"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another" Proverbs 27:17.

Everyone needs an honest friend. One good one who isn't afraid to tell you like it is. Gratefully, I have a few. One of them is my dear friend, Courtney. Interestingly enough, she used to be one of my clients when I was in Technology Sales. She worked for my largest account. Somehow she and I unwittingly got into a conversation about her husband being a pastor at a well known church in the area one day. I revealed that I was a Christian. We formed a bond based on our faith that no one would understand unless you are one of us.

We grew to spend equal time discussing business and matters spiritual during our phone conversations when I'd call on her. I left my company and she left hers. We traded information and pledged to stay connected, we both made good on that promise. Everyone should have someone in their life they know will follow through. It is such a blessing when you realize who those people are in your life. Cherish them.

When my husband died, she came to visit me. It was a long drive for her and she left a husband and two small boys at home to come be with me during an overwhelmingly difficult time in my life. She recognized a need to show up as my friend when I was too weak to articulate my desire to see her. I never forgot that. Everyone should have someone in their life that anticipates your needs when you are too weary to know what they are yourself. Return the favor.

Since then I have, as no one should be surprised, had several ups and downs in my recovery process from this ordeal. She has dutifully listened to me during our times on the phone and in person, trying to understand me and respond with the most thoughtful and earnest assessments and advice that she can derive from my sharing. I hope I have done that for her at least more than once. Everyone should have someone in their life who listens to you. Don't over do it.

Recently she came to see my new house. I was very excited to show her the modest, cottage style home I had been renovating since the winter. It is finally at a place in the finishing where I am willing to let people come see it. Walls are painted, furniture is in and window dressings hung. Just a few things needed to complete its makeover. She is my friend so I knew she'd be happy to overlook the few minor details. We wandered into rooms and up the stairs to the top floor where my daughter's room, a tiny bathroom and my office are. I gushed over my daughter's room. It is my favorite. The walls are sky blue, at the request of my four year old, with white furniture and curtains. The accent colors are bright pink, green and yellow. I know it sounds garish but it works beautifully. We turned tail and walked into my office. I picked a spa palette pastel aqua color the paint sample referred to as 'Sea Glass' with my dark walnut futon for extra sleeping space, and a few white lamps and candles.

I was in the middle of winding down my tour when her head dropped to the floor. She pointed to my iMac and printer sitting on the floor and papers strewn around in a semi-circle. "Why don't you have a desk?" she asked in a matter-of-fact tone. I wanted to make light of it but she continued, "You need a desk". Her insistence gave pause to what I wasn't able to bring myself to consider. I was deliberately, yet subconsciously not making the purchase. Courtney is a career consultant. Her job is to identify road blocks in someone's career and assist in transitioning from one to the next. In short, she has heard all the excuses people will give to tell her how and why they can't succeed. I knew I would not be glossing over this conversation with her. "Mental block." I uttered. "Why?" "Because if I buy a desk and set up my office then I really am working for myself and writing actually is what I do now." she had helped me break through. "Buy a desk.", she ended the conversation and we went downstairs. There was nothing else to discuss. If I wanted to make the commitment to my new career then I had to follow through on making it happen. One of those things is getting all the right tools to do the job well.

Courtney was not afraid to tackle the subject and she loves me enough to not let me go when she knows I need to talk about something. As I write, I am sitting at my brand new, dark walnut, simple writing desk, in a funky fabric covered dining room chair I thought would be perfect for my writing space. The finishing touch is my brushed nickel desk lamp to highlight my keyboard so I can type at night. I feel like a big girl now.

Everyone needs someone in their life who is not afraid to love you enough to be honest. Find out who that person is for you and never let them go.

Ode to Maw

"If it's not one thing, it's your mother" - Anita Renfroe

"I don't think I deserve this card" is what my mother had to say about the words that graced the cover of her Mother's Day card yesterday. My overly excited pre-schooler was jumping up and down in the kitchen when Mom came over for a visit last night "We bought you a present, Nana! We bought you a present!". It became apparent to us both that Carli was not going to let this go without bursting either at the seams with anticipation or in tears at the decline to open. I handed my mother the gift. She opened her card, read it and set it down. Next, the box which my daughter all but tore out of her hand trying to open it for her. With some coaching and patience, Carli helped her get the ribbon off. It may have been a little too likely to predict that we had selected for her yet another Pandora charm for her bracelet. It was a pretty spacer with Carli's birthstones all around it. I thought it would add some sparkle and color. She put it on the bracelet immediately. When the charm was fastened and bracelet repositioned she picked up the card again and those words spilled out.

