Guess who’s visiting? My Best Friend.

I grew up surrounded by testosterone. With three brothers and a dad in the military, the color pink wasn’t a part of any decor or found behind my closet doors in my house.

I heard a lot of, “Buck it up, Becky”, and “Mom, make her quit crying.” This was usually the aftermath of, “She won’t quit talking. Mom, make her quit talking.”

It could have been worse, though. At least the testosterone-laden men weren’t the shouting at the football game on television types, the revving up of muscle cars kind, or the noodlin’ group. Not that those things are wrong…at all…seriously…

The only reprieve from the stinky testosterone was my mommy.

She was/is beautiful, graceful, and kind. She knows how to cook chicken a thousand ways, how to bandage a knee (that doesn’t really need to be bandaged) and how to sew me the eye lit pillowcases I just had to have when I was 12.

As a child, I don’t know that I valued all of the knowledge that she had. I suppose a five year old doesn’t understand just how much effort goes into cooking three meals a day from scratch.

But, as an adult, I can’t imagine my life without her to call when I’m having a bad day, a good day, or just a bleh day.

She is my best friend and she is all mine for the next week. Well, kind’ve. I’ve still got to share her with the now-less-stinky-testosterone. I’ll take what I can get.

My Hippie Parents Surprise Me Again

My upbringing was pretty unorthodox compared to today’s standards. I would have rather spent time at home, with my brothers and parents than anywhere else.

My parent’s had no health insurance, no credit cards, occasionally a t.v. set, one car (with a one car garage), and all our dinners were made from scratch-which we had together every night.

On top of that, my dad left a “stable” career being active duty military to pursue what God had asked him to pursue. My dad is not a fan of change-so this was not a flippant decision. Let’s just say the man duct-taped his flip flops when the broke, because the new ones probably were “too different”.

So, for several years, they left every weekend to preach and sing at tiny churches all over the midwest. They barely made anything, but they made enough.

Eventually, my little brother and I joined them-Daniel was on the juice harp and piano, while I sang duets with dad or the occasional solo when I could muster up the courage.

No matter what back road we were on, there was always time to pick sunflowers and explore barns.

While in college, my parents moved to El Paso for a few years to teach at a christian school just north of the border and then on to St. Louis to be with my Grandma (my dad’s dad).

And that’s where I thought they would land-forever. The had put down roots for almost 15 years, teaching at another christian school, opening a business and remodeling Grandma’s house.

But when you seek God as my parents do, you never know where He’s going to take you.

In two weeks, they are moving to Mississippi (which is awesome because I love to type all those “s’s”) to live and work here-The Baddour Center.

It’s a Non-Profit center that offers those with intellectual disabilities a safe place to live and work. It’s a cool program: they play intramural sports together, perform dramas, offer continuing education and music programs and even have a beautiful garden center.

(Photo Source: Baddour’s Website)
My dad has taken the job of Choral Director for the Center’s choir called, “The Miracles”. The group’s goal is “to glorify God, demonstrate the abilities of persons with intellectual disabilities, and tell the story of The Baddour Center.”

This job is going to fit my dad like a glove. He gets to put to good use his music and touring skills, taking the group to 90 different concerts throughout the year.

Just when I think I’ve got their future all figured out for them, God shakes things up and moves my hippie parents to another state.

Throughout all these changes in their lives, one thing has been certain. Their hearts seek after God-over comfort and familiarity. And they will go where He leads-no matter what.

What more could a girl ask for?