Guest Blogger .. Kendra Smiley

Be Encouraged Parents… There is Hope along the
JOURNEY OF A STRONG-WILLED CHILD

Have you been blessed with a strong-willed child? Are you amazed that anyone could use the words “blessed” and “strong-willed” in the same sentence? If the answer to both of those questions is yes, I completely understand. Almost twenty-eight years ago, I gave birth to an adorable little boy who was definitely a strong-willed child.

His strong-willed nature was not obvious from day one although I have met parents who say they knew immediately that their son or daughter was strong-willed. Evidence of Aaron’s strong-will appeared when he was about two years old. That was when he let everyone know that he wanted to control his world.

Following a major upset caused by Aaron, he and his father met eyeball-to-eyeball on the stairs. “Aaron,” said his firm and loving dad, “I will be with you every step of the way and you will not win!”

Did Aaron hear the words of his father that day and immediately become a compliant child, willing and wanting to please those around him? No, but his dad, my husband John, was true to his word. The steps of Aaron’s journey were not taken alone. And even though there were battles along the way, Aaron did not win. We knew that this lovable and capable little boy was not prepared to be in control of his world even though that was his desire. Instead it was our responsibility and our privilege to Be The Parent.

The challenges of raising a strong-willed child to responsible adulthood can be overwhelming and exhausting. I used to ask John time and time again, “Why does Aaron hate me?” And John’s answer was always the same, “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just testing to see if you love him enough to maintain control.” It is very likely that your strong-willed child is testing you too. How are you scoring on that test?

Today we no longer have a strong-willed child. Instead we have a formerly-strong-willed-child-turned- responsible-adult. Aaron is now Dr. Aaron Smiley, doctor of veterinary medicine. He is married and he and his wife have a little girl.

Take heart, parents, there is light at the end of the tunnel. But be warned. If you do not accept the responsibility to stay with your child “every step of the way” and be certain to “win,” that light might be the headlight of a train coming toward you with full force.

Find out more about Kendra at her website: http://www.kendrasmiley.com/ (Kendra and John Smiley, along with their son, Aaron have authored the book JOURNEY OF A STRONG-WILLED CHILD to help you along your journey. You can contact the Smiley’s at www.ParentingLikeAPro.com )

Guest Blogger ... Virelle Kidder

“Daddy’s Home!”

Pearl Girl: Virelle Kidder
Pearl of Wisdom: God is near and He never leaves.
Favorite verse: “Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.” (Psalm 27: 10)

I was seven when my father left. For years life in our home felt unsafe and unpredictable. My older brother Roger and I both knew Daddy was an alcoholic and had a mental illness. I loved him greatly, but that first night without him, we all slept soundly.

“Where’s Daddy?” I asked my mother after school. “Is he coming home?”

“I don’t know.” That was it. I never asked again.

So I begged God to bring my Daddy back, but He wasn’t answering either. Then one day my mother opened a letter from him saying he was coming to take Roger and me away. Friends paid for us to stay in a nearby hotel while the police waited in our living room with the shades down. They took my father to jail that night, and the next morning to a mental institution where he died of a heart attack a few years later.

That’s when secrecy became our family code. Along with it, grief and darkness moved into my heart and lived there a long time. It felt like moving through the shadows while others lived in the sunlight. I tried talking to God. My bedtime prayers turned into desperate questions cried into my pillow. Where are you, God, in all this? Why have you abandoned us just like my father? But I never heard Him answer, and eventually, gave up asking. How was I to know He heard every word?

Scroll forward many years to one hot summer Sunday in Baltimore. I was married now to my dream husband whose first job after grad school brought us to Johns Hopkins University. We’d been invited to attend church with Steve’s new co-worker and his wife. We went only to be polite. Two hours later, we’d finished a delicious dinner at their home when Keith leaned back in his chair and said, “Mind if I read a passage from the Psalms?”

My back stiffened. “Sure, go ahead.” What else could I say? Steve and I were captives at their dinner table along with our wiggling three year old. Then Keith opened an enormous Bible right to the middle. Great. This will take a long time. By now God and I were barely distant relatives. Listening seemed irrelevant and far too late. Keith read forever from some Psalm, his wife Ginny bending forward to listen at his elbow.

When he finished I said, “May I ask a question?” Steve cleared his throat nervously and looked away. “How do you know this is true? Show me where it says Jesus is God! Why do you believe this?”

