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“When I decided to make conscious choices based on __________________
Using current world events as seen from a Christian worldview by a baby boomer woman, "Boomer Babes Rock!" focusses on concrete ways to encourage midlife women to look at their dreams... the “what if I did this...” or “is it too late to do that...” types of thoughts. Chocked full of online resources, publications, books, and fun Top-Ten lists, Allison provides insight and tools to empower and inspire boomer women to begin the journey to achieve the long-awaited dreams of their heart. Affectionately known as the “God Allows U-Turns Poster Girl,” Allison’s story is one of triumph over tragedy, a true “U-Turn” on the highway of life. Allison is the Founder of multiple businesses, including; "Boomer Babes Rock," "SANITY SUPPORT," and "God Allows U-Turns ®," an international outreach whose cornerstone is the acclaimed true short-story anthology series by the same name. All of Allison's projects fall under the umbrella brand of "Allison Bottke, LLC" and include over 23 non-fiction and fiction books, tracts, logo merchandise, teleseminars, and a growing speaking ministry. Allison’s first novel (A Stitch in Time) in the contemporary boomer-lit genre released in June 2006, her second novel (One Little Secret) released in June 2007 and she has a trilogy of novels for baby boomer women releasing in 2009, 2010 and 2011. Her novels are being called, “Contemporary women’s fiction with an attitude” and all feature baby boomer women as the lead characters. Her newest non-fiction project premiered in February 2008 from Harvest House, titled “SETTING BOUNDARIES WITH YOUR ADULT CHILDREN: SIX STEPS TO HOPE AND HEALING FOR STRUGGLING PARENTS," and is already being heralded as a ground-breaking book whose time has come. The book is available at bookstores everywhere or online. Allison has also developed a Setting Boundaries Companion Study Guide and audio CD series that can be used for individual and/or group study and is only available online at: www.SanitySupport.com A frequent guest on radio and TV programs around the country, the 700 Club featured her life story in what has become one of their highest rated programs. You can view this interview on her main web site. She has been the feature cover story on Writer’s Digest, BOND, The Christian Communicator, O.H. Magazine, and Christian Women Online. Allison speaks at events, retreats and conferences around the country and frequently teaches at writer’s events. Allison has a passion to empower and inspire baby boomer women around the world to achieve the dreams of their heart. You can read more about current and future projects by visiting her web sites. e-mail Allison at: Allison@AllisonBottke.com Visit her Web Sites: Check out her Blog: Visit Allison at Boomer Babes Rock: __________________________________________ Freedom in
Times
This week has been one of “those” weeks. We’ve all had them. Although many good things have happened, there have also been some let downs—blessings mixed in with disappointment—the bitter with the sweet. What did I do to escape the reality of some of it? I went to the movies— a quadruple feature all day on Saturday. But as I emerged from the dark confines of the silver screen after hours of heroes, villains, laughter and tears, my world in the bright light of day hadn’t changed. My husband’s car was still damaged from the accident the night before while we were driving home from church. And, my only son was still facing four years in prison from the final sentencing decision earlier in the week. I was still a mom who was going to have another painful Mother’s Day. My point in sharing this with you isn’t for pity but to impart that in the midst of disappointing times we can have freedom to enjoy, escape, embrace good friends, and encourage ourselves in the Lord. Life isn’t always going to be pleasant. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of that basic fact. 1 Samuel 30 tells a story about King David. He and his mighty men had been off away from camp fighting. While they were gone the Amalekites had come to their town of Ziklag. They destroyed everything and took their women and children. In verse 18, it says, “David was greatly distressed because the men were talking of stoning him; each one was bitter in spirit because of his sons and daughters.” Ever been there? As the stoner or the stonee? It continues on in the same verse, “But David found strength in the LORD his God.” In other Word translations it says, “he encouraged himself in the Lord.” Even in the midst of discouragement, facing stoning, and the loss of his family – he ENCOURAGED himself. He remembered the times before when God had pulled him through. One of my friends chuckles at me, and I think I’m wearing off on her, because I’m often whistling a tune, or breaking out in dance when I hear music. I do it often without thinking, and many times I do this to encourage myself, to keep myself upbeat and positive. I also am careful about not using negative words about myself or others. I surround myself with others who are upbeat, cheerful and positive. I’ve made conscious choices to see the glass always as half full. I’ve spoken with my son a couple of times since his sentencing. While the outcome wasn’t what we had been praying for, he has been upbeat and is encouraged because the sentence could have been much longer and also because he can move on to the next stage. He’s accepting the consequences of his actions and is trying to make the best of the present and future situation. I’m proud of how far he’s come in his journey of accountability. I know God has a plan for him. More important, so does he. He has found freedom in a disappointing time. And the accident we had in my husband’s car? We were blessed that no one was injured and my dear hubby was able to temporarily repair the damage himself until the insurance issues are settled. We were encouraged and grateful. What are you dealing with now or facing in the future? Does it seem insurmountable? If so, find a nice quiet place, and reflect on what God has already brought you through in the past. Look for the good in where you are now. Find a scripture, a song, or a poem, something that encourages you. Read it daily, hourly, every minute if necessary—whatever it takes to help you take another step forward. Surround yourself with positive people. People who will support and encourage you. Being around supportive people is a key element in staying positive in times of disappointment. That’s why the “A” in the Six Steps to SANITY as outlined in my newest book, Setting Boundaries with Your Adult Children, is to “Assemble a Support Group.” Sometimes, we need people around to give us strength when ours is waning. As you approach this Mother’s Day season I encourage you to lift up your voice in praise and thanksgiving—no matter the disappointments or pain. We have a choice. We always have a choice. “Choose this day whom you will serve. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” ©2008, Allison Bottke Available now from Harvest House Publishers
