It Makes a Mama Proud

Probably by now you've all seen the video I posted with my youngest son, Zack, jammin' on the drums in "Sing, Sing, Sing." If you didn't, here's a link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUgeKRSne7w&feature=youtu.be

I smile every time I watch it.

Since I am an equal-opportunity mom, here's a video of my youngest daughter, Danica, who is now a college Freshman...soon to be Sophomore, singing "Tell My Ma." She is the one in the upper left-hand corner.





Last Sunday was Mother's Day.

My husband has been known to say on special days like these, "Every day is Mother's Day at our house."

This year, I think I'd have to agree with him. When I look at how great ALL of my kids have turned out I just have to say a prayer of thanks. These are 4 amazing people.

My oldest daughter, Mandie (or Amanda as she's known professionally) is one of the most successful 24-year-olds you'll ever meet. And soon, she and her equally amazing husband, will be buying their first home.

JJ, my oldest son, has faced all sorts of challenges this year, but honestly, I've never been more proud of him. He's one of the coolest, nicest, smartest people I know. I'm so happy to be his mom.

Danica, seen in the above video acting like a ditsy girl, is quite the opposite. She's clear-headed, down to earth, fearless, and faithful in all she does. I couldn't even begin to list all of her interests and accomplishments. But believe me, they are many.

Zack, my baby, isn't a baby any more. He's matured this year in every way possible. Everyday I see new ways in which he displays his growing dedication, intelligence and kindness. He really makes a mama proud.

They all do.

And ironically, it also makes a mama humble.

When I think about all the years I've been a mom I realize, I've made a lot of mistakes. More mistakes than I care to admit! But God is merciful. He's been there for my kids when I was clueless, and pulled them through more scrapes than I'll ever know.

And so I thank the LORD for giving me Amanda, Jonathan, Danica and Zachary. I'm both proud, and humbled, to be their mama.

Zack is 17

God gave me four beautiful children. The youngest, Zachary, turned 17 on Tuesday.

Birthdays may mean cake and presents to a kid, but for the mom, a birthday means memories.

We think about carrying that child, and delivering that child, and bringing that child home. We think about the milestones, the things they said we’ll never forget, and all those things that make that child wonderfully unique and precious to us.

This past Tuesday, as I thought about my youngest and his 17 plus years on this earth, three moments stuck out. The times we almost lost him.

Zack’s first brush with death happened when he was about 15 months old. He came down with a bad case of croup, and our doctor said he needed to be hospitalized.

“Why?” I asked.

“So he can get nebulizer treatments every four hours.”

“I can do that.”

Dr. Galvin shook his head, and tried to tell me otherwise, but I wouldn’t budge. There was no way I was going to leave my baby there to be cared for by people he didn’t know. He’d be terrified. He’d already been through enough.

“You’ll be sorry,” Dr. Galvin told me as he wrote out Zack’s prescription.

I spent the next several days doing all I could to nurse Zack back to health. I gave him his meds as directed, the humidifier had to be run continually, and most important of all, those nebulizer treatments had to be administered every four hours. I also prayed, a lot! And every day Zack got a little bit better. By the third day he was his own happy self once again.

What a relief! And I never had to hear Dr. Galvin say, “I told you so.”

(Although I was tempted to call him up and tell him that!)

It may sound like I’m proud of how I stood up to our doctor and nursed Zack back to health on my own, but trust me, I know it could have easily gone the other way. I still thank God for pulling Zack through that.

Our second scare came when Zack was 3. My oldest two were at school, and I was home alone with the younger two. I was making lunch and they came in to bother me so I gave Danica an apple slice, and I gave Zack a nickel. Then I told them to go watch TV and that I would call them when lunch was ready.

