Summer Promises

The gray has turned green and yellow.  The sun is so hot, I pulled out the sprinkler to water my newly planted flowers. Madison put on her bathing suit and ran over the grass with the water falling down on her. I love summer nature!

Being outside makes our bellies hungry and we slice open a fresh watermelon. Fire up the grill, pop open a drink, and slice up some summer veggies. My girl and I will hold a contest to see who is the fastest at shucking corn and we will have to shoo away Tucker (our doggie) who would like to participate and snatch an ear of corn. I love summer food!

Two more days of school!  Two more days of waking up at 6:15.  I will set the alarm for an hour later, or maybe a little more. I will roll out of bed and grab a throw and a fresh cup of coffee and sit and write. My sleepyhead will join me just a little later and we will sit and cuddle. When we chat a bit and begin to wake up and plan our day, we will make some pancakes. I will add bananas to mine.  She will take her’s plain.  I love summer mornings!

Pretty soon I will write about late nights watching fireworks, summer weddings and my crazy dance moves, the perfection of a fire pit and a backyard full of cousins, and Madison swimming with dolphins!  The dates are set, family awaits our travel, it’s going to be a celebration to write about!  I love summer promises!

Love Covers

In the preschool years, my second home was Chick-fil-A. Madison could spend hours exhausting herself on that little playground with the excitement of new friends joining her every few minutes and I could sit (when you are a parent, just sitting is such a beautiful idea!)…I could just sit and savor a cup of coffee and admire my sweet girl living life. 

One particular day, we were in the midst of this routine. In the booth beside me, an (assuming) father was going through this same schedule, only his was not going as smoothly. 

His toddler was standing in the booth beside him holding a reciently acquired helium balloon. He stood beside his father, who was eating a chicken sandwich, and continued to bop his father in the head with the balloon.  Bop. Bop. Bop. Bop.  In the same spot, right on top of his head. Bop. Bop. Take a bite. Bop. Bop. The dad had a blank stare into the abyss as he continued to bite and chew. Bop. Bop. Bop. Bop. Bop. Bop…..

And I giggled a little to myself. I knew EXACTLY what that father was thinking. He was thinking:  “I know where my son is. He is not hurting himself. He is not making a mess. AND I get to eat my lunch.”  Bop. Bop. Bop. 

Ya see, PARENTS LOVE THEIR CHILDREN!  And we let SO MUCH go, just slide by unacknowledged or remembered because LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF WRONGS!  

I am a mother!  THERE IS NOTHING, I really mean NOTHING that I would not do for my girl!  Now, I am the first to admit that being a mom is not easy!  The whole process starts out with pain, followed by lack of sleep, a continuation of public embarrassment, the most expensive cost I have, constant wiping of another’s nose, growing to whine when she doesn’t get her way, talk back WAY before I expected THAT, leave toys for me to step on, complain about a home cooked meal, and acquire pets that I must care for!!!!  Oh how the list goes on!  And then it goes on some more!

WHY, OH WHY?!  Why did I do this on purpose?!  Why do I consider her, alongside my husband, my greatest blessing?!  

There is one reason, and only one reason:  LOVE.

I love her!  Down in the depths of my heart!  More than I care what people think about me, more than new clothes, more than sleep, more than my freedom of being spontaneous without having to hire and pay a babysitter, more than my prebirth body, more than money, more than my career, more than anything I am or anything this world has to offer!

So, while I think my girl is pretty great (SHE IS AMAZING!) being a Mom can be downright HARD!  But the truth of the Bible that “Love covers a multitude of wrongs.”  I LOVE MY GIRL past the hardships of motherhood, clear past the burden of living with and raising a human being, clear up to the level of I AM THE MOST FORTUNATE PERSON IN THE WORLD TO BE ALLOWED THE PRIVILIDGE OF BEING MADISON’S MOMMA!  Thank you Jesus for blessing me with Madison!  

And being a Momma has helped to teach me one of the biggest lessons of my entire life:  how much my Heavenly Father loves me!  Take my analogy and multiply it by a hundred, then again by a thousand, then a million, then keep doing that all day and it is only a tiny picture of what Christ has done for me!!!  

My shortcommings are far past bopping him on the head with a balloon and waking him up in the middle of the night. My sins are the painful, ugly ones. And my Father, he is perfect, literally perfect!  Knows everything, can do anything, made everything perfect!  And for some reason, he chose to bring me into this world, raise me, and prepare for me a perfect heaven!  