__________________________________________ Freedom to We recently had a few inches of snow here in the Dallas area, reminding us that winter is not quite over and yet spring is knocking at the door. The “snow” came and went in a matter of a few hours, very unlike the Spring is beginning to bud in the gardens around my neighborhood and I’m thinking of all the things this new season brings. What comes immediately to my mind are change and new beginnings. Some changes are brought about by the seasons of life, some we embrace and can’t wait to start, others are consequences to previous events, and some cause us to go kicking and screaming our way through them…hopefully with a big dose of prayer along the way too. Regardless of what we want, or don’t want, change happens (sounds like a bumper sticker) every second of every minute of every hour of every day. A major change will soon be happening in the life of my only child and in my life as a mother as well. By the time you read this, we will know the outcome from his April 1 sentencing hearing. He is currently in jail in Minnesota. We have no idea what lies ahead for Chris as he experiences change and begins a new season of his life. I’m anxious to know what the decision will be and yet I’m unsure that I’m ready for what that might mean for my only child. Good or bad, he is experiencing the consequences of his actions and after April 1 his life will change from months of sitting in a county jail to either spending years in a state prison (Stillwater) or serving his time while attending the Teen Challenge program. Have you ever experienced a new beginning or change and because you didn’t know what was ahead, you became a very unwilling participant? You felt pulled in two different directions – to stay where you were or to move forward? In Windows of the Soul: Experiencing God in New Ways, Ken Gire describes a picture by Norman Rockwell, titled Girl in the Mirror. “There is something about this girl, this girl whose arms are held close and whose hands are curled inward like the petals of a flower. She is somewhere between bud and blossom.” He goes on to relate this image with how we face change, or as he calls them, thresholds. We go from threshold to threshold with something pulling us forward and something pulling us back. We sit in front of the mirror, tentative, hesitant, and unsure. How does God feel about us when He sees us at one of those thresholds, sitting in front of one of those mirrors? What is He wanting to tell us at those very insecure, very fearful times? “Grow up. Get a grip. Get up and get on with your life.” Is that what He is wanting to say? Or is He waiting to sit beside us, put an arm around our waist, and tell us a story of the thresholds His own son had to step across, at Bethlehem, at the Jordan River, and at Gethsemane? Times when His son also felt something pulling Him forward and something pulling Him back. Times when He also was tentative, unsure and yes, even afraid. I have had many thresholds in my life and there will no doubt be many more to come. I’m thankful that with each one, regardless of whether they are easy or difficult, God is there to give me the strength to walk across that threshold and experience what lies ahead. I’m not sure that I’m ready to embrace the unknown change for Chris. I do know that I can embrace the truth and hope from my heavenly father when he says in Isaiah 43:19, “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” Are you sitting at one of those thresholds, not sure which way you want to go? If so, please say this prayer with me: Dear Heavenly Father, Please empower me to be strong as I start making the changes that are necessary in my life. Please give me the courage to see that You can do a new thing in my life. I open the desert of my heart so that your healing streams can flow through me. Thank you for giving Your Son as a sacrifice for my sins, that I might not die but have eternal life with You. Fill me with Your love and the power of the Holy Spirit. In Jesus’ name, Amen. ©2008, Allison Bottke Available now from Harvest House Publishers
__________________________________________ Freedom to Let Go
As we approach the Passover and Easter season, my thoughts as a mother turn toward another mother from two thousand years ago. A lady who lived in Nazareth, whose name was Mary. This mother stood at the foot of the cross watching her first born son, Jesus Christ, take on the sin of all mankind and take his final breath. Oh how her heart must have broken. I have often wondered at what moment had she totally yielded her will as a mom over to God? Was it when Jesus was learning to walk and fell, or when he sat in the temple with the scholars, or when he fed five thousand from a few fish and loaves of bread? How she must have wanted to reach him as the crowds spat on him, the guards beat him and then hung him on a cross. Through the years as she watched Jesus grow up and become independent from her care, did she have to continually remind herself that God is in control and that it’s only when she let go and let God handle things that true healing and hope can come from the ashes of despair? The mistake many of us make in hanging on tightly to the reins of our lives – or the lives of others. True growth requires letting go. True healing begins when we make the head-heart connection that we must “let go and let God” concerning all things, not just painful situations concerning our adult children. This kind of surrender doesn’t mean we are giving up, that we no longer care what happens to our adult children. On the contrary, it means we relinquish their care to a far greater and infinitely more powerful Caregiver. It means at last that we have come to the end of our own selfishness and can now see the possibilities available when we step out of the way of spiritual progress. When the “letting go” part has been accomplished in our hearts and the “letting God” part becomes the focus of our lives, something amazing begins to happen: we feel free. We may not even realize how binding a prison our fears concerning our adult children had become until those fears are gone. Yielding to God may be something you do well – time and time again – and then if you are like most of us, you just as quickly “unyield” without even realizing. Mary could have protected Jesus. She could have forbid him to go to the garden of Gethsemane... but she knew he had to fulfill his own destiny. We have to let our children experience pain and suffering to let them become the people God wants them to be - sometimes we have to let them choose their own course. ©2008, Allison Bottke Available now from Harvest House Publishers: For more information visit: www.SanitySupport.com
__________________________________________ Freedom to Choose
Reality…I remember when my son, Christopher, was in elementary school and would make those construction paper hearts with a sweet message and his name scrawled in big letters inside. I still have one nestled in tissue paper in my memory box, close to the cotton-ball Santa Claus fashioned on a paper towel roll. Now, 30+ years later, he is locked behind cold steel bars awaiting trial. It may be years before I can wrap him in a loving embrace. Valentine’s Day doesn’t hold the same sweet, warm feelings that it once did. I’m sure there are other moms reading this column who can relate to this—moms who have an adult child who may be breaking their heart rather than filling it with warm fuzzy feelings. But Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be a day we would just rather move beyond. It doesn’t have to be a reminder of what once was and what might never be again. Although the choices our adult children make may break our heart - the fact is that God's love is healing. This may sound amazingly simple—and in fact it is. Simple yet oh so difficult to grasp at times. When we make the decision to stop living their life of drama and hand our adult child over to God and allow him to begin healing our own broken heart, this is when real hope and healing can begin - for us as parents as well as perhaps for the adult child as well. It’s easy for us to fall into habits that are controlled by our sinful, worldly nature. Habits such as dwelling on the sadness, thinking about all of the “what if I had done this,” or “if only I had done that” feelings. What purpose does dwelling on the negative stuff of life serve? Don’t we have a choice how we think? Is someone else inside our brain making us think, feel, or behave a way contrary to what we’d like? Not likely. The sub-title for the God Allows U-Turns book series is this: “The choices we make change the story of our life.” Another amazingly simple concept—and yet all too often ignored. Take heed, dear reader, we do have choices. Lots of them. We have a choice how we will respond to situations and circumstances and yes, even to holidays. We have a choice to walk the talk of a Christian—to make our faith more than a Sunday sermon or a passage from Scripture. We have a choice to see that proverbial glass as half full—not half empty. We have a choice who we will serve…God or the never-ending list of reasons and excuses for why our life is such a mess. God loves us. He loves us so much that he gave his only son to die for us on the cross at Calvary. He is in control and he has a plan for our life and for the life of everyone we love. This Valentines Day I can choose to make everyone around me miserable because my heart aches for my son. Or, I can choose to walk in the light of the Lord who loves me just as I am—who loves me