Wildflower Writes

In honor of Father’s day, I’m going to tell you about my dad. Tomorrow, I’ll let him speak for himself. My dad survived three girls growing up in his house. We always joked that he was badly outnumbered; even the dog was female. He has never indicated that he was dissatisfied raising three girls rather than any sons. His passion for sports was passed down, however. I started playing baseball when I was six, soccer when I was eight, and basketball when I was nine. I also ran my first 10K when I was nine, and started volleyball when I was ten. I believe there was also a gymnastics class, tennis lessons, and a never-ending golf game in there as well. As far as I can remember, Dad never missed a single game or meet. Sometimes he’d show up still dressed in his 3-piece suit, and find his place on the bleachers. He has a deep, strong voice, and I could always hear him cheering me on. He would often kick me off the couch at home and get me out tossing a softball, shooting some hoops,...

“For wisdom is more precious than rubies, and nothing you desire can compare with her.” –Proverbs 8:11 Wisdom is difficult to understand or appreciate. In a society where truth is considered an arbitrary subject, and tolerance is valued more highly than what is right, wisdom becomes something of past generations, gained merely be life experience. Even though I seek wisdom, I don’t ever feel wise. It seems like daily I have decisions to make and I rarely feel confident that I’m choosing the right path. I have this twisted desire to interfere in the lives of others- to give them advice or provide for them- and never know for sure what the right thing to do is. I am also horrible at organizing my time, things, or finances. I know what I value, but it’s difficult to make tough decisions. For example, I play flute in the church orchestra. I originally signed up to get my husband involved. The problem is, I haven’t played in a group since sixth grade. It’s like a 12 year old trying t...

Sometimes I worry about what kind of mom I am. I don’t spend inordinate amounts of time with my children. Sometimes I yell at them. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t about people or situations that frustrate me. Sometimes I forget to keep up with their papers, projects, and events from school and activities. Sometimes I shut myself up in my room for some alone time. When it comes down to it, I am largely responsible, along with my husband, for the kind of people my children become. By helping support their interests and abilities as they grow, we give them tools to become what they are created to be. By instructing and disciplining, we teach them what is and is not appropriate in the social arena. It’s more than turning my children into responsible citizens, however. Whether I like it or not, their view of the world is colored by their interaction with me. When I show them affection, they feel how great it is to be loved. When I laugh with them, they learn how to find joy. ...