Poor things. They were new believers, eager for us to share their full color world of faith. And I was their worst nightmare. But what I never expected was such extreme patience and kindness handling my barrage of questions. It provoked me to find answers on my own, which I intended to do.

First thing Monday I dug through boxes in the basement until I unearthed the old Bible I’d won in fifth grade. This stuff can’t be true like they said. After reading about ten minutes in Genesis, I slammed it shut and headed for the kitchen when a small whisper came, “Why not read it like it was true?”

What was that? Oh, well, reading a few more minutes can’t hurt. I walked back to the couch and picked up my Bible again. Instantly, I was hooked. Something had changed. I read nearly all day, stopping only for absolute necessities.

I soon found out God had dysfunctional family members, too. Lots of His children made a mess of their lives, just like my dad. I wasn’t even close to perfect either. No secret code here. God told the whole story. I was hooked.

For months I read, until one morning I simply stopped, went upstairs and knelt weeping like a small child by my bed. I begged out loud, “Jesus, if you want this stupid soul of mine, I’m yours. Please let me into Your family.” Peace came in to my heart. I didn’t understand much at the time, but I knew Jesus had answered my prayer. I couldn’t wait to call Ginny and tell her. She explained Jesus died to make that happen. He wanted me, too!

Oh, the kindness and mercy of God to welcome me Home to his family. He promised He would never leave me alone again, be my Father forever, and always speak the Truth through His Word. Nothing meant more to me then or now.

Many years have gone by, and now I marvel at the gift God gave me in my childhood pain. He equipped me for ministry to others who have experienced similar loss, pain, or disappointment in life. God’s ways are seldom easy to understand, but they are always best. He is the perfect Father who will never leave, the One whose love we can lean on every day, for He has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

About Virelle Kidder: She is a seasoned communicator who loves speaking and writing about the reality of knowing God. She is the author of six books including The Best Life Ain’t Easy and Meet Me at the Well (both with Moody, 2008), and countless articles published worldwide.

Virelle and her husband, Steve, have four grown children and eight grandchildren and live in Sebastian, Florida. Please visit Virelle at http://www.virellekidder.com/ and sign up for her newsletter, “Virelle & Friends.”

Guest Blogger ... Dena Dyer

Be sure to check out Dena's wonderful blog, Mother Inferior and sign up for her FaithLifts!


The Sanctity of Simple Things

Teach us delight in simple things. —Rudyard Kipling

I've battled depression for several years. Mostly, it's under control because of my medication, exercise, periodic visits to a counselor, family support, and other things I try to make a part of daily life.
One of those "helps" is being grateful for the small miracles that happen every day. Depression can be a black cloud looming over my head, and noticing everyday wonders has helped poke holes in the clouds to let God's grace shine through.

Case in point: a day last spring, which I recorded in my journal—not because of its hugeness, but because of the little things that made it wonderful.

On that particular day, I ached with tiredness and I had run out of my anti-depressants over the weekend and had to wait to get more. (My depression is always worse when I'm tired.) Jordan, Carey, and I were also fighting spring sniffles, which made us all a little testy.

But it was a bright, cloudless afternoon, and Carey decided to mow our backyard, since its height could have concealed a small car. Jordan helped Carey clean up the toys and play tools strewn about in the back yard. He even put on a half-face mask like Carey, who has to be careful with his allergies when he does yard work. I watched from the table and chairs on the patio, journal and Dr. Pepper beside me.

Then sleepy Jordan asked me if he could have his sleeping bag and put it in his clubhouse so he could "west."

Pretty soon, my four year-old prince was curled up on his blue and yellow bag, arm around his stuffed frog, fast asleep. No doubt he had been lulled by the sun, the hum of the mower, and the frequent birdsong.

And instead of aching with tiredness and gloominess, I began to ache with love and joy and thankfulness. In our small corner of the universe, I was suddenly bursting with gratitude for small miracles—and large ones. For sniffly boys who sleep contentedly in clubhouses, for hardworking daddies who care for exhausted mommies, for the red bird that kept circling the yard, for blue skies—and for peace.

In that moment, the sanctity of simple things overwhelmed me. It's what Arthur Gordon summed up so well in his lovely book, A Touch of Wonder: "In moments of discouragement, defeat, or even despair, there are always certain things to cling to. Little things, usually: remembered laughter, the face of a sleeping child, a tree in the wind—in fact, any reminder of something deeply felt or dearly loved."

There have been many other days when God has brought me peace with little, but important, treasures during the midst of a dark mood. But I've found that it's up to me to recognize them, and to not let them float away before whispering, "Thanks." Otherwise, I'll have turned away a precious gift.