in spite of who I am—and who loves me because of who I am. Yes, my only son is in jail. Yes, this breaks my heart. However, I have a choice to make. Will I dwell on the pain? Will I cast a shadow of remorse on everyone around me—sharing my anguish so everyone in my sphere can feel the pain? It’s my choice. Yes, my only son is in jail. Is it mere happenstance that this is also the month my newest book releases—my book on setting boundaries with adult children? As a baby boomer mother, grandmother, friend, and wife—I pray daily to better understand how vital my choices are not only to my own happiness but to the happiness of those around me. How am I choosing to live? Along with having a son in jail, I also have dear friends and family who care about me. I have business success on the horizon that I have dreamed about for years. I have a loving God who continues to open doors as I remain focused on him. I have a faith that grows stronger with every day. And I have a loving husband at home who will do his best to make this Valentines Day a special day. And, I fully intend to let him. It’s my choice. “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” ©2008, Allison Bottke Releasing in February from Harvest House Publishers: Setting Boundaries with Your Adult Children - __________________________________________ Setting Boundaries: At this time of year, we often pause to reflect on the past and speculate on the future. I was doing just that recently as I was pondering the theme for my entire Boomer Babes Rock outreach, a ministry that includes books, speaking, a web site, blog, and this CWO monthly column. I was thinking and praying about the coming year and in doing so I kept being drawn to the theme of Freedom. I reviewed my past CWO columns and I found this paragraph that I’d written for the April 2007 CWO column: “At a time in life when we [boomer babes] should be experiencing the empty nest, rediscovering our spouse, taking new adventures, and pursuing the dreams of our heart—many of us find ourselves in painful bondage to dysfunctional adult children whose choices include drugs, alcohol, gambling, crime, financial ruin, and a host of other negative circumstances too heinous to mention.”
Maybe you don’t have dysfunctional adult children, yet, you still find yourself being bound to something, or someone, that controls you. Maybe it’s negative self-talk, financial problems, or discouragement that you will never reach your dreams. As CWO sisters-in-Christ, freedom means first and foremost what Jesus Christ did for us when he went to the cross. When we confessed our sin, asking Jesus to live in our heart, we experienced the greatest freedom of all—the freedom of forgiveness. The freedom that comes from the unconditional love the Lord bestows upon us. Yet I know that for many of us that ultimate freedom is often overshadowed by worldly things that keep us in bondage. We all have our crosses to bear. For me, that particular cross is often the pain and heartache I experience as a mother. Many of you know from reading my past CWO columns or my Saturday postings on the Boomer Babes Rock Blog, that I have an adult child who is an addict—an adult child I enabled for years. My son is currently in jail in Minnesota awaiting trial. He could be sent to a state penitentiary for a very long time. Over the years I have had to learn the difficult lessons of defining my boundaries as they relate to my son. It’s been a long, difficult and painful journey. Yet I’ve managed to find freedom. I share that journey in my newest book releasing in February from Harvest House Publishers. Setting Boundaries with Your Adult Children – Six Steps to Hope and Healing is the cry of a mother’s heart. I believe freedom starts in our heart. First, we must believe there is hope for freedom. The Bible says, “…Christ in us, the hope of glory.” Yet, so often we forget that we have that hope and we listen to everything except our hearts. Here’s an example I once heard: Think about freedom and all it takes as God being placed in the center of a box. When we choose freedom, we enter this box to be close to God. Then to fully grasp freedom, we must walk toward the center—closer to God. The problem is that most people are afraid, or more willing, to stand as close as possible to the sides of the box. There pressed against the sides, we can hear the outside voices – doubt, discouragement, negative thinking, etc. If instead, we would take just a few steps forward toward the center of the box—toward God—we would hear the voice of encouragement, positive direction, focus, and FREEDOM! For enabling parents like me, it's focusing everything on the needs of our dysfunctional adult children—getting caught up in their crisis lifestyle, bad habits, etc. For others, it's staying with a job they hate. Or for some, it's an addiction to something. The key to true freedom isn't so much focusing on the problem but on the solution—and that starts with trusting in God enough to let him do what he does best—bringing hope and healing—doing miraculous things. The key to freedom is walking closer to the center of the box where God is standing. You might be thinking, “Allison, it’s just not that easy. I’ve tried to break free from XXX for years and it just doesn’t work. I’m still in the middle of a mess.” I know what you mean. I know what that’s like. I still want to rush to my son’s side and bail him out of the trouble he’s in. He’s 36-years-old yet I still want to protect him. But who am I to play God? Could it be that God, in his infinite wisdom, has a far grander plan in store for my son’s life as a result of this journey he is now walking? I pray often for freedom from self blame and condemnation, guilt, anguish and heartache. I struggle against clinging to the sides of the box. I want to accept the challenge for total freedom in 2008. It’s actually something that I do daily as I face the reality that it may be years before I see my son as a free man. I struggled with wanting to move toward the sides of box during the holidays thinking if only I had done this or that, or such and such. However, I truly believe that my son being in jail is just where God wants him for now. I’ve found freedom because I believe God will do a work through him and through this situation. I must move closer toward the center of the box where God is standing, and not remain glued to the sides where the pain from the past keeps me prisoner. I want to challenge my CWO readers to make 2008 a year of freedom from past mistakes, past choices, past drama. I want us to make 2008 a year of Setting Boundaries not only with Adult Children but also for all areas of our lives. Are you ready for freedom in your life? Will you take this journey with me? Then stick around. Together we’ll walk toward the center of that box—toward encouragement, positive direction, and love—toward God in all of His glory. During the next 12 months, I’ll be sharing with you how together we can learn to set those boundaries that allow freedom to grow in our hearts. ©2008, Allison Bottke
__________________________________________ I'm Dreaming of a
Christmas 2007 will mark the beginning of new traditions for my household. Kevin and I will be in Texas with some of his family nearby. Most of our children will be in Minnesota, freezing—poor dears, and starting new traditions of their own. Yes, we will miss them terribly, but this is a new season in our lives and we are praying for joyful hearts in spite of not having our children and grandchildren nearby. I'm sure there are many boomer babes who will also find themselves in a new place this Christmas. A new place LITERALLY, as in geographically, a new place FIGURATIVELY, as in empty nesting for the first time, or perhaps even as a divorced or widowed woman for the first time or maybe as a retired person for the first time. Whatever the change in our life journey, we can rest assured that God will remain the same; yesterday, today and always. I'm looking forward to finding new ways to make new Christmas memories. I hope you are too. Sure, it means some very dear traditions will become cherished memories in our hearts, yet, the new memories to come might just be the best ones yet. May God bless and keep you and yours this Christmas season and always. ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________ Thankful for Pain...
