Dad and Son

I posted this picture on facebook last week.  It is  Clark and Landry, both around the age of 6.  It is AMAZING to me how much they look alike.  From the nose, to the hairline, smile and especially the famous Presson eyebrows!  I love it.  <3 my handsome men. 

Landry's latest line that made me LAUGH...He woke up this morning with a "frog in his throat."  He kept clearing it noisily, and then saying..."Testing, one, two, three, testing, one, two, three."  LOL!

The Note

It is dark outside. She is tired from working one job, and is wishing she was finished with her second job. The frustrations of the day way heavy, her heart is crowded with complaining. Luckily, she just finished cooking and cleaning up supper, and homework is in the backpacks ready to be delivered to all three teachers tomorrow. As she sits at her computer working, an unusual quiet can be heard in the house. Then the “whispers” start in the next room.

Don’t ask her again! She has already said no once.

Let’s ask Daddy, he might let us do it.



You know if Mama says no then Daddy will say no, too.


He might say yes if he could just read over the paper.


Call him at work, and talk to him about it.


No, I think he needs to SEE the paper. That might help him decide to let us do it.

(A boy walks innocently into the room.)

Mama, what time is Daddy coming home?

Daddy called and said he is working very late. He won’t get home until after you are asleep tonight.


( A frustrated boy walks back to his room.)


What are we going to do? Daddy really needs to SEE this!


(More quietness as three boys are deep in thought.)


I know! Let’s put it in his Bible tonight!


Yes! You know he’ll read his Bible before he goes to bed no matter how late he gets home, and then he will see it!

The sounds of relieved boys fill the house.  The quietness is gone. The Mom’s heavy heart is lightened. Her complaints and frustrations of the day seem petty and minimal. Thankfulness glows warmly in the place that ungratefulness had darkened. She stops working to write a quick note to the man who is helping her grow three men from the sprouts of young boys. She pens words of thanks to him for being the man and the Daddy that he is, and slips it in the place she knows he will most certainly find it.

My spiritual leader...

Tonight marks a great milestone in my life! :) I am staying at my house without Clark for the first time in our 14.5 years of marriage. Yes, I am yeller (IBC phrase) when it comes to staying at home without my protector. Clark's job takes him out of town frequently, and I always drag all 3 of my little men, along with the majority of their belongings, to my parents. Tonight I am attempting to be a grown-up mama hen and keep my chicks in their nest. However, my parents have our beds ready at their house - just in case I make a bee line for them in the middle of the night. It is 12:34 p.m. and I am still confident in my ability to do this. Riley, my middle man, told me to feel free to come get him in the night if I needed him. How sweet!

It really is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I miss Clark when we are not together. My family teases me about this. I just can't help myself. He is my better half. I honor him for the husband that he is...and the father that he is. Happy Father's Day to the best Daddy that 3 boys could ever want...

I am not the spiritual leader in my home. I am a spiritual leader, but not the spiritual leader! My heart rejoices to know that my husband holds that esteemed position. I have been blessed to be married to a man of prayer. I believe that single attribute is what makes him the best daddy ever! My sons and I awake each morning to the sound of Clark praying in the livingroom. We fall asleep most nights to the same sound. This is not unusual to my sons. It is normal. It is all they have ever known. So in turn, they are developing their own prayer lives at the ages of 11, 8, and 4.

Would they have done this on their own? No. They have been taught how to touch the heart of God from the one they admire the most. After my husband ushers the presence of the Lord into my home each morning, I often have my own prayer time. The Lord's presence still lingers after he is gone to work. It follows my children and I throughout our day, and brings us back together again at the end of the day. "A house with prayer in it has God in it...when prayer becomes an unfamiliar exercise, then God himself is a stranger there. "(E.M. Bounds) Clark often works late at night, and my boys worry that Daddy will not be there to pray with them before they go to sleep. I always have prayer time with them, but yet there is something more comforting in their Daddy's prayers. They could share no greater father son bond than the bond of prayer.

I expect great spiritual accomplishments from Avery, Riley and Landry. The book of Luke tells us "...unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required." They have been given much in a father when so many today suffer from a daddy deficiet. They may forget the times Daddy took off of work to take them to the park. They may forget all of the golf excursions and fishing trips, but they will not forget that their Daddy was a man of prayer!

Dear Clark, Thank you for the spiritual leader that you are in our home. I honor you for making sure that our family is answering the call of Romans 12:12 to be continuing steadfastly in prayer. I Love you...forever and always...Happy Father's Day!

My Father's Hands

I wrote this several weeks ago, and thought I would add it to my blog in honor of Father's Day coming on Sunday. Of course, I think I have the best Dad ever. I know he would do anything for me, at any time. He has proven that time and time again! (Such as coming and getting me when I have run out of gas or locked my keys in the car for the zillionth time.) I thank the Lord for the blessing that my dad is to me. Words to describe my dad...kind, giving, loving, trustworthy, honest, strong, and ummm, hot-tempered - but don't tell him I said so! AND, he is the best Papa to my boys! Love you Dad!

My Father’s Hands

His hands were gripping the steering wheel, trying to keep the car safely on the icy interstate. Instantly, the water-works began, just as they had for the past several weeks. I was getting married soon, and everything seemed to send me into tears. I was ecstatic about my upcoming wedding, but not about moving five-hundred miles from everything that was near and dear to me.
I took a mental snap shot of my father’s hands that day. I knew I could later pull it from my heart when I needed the comfort of home. My dad’s hands were thick and powerful. The skin was like leather from the many hours he had worked outside in the harsh elements. I knew the palms of his hands were hard and calloused. The measure of the man was visible in his hands. They had held me in tight embraces, guided me as I crossed life’s many streets, built me a tree swing, and pushed me higher than anyone else could. My father’s hand had been placed on me in times of sickness and sorrow. I had watched as he raised them in worship and dropped in tithes and offerings as the plate was passed. Those work-hardened hands had slipped me extra money for unnecessary shopping adventures, and were providing the means for the wedding of my dreams. I never wanted miles to separate the memory of the hands that had done so much for me.
The realization that I was taking my well-being out of capable hands and placing them it another man’s hands became overwhelming. I began to question the safety of my fiance's hands compared to my fathers. Would he be able to care for me, provide for me, or even understand me the way that my dad did? Could I trust his decisions when the trials of life came our way? The outside cold seemed to seep in and wrap its icy fingers around my heart.
An image began forming in my mind as I pondered this. My life was not being held in the sturdy hands of my dad, but the precious nail-scarred hands of my heavenly father. His hands had provided healing, salvation, and safety at the times in my life that my earthly father had been unable to. In fact, his hands were taking my fear and anxiety of that moment and replacing it with His peace. I realized that the Lord had ultimately guided every step of my life thus far. Even more importantly, He would continue to do so in the next phase that I was entering.
The following week, everything was in place. The candles were glowing, the music was playing. I took a deep breath as I let go of my father’s hand and turned toward the man I had given my heart to. Together, in the presence of family and friends, we placed our lives into the father’s hands. I knew He would be leading, guiding, protecting, and providing for me, just as He always had.

Points to Ponder

“I trusted in thee, O Lord: I said, Thou art my God.

My times are in thy hand…” Psalms 31:14, 15.