Zack took his nickel, laid down on the floor in front of the TV, and balanced the smooth cool coin on his tongue. You can guess what happened next. The nickel slid down his throat, and became lodged in his esophagus. He tried his best to cough it up, but it soon became clear, he’d need medical attention, and fast. I called Jeff at work, he rushed home, and we took him to the clinic. Due to the tender and important veins and arteries in that area of the neck, Dr. Ecker felt the best thing to do was to airlift him to the cities. Unfortunately, it was a rainy, cold, icy, winter day, and therefore a helicopter ride was out of the question. The next thing we heard was that a doctor in Mankato was willing to have a go at getting the nickel out, so Zack was transferred by ambulance to Mankato. I rode with him.

As I sat on the bench looking down at my little boy, a strange calm came over me. I prayed that God would be with us, and that he would help Zack. But I also told God that if it was His will to take my baby from me, that that was okay too, because I knew he would be with Jesus. Even as I prayed those words and thought those thoughts, I wondered, What sort of mother would think such a thing? But somehow I knew, everything would be okay, and it brought me incredible peace.

About half way to Mankato, Zack coughed and sputtered, as he was doing this whole time, and then he sort of threw up. A short time after that, he fell asleep. When we got to Mankato, he was brought into the ER on a stretcher, wheeled into an exam room, and changed into a hospital gown. But this time, he’d woken up and noticed the hospital gown had little bears on it. “I have bears at my house,” he told the nurses. Then he went on to tell them all about his stuffed animals at home, and I knew he was out of danger. Sure enough, the X-ray confirmed it. Zack had swallowed the nickel. Five days later it reappeared and his adventure came to an end, leaving him with a new teddy bear, (a gift from the Mankato nurses which he named Nickel) and left me feeling very grateful to God once again for sparing him from what could have been a very tragic story.

Later, I was telling a friend about my experience in the ambulance. I asked her if she thought it was wrong for me to feel the way I did. She said I trusted in God, and that’s what a Christian does in times of trouble.

“Call upon me in the day of trouble and I will deliver you, and you will honor me.” Psalm 50:15

Zack had asthma pretty bad as a little kid. Several times we had to rush him to the ER. If you’ve ever been around anyone who’s having an asthma attack, you know how scary they can be. One of Zack’s worst attacks came when he was 5. He was gasping for breath like never before. Through all the wheezing and coughing, he said, “I can’t breathe. I‘m dying.”

It’s awfully hard to comfort a child when he says he’s going to die. But I tried to remain calm, and I told him over and over, "You'll be okay." We got him in to the ER as fast as we could and soon the attack had passed. An hour or two later we were all back home, safe and sound.

Like most asthma attacks, this all happened in the middle of the night, so before I put him back to bed we went through our bedtime routine all over again. After we read a few books and said our prayers I said to him, “That was pretty scary, wasn’t it, when you couldn’t breathe? But you know, Zack, if you had died, you would have gone to heaven to be with Jesus. And heaven is a really wonderful place, so it would have been okay.”

Then, almost out of the blue it seemed, Zack asked me, “Was I baptized?”

I often wonder what spurred him to ask about his baptism. I suppose it was something they had talked about at school recently. But somehow he knew, baptism is important. “Yes,” I told him. “You were baptized a few days after you were born, and that’s when God made you his child.”

I’m so glad God made Zack His child. And I’m glad He made him my child too, for 17 years and counting!

Happy Birthday, Zack. May you have many, many more!

Prism Concert Highlights

Tonight the kids had their Prism Concerts. Every year seems better than the one before! What fun. In case you missed it, here are a few highlights (Scharlemann highlights, that is):

We'll start with the jazz band and Six String Shuffle, featuring Jessica A. on the electric guitar. That's Zack on the drums.



Next, we have the Chargaliers, and Lullabye by Billy Joel. That's Danica, playing the piano. I taped her while they were practicing.




Here's another Chargalier number. Zack is the handsome young man on the left.





And finally, here's Zack's Solo in Running of the Bulls.




I wish I could show you more, but my little camera only holds 256 mb. Just take my word for it, there were tons of other highlights too. A very, very entertaining concert.

Way to go, guys! You make a mama proud.

Pride Goeth Before the Fall

I’m happy being me. I like who I am, and I’m grateful to my creator for the gifts he has given me. I guess you could say I have great self-esteem. Most days, when I look back at what I’ve accomplished, I’m proud of myself.