If indeed that is true, many of my fellow Boomer Babes have as many testimonies and ministries as we have grey hairs! During this season of Thanksgiving, there will be no dearth of articles popping up in virtually every print and online publication discussing the topic of “giving thanks.” We’ll be encouraged to give thanks for the many blessings we’ve received…thanks for all the good things we’ve been given. However, I’d like to pose a different angle for our thanksgiving this season. Let’s give thanks for our pain and our troubles. Let’s give thanks for the anguish that has sharpened our senses and made us more sensitive to the pain of others. Let’s give thanks for the years of trial and tribulation that have softened the rough edges of our heart, bringing us wisdom and knowledge and the life-changing realization that God is in control. Let’s give thanks for the tests that have given us amazing testimonies and the messes that have opened the doors for life-transforming ministries. For it is through the tests and messes, through the troubles of life we come to understand the true meaning of God’s love and restoration. Scripture says in Psalm 71:20-21,
Ah…comfort! The blessed assurance that comfort will once again wrap itself around us like grandma’s hand crocheted blanket, enveloping us in all that is warm and safe and familiar. Okay, lest you think someone has kidnapped “the real Allison,” let me stop waxing poetic and say for the record that I find it really hard to give thanks for the messes that frequently spill over into my life. It’s difficult to give thanks when the tests break your heart—making it hard sometimes to even breathe. Yet as Christians we are called to a higher level of understanding why some things happen in our life. It’s about gaining wisdom and knowledge. God wants us not only to wake up and smell the Starbucks, but to learn from our mistakes—to gain wisdom, knowledge and insight from our life journey. Doesn’t it make sense then, to extend thanksgiving to God for the journey he has allowed us to live? No matter how difficult? No matter how painful?
Wow. Doesn’t that make you want to do the right thing? Live a good life? Walk the talk? Sure it does. But that’s easier said than done. Living a life that is pleasing to God is important to me—I know it’s important to you, too. But I continually fall by the wayside and often my good intentions become not-so-good contentions. That’s what having an inherent sinful nature is all about…the inner struggle to do the right thing—in spite of the pain and anguish. That’s why I’ve chosen to spend this thanksgiving season as a time to look at all of my tests and messes, and instead of throwing a pity-party or getting depressed or angry…to give God the glory and thanks for allowing me to experience the pain. For without the pain I would not be where I am today. Without traveling the roads that often brought me to my knees in desperation and exhaustion, I would not have the strength of courage to go another mile—and another—and another. Dear Boomer Babe Sisters, please join me this season by pulling back the dark ugly curtain that has been covering the tests and messes of life we’d just as soon forget. Haul out the dusty boxes in the attic of our mind that are hiding all the garbage of our past mistakes and give God thanks for the experiences—no matter how painful. Focusing not on the anguish—but on the wisdom we have gained as a result of the journey. Scripture says in John 16:33, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." I’m not a theologian—nor am I a learned Bible teacher. I’m just a Boomer Babe striving to make sense of my life in this world—like you. I’d like to think the older I get the wiser I do get, and yet times of trial and tribulation are still difficult to understand and process. I don’t have the answers—but I know who does. I’m just thankful that through it all, one thing remains the same, Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and for ever. On that I can rest. And because of that knowledge—because I trust that God is indeed in control, that he holds me in the palm of his hand, I choose this season to thank him for the journey—to thank him for the pain. To thank him for the tests that have given me a testimony and the messes that have given me a ministry. I invite you to join me. ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________ The Freedom to Change
Autumn brings more than just falling leaves. It brings a cool breeze, vibrant colors and change. It also seems to be the season for moving. I finished packing last month and moved down to Texas where I am now unpacking all the boxes, trying to find room for everything. Some days it seems there are more boxes to unpack than I remember packing. It's quite a challenge having to re-organize and re-think my storage choices when I was so used to the set-up I had. But give me a month or two and hopefully everything will have a place. My sister is in the midst of moving. She’s living in South Carolina and starting a new job while her husband is back in Ohio within weeks/months of retiring and selling their house. T. Suzanne Eller, one of the Boomer Babe Bloggers is also moving. Her recent dilemma was what to keep and what to throw away from her clothes closet. Change. Have you recently downsized and moved to a smaller home? How did you decide what stays and what goes or make more storage where there is none? This next year will be a study in patience and pared back living for me - and I'm happy to say that I'm actually looking forward to what God is going to do in our lives in this new journey. My husband is settling into his new job and has had his first real estate sale (and closing) and he's getting into the flow rather well. I’m looking forward to writing my third novel and releasing my next non-fiction book in February. Change. I am also finding myself at a crossroads, as are many boomer women, regarding my business strategy and plan to shift some projects in order to focus more on those things that are priority – blogging, writing and speaking. Change. With each change, regardless of size or degree, it’s comforting to know that God has ordered our steps. It also brings a certain freedom as we walk out those steps. Freedom to enjoy the journey. Freedom to watch as the change brings new friends, opportunities and yes, even new ways to organize all our stuff. By the way, do we really need all this stuff to survive? I’ve found that as I begin to move with the change, rather than fight it, I am learning to give up other things, such as a dependence on email. It once drove me to endless hours in front of the computer. Now, I’m learning to enjoy the change, albeit self-imposed, to not be a slave to my computer. I’m learning to enjoy the beautiful Texas sunrise and cool evening breeze from my patio. Change doesn’t always come easy. Some changes are sudden and unexpected – the loss of a loved one, a job or a home. Others happen after many years of working and planning to make them come to fruition. Then there are those changes that are just life – wrinkles, bifocals, and menopause. Change. Regardless of the circumstances you currently face, there will be change. With each minute that passes by there is change. The change of seasons often causes us to reflect on the changes in our lives. I’m just thankful that through it all, one thing remains the same - Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever. On that I can rest, be at peace and move forward in the midst of chaos, unpacked boxes, and change. ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________
