I ran across it again (hat tip to Jennifer!), and again laughed and cried and was filled with a renewed desire to be a woman obedient enough that God can use. It’s worth the few minutes.

“Put on the whole armor of God that you may be able to withstand against the wiles of the devil.”

Our battle cry is LOVE…

O Church Arise and put your armour on Hear the call of Christ our Captain

For now the weak can say that they are strong In the strength that God has given

With shield of faith and belt of truth We’ll stand against the devil’s lies

An army bold whose battle-cry is Love Reaching out to those in darkness

Our call to war to love the captive soul But to rage against the captor

And with the sword that makes the wounded whole We will fight with faith and valour

When faced with trials on every side We know the outcome is secure

And Christ will have the prize for which He died An inheritance of nations

Come see the cross where love and mercy meet As the Son of God is stricken

Then see His foes lie crushed beneath His feet For the Conqueror has risen

And as the stone is rolled away And Christ emerges from the grave

This victory march continues till the day Every eye and heart shall see Him

So Spirit come put strength in every stride Give grace for every hurdle

That we may run with faith to win the prize Of a servant good and faithful

As saints of old still line the way Retelling triumphs of His grace

We hear their calls and hunger for the day When with Christ we stand in glory

Bria is 16 today.

I loved her from the womb, despite the shame and fear I felt as a single mother. I remember driving everywhere without my seat belt because depression had numbed my desire to live.

But I loved her still, feeling hopeless that God would ever be able to “fix” this mess into which I was ushering her.

I named her “Bria” because it means “strong” and I felt certain strength would be a necessary part of her character.  She grew into her name very well.

The tiniest remnants of childhood are giving way to a woman…a remarkable woman.

I never imagined that she would be one of my greatest influences.  My own daughter, still very much learning and growing, nevertheless makes me want to be a better woman, a woman more fully devoted to pursing Christ, a woman striving to serve harder and love deeper.

She is more capable than I am, and yet more feminine.  It’s a blessed combination of personality–hardy and delicate, always at the appropriate times.

She dons her work boots, her jeans and scarf, and out she goes with a bucket.  She man-handles the cow, comes back with the goodness of warm, raw milk, and disappears, returning with her flowing skirt and hair tied up, ready to help where it is needed.  I would find out later that she had to repair the fence too.

She believes that life is not worth living without a hearty day’s work and some days she works circles around me.

“I think the downstairs living room needs painted.” One fleeting thought and she’s off to paint it–tape it, move the furniture, climb the ladder to trim, and back down again.  Her Daddy said she couldn’t do it in one night, but she did.

If the horses are out while Dad is away, she puts them up.  “Let me try, Bria”, I say, not sure how I’m going to fulfill the offer.  Her look says it all.  It’s not demeaning, but just a protective kind of “I’ve got it, Mom”, glance, full-well knowing she is better than me at that sort of thing.

(She knew from a very young age that her mother was broken.  She felt an innate need to protect me then.  And though my Father has done tremendous healing, she still tries.)

She gets things done.  In an amazing kind of way–one of the many things I love about her.  It’s just part of who she is.  I call her the “Tasmanian House Cleaner”.

Don’t pity her; she hates that.

She wants to be her siblings’ best friend, though we struggle just like any family who lives inside flesh-covered houses.  She takes them for walks,tries to interest them in the Greek period she’s studying, and usually resists tattling.

“Whose plates do I need to get?” I ask after church.  “Yours.  I’ve already got the kids’.”

She washes all our clothes.

She is still catching up to her womanhood, but she’s not far behind.

She loves walking in the woods, reading, nestled between hay, taking pictures, researching interesting subjects, playing music, watching movies, making things beautiful, planting vegetables, blogging, sewing.

She handles a gun with the same precision as her knitting needles.

There’s a beautiful dress hanging on the form in her room that she sewed.  I break out in hives if I have to sew anything beyond a hem.

When she was younger, she got upset because a boy flipped her pony tail; she thought her purity may have been compromised

She prays for a husband that loves to work.  She prays for a husband that loves the Lord.  And contrary to critics’ assumptions, she prays for a husband that loves children–house fulls.

She cries.  She gets frustrated.  She wrestles with wrong attitudes.

(She just walked up modeling her new “invention”…a split skirt especially tailored for horse-back riding.  It’s actually really cool!)

She’s of the romantic variety…flowing things are her thing.

She is a sinner saved by grace, with the same struggles as anyone.  And at the same time, the Lord has seen fit to make her a vessel of grace poured out on my life and I am daily humbled by this gift.

She is my best friend and I am hers.

We threw the biggest humdinger of a surprise 60th birthday party for my Dad last weekend!  With months of planning, we managed to contact and invite people from my Dad’s life that he hasn’t seen in over 30 years!  Keeping it a secret was a miracle.  The surprise element was priceless.  He had suspected we were planning something for him on his actual birthday (Friday), but when we got a little snow, we canceled our plans to go out (you know a half inch of snow and the South shuts down).  So he thought his surprises were canceled and on Saturday we convinced him he was going out to eat with my brother and his wife and that we had a wedding at our house (we run a wedding business at our residence).  He was helping my brother bring in his children to “stay with us while they went out”.

He was so shocked that the “SURPRISE” we all yelled when he walked in the door didn’t even register.  It took him many seconds after that before it hit him, as he just stood in the doorway staring blankly at a hundred people gathered to celebrate.

We (his children) wanted to really honor him and the sacrifices he has made throughout his life.  The video is divided into phases of his life.  He took a job when he was 24 years old as a camp director at a Christian youth camp and we spent 12 years growing up there; some of the long-lost friends from that phase got to come to the party.

The “Alpha Ranch” phase came after that and my parents continue to operate it here near us.  They have been mom and dad to over 35 children–many pictured here–mostly long-term, and two of them became my sisters.

The legacy phase is his children and grandchildren, and then the dramatic ending was my clever brother’s idea–I loved it!

We invited people to speak a word of gratefulness to my Dad and there were lots of tears, laughter and a really great time!

It truly is an honor to have grown up with parents who were, and are, so selfless and so willing to give up their lives in service to others.