Emily slammed the door and flung her backpack to the floor. She didn’t have to say a word. I already knew the problem. It was the same problem she’d had since school started. I’d noticed it at back-to-school night. It seemed like every kid in her sixth grade class had grown over the summer – except Emily. 

She plopped onto the couch and shook her head. “I am so tired of being the shortest kid in my class.” 

I sat down next to her. “What happened?”  

“We picked teams for volleyball today,” she said, “and like always, I was the last one picked.”  

“Well,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “That’s what I call saving the best for last!”

“Seriously Mom, I can barely reach the top of the net – let alone spike a ball over it!”    

“Listen to me," I said. "You’re a great kid. It doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” 

Emily sighed. “You always say that.” She looked down and picked some nail polish on her little finger. “I just feel, you know, like nothing special.”

I shook my head. “You don’t realize how special you are.”

A few weeks later Emily faced another challenge when we shopped for a dress for her Christmas program.

“I don’t like it.” Emily crossed her arms and stared into the department store mirror.

“I think it looks cute,” I said, tilting my head to the side. 

“Mom, I am not wearing ruffles or bows to my Christmas program.”

I guess I couldn’t blame her. Most of her friends wore trendy clothes from the junior department, but Emily couldn’t fit into those sizes.

I glanced down at the shoes she had snatched from a display. “Oh Em, those heels look almost dangerous to walk in.”

“They’re fine.” She took a couple wobbly steps. That girl, I thought, she’d try anything to look taller.

The school year continued, but every now and then Emily still had rough days. I tried my best to encourage her. 

“You know what, Em? You’re a good student and a great kid.”

She rolled her eyes but I continued anyway.

“You’re kind and thoughtful – and you’ve got a big heart. Those are the things that matter – not how tall you are.”

I knew she heard me; I just wasn’t sure if she believed me. Then one day I got a phone call from the principal.

“I’ve got some exciting news,” the principal said, sounding almost giddy. “Emily was chosen to receive the Illinois Principal’s Association Student Leadership Award!”

“Okay …” I began, “I’m actually not familiar with-”

“It’s a program our school participates in every year. All of the students vote for one boy and one girl based on behavior, strong character, leadership skills and academics.”

“So Emily’s classmates picked her?”  

“Yes they did,” the principal said. “It was actually a landslide.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

That afternoon after school Emily dashed through the door.

“Mom! Did you hear the news? Did my principal call?”

“Yes she did.” I said, putting my arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “And you know what I think?”

Emily looked up at me, grinning.

“Maybe you are the shortest kid in your class, but it sounds to me like your classmates look up to you.” 

I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I hadn’t even planned to stop by the mall. But I had a few minutes to kill before picking up my daughter. I figured I may as well browse a bit. Just to see if anything catches my eye. After all, you never know. Sometimes you can find something special when you’re not even looking.

I put my van in park. Nearby, I noticed a burgundy van pull into a handicapped spot. A white-haired, elderly man swung open the door. He slowly turned in his seat, lifted his left leg and guided it down to the pavement. Then he eased the other leg to the ground.  

He stood to his feet, taking a moment to find his balance. Then he slid the side door open and pulled out a walker. Oh good, I thought. He needed the extra help. I watched him lean over the walker and begin to shuffle on his way.

But instead of heading toward the mall, he circled around to the other side of the van. He opened the passenger-side door and a woman’s shaky hand reached for his. Then he carefully positioned the walker in front of her.

I’m not sure why, but I found myself fascinated with that couple. I know it sounds silly. I mean, I should’ve jumped out of the van, ran up ahead and held the door for them. Instead, I just watched them. And wondered about their story.

I tried to imagine the man as a nervous young groom – and the woman as a beautiful bride. I pictured them saying their wedding vows. “To have and to hold, from this day forward …” Vows they obviously took seriously. Surely that couple had a lot of history between them. They had persevered through hard times. And celebrated good times. But side-by-side they faced it all.

And now, side-by-side they inched their way through the parking lot.

They paused a moment, maneuvering the walker up a small step onto the sidewalk. Then the old man opened the door for his wife and they disappeared inside.  

I promise I’m not a stalker. But when I see something special, I can’t help but admire it. And write about it.

Sometimes you find something beautiful when you’re not even looking for it. Like the other day at the mall. 

And I didn’t even have to go inside to see it. 

Hi Everyone~

Sometimes Curt and I have different ideas about what's "best" for our kids. Of course my way is right. After all, mother knows best, right?

Wrong.

And I vividly remember one night when that became clear.

Today I'm sharing all the dirty details on the Quad City Moms Blog. I invite you to check out my blog post,
Let Dad Be Dad. I'll also share some tips and encouragement for spouses with different parenting styles.

Have a great week!

Sheri








My kids took such pleasure in making fun of me. They were sure I was the last person on earth (besides Grandma and Grandpa) who didn’t have a smart phone. Honestly, I didn’t care. My beat-up old phone met my needs. I could make phone calls. I could send texts. I could even take slightly blurry, mediocre pictures. 

I’ll admit, sometimes I felt a tad jealous when other moms whipped out their sleek little gadgets and checked their email or logged onto Facebook. 

But oh well. Who needs gadgets anyway?

Apparently Curt thought I did, because guess what I got for my birthday? My very own iPhone 6! Finally, if for only a moment, my kids thought I was cool. 

It was a great gift. It had a cute purple case and tons of nifty features. There was only one problem. I didn’t use any of those features.  

Yep. This phone offered the world at my fingertips, but I used it only to text my kids and call my mom. I definitely wasn’t using it for what it was made for. (Steve Jobs would be so disappointed.)

Finally after a week or two, I started exploring my options. I downloaded a few Apps. I subscribed to some podcasts. And, just to see what all the fuss is about, I took a few selfies. After all, this phone was a gift; I should use it to its potential! 
                                                                                             
You know, God gives us great gifts too. Unfortunately; like my cell phone, we tend to ignore them. 

Sounds crazy doesn't it? What if God Himself handed you a beautiful present – and you refused to open it? What if you just threw it in a closet and shut the door?

I mean seriously, who would ignore a gift from God?

Well … me, I guess.

When I first started writing for the church newsletter, sweet elderly ladies tried to encourage me. They'd stop me after church and say the nicest things.

“I really enjoy your writing, Sheri. God has given you a gift.”

I’d smile and thank them, but inside I didn’t believe it. What? A gift? Nah! Writing is just my silly little hobby.

For nine years I was more than happy to write for the church. It was fun. It was fulfilling. And it felt safe.

Then Madison started kindergarten, and I began feeling like I should step out of my safe comfort zone. After all, God says if we are faithful with the little things, He will trust us with big things.

And He proved it to me.

The more I trusted Him with my writing, the bigger my audience became. Today I write for Guideposts Magazine. Guideposts generally has two million subscribers – which translates to around six million readers.

Whew! The thought of six million people reading my words … only God could do that!

So how about you? What do you enjoy doing? Is there something you seem to be naturally good at? It’s not a matter of pride; it’s about exploring the gift God gave you. He decides what gifts to give; but only we can decide what to do with those gifts.

Let me encourage you. If you're faithful to use what God has given you - either big or small – He will be faithful to put opportunities in your path. He proved it to me. Let Him prove it to you.


“Your talent is God’s gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God.”
- Leo Buscaglia