Moving On
I don’t envy one bit the challenges today’s parents have in getting kids ready for another school year. It seems things weren’t as complicated for parents when boomers were kids. Notebook paper, #2 lead pencils and oilcloth for our desktops were standard fare—unlike the very long supply lists kids have today, bless their hearts. A new school year can be daunting for some and thoroughly exciting for others. It’s a time of change—of growth—of moving up and moving on. From pre-school to “real school,” from one grade to another, from one school to another, and for many who have moved during the summer, from one town to another. This school year I’m experiencing the latter—moving from one town to another—in fact, from one state to another as we leave our home in southern Minnesota for the warm Texas terrain. My husband is a fifth generation Bottke in our Minnesota farm town. He will leave behind memories that stretch back generations. I’ve only been here a short 12 years, yet I already feel the pang of loss for our 25-acre farmstead. We’ll be leasing a home in a Dallas suburb, albeit temporarily, until we decide where to buy our next home. It’s a time of trepidation…and I can’t help but recall the feelings I used to experience in September as a school girl—starting a new year in unfamiliar surroundings, wondering what the new semester would bring. For boomer babes around the country—around the world, in fact, we are facing “new semesters” every year as our environment changes, our body changes, and our outlook on what’s really important changes as well. As kids in school, every new experience is as vital as can be—every challenge is catastrophic—and every molehill is typically a mountain. As boomer babes, we’ve come to learn that choosing our battles wisely is far better than fighting an uphill battle for every little thing. Age has mellowed many of us—to a calmer place where the seasons of change are experienced not with fear and trembling, but with anticipation that God is opening a new door, presenting a new opportunity, and allowing us to grow in grace—if we choose to do so. I’m waxing poetic this season, and I’m obviously no poet, but in thinking and praying about my boomer babe column this month, I found myself less melancholy and far more joyful than one would expect for someone who is facing such a drastic change in the next few weeks. It’s said that moving is one of the top five major stress factors in the life of a person, no matter their age. But I’d like to think for this boomer babe, that experiencing it now is a gift God has given to me—and to my husband. Throughout the Bible are countless stories of people being moved from location to location—often at the great expense of life and love. Yet through all those historic moves God remained faithful in His promises and in His love for his children. As kids all over the country return to school this month, I will pray for them and for their parents. I will also take time to pray for my fellow boomer babes and boomer dudes whose lives are entering a different season of learning. May whatever new journey you face be experienced from a place of joy and thanksgiving—no matter how challenging it may be. “Choose this day whom you will serve.” We serve an awesome God whose plans for us far exceed anything we could possibly imagine. May your fall season be filled with the scent of adventure as this new semester in your life begins. ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________ Bull Attack!
Reaching out to others has two aspects. On one side we have God’s Word encouraging us to reach out and help others, to treat our neighbors as ourselves, to shine God’s love and light into the lives of others whenever possible. But what about the other side? When reaching out to others means asking for help—allowing them to do for us that which we cannot do for ourselves? Or perhaps shouldn’t be doing for ourselves? This kind of reaching out isn’t always easy for me. Nor is it easy for my husband. We’re two mighty independent souls. While that’s okay in some ways, the fact is that God may use us as players in someone else’s drama—and if we try to swoop in and do it all ourselves, we may be denying someone their God-given destiny. We may be keeping another from learning the lesson God wants them to learn. In the big scheme of things, it’s a give-and-take world. Sometimes we’re strong and other times we’re weak. Sometimes God wants us to give, and other times He wants us to learn how to receive. This months CWO theme is Reaching Out to Others. There was a season in my life, and in the life of my husband, Kevin, when reaching out to others took on a meaning that changed our lives. It was a time when God stepped in and completely took care of us—sending countless people into our paths who reached out to us. People who willingly shared their gifts with us to keep us sustained. Gifts of knowledge, time, money, expertise, graciousness, mercy, love, and prayer. God often has a way of orchestrating events that move us from our comfort zones. It was during this difficult time we learned how to humbly reach out to others—in many cases allowing people to live out their destiny—to follow God’s call placed on their heart. Bull Attack! “Allison, call me on my cell phone when you get in. It’s important,” was the message I retrieved from my hotel voice mail at 7:30 p.m. on October 3, 1998. While my stepson’s voice was calm, I knew in my heart something terrible had happened—he never called me when I was out of town. My mind raced as I returned his call, imagining all sorts of life and death scenarios, knowing for certain whatever had happened involved my husband of only three years. “Dad’s been in an accident. Aaron sort of got him,” came Kermit’s reply to my “what’s wrong” question. (Yes, my stepson’s name is Kermit, after his grandfather—it’s a strong German name.) “Aaron?” It took a minute for my mind to compute that he was referring to our fifteen hundred pound Hereford herd bull. “Define ‘sort of got him,” I cried. “Is he dead?” Cutting right to the chase is my nature; I had to know the truth. “No,” came his tentative reply. “But they’re taking him in to surgery right now. He’s beat up pretty bad. He might lose his leg. He wasn’t gored as far as they can see, but it’s too soon to tell. Can you come home?” Thus began my trek from Ohio to Minnesota via car as I couldn’t get a flight until the next morning and time was too precious to wait. So, too, began the amazing story of people reaching out to help us—as one after another, God placed his children into our lives to do for us that which we could not do for ourselves. “Dear God,” I cried out, “please keep Kevin safe, please be with the doctors and give them wisdom to make the right choices” I prayed as I frantically drove home. “Please spare my husband. I can’t lose him now, not when we’ve only just begun our life together.” I learned more about what happened as I drove. Kevin had been working on our farm that day, building a corral with Kermit and Matt, our hired hand. They had put in a rather long day when Kermit was finishing up on the skid-loader, Matt was moving hay bales on the tractor and Kevin was in the farmyard working around the cows. Growing up on a farm, Kevin had always exhibited a healthy respect for our bull, teaching me never to turn my back on him. That day, and it’s hard to say why it happened, Aaron suddenly and without warning came after Kevin, and with the