His love, the only perfect love, paid the ultimate sacrifice to cover my multitude of wrongs!  THANK YOU FATHER!  I LOVE YOU!

Pass Me on the Street

Hello friend of this great blogosphere. Let’s both sip coffee and have a chat here. 

I love to read, the land of the possible. Here, in this world, we learn and grow and achieve the impossible. 

I’ll give you a hug, we will like and share and smile. But our spirits have secrets hidden all the while. 

My mind may not know, but my soul will stop and laugh and greet. As we both go about our business, as you pass me on the street. 

I Want to Drink Coffee

I want to write like Robert Frost, while I hold a mug. For all the world to admire and analyze my words.  Words born of moments. Moments of solitude, of cherishing love. Love reminds me of coffee. 

Sitting wrapped in the mountains, waking from the morning while I sip a fresh brew. I aspire to imagine like Beatrix Potter, sometimes I get a taste…a taste of coffee reminding me of an energizing spirit and happy clothed animals. 

I have made improvements on CS Lewis.  Oh yes, that is true.  Because when he said, “You can never get a cup of tea big enough or a book long enough to suit me,” he must have meant coffee. I would never make a typo like that. 

I want to write like the great authors of old, to publish books, sign copies, change the world through my words. It is my dream, my passion, my love. Writing is the art of my mind, my breath, my heartbeat.  I love to put pen to paper….but even more, I love to drink coffee. 

Blog?  No Thank You. 


I write. I like to write. Like books, write. I cuddle up with an old fashioned piece of paper and an old fashioned pen and I let them hug and kiss and make out. Well, the paper is not actually old fashioned. It is just that I like the feel of the pen rolling across the paper and the look of my handwriting. I am not good at to many things. I’ve always had neat handwriting. Let’s not do away with one of the few things I am good at and eliminate writing by pushing away on a keyboard or an iPad or using one finger to poke away my writing on a phone. No. Thank.  You.

Caroline, you should start a blog. Blog?  Oh, no thank you. I am a writer. And blog is a funny word.

I filled my notebook and I scratched away on napkins. No no. Writing on napkins does not give that same nice handwriting feel but there was the idea and it had to get out and blog is a funny word.

So, I hand wrote my book, a novel, it started getting long. And moving the paragraphs was a little hard in the editing process. But when I first started out, I did like that feeling of sitting down with blank paper and a pen and looking at my neat handwriting. Blog?  No thank you.

And I like to cuddle with a blanket and a pen and a piece of paper and sip a mug of coffee. Well, I really like a space heater, but that doesn’t look as pretty in my idealistic mind while I am sitting in my idealistic world writing my idealistic article. I am an idealist. But I have to use a travel mug because I like my coffee to stay hot for a long time and I don’t like to spill my idealistic hot coffee on my idealistic white paper with my idealistic neat handwriting. Blog is a funny word.

So, I wrote eight children’s books and I wrote a novel. But the novel got really long and my handwriting got really messy and it was getting much too difficult to edit. So, I moved my writing to my desktop. Typing it out was much easier and much faster and the words flowed out on the keyboard in a nice, neat little font. Which isn’t really fair because it looks the same for everyone instead of my neat handwriting being admired. So, I sat typing out my book and storing it in a file that I would like for you to imagine as a hardback book with a cool leather cover and my neat handwriting throughout the book, while I sipped my hot coffee that I would like for you to picture in your head in an artsy clay mug. A big one, because I like lots of coffee.

But I do not want to blog. I just want to check out the site. Blogging is a funny word and I like to write with pen and paper, but since I am taking a break, because my hand got really tired, and since I am on the computer anyway, I am going to sneak a peak at WordPress. Blog is a really funny word.

I’ve only set up this account because I am just playing around. I submit a post every morning at 9:00 am because I have these ideas swirling around in my head begging to be shared, they don’t like being stored in notebooks or crumpled and lost in a computer file. They’ve grown into big girl writings, socializing in this big modern world. And I like that I can pull out my iPad, or even my phone while I am away from home, and poke with one finger and submit a post, rather than scratching away on a Starbucks napkin.

But as I am sneaking around this blogging world, meeting and virtually hugging and making friends with my ten thousand followers and growing.  Please know that I do not know how I got here…but I like it. And please imagine me writing snuggled in a blanket with a fresh cup of coffee and my neat handwriting kissed across some old fashioned paper. Blog?  Yes, please.  I am a writer. And blog is a funny word.