I never expected that and I grappled with how to respond. The card referred to the caring, love and patience of some of my favorite female bible characters. The only thing I could come up with was "you do in your own way" I felt like my response was a little lackluster but when she made her statement my brain started conspiring for the exact marketing spin but I felt short. I haven't stopped thinking about it so without further delay, Mom, here is why you live up to the card.

My mother's heart could not have shown itself better than when my husband died. I had never been in a position to feel so vulnerable and stripped naked of everything mentally, emotionally and spritually as then. I needed so much but I couldn't articulate it. Mothers have an inate ability to read the unspoken in their children. My mom does this flawlessly. Instinctively, she stayed at my house for a week. She didn't ask, she didn't make any grand statements about being there for me, she just did. There was no display on her part. She often sat quietly and played in the spare bedroom with my daughter while I wandered, usually in my pajamas and unshowered, aimlessly about my house. I couldn't care for my daughter in those first days. I wanted to but I was too broken. She didn't ask me to talk, there was no wailing on my behalf. She was the continual presence that I could rely on during those darkest of days. When I returned to work, I was in great need of assistance in caring for my daughter when I had to stay late or was desperate for babysitting for those obscure holidays my day care seemed to always have off and at the worst possible times. My mother would drive over an hour to my house before dawn to make sure she could be there so I could head into the office. It pained me to ask her being so far away but she never gave it a thought. I didn't want to over step my welcome. I am still waiting for her to even give me a hint of that two years later. My mother's credentials for being caring are ones of genuineness and practicality not empty words.

The love of a mother was not something I could have possibly understood until I had my own child. The bond is indescribable and the need to protect is deep. As a single mother, I am often questioning instincts to protect versus my anxiety of over protection. As I have observed my mother, I see that it may be a healthy mix of both. My mom lamented my extra long vacation to Key West within months of my husband's departure. I felt like Humpty Dumpty scrambling to put the pieces back. She wanted to be the glue and I rebuffed her opportunities. We had many heated conversations during my time on my little, exclusive island in the keys. She visited a lot, 3 times in 10 months as a matter of fact, but her frequent visits helped me understand. She was like a mother hen trying to put her chicks under the cover of her wings. She had to see me and be with me to know that I was okay. If I had a bad day, she wanted to be there sitting next to me on the couch hugging me, not expressing thoughts and feelings over a cold phone line. She wanted to gather me and Carli close to her. Moms love to be there pick up the pieces no matter how messy it is. They want to be the first to kiss the boo-boo. My mom wanted to see physically that I was doing okay. I get that. I hate to be separated from Carli. I feel most comfortable when she is right in front of me. My mother's love is one of spending time and being present, not gifts and fluff.

Patience is a virtue. It's also part of the fruit of the Spirit. I have days where I have it and nights where I lament to my Creator that I fell short. My mother's patience is one that you would see is a thread of her life, rather than an observation of how she reacts to long lines at the grocery store. I have led an interesting life. It has been full of moments of great failure, terrible decisions and tremendous times of reinvention and miraculous achievement. My mom has been the one to not dwell on any of the negativity. I'd expect her to bring up some of my worst in moments where I think I deserved it but she never does. My mom is like God. When we confess our sins He is quick to forgive, forget and grant restoration. Mom is just like that. She has never held anything against me. She would rather focus on the things that make her feel good about me. She always writes in birthday cards and such that she is proud of me and she can't believe she gave birth to someone like me and it blows me away every time. I feel so undeserving. It makes my heart buckle with humility to read her sentiments. My mom's patience is one of the long-haul not necessarily the immediate situation. She exemplifies some of my favorite attributes of God.

Mom, you do reflect every word on that card. I just wanted you to know why. Happy Mother's Day. I love you so much and my gratitude transcends anything that I could write. Flawless? No. But you are the perfect mom for me.