Love & Rewards

Triple Chocolate Cake

2012-01-24T22:40:00.001-05:00

So, this is not a recipe blog. I do not think of myself as the Pioneer Woman (where does that woman find all that time anyway - homeschooling, cooking, blogging, ranching, writing books, giving interviews, photographing every second of her life, & now a food show? Seriously...but that's a whole other blog post better left alone!).

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to post a recipe or two up here once in a while (I'd say once a week, but other than marriage, I'm not very good at keeping commitments). This brilliant idea occurred to me as I was making a cake for someone this afternoon. I figured, easy recipe, doesn't take long...what better one to post?

Did you know it takes twice as long to put together the easiest cake in the world when you take pictures of each step?

Yeah, well....maybe not every week.

TRIPLE CHOCOLATE CAKE

(one of my family's favorites and a great cake to make when short on time & you want to whip up something yummy. Best part...it can be served warm!)

Ingredients:
1 package chocolate cake mix, 1 package instant chocolate pudding mix, 4 eggs, 1 C sour cream (I eyeball it), 1/2 C oil, 1/2 C warm water, 1/2 - 3/4 bag of chocolate chips.

Procedure:
Dump everything but chips into mixing bowl (I love that I don't have to mess with "this & this, mix. Now, this & this, blah blah blah).

Get a cute helper to turn on the mixer.

Mix at low speed for 1 minute.

I took a picture of the timer, but it was filthy & wouldn't post that. Pride & everything. I'm working on it.

Scrape the bowl & mix at medium speed for 2-3 more minutes.

Add chips & stir until well blended.

Pour the batter into your greased bunt pan.

Allow your helper to lick the beater.

Bake at 350 for 1 hour. Again, I went to take a picture of the oven dial. Amazing how all the dirt & spots show up so clearly on a photo! A bit more real than reality. I think.

Take from oven and allow to cool. Anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes. The 30 minute is preferred, but when in a hurry, do the 5. That's what we did. My husband is the one who turned it upside down onto the plate this evening. That way, I could blame him when some of the cake stuck to the pan. It really doesn't matter, though. It's still delicious and you do the Julia Child trick of just scraping the moist yumminess from the pan & patting it back onto the cake.

Now, you could be done at this point. But, if you REALLY love chocolate, this is kinda fun:

Stick the container in the microwave for 30-45 seconds, stir, and pour on top of the cake.

Oh yeah.

Your family will love you. Your friends will cherish you. Your waistline....don't think about it.

In a nutshell:
1 pkg. chocolate cake mix
1 pkg. instant chocolate pudding mix
4 eggs
1 C sour cream
1/2 C oil
1/2 C warm water
1 1/2 C chocolate chips

Preheat oven at 350 degrees.
Put all ingredients in a mixing bowl. Mix at low speed for 1 min. Scrape bowl. Mix on medium speed 2-3 minutes more. Add chips and stir until blended. Pour into greased bunt pan. Bake for one hour or until tests clean.
Allow to cool. Turn upside down onto plate.
Drizzle warm frosting over top, if desired.

My Week in Pictures - Jan 15-21, 2012

2012-01-22T20:44:00.000-05:00

This week was a great week for the kids & their daddy to play outside. The temperatures were not too cold and there was enough snow on the ground to have fun with.

It was also a week of beginnings and endings. Our girls began piano lessons with a new teacher (they've taken lessons for 4-6 years with another teacher) and Gloria finished Kindergarten!!

So, without further delay: Week 3

Sunday 1/15 - Someone is a little tired & cold from all the snow fun!

Monday 1/16 - No School + Cousins + Snow = a TON of fun!

Tuesday 1/17 - Violin lessons. Usually, 3 of my girls have lessons, but 2 were ill. :(

Wednesday 1/18 - Gloria finished her Kindergarten math officially making her a full-fledged 1st grader!!

Thursday 1/19 - The kids all enjoying Anna's Science web extras (video of side-winding snake & other reptile - yuck!)

Friday 1/20 - Dinner-time devotions. Eric's been reading 2 Chronicles. I don't know why that book gets such a bad rap - we are finding it fascinating!

Saturday 1/21 - My 3 older girls first lesson with their new teacher. They miss their original teacher terribly, but this is an important & good step.

