by Sandy McKeown

“Teach us to fly, Momma!” my grandchildren plead when they are seeking attention. I am engrossed as my daughter-in-law begins the familiar routine.

“Hold out your arms,” she gently coaches. “Now, wave them up and down.” She watches as their little arms begin flapping. “Good! Now faster, faster!” And my grandchildren, with their arms flapping ever faster and faster, run away from their mother, their arms flapping as fast as they can go. Then my daughter-in-law calls out, “You did it! You’re flying! You’re free!”

At this point she turns back to whatever she was doing, and the kids usually come back for more attention, but that’s okay—it was just a game.

Realistically, we expected the kids to leave and “be free” on their own. After graduation, we would help them pack, show them the way to a job or college, and say, “You did it! You’re on your own! You’re free!” We also expected them to never move back home again.

This economy has changed that.

We recently moved almost five hours from where we raised our kids. We bought a bigger house. Three of the four kids who had moved out previously are back.  Did we buy too big? Some may think so. I’m not there—yet. Read the rest of this entry »

I don’t remember meeting my husband. Is that weird? It’s probable my brother, my future husband’s best friend, may have initially gestured into the living room one day and said something like, “they’re my four sisters,” as he introduced us…sort of. And we most likely turned away from the TV for a Gilligan’s Island-second, acknowledged the intrusion, and returned to our regularly scheduled after school routine. I estimate I was around ten years old at the time. I couldn’t have cared less about the guy I had just glanced at. I wasn’t exactly dreaming of a way off the island…or farm…yet.

It took a while for this guy to morph from my brother’s friend to mine. He was an “enemy of the sisters.” He would show up unannounced, often dressed in his railroad bibs with his 1970’s long, curly hair and his quick wit, and annoy us with his brotherly antics. I didn’t like him very much! Somewhere along the way, however, rivalries eased, attraction sparked, and a relationship was pursued. Feelings changed. My heart would actually skip a beat when I spotted him. Read the rest of this entry »

When my five kids were younger, I could talk on the phone, cook supper, feed the baby, pick up the toy that just squeaked under my foot, check on the kids playing in the back yard, and spell indefatigable for my oldest son doing his homework at the kitchen table—all at the same time.

Now, when there’s only one child left at home, I don’t seem to have any energy. I drag myself out of bed each morning. I wander from room to room, trying to remember what I was trying to accomplish. What’s happened to my world?

When I Google the word depression, two different types of sites pop up, some refer to “The” Great Depression and the others, symptoms and cures for “a” depression. One of the dictionary’s entries for an economic depression refers to dullness and inactivity, which I think describes both types appropriately.

Webster also states an economical depression is a period during which business, employment, and stock-market values decline severely or remain at a very low level of activity. Hmmm. Has the government just not announced how bad it is yet?

I watch the evening news regularly. Partly out of habit, part out of desire to know what is going on in the big world, which will, in turn, affect my small world. Regardless, the repetitive reporting of high unemployment, falling stock prices, and repeated government intervention into private business matters is no longer just feeding an economical depression—it’s contributing to some serious emotional depression as well. Read the rest of this entry »

Several years ago I offered to take the checkbook back from my husband. Twelve months earlier our youngest son had been experiencing countless sleepless nights, along with numerous other challenges. Realizing I was overwhelmed, my husband had taken over the checkbook and all of its correlating duties to relieve me of some stress.

A year later our son had begun sleeping much better and, consequently, so was I.

I felt better able to take back the responsibility of bookkeeper of the family. On this particular day when I suggested the transition, my husband hesitated and said, “Just a minute.”

I watched him sit down at the dining room table, grab a calculator and start tapping on the buttons. He would look quietly at the checkbook register, scratch his head, mumble something meant only for his ears, and begin tapping on the various buttons again. After witnessing this disturbing scene for a while, I asked him, “Is there something wrong?”

“Well, the balance doesn’t seem to be coming out right,” he replied.

Remaining calm, I inquired, “When was the last time you balanced it?”

“Balanced it?” he questioned.
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The good news? Lately, I’ve been lunching at restaurants with friends almost every weekday. The bad news? I have dined with more women that have “just had it” with their husbands than I would care to.

How does a marriage deteriorate to such a low point a teammate no longer wants to play? There are several reasons, of course, but various marriage experts tell us the number one reason for failure in marriage is selfishness. Philippians 2:3 admonishes us to do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than ourselves. What does that look like? Where do we find an example of unselfishness in a very selfish world?

Many years ago a supreme, omnipotent being sent the most precious gift possible, an only child, down to earth to help a planet full of people in trouble. He didn’t have a houseful of children, He only had one, a son, and He sent him down to earth to help us overcome life and death. First, life—while we are on this planet; and, second, death—our inevitable and final destination.
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Read any headlines lately? Seen the newest Halloween masks in the stores? Walk down the street alone in the dark? Yikes. It’s scary out there.

We live in a world that is frightening. War, greed, violence, selfishness, shortages…there seems to be plenty of that in this world.

What or who makes you feel safe?

Women’s libbers, sorry to burst your I-can-do-it-by-myself bubble, but my husband is my protector. I like it when my man opens my door for me. I like it when, as we walk, he gently places a protective hand at the small of my back to guide me around an obstacle in my path. I like it when, as we walk along a street, he walks closest to the traffic, providing me a barrier from possible danger and pot hole splashes.
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We watched him walk away. Quietly, unhurriedly and looking straight ahead. He didn’t even look back. My husband and I watched until we couldn’t see him any longer and then we drove away in silence, feeling the ache of leaving part of our hearts behind. Our beloved child walked away from us toward his new life. College.

Yes, we had already helped him move into his dorm. We had attended the parent orientation sessions, paid all the (yikes!) necessary bills, and now the schedule for the weekend listed Farewell to family members.

Do we have to go? Can’t we stay a little longer?

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“We need this exit,” I abruptly told my husband. We had been deep into a friendly discussion and, not realizing the turn was so close, I had failed to give him my usual warning time.

“You’re wrong!” was his emphatic answer as he drove right passed the exit. Our friendly conversation was forgotten, the mood changed in an instant.

My husband and I were in the car—again—this time, on our way to Georgia to help our daughter-in-law settle into a new apartment while our son was otherwise engaged with the military. Thankfully, she was following behind us in another vehicle rather than listening to the debate in our car.

“I’m the one with the map!” I reminded him.
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Dirty and exhausted after helping our son and daughter-in-law move, I heard a song on the radio yesterday that immediately reminded me of our wedding. I don’t recall the name of the song, but a few of the lyrics stick out.

“From this day forward…I’ll be at your side forever…” Read the rest of this entry »

Ironing is not my favorite household chore. It is a task that is tedious and never ending. Today, however, I was thrilled to do it. I ironed my fourth graduation gown. No, I am not a highly educated person, repeatedly reaching higher for more degrees, just highly productive. Our fourth child of five graduates from high school tomorrow. It is an accomplishment that is a milestone for our son, for our family, and for our marriage.
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