But as the Bible warns…”Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

Many times, I must admit, I’ve fallen due to my pride. It happened again on Thursday.

I do not like making mistakes.

That’s actually an understatement. I HATE making mistakes. Especially when it involves letting others down. Naturally, I feel sorry for whoever has suffered due to my blunder. But in truth, a large part of my frustration stems from the feeling that others have lost confidence in me. I can’t stand the idea that people might think I’m anything less than dependable, efficient, and trustworthy. Because that’s what I am. Really…I am!

Do I sound defensive? That’s how I tend to react when I mess up. I go through a stage of denial. “No way. I didn’t do that.” Even in cases where my guilt is obvious I tend to check and re-check, hoping the error was an error. But no. It was me.

The next thought I usually have is something like, “Oh, that’s not so bad.” I try to minimize the damage and somehow justify what I’ve done. “I meant to do that,” is another great line, but seldom believable.

Finally, I have to face up to the fact. I messed up. I hate this part the most. It usually involves admitting both to myself and others, that I’m to blame. This is hard for me. That beautiful self image I have of being dependable, efficient, and trustworthy pops like a bubble, and my true self is exposed. The Apostle Paul knew the feeling. He wrote about it in that famous Biblical tongue-twister: “For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do…O wretched man that I am!” Romans 7:19 & 24 (KJV)

At this point, feeling completely wretched, I’m ready to say I’m sorry. I confess my sin to both God and man, (or woman, as the case may be) and hope they’ll soon forgive me. God always does, (see Isaiah 1:18, John 3:16-18, Acts 3:19, Romans 6:23, Romans 8:1, or 1 John 1:9) and the others usually do too.

Forgiving myself, on the other hand, is a little harder. It can take a while. And during that time my self-esteem is pretty low. But you know what. That’s okay. As much as I hate it, I know God lets me mess up to keep me humble. I need to know I’m not all that great. Any skills or good in me is a gift from God. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.” James 1:17 (KJV)

There’s one last stage in this despicable cycle of humiliation. It’s when I look back at the experience, and see what I can learn from it. At the risk of boasting, I have to say, I rarely make the same mistake twice. Here’s what I learned from Thursday’s mess up.

1. I’m not perfect. No one is, except God. And He’s looking out for me. If He weren’t, I’d be making far more mistakes than I do now.

2. My supervisors at work are very patient and forgiving. They are a blessing to me.

3. I need to take a few extra minutes to edit my work before I hit print. Jeff suggests I use a technique the proof readers use where he works, and go through letter by letter, forwards and backwards. I may just do that from now on!

As they say, “All’s well that ends well.” That’s not a quote from the Bible, but it does ring true. Here’s perhaps a better verse to end with: “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11 (NIV)

Amen!

A few notes about this blog:

As alluded above, one of my mistakes on Thursday was that I typed “post due balance” instead of “past due balance” on 60 letters. That was embarrassing and annoying, but some (Jeff) would argue, not worth fretting about.

Unfortunately, that was not my only mistake. In a moment of weakness and poor judgment, I also downloaded some stuff I shouldn’t have onto the Bookstore computer. When I complained to Network Services that the computer was acting strange, they told me it was likely due to viruses, and took it away for “disinfection.” This was also embarrassing, and even more annoying as I had those 60 letters to do over, and no computer!

Thankfully, the supervisor that got her letters a day late wasn’t overly upset with me. And my Bookstore supervisor was actually quite pleased when Network Services pronounced our old computer a lost cause, and gave us a new one. Again, I feel blessed to work for such kind people.

I’d also like to give a quick word of thanks to my husband Jeff. He was a big help in the writing of this blog, and in cheering me up when I was feeling down this week. He’s a blessing to me too.

And one final note, not about this blog: Tomorrow, October 11^th, Zack, turns 16. Send him a Birthday email or call his cell phone to sing “Happy Birthday.” Email me if you need his contact info and I’d be happy to forward it to you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZACK!