From the very first moment those little eyes open and we hear them cry for the first time, we love our children. Yes, there are moments that we may get exasperated and frustrated, but we can’t help it—everything about us is conditioned to care for them and love them and protect them. It is, quite...
By Dr. Deb Waterbury Rejection is a difficult thing to reason with. Truly, when we are rejected once, it hurts, and it often takes some time to get past the pain of that rejection. But when those rejections start to pile up, one on top of the other, well, that’s a whole new ball game,...
By: Dr. Deb Waterbury Very recently I was speaking with a pastor who had come to me for counsel on how to bring his dying church back to life. I was somewhat taken aback by his remark at the very beginning of our conversation: “Deb, I value all you have to tell me, but let’s...
I was having lunch with a beautiful young lady the other day, and we were commiserating on our individual inabilities to remember birthdays and holidays. She was telling me of a funny time when her mother had broken a cherished bowl. She found a replacement at the street fair one day in late October and...
Being married is hard. Being a mother is hard. Being in any relationship for any length of time with any person is hard. I mean, let’s face it: We all live this life through a lens focused on self, and self often doesn’t like it when self is being mistreated. Truly this isn’t news to...
Have you ever run all over your house looking for your glasses when they were on your head? How about screaming to the person on your cell phone that you can’t find your phone? A young mother just told me that she couldn’t figure out why her other three children kept looking at her...
My youngest son, Miles, and I have a unique mother/son relationship. We most definitely relate on a familial level, but also he appreciates my counsel. As a minister, much of what I do for women is counsel, but rarely does a parent experience that sort of relationship with her child. Miles, on the other hand,...
Chubby hands clutching the ropes. “Higher! Higher,” she squeals. Only clouds and sun and sweet wind kiss her face. No cares, no worries. And nurturing hands push her upward. More securely now, small hands on the ropes, “Higher! Higher,” she screams. Bows and ribbons and grass and tops of trees; Innocence on her lips,...