powerful butt of his head, sent my husband flying into the air. In no time he had Kevin back on the ground, rolling him, stepping on him and pounding him into the dirt. Hearing nothing over the sounds of the tractor and the skid-loader, it was by the grace of God that Matt looked up just as Kevin was flying through the air, and he frantically began waving to Kermit who was closer to the situation. “I looked up and saw Aaron on top of Dad, bashing him into the concrete base of the corn silo,” Kermit said, fighting back tears as he explained to me what happened. “He kept butting him with his head. Dad was rolled up in a ball and I thought for sure he was dead.” Thinking quickly, Kermit remained on the skid-loader and as fast as he could, he drove straight into the side of the raging bull, knocking him off his feet and away from his now silent father. That life-saving act was the first of a series of life-saving acts surrounding this drama. “By the time the bull had me down the second time I knew I was a dead man,” said Kevin weeks later. “I can clearly remember being thankful that I knew Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I was prepared to go to Heaven.” “By the time I got to Dad, he was pretty beat up, but I thanked God when I could see that he was still alive,” Kermit said. “But he was covered in blood and his left leg was at an impossible angle. I knew it was broken. I couldn’t tell if Aaron’s massive horns had punctured him. My immediate concern was to keep the bull away from him and try to keep Dad as quiet as possible until the ambulance could arrive.” “Most bull attacks are fatal, and I figured this would be such a case,” admitted Mike David, paramedic and Kevin’s long-time acquaintance. “When we got the call, my heart jumped to my throat, knowing Kevin as I did.” But the Lord did not call Kevin home. Instead He sent us both on a journey of hope and healing that changed our lives. Our local hospital was ill-equipped to handle this type of trauma, and Kevin was rushed to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester with a pulverized tibia, fractured fibula, facial lacerations, and head-to-toe bruises. The surgical team was soon faced with a severe “compartment syndrome” in his leg as they prepared to operate--a syndrome that causes intense swelling, often resulting in the need to amputate limbs as a result of dead muscle, tissue and nerves. Had the team not caught this in time, quickly slicing his leg open on each side from knee to ankle, he would have lost his limb. “I had never seen an injury quite like it,” said Dr. Brian Hamline, the attending orthopedic surgeon on call that night. “In any other hospital, especially in a small town, his leg most likely would have been amputated, but at Mayo we had a team of highly skilled surgeons, all focused on doing whatever it took to save that leg.” And save it they did. From the moment Kermit rescued his father from the raging bull, to the skilled paramedic team on call that afternoon, to the team of orthopedic surgeons with amazing skills, to the prayer warriors who kept me safe on the road as I drove that night—everywhere we looked people were reaching out, and it didn’t stop there. Thus began the year long siege of my sweet husband, a man whose last stay in a hospital had been when he entered the world in 1954. Kevin learned what it meant to reach out from a different perspective, as did I. After three weeks and five surgeries, including multiple bone and skin grafts, Kevin left St. Mary’s – Mayo Medical Center wearing an external fixator – a bizarre looking contraption that consisted of three metal halos (that looked somewhat like black iron horse shoes) and twelve pins going through his bones from his ankle to his knee. He would wear this equipment for twelve long months, unable to bear any weight whatsoever on that leg for nine of those months. A walker, then crutches, assisted him for one full year. Kevin learned what it meant to put his life first into the hands of God, and then into the hands of countless individuals as they reached out to help him—to help us. Through it all I witnessed the perseverance of an optimist whose eyes were on the Lord. Seldom did Kevin cry out when I know the pain was intolerable. He was a most gracious patient and I reveled in the ability to care for him as my nurturing nature took over, trying to make my husband’s recuperation and rehabilitation as comfortable as humanly possible. I frequently cried out to God asking for His will to be done, asking for guidance when my nerves were frayed, and thanking Him for the ability to stay at home full-time to care for Kevin. This was a time of great change in our lives. Kevin temporarily turned over the reigns of his hugely successful real estate business to a co-worker, and in between caring for Kevin, I began to write again, something I had put on the back burner when we married in 1995. We rescheduled our winter vacation for the next year, giving Kevin a goal to work toward as he vowed to “leave these darn crutches behind.” We ushered in the new millennium on the beach at South Padre Island, Texas. It was on that beach in Texas fourteen months after the accident that we praised the Lord for saving Kevin’s life and his leg, and for sending so many people into our lives who willingly reached out to help us heal. Crutches gone, we held hands as he walked slowly with the aid of only a cane, sharing our dreams and visions for our future. Kevin decided to start his own real estate company and venture out on his own, away from the constraints of corporate America. I would dust off my memoir, appropriately called God Allows U-Turns, and after another revision would begin once again to look for a publisher—an exercise that had proven fruitless years before. “It seems everyone has a story to tell,” I shared with Kevin as we walked on the beach. The year we spent in and out of the hospital, doctors’ offices and in physical therapy brought us countless stories from folks whose lives had been spared by God’s amazing grace. We were often in awe at how willing people were to reach out and share their deeply personal stories of hope and healing. “Perhaps this book is bigger than just my story,” I told Kevin. “Maybe I should make God Allows U-Turns a compilation series. If I asked, do you think people would send me their stories of how God works in life?” The rest, as they say, is history. From out of the ashes of pain came Kevin’s vision to venture out of the corporate box and into the world of entrepreneurialism. His leg still bears the scars of multiple surgeries and skin grafts, but he walks unaided without a limp—most of the time. He’s come to understand that Reaching Out to Others is a two way street. That we must learn to graciously accept help as well as be willing to extend it. And as for me? Well, my passion to share the hope and healing of turning toward Christ has become a growing outreach ministry through God Allows U-Turns. Thousands of stories come to me via my Web site each month during open submissions. Today, there are 22 books under the recognized God Allows U-Turns brand, including my first two novels. It took a life-threatening accident to make us reassess our lives. To help us turn our hearts and minds toward the God who held us up when we were too weak to walk. And just think, it really was a bull that helped us hit the bull’s-eye in knowing and following God’s will for our lives. Imagine that. ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________ Lord Send Me a Linda!