I am published!  Please click on the link below for more information and to purchase

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A Resounding Gong Clanging Cymbals

Ouch! I love LOVE love my family, but I write this post with my tail between my legs. How many times am I the clanging cymbal?!

“Dirty clothes in the basket. Shoes in your closet. Feed the geckos….clang. Clang. Clang. Why do you always have to leave your shoes out?!”

I so badly want to be a loving wife and mother but I so often, so very often, fall so very short! I need Jesus!

Love is patient. Errr. I am not a patient person. It doesn’t take much for me to get irritated.

It is not self seeking. “Can I just have 5 minutes to myself?!” Head down, ears back, tail tucked as I think about how self seeking I am.

Love keeps no record of wrongs. “You always…” How often do I pull that list out on my husband?!

It is not easily angered. OK! I give up!

AND YES! That is where I need to be! I can not be a patient Mommy without Jesus! I can not be a wife that does not keep a record of wrongs without Jesus!

And that is what matters to me! To be the wife and mother that Christ calls me to be, to daily show my family how much I love them by letting Jesus be perfect love through me. Because I can’t! I fall so short of the
1 Corinthians 13 love!

Love is more than a feeling! Love is action. Love is changing for someone, love is choosing their needs above your own, love is being patient with my daughter in the morning before I’ve had coffee, love is staying in budget for my husband instead of demanding what I want, love is surrendering to Jesus because He is perfect love!

And these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.


I Corinthians 13

Momma Bear Stands Up for Real Beauty

It literally disgusts me. Going about my business and then that creepy, skin crawling feeling of “that.” Turning my head and seeing some pervert eyeing me like I am something not human to be drooled over.

Men that see women, treat women, as nothing more than their looks, as objects. Pornography. A side note does not do justice to the evil of reducing women to an online or magazine or movie sexual object to be used and discarded. Scientifically, there is a direct relationship between pornography and sexual addiction, destruction of the family, sex trafficking, rape, and even murder.

But this article is not to address pornography and men.

Momma Bear sees the world through a new lens.

Memories of girl time. I was teaching my (then 6 year old) daughter to do what girls do best. Shop. Madison and I are strolling through the mall and enjoying our time together. Proudly holding her hand as we wander from store to store. Browsing through the animal books in Barnes and Noble. Oohing and ahhing over the puppy and kitty pictures. Picking out 3 new hair bows and letting her choose two. Waiting in line for an apple juice and a coffee and then sitting a while. Giggling and making plans for the rest of the day. I treasure moments with my little girl.

Shopping accomplished, we head through the department store to the exit to continue on our winter adventures. Giggling, talkative Madison turns silent. I follow her stare to a perfume advertisement of a woman dressed in a ribbon. Yes, only a ribbon loosely and barely covers her naked perfect body.

She has seen it. For the first time, part of her innocence is stolen. My six year old has seen PORNOGRAPHY!

I see her mind spinning. I see her thinking this woman is beautiful. I see her thinking, “perhaps this is how I am supposed to look.” I see her question her own self image.

Hell no! Momma Bear kicks in!

“Madison, look at that picture,” I point out what she is already looking at, “that ribbon would fall.”

“Follow me.” I take her little hand and guide her to another picture, not hard to find in the perfume/makeup section of the department store. “Look at that.” I point out a woman, dressed in a dress that barely covered her more than the woman dressed in a ribbon. This woman was smiling as she carried a large stack of presents with snow falling all around her. “What is she doing Madison?”

She studied the picture, “Walking in snow.”

“Where is her coat? Where are her mittens? Why is she wearing a short dress with no leggings? What do you think she would feel like?”


“Madison, this picture is not real life. This picture was taken so that we look at it and think, ‘She is pretty. I want to be like her. I will buy this.’ Madison, I think she looks ridiculous. I think it is sad that she is using her body to sell things.”

And then I looked her pudgy little six year old body in the eyes and promised, “Madison, You are beautiful! These pictures are not real! I never ever want you to try to look like this!”

I saw the relief in her little six year old eyes as she proclaimed, “No one can wear a ribbon!”

She got it! Thank you Jesus!

My daughter plays sports, she eats healthy, she has a brilliant curious mind, she loves people, she loves animals. She was made beautiful inside and out and she is treasured by the God of the universe! How dare anyone try to tell her that she is not good enough!