As Gordon says, "No man is so poor as not to have many of these small candles. When they are lighted, darkness goes away . . . and a touch of wonder remains."


Notes from the Coach:
Who despises the day of small things?

Zechariah 4:10, NIV

Four Small Wonders
There are four small creatures, wisest of the wise they are—ants—frail as they are, get plenty of food in for the winter; marmots—vulnerable as they are, manage to arrange for rock-solid homes; locusts—leaderless insects, yet they strip the field like an army regiment; lizards—easy enough to catch, but they sneak past vigilant palace guards.

Proverbs 30:24-28, The Message


Better is a little with the fear of the LORD than great treasure and turmoil with it.

Proverbs 15:16, NASB


Excerpted from Grace for the Race: Meditations for Busy Moms, Copyright © 2004, by Dena J. Dyer. Used by permission.

Dena Dyer is a busy wife, mom, and entertainer and she is constantly losing things—but she’s holding onto her sanity (barely). Her favorite forms of therapy? Cuddling with her two sons, date nights with her hubby, reading, and blogging.

Dena is thankful for her creative life, which is varied and full. In between driving carpools, helping her boys with homework, and shuttling kids to soccer practice, she writes, speaks to women’s groups, and performs part-time at a Christian-owned professional music theater, Rockbox Theater.
Her husband, Carey, works alongside her as a principal cast member at Rockbox Theater. The couple met in a post-college singing group and dated “on the road” before marrying in 1995. “Carey’s my best friend and my biggest fan, and I’m so thankful God has given us each other. I couldn’t pursue my dreams without him,” Dena says. “He even cooks!” (Sorry, ladies—he’s taken.)

Her publishing credits include the books Grace for the Race: Meditations for Busy Moms and Mothers of the Bible (both with Barbour), compilations such as Chicken Soup for the Sister’s Soul Woman’s World and HomeLife, and tips for Working Mother, Family Circle and Parenting.

Great Summer Reads!

Throughout the summer I'll be introducing some GREAT SUMMER READS! These are books that I have stumbled across and thoroughly enjoyed. Some are even written by our very own PEARL GIRLS.



The first book I want to introduce is Breaking Up is Hard to Do by Anne Dayton and May Vanderbilt. (make sure to check out their fun-kitschy website!) As the mother of two teen girls I'm always on the look out for something I think will resonate with them -- something that will make an impact. I found just that in the Miracle Girls series and invited Anne (one of the authors) to stop by the blog and tell us a bit about the book and her heart for writing these types of stories! Leave a comment on this post for your chance to win both books in the series!

Take it away Anne~

Thanks for the chance to share about Breaking Up is Hard to Do! This is the second book in The Miracle Girls series, which is a young adult series about four girls who have survived events that should have killed them. They’re all real live miracles, living out their second chance at life, trying to figure out why God saved them (and trying to make it through high school!).

This book focuses on Christine, who lost her mother in a tragic car accident the summer before freshman year. Christine was in the car when it went off the road, and—miraculously—walked away without a scratch. While she’s trying to deal with the pain and guilt of her mother’s death, Christine is also dealing with her father’s upcoming marriage to his new bimbo girlfriend. She decides she will do whatever it takes to stop the wedding.

Writing Christine’s story was hard in many ways, but mostly because she is going through one horrible year. I have dealt with my share of troubles, but nothing like the tragedy Christine has faced, or the strange adjustments of a new and growing family. My writing partner, May Vanderbilt, and I wanted to really capture Christine’s grief and fear and insecurities, but we wanted to remain hopeful about what the future holds for her.

It helped us to think about the process of turning tragedy into something good. See, Christine is a Pearl Girl at heart (wait, can a fictional character be a Pearl Girl?). Christine is faced with a very bad situation by any stretch of the imagination, and with the help of her friends the Miracle Girls, learns to see the blessings that the pain in her life have created. She would give anything to have her mother back, but through the highs and lows one messed-up year of high school, she begins to see the tragedy as the start of something beautiful.

I hope you’ll share The Miracle Girls books with any young girl looking for a hopeful, faith-centered look at real life. Thanks so much for the chance to share!

Anne Dayton


Anne Dayton and May Vanderbilt are co-authors of several books, including Emily Ever After, The Book of Jane, and The Miracle Girls series. Anne Dayton lives in Brooklyn, New York, and May lives in San Francisco, California.