As promised last week, I got more people pictures in here! Very proud of myself - ha ha.

Anything new for you all this week? Would love to hear about it!

Indications That I Need Sleep

2012-01-20T23:43:00.000-05:00

I need to go to bed. Do you know how I know? Well, beside the fact that my eyes are slamming shut as I type?

- I'm critical & cynical about just about everything and everyone. Those things or people that I am not critical or cynical of, I think there are people who criticize them and they have no right to do that. I mean, who do they think they are?

- I'm frustrated with my family. Don't they get it? Don't they care about having a nice house? Can't we all just sit nicely together and read or play games? Don't remind me that I could initiate that.

- I'm frustrated with the fact that people sometimes don't get my humor. Really? It's a joke.

- Why was I taken off of someone's blog roll? What did I do wrong? It's not like I sit here and criticize everyone and complain and throw pity parties. Really.

- Am I really that annoying to others? Do people really not like me? I annoy myself with how much I read into things.

- I have a pile of never ending laundry in the laundry room. I'm contemplating never setting foot back there again.

The list could go on. I'm sure none of you get this way. Now you know me for who I really am - someone who gets irrational when I get tired. I'm sure it's a rare and unprecedented condition.

It's good to know I've learned to not act on these irritations I get late at night. I could lose a lot of friends.

I need sleep, because I'm critical & cynical. Oh, and have I mentioned overly-sarcastic? The good news is, I'll wake up tomorrow and roll my eyes as the absurdity of myself.

*Roll your eyes with me.*

I will also realize how good my life truly is and, once again, ask God to help me focus on what is important. In fact, I'm going to do that now. As I head up to bed.

Good night.

Dreams Change

2012-01-20T00:43:00.002-05:00

About 9 months ago, I stumbled upon a wonderful blog written by the wife of an old student of mine. Ok, so he was in 6th grade when I was substitute teaching his class & he now has a masters degree, a business that he owns & operates, a wife, and two children. Yes, I'm THAT old.

Anyway, I don't do blog recommendations. Nor do I do book recommendations (often). But, there's a first (and possibly only) time for everything.

If you are the parent of a child with Down Syndrome or any special need, know of such a parent, or just want to understand what goes through the mind of a mother as she learns that her baby will not be born "normal"...I highly recommend:

Deanna gives a (sometimes painfully) honest look at the emotions that she felt when she found out that she was carrying a baby with Down Syndrome and how she grew to love her perfect little girl. She is real and that is what makes this book one from which we can truly learn. You will cry with Deanna as she struggles with her fears and feels her dreams crash down around her. You will rejoice with her when she experiences a love she never dreamed of and realizes that God makes no mistakes.

As I just finished this relatively short e-book this evening, I am still thinking on it - but I believe it has opened my eyes and my heart to those who have been granted a truly special child.

Go ahead. Click on the picture & purchase this inexpensive book that will take little time to read, but will change your life invaluably. Let me know if you read it. Better yet, if it blesses you, let Deanna know over at at Everything and Nothing from Essex. While you're there, read her posts. I think you'll like her sincere & often humorous look at life with 2 young children.

10 Farm-Life Myths

2012-01-18T00:50:00.001-05:00

"You live on a farm?! You are soooo lucky!" "I wish I lived on a farm." "What a blessing to be a farm family!" "Your kids probably never get bored."

As a farm family, we have heard comments such as these throughout the last 12 years. As soon as people find out that my husband is a farmer, they instantly conclude the following:

1) I must be busy helping him in the barns & in the field.
2) Our kids help their dad with the farm chores.
3) We have cows & other livestock
4) My husband gets up early and eats a large breakfast
5) There's so much to do. All the time.
6) My husband drives a tractor for hours & days on end
7) We are rich
8) We are poor
9) We want all of our children to become farmers
10) Farm-life is the greatest life there is

On top of all of that, when people find out we have no livestock to speak of, they wonder what my husband "does all winter."

It's interesting to see the dreamy eyes people get when you mention farming to them. They picture pristine, red barns amidst rolling green hills; large, shiny, green equipment; blue skies; and my husband getting up early to eat a huge breakfast before driving his tractor most of the day.

Usually, we smile and whole-heartedly agree that it is a great life, because it is. But we also know that most of these people have very little idea of the reality of farming.