The theme of this month’s CWO issue is Family. In thinking and praying about this topic, I kept coming back to the fact that for me, the word family most often means—friends. I grew up in a very small family. My parents divorced when I was quite young and Mom never remarried. We had no aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents on my mom’s side, and most of my father’s relatives became non-existent to us when my parents divorced. Later, when Grandma and Grandpa Gappa passed away, there was no one left but mom, my older sister and younger brother. Mom went to be with the Lord a few years ago, leaving the three of us comprising the nucleus of our original family. That’s it—three of us. We each have our own families now, and we get together whenever possible. Like many baby boomers, we’re getting closer the older we get (funny how that works for some of us, eh?) But also like many mobile families of this century, we all live in different states. That’s why for me, the term family has for many years included my closest friends. For me, my friends are my family. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. That’s why I’d like to share a story with you now about my Family of Linda’s. Lord, Send Me a Linda! Next-door to our rented house on West 105th Street, was Linda S. and across the alley behind our house was Linda B., my very best friends growing up—more like sisters than friends. For over a decade we did everything together. We played dress-up together, went to school together, my mom took us on outings together. We had countless sleep-overs where we talked about our dreams and shared our secrets. We smoked our first cigarettes together, turning green in equal measure. We grew up and parted, but their friendships were cornerstones of my life. Over the years, any time I met someone named Linda, I felt a warm glow in my heart. Decades later in Arizona as a new Christian, it was another Linda B., hundreds of miles from my Ohio hometown, who befriended me and showed through her example what a woman of God was like. We were as close as two sisters could be. I was 35 and hadn’t lived near my own sister for many years. My Linda, as I came to call her, showed me as a new Christian what it truly meant to have a “sister-in-Christ.” She was my family—as were many of the new people who came into my life when I took a major u-turn and joined the Family of God. When I met my husband a few years later in a long-distance whirlwind courtship it was bittersweet. We both felt that God had orchestrated our union, yet it meant moving from my home in Arizona to Minnesota. I was leaving the only Christian family I had ever known. I was leaving My Linda behind – and the pain in my heart and soul was deep. “Lord,” I cried. “Please, please send me someone like Linda,” I prayed as I began another chapter in my life in my new Minnesota home. I was turning forty, and lonely for a sisterhood friendship like the one I had left behind in Arizona. “Hello, welcome to our church, how are you?” a lovely woman warmly greeted us as we entered. Praying for a church home to call our own, my new husband and I walked into the small neighborhood church not yet knowing God’s plan for us. With a glowing smile that matched her spirit, I breathed deeply and held onto her a little tighter as we shook hands in greeting when she said, “Hi! My name is Linda, what’s yours?” Today, over ten years later, Linda L. is more than a friend—a true sister-in-Christ, she is family. God answered my prayer. He sent me a Linda and I send him my thanksgiving daily for the friendships He orchestrates when we open our hearts to Him. My husband and I have been mumbling for years about leaving Minnesota to relocate to Texas. The older our boomer body’s get, the colder the winters seem to become. As I think about starting over in another state in this, my fifth decade of life, I wonder what surprises the Lord will have in store for us. Surely, He can once again send me a Linda, don’t you think? I’ll keep you informed. Until next month, God be with you and your family. :) ©2007, Allison Bottke __________________________________________ Memories I’m currently reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, the bestselling author of Traveling Mercies. Subtitled, Some Instructions on Writing and Life, it’s turning out to be far more about the latter than the former. As a writer, I’m always reading books that will help me fine tune my craft, especially since I consider myself sorely lacking in the craft department. I figured Lamott’s book would be a An exercise that can be both poignant and painful. An exercise I’d like to challenge you to take. For example, when was the last time you thought about your school lunches? And if you stop now to think about school lunches, how can that be of any benefit whatsoever to writing or life? Or what about the books you read as a kid? Think really hard about the first book you can recall reading…come on, you can do it. Those two exercises had me writing pages and pages of thoughts and dialogue. In fact, I’m certain a short story will be birthed from the exercise. And how about Polaroid photos? Remember how fascinated we were when we watched the yucky grey-green color turn into a photo before our very eyes? Today, we can download and send entire photo scrapbooks via email and think nothing of it—but for many of us the simple act of watching a Polaroid photo develop brought amazement and awe. Those were the days. Or…were they? As I sat back in my chair reading, I frequently found myself putting down Lamott’s book and thinking about the questions she asked. Not just ‘thinking,’ but seriously searching long-forgotten places in my memory. Soon, my brain felt taxed…as though I’d done about one hundred sit-ups (considering I’d probably pass out and die after six sit-ups, this is saying a lot.) It wasn’t easy to conjure up those grade school memories but once accomplished, they began to flood my consciousness like an exploded water balloon…once the water bursts forth, there’s no putting it back. I pulled out a notebook and began writing down random thoughts that came across my brain like ticker tape on a stock market message board. The random thoughts became paragraphs and then short stories. I remembered placing orders from Scholastic Books when the book lady came to our class, and then searched back further for what books I’d ordered. I remembered writing my first love letter to Kenny somebody, I’m sure he had a last name but for the life of me I couldn’t recall that tidbit. I did, however, recall how he’d posted my letter on the fence of Cameron playground on West 105th Street in Cleveland where I felt both horror and elation. Horror because others would know how I felt about young Mr. No Last Name, and elation when folks commented on how much fun it was to read my letter. They thought it was a story. A writer was born. This focused memory search was a fun exercise—a series of exercises, actually, and while some of the memories were a bit painful, mostly I found myself thanking God for the ability to recall them, and for the lessons I had eventually