. Sold out.

I was so excited I almost fell over. My little heart was overflowing for happiness. Not because I was sooo happy that this person would get to come and see us in concert, as if I were blessing her with the gift of seeing Bono or The Beatles, but I was so happy that I could give Jeff something to give his mom. Because any guy who waits around for an hour to have you sign a CD for his mom living thousands of miles away, means he really loves his mom and longs to do something special for her.

I ran back to the table and told him. "You're not going to believe this. Of all the places in the world we could be playing next weekend, we are playing in Prescott, Arizona. And your mom will be on my private guest list."

Two hours outside of Phoenix, nestled in the mountains, 5,000 feet above Dallas and San Antonio.

His mom wrote me that evening. I've highlighted the parts that made my heart soar:

"Hi, I am Myra H., mother to a very excited Airman Jeff H., stationed at Lackland AFB in San Antonio. He told us you were in concert at Sea World San Antonio today and that something very special happened when he talked to you. What a huge blessing and answer to my prayers of the last few days. Jeff did not know of my prayers to be able to go see your concert at the Heights Church in Prescott .

To tell you the truth, I was planning to bug the snot out of KGCB’s morning crew Steve and Dave when they have the contest starting Monday morning for the tickets to the concert. I am on leave of absence from work due to a recent surgery, so money is a bit tight right now. I have been praying, asking PAPA GOD if the contest was the way for my husband and myself to go to the concert that He would make a way. And then we get the call from Jeff this afternoon. WOW is all I can say."

This story reminds me that the Holy Spirit is real.

To me, that was not just a lucky, random conversation. I was tired. It had been a long day. The military guys were at the end of the line... the line that I assumed had been cut off already. I was slightly annoyed that there were still more people... I was so tired. I was ready to go and take care of Annie. But something moved inside of me and I felt such love for this group of guys who had been singing their hearts out. And something about this one guy pulled me in. I felt the urge to talk to him.

That urge, I believe, is what the Christian church calls the Holy Spirit. The part of God that is alive and active and moving inside of our hearts and our lives. Calling out to us in that still small whisper. Speaking to us. Moving us. Prodding us. Convicting us. And moving our spirits to take care of and love those around us.

Looking back, I didn't know it was God. I just felt the desire to talk to this guy. If it were me, I would've gone backstage. But in that moment, it wasn't me. It was God putting a different thought into my heart.

I truly believe the Holy Spirit put this desire in my heart to have a conversation with Jeff. I believe it with everything inside of me. Not fate. Not chance. Not a random coincidence. But God himself who loves his children and longs to give us the desires of our hearts. There was a reason.

And that reason was to answer the prayers of Myra; a mom recovering from surgery, tight on money, touched by our music, and praying quietly to her God that he would help her win a contest so she could spend a night listening to music that uplifts her soul.

And God answered.

Myra and David will be our special guests tonight at the Tenth Ave. North, Addison Road concert. We bought her flowers. :)

Happy Third Mother's Day

To all my mom friends reading: I hope you had a wonderful Mother's Day. I am proud to report that Annie did not bite all day long; making any day even that more special around this joint. If you have a minute, check out my recent article in our church's monthly magazine, Chatter. It's my current take on motherhood. And while you're there... go exploring! The editorial is especially funny, brilliant, and convicting this month and the other stories shared will bring you joy, I promise. No really, I promise, stop working and surf around for a bit!

As with all holidays ladies, remember, it begins at least one full day before and lasts one full day after the ACTUAL day. So don't sell yourself short, Happy Third Mother's Day!

Don't Be Deceived...

She bites.

I wake up at 6:30 a.m. so I can go work out before the little bundle of joy wakes up and consumes my day with her eating and pooping and playing and singing and I wake up because I am trying to burn the fat that this eating, pooping, and playing little creature caused to come upon my body a year ago (Was that really a year ago? Can my excuse at the gym still be that I just had a baby?) and how does she repay me for my many sacrifices?

The freakin' critter bit me today.

I'm not even kidding.

Here's the deal. I need help. Calling all moms, dads, grandparents, or child therapists:

Why has my otherwise perfectly sweet baby girl decided to turn into a demon and bite me?

It started about a week ago. She started throwing temper tantrums. Anytime she didn't get what she wanted she threw her head back, locked her legs out, and screamed like she had her fingers slammed shut in a door. It sounded painful. Truly. So I began trying to figure out what was wrong. When you are a mom, you become good at everything by default. One of your first new skills is that you become a detective. You look at poop and rashes and try to find a common connection. You analyze diets and dairy for clues. You massage gums and baby booties and wonder if perhaps you have relieved some grievous pain. You take temperature readings in the armpit and on the forehead and perhaps then in the ear and you come up with a consensus. You diagnose.

And you decide at the end of all that, that your critter needs a cold towel.

Because, as my mom would tell me when I was doubled over with the pain of oncoming flu or Strep or near death, "put a cold towel on it and go lay down."

That woman was brilliant. I really believed that a cold towel and a nap cured everything. I had no idea she was buying more free time for herself!

So last week I became a detective, only problem is, I found no culprit and the cold towel didn't work. She was clean. Fed. Well loved. Fever-free and over the peak of teething. Still, she was acting like I threw her out of the car window. Crying. Screaming. Flailing. Anytime I told her no or took a break from walking her around the house (her most favoritist thing to do) ... meltdown.

Maybe that is normal, but this week I noticed the meltdown was accompanied by anger, and that worries me. Real live anger. I have no idea where it has come from. She has begun throwing things when she is frustrated or not placated. She seems overwhelmed by her emotions and truly angry. And this all culminated in me, the woman who birthed this small child into the world, being bit by her.

I knew it would happen- I was just thinking it would be a bit closer to 12 years old. Maybe 16. And probably just a blow to the heart... not real blood drawn to the surface of my skin!

Annie was trying to pull up on the dishwasher door while I unloaded the dishes (this was after several failed attempts to get her to play with her toys in the next room). I told her no. To which she now responds by wagging one finger in front of her and with a very serious face saying,"No, no, no, no, nooooo." It's pretty cute.

We did this several times as she continued to pull up on the dishwasher. So I got on her eye level and said quite sternly, "Annie, NO. You will hurt yourself."

Still, she insisted.

So I picked her up and sat her on the counter. I held her hands in front of her and said, "Look at me baby, when I say no, that means no. You can play with your toys or you can sit and watch Mom, but you cannot pull up on the dishwasher. Do you understand?"

Well, this is when she started screaming and throwing her head back and kicking and generally acting like her whole body had been slammed in a door. I tried to calm her down and keep her from bonking her head.... and that's when she leaned over, growled, and bit a chunk out of my arm. I immediately removed my arm, and with the same intensity, no more, no less said, "absolutely not."

Still screaming, she began to bite her own arm.

Her OWN arm.

OH MY GOSH???

Where did my sweet little baby girl that says "Hi" to every single person and snuggles and loves other children go? And more importantly, what did I do wrong?

I called Ryan in for back up and left the room in tears. How could I have screwed up my child already? What is wrong with her? Why, out of nowhere, has she become aggressive and angry? Throwing her body and her things across the room when she does not get her way? And biting? Really? She bit me!

She bit herself.

She needs therapy.

I am convinced something has gone terribly wrong. Help!