*Note: The following myths pertain to the farm on which we live. This, in no way, covers all family-farms. I do know people who live the "dream" a lot of people have about farming. Our farm just seems to go against the grain (ha ha), to a small extent.*

Myth 1: I must be busy helping my farmer-husband in the barns & in the field.
I laugh.
HA HA!
I often tell people, "Farmer's wife does not mean farmer." There are people who come to the farm regularly for corn, straw, hay, etc. that I have not seen in years because I'm always in the house. And, no, I'm not baking bread or making cheese. I'm usually schooling the children, doing laundry, making grocery lists, making dinner, etc. You know - like the rest of you moms & wives out there. Don't put me on some Ma Ingalls-pedestal. I live a very similar life to most homeschool moms.

Myth 2: Our kids help their dad with the farm chores.
Um, yeah. Given the fact that there have been about 4 grain-auger accidents locally in the past 2-3 months, it should be a given that our type of farming (cash-crop) is not exactly child-safe.
Our oldest is 14 and is old enough to help in some areas, but his back tends to limit him - as does his lack of mechanical skill. He's much more a people-person - so he'll greet you, talk to you, & show you where the hay is, but that's about it. Helpful, sure. But not really the "farm-boy."
Cassia is 12. She tags around with her dad as often as she can during the harvests. She'll get up in the truck when he goes to trade off vehicles. She'll run the remote control to turn the auger on & off (she does this from several feet away from the aforementioned dangerous contraption). But, because of the busyness of the farm, she can only do these things when her daddy is only running at 80 mph rather than 110 mph.
So, no. Our kids are not working alongside dad...at this time.

Myth 3: We have cows & a lot of other livestock.
We have a life; therefore, we obviously do not have cows.
Oh, the disappointment that is evident on people's faces when we burst their animal-lover bubble with the stark reality. Our livestock includes: 1 old horse, about 20 chickens, a dog, and 3 young goats. None of these make money for the farm. They are basically pets for our 12 year old. The chickens do put out quite a few eggs a day (which leads to another myth-buster: No, the kids don't "just love to gather the eggs.").

Myth 4: My husband rises early and eats a large breakfast.

My husband does get up early on most days - about 5:30. But, not because he has "chores." He likes to get out to the barn, drink coffee, read his Bible, and talk to his dad about what they'd like to accomplish that day. As far as a large breakfast, my husband has not been much of a breakfast-eater since the day we got married. And it's a good thing, because I'd fail him miserably if he was. Sad, but true.

Myth 5: There's so much to do. All of the time.
Actually, for the kids and I - we do about as much as every other family. We school, shop, go on field trips, visit, play, read, etc., etc. Eric is busy for much of the spring through fall, but he is able to get a short-notice day off here and there. He is able to relax now and then - albeit, not as regularly as some. In the winter, (to answer the "what do you do in the winter?" question) he works on getting the equipment ready for the coming year, planning what to plant and where to plant it, and other odd jobs. He is usually in the house by 5:30 and is often able to take half-days on Saturday. There IS down time and we enjoy it when we have it. Because, there are times when he works almost 'round the clock.

Myth 6: My husband drives a tractor for hours & days on end.
Truth be told, my husband can probably count on one hand the hours he actually drives a tractor or combine in any given season. Our farm is a 2-man operation that covers about 2,000 acres of land. His father, who is in his late 60s, has earned the right to the air-conditioned tractors & combines while my husband does much of the running - moving trucks back and forth, loading and unloading grain bins and dryers, fixing broken machinery, running to the store for parts, etc. In fact, when the farm bought a new tractor a couple of years ago, the only time my husband got in it was when he gave our children "rides."

Myth 7: We are rich.
In a sense, this is true. If we were to cash in on our land (of which we actually rent more than half of the ground we farm), equipment (little of which is brand new), barns, etc., we might make a bit of money. But, then, my husband would be out of a job. Maybe some big farms make a ton of money, but, for the most part, any money we make goes right back into the farm. My husband often says, "If you farm to make money, you're in the wrong business. You farm because you love it."