I am published!  Please click on the link below for more information and to purchase

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We are NOT Morning People

We are not sugar people. Oh yes, about half the teeth in our bodies are sweet teeth, but in the name of healthy living I have opted to never eat sugar ever again. I’ve seriously lost track, but I believe I am around two years. It just isn’t a temptation anymore. I never eat (processed) sugar. Ever.

Being a Momma, I watch sugar directly entice and then punish my daughter. Prior to Christmas, she was “off sugar.” Healthy 7 yr old girl. Holiday: Cookies, candy, cupcakes, candy, hot chocolate, candy. Everywhere. And I see it. I see her little nose begin to run and turn red from being wiped and wiped and wiped. After Christmas resolutions: Back to limited sugar. Runny nose disappears. Fact: Bodies are weakened by sugar.

All that to say, this morning: Donuts. “Donuts For Dads.” A school sponsored event for the kids and dads of the school to join together and eat donuts.

When a sweet toothed girl, with a mom that limits sugar, found out that she and her Daddy would be attending the sugar feast, she proclaimed, “Tomorrow is going to be the BEST DAY EVER!” Singing and dancing and unable to hold in her excitement.

All in fast forward: Bedtime. Snoring. Alarm breaks the morning. Momma wakes up Madison.

“This is the WORST DAY EVER!” Madison proclaims as she stands in my bathroom, getting her hair brushed, tears streaming down her face.

How did we get here? What changed?

Simply the time of day, my friend, simply the time of day. Us, Hendrys are not morning people.

I am trying to teach our daughter that in the mornings she needs to learn to just stay quiet for a while. But until she learns that, she will walk around crying and shouting out “worst day evers,” and everything else that her Daddy and I are thinking, but we’ve learned to keep out mouths shut….by inserting coffee anytime we think about saying something before 8:00.

Coffee, ahhhhhh, the fuel of us not morning people. I wake up and my first thought is “Coffee.”

So, as James and Madison are driving to school (this was written yesterday, Friday) …, as James and Madison are driving to school, I am sitting here with my first cup of hot coffee in my hands, with one profound thought in my head: Hendrys are NOT morning people.


I AM PUBLISHED!  Please click on the link below for more information and to purchase

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What If I Was a Writer?

What if I fell in love? If he was hot and melted my heart and he asked me on a date. What if I discovered he noticed me, what if he liked me, and called me back? What if that guy was kind, and laughed when he watched funny movies when he was the only one in the room, if he rubbed my shoulders when he watched car shows, and if he offered to take me shopping? What if we got married? What if LOVE was REAL?

What if I had a baby? I would love that little stinker just for being born! What if I had a daughter? What if her first word was “Momma?” What if she loved school, and loved every single animal in the whole world, and collected more stuffys than I ever wanted in my house? What if we got to play board games together? What if I could wait in carline and pick her up from school? What if a beautiful little girl called me “MOMMY”?

What if I was a writer? What if I was brave enough to share? What if I met thousands and thousands of friends over the blogosphere? What if the number kept growing? What if I published a book? What if I got to sit in my living room, beside a fire, petting my doggy, drinking coffee, and writing on my new iPad? What if I called myself a poet? What if people LIKED what I wrote?

Well, THAT would be REALLY COOL!



I AM PULBISHED!  please click on the link below for more information or you can find my two books, Spiritual Flesh and Blood and Beautiful Life with Cancer, Hope During the Hard Times on Amazon (Kindle edition available)


Sometimes I Want Everything I’ve Got

Sometimes vacation is over.  Sometimes there is a big mess to be cleaned up.  There are bills to be paid.  It rains and puddles form and it keeps on pouring.  Sometimes it is cold outside and I forgot my mittens.  Often it is late and I am tired and there are still things to be accomplished.  The laundry is never done.  Always books not read, projects not accomplished, and goals left incomplete.  Slow and dramatic the music plays.

But sometimes my girl and I go on a lunch date with new friends.  We linger and have coffee and gelato.  Then my girl and I head to see the new Annie.  We chat and compare because we have read the book and seen the original movie.  Every now and then there is already dinner cooking in the crockpot.  Sometimes, when things are simple, I see that I’ve got everything I ever wanted.  The movie isn’t over and we are already playing through the happily ever afters.  The beat is a happy melody and merry is my heart.