learned because of them. As a boomer babe it’s no secret that I’m getting older. But it’s what we do with the knowledge we’ve learned that counts. It’s what we do with the blessings the good Lord has given us that really matters. Like the subtitle reads for the God Allows U-Turns book series, “It’s the choices we make that change the story of our life.” “Choose this day whom you will serve,” Scripture teaches us. Long story short…we are the sum total of the experiences we’ve had and the choices we’ve made. And sometimes it’s good to sit back and think about those long forgotten memories like school lunches, first books, old love letters, and the experiences that have made us who we are today. And sometimes it’s good to share those memories by writing down our stories. As “rockin’ boomer babes,” let’s record our precious memories before they’re forever lost. Eva Marie Everson is one of our boomer babe co-bloggers. She’s a master at sharing her memory stories. Hope you enjoy this one. Until next month, here’s to memories…write yours down soon. IS SHE THE MOTHER OR THE DAUGHTER? Do you remember the commercial for Ivory face soap? I do. It ran in the late 60s early 70s and boasted a lineup of young women, their mothers, and enough show and glow to make us all run out and buy the bar that’s 99.44% pure. I’ve always taken good care of my skin. My entire body I may have abused (you know, with chocolate, coffee, a lack of exercise when I needed it most) but my skin… I come from a long line of women who have always done so. “Take care of your skin when you are young,” my mother used to say, “and you’ll have beautiful skin the rest of your life.” She should know; in her 70s, she has the skin of a woman years younger. So, here’s the rest of my story (you were wondering, no?): I’m on an airplane not too long ago. Airplanes, let me just give you a clue, are not good for your skin. If you looked young when you boarded, you most assuredly will not when you deplane. So, I’m sitting on the plane, exit row so I have plenty of leg room, between two men who promise me if the plane goes down, they can and will open the 50 pound door to our left. I pull out my Bible and open the well-worn pages. A photo marks the spot I want to read from. It is a photo of my granddaughter and me, taken about four years ago. The man to my right–a brave soul–points to the photo and says, “Is that your daughter?” I turn to him and beam. “No,” I say. “That’s my granddaughter.” He furrows his brow. He is clearly confused. Then he shakes his head and says, “No…not her” (pointing to the image of my granddaughter)…”HER!” (pointing to the image of me). I blink several times. When my wits are finally back with me, I say, “Noooooo… that’s me.” He blinks several times. By this point, we can have our own blinking competition, go down in the Guinness Book of World Records for blinking, for crying out loud. “It must have been taken a long time ago,” he continues. He dares open his mouth again. “Wow.” Then he smiles. “You sure have changed.” I nod, turning my head toward the man on my left, who is pretending to be asleep. Shaking his head he mouths, “Dumb, dumb, dumb….” while I’m thinking, “You open that door…and I’ll shove him out of it.” The last few years of my life have been more than difficult and the results have been that I look older than I should or even want to. Some days I look in the mirror and I think, “WHO are you???” The joys of being a boomer babe is that we're also a part of that generation that has all the means of staying younger looking and no way to actually stay young. Short of death. We look at the photos of younger girls and women and think, “I used to look like that…no wrinkles…no sagging…no little laugh lines….” Yeah, and you used to have zits, too. Ahem. Still do sometimes. But, that’s another story…for another week. Now, it’s time for my facial…. ©2007, Allison Bottke
__________________________________________ When a Mother's “The greatest level of wisdom man can hope to attain is the realization of how little he knows.”
There will be no lack of reminders as Mother’s Day approaches. Television commercials will encourage us to buy Mom the latest “whatever.” Banners will hang in store windows from the east to west coast. Restaurants will offer elaborate champagne brunches in honor of Mother’s Day. Everywhere we look will be reminders of a special day set aside to honor the women who shaped our lives as daughters. I used to enjoy this day when my mom was alive and I could do something special for her that would make her smile…and cry…and know how much she meant to me. I used to enjoy this day when my son was a little boy and he would greet me all wide-eyed and excited with his hand-made craft from school, declaring, “I love you, mommy!” Today, my mother is in heaven and my adult son lives in a world estranged from me and all I hold dear. For me, and countless other boomer women around the world, Mother’s Day is a painful reminder of what we don’t have. It’s a day where some of us don’t want to go to church and get that corsage or be singled out. It’s a day for others. Yet in His infinite wisdom, God has a plan for those of us with aching hearts. I’d like to share a story of hope and healing with you from my book; “God Answers Mom’s Prayers.” May it minister to you as it has ministered to me. A SPIRITUAL MOM
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CWO Cover
Bonnie 
snow I’d been accustomed to seeing in March and early April while living in Minnesota. 
Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. A day filled with laughter and love. It’s a day when starry-eyed lovers gaze deeply into each other’s soul. It’s a day, or maybe a memory, when youngsters make big red construction paper hearts covered in glitter and can’t wait to take them to their mothers after school. A day with Cupids, and candy, and….wait, Allison, it’s time for a reality check. 
Right then I decided that 2008 should be a year of freedom from bondage and freedom to be all God intends us to be.
This year, I'm hoping that “I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas” will be just that...a dream. I hope to awaken on Christmas morning to sunshine, green grass and temperatures considerably above the freezing mark. I'm looking forward to my first Christmas in our new home deep in the heart of Texas. For the first year in more than a decade, we won't be in the frozen tundra of Minnesota for the holidays. While some folks make plans to travel to the snow regions, not me—at least not this year. This year I'm already planning where to park my lawn chair as we enjoy the warm sunshine on Christmas afternoon.
My friend Michelle says, “Every test is a testimony and every mess is a ministry.”
School days, school days, dear old golden rule days…wow, does that tune ever bring back memories! As parents around the country 
good resource. Little did I know that her memory exercises would not only spur me on to be a better writer, but would pull from the moth balls of my mind memories I’d long forgotten.
This is the story of Easter—the story of a love so strong it changed the course of history.