Myth 8: We are poor.
Ironically, it is assumed we are on one side of the financial spectrum or the other. Though we do not have wallets (or bank accounts) flooded with money, we are not needy, either. God has supplied all of our needs and has allowed to meet some of the needs of others, as well. Our bills are paid, our home is sturdy, and we indulge in "extras." The farm provides a comfortable way of life, for which we are grateful.

Myth 9: We want all of our children to become farmers.
This was not my father-in-law's dream for his children and it is not our dream for our children. We want our children to do whatever it is GOD wants them to do. We would love to see them in the ministry - whether preaching in a church or serving on the mission field. If it is God's will for some of them to go to college and enter a profession, then we pray that they will glorify Him in that calling. We only want our children to carry on with the farm if that is what GOD wants for them. My husband is grateful for our farm and works hard to make it a success, but he also knows that we may have to walk away from it tomorrow - whether because of finances, natural disaster, or no one to keep it going. And he's ok with that. I think I am, too.

Myth 10: Farm-life is the greatest life there is.
Wait. This isn't really a myth! Living on our farm where our children can actually SEE what their daddy does all day and understand why he can't be home for dinner or see their soccer games is a great way to live. Our children watch the weather and "worry" with us when there's too much or not enough rain. They rejoice when the combine comes in from harvesting the last wheat field of the summer or the last corn field of the fall. We celebrate as a family when daddy finishes his big project - Fall Harvest. We sit down to a special meal and just enjoy the blessings of God. Though my husband is the farmer and we don't "help," the farm is, indeed, OUR life. We cheer on our leader & we enjoy seeing his successes which, in turn, allow us to succeed in many ways.
However, in truth, farm-life is not the greatest life there is. Life in Christ is the greatest. We could live on a perfectly manicured farm and be making tons of money...but without knowing the God who allows the crops to grow and the rain to fall, it would mean nothing. Our joy, the love we have for one another...comes from Christ, not the farm. Yes, the farm allows us a closeness that many families may not be able to enjoy, but it is Christ who binds us together. It is God in whom we trust for our real success and for our future - whatever it may hold.

You're a Christian? You are soooo blessed! I wish everyone was a Christian! God's children never get bored - there's always something to do!

Yes, No, Maybe

2012-01-16T10:16:00.000-05:00

This morning as I was reading a book and drinking my coffee, Zane asked me if we could "throw Quacker" when I was done (a game we played last night with his stuffed duck). The short conversation went as follows:

Zane: When you're done with that, can we throw Quacker?

Me: I don't know.

Zane: Does "I don't know" mean "maybe"?

Me: Yes

Zane: Does "maybe" mean "yes" or "no"?

Me: That, I don't know.

Zane: I hope it means "yes."

I love four year olds! It did remind me of the passage where we need to let our "yay be yay and our nay be nay." I tend not to want to commit to things as schedules change so often that I don't want to let my kids down. But, I guess Zane is one of those who wants a yes or a no. I'll definitely be working on that.

My Week in Pictures - Jan 8 - Jan 14, 2012

2012-01-14T23:24:00.000-05:00

Well, I missed just one day, but most of my photos were done with my iPhone and a couple were done late at night, just to make sure I got my daily photo finished! I was sick much of this week and my head has been in a bit of a fog.

WEEK TWO

Sunday 1/8 - My husband works 6 days a week. He really enjoys ha ring Sundays to relax with the family.

Monday 1/9 - Seems I've been here fairly often lately. Trying to get rid of a persistent ear infection.

Tuesday 1/10 - No photo. The day must not have happened. I have no memory of it.

Wednesday 1/11 - I prayed continuously through the day for the many needs of many friends.

Thursday 1/12 - My husband and oldest 5 children worked throughout the week to complete this puzzle. It was completed Friday morning!

Friday 1/13 - Gloria had her first-ever piano lesson! She is taking from the same teacher as her brother, Seth and is so excited. She'll be having lessons every 2 weeks for now, but her teacher said it won't be long before she's on a weekly basis - if she continues to pick things up as she did Friday morning.

Saturday 1/14 - We finally have had some snow the last couple of days. I would go and take some pictures of it, but that would require me to actually go outside. In the cold. Instead, here's a photo of the much-loved wood stove that keeps us warm!

Next week, I really will attempt to get more photos with actual faces in them! :)

My Week in Pictures - Jan 1 - Jan 7, 2012

2012-01-08T23:29:00.004-05:00

This year, I am going to try do document each week in pictures. I am attempting to take one picture a day to get an idea of the various things that happen in our home and life. Some of the photos are taken with my wonderful Canon Rebel T2i, when I think to go grab it. The others are taken with my iPhone, which I have next to me almost all the time. You use what you got, right? ;)

So, My Week in Pictures - Week One:

Sunday 1/1 - Took all the Christmas cards and made a collage on our refrigerator. Great way to remember our friends and pray for them.

Monday 1/2 - Back to school after 2 weeks off!

Tuesday 1/3 - Older siblings play with & teach younger.

Wednesday 1/4 - Reading some great books!

Thursday 1/5 - Gloria finished "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons"!!! Seeing as the last lesson was ripped out of the book sometime in the last 8 years, she did it in 99! :)

Friday 1/6 - Daddy & the older children completed a puzzle.

Saturday 1/7 - Saturday morning home-made hot chocolate!

This really was a great week. While I was dreading getting back to school, it was probably one of the best weeks we've had all year! I think a large part of our success was because we had no plans outside of school all week. I didn't have to hurry to get things done so we could make our next appointment. It was amazing how a free schedule relieved almost all of my stress. So, while my photos don't show a lot of exciting activities, they speak for how relaxed and normal our week was & I loved it!!

Let me know if you decide to do (or are already doing) a similar weekly photo project on your blog. I'd love to visit!

Our 2011 Christmas Card & Letter

2011-12-27T00:38:00.000-05:00

This Christmas Day, I will look around our front room at the eight other individuals sitting near the decorated tree. They will each be seated in various places waiting for a package to be passed to them or excitedly asking that the gift they bought or made for so-and-so be quickly given. As I look, I will be grateful, once again, for the precious people God has given me the miraculous opportunity to call “family.”

Michael will be seated and hoping for a variety of things from his wish-list. He will most likely say a few words in German, as he has been teaching himself the language throughout this year. He dreams of one day going to Germany and telling the people there of Christ’s love. Throughout the day, Mike will undoubtedly mention something about his first bow hunting season this year or one of his AirSoft games. When he stands, he is taller than me. If there is snow, he may go out in the fresh air and use his cross-country skis or sled on a hill made by the snow his dad plowed. Siblings may join him, but if not, he’s content to enjoy the outdoors alone.

Cassia will be making sure that the gifts she has made for her family members make it into the right hands. Her smile will light up her face as she watches each person open her creations. She will probably make a special trip out to the pasture to wish a Merry Christmas to our old horse, Joy, and to her three young goats. Of course, this is after she has already bestowed at least one gift on her parakeet, Twitter - who, at 6 or 7 months old is beginning to gain a bit of a vocabulary. Cassia will also check on the chicks she incubated, hatched, and cared for this past fall. Truly our animal-lover.

Anna will be hoping for the latest Duggar DVD or a cover for her Kindle. These two items accurately describe her love for children and passion for reading. She will have already given gifts to the 3 children she has become close with hrough being their mother’s “helper” and she will probably have held at least one small baby in church Christmas morning...which will make her day complete. While Anna may be content reading a new book for much of the day, the others may have a tough time keeping up with her energy if and when they all head outside to play.

Katrina will be quietly watching all of the activity and trying not to stress if something doesn’t go exactly as planned. Though she may be thrilled with her gifts, only a smile will flash across her face along with a simple, “thank you.” Her restrained joy comes from her daddy. Anything that will keep her hands busy will make her very happy. She will look for opportunities to play games with family members or spend some time on the piano playing Christmas songs.

Seth...he will be happy if I just go over and give him a hug! One of our most contented children, he hasn’t asked for much this Christmas. He will spend his day eating all the goodies, heading outside for some activity, and being content to spend the day with his family. Whatever Seth does this day, he will throw himself completely into it with his whole being, just as he did when playing soccer this past summer & practicing with his bow and arrow this past fall. He will have fun, and smile most of the time.

Gloria will smile and laugh all day long. She will ooh and ahh over anything pretty. She will beg for someone to read to her and probably show off her new-found reading skills, as well. Gloria will probably look over everyone’s gifts while the sounds of “don’t touch!” will be echoed over and over! At the end of the day, she will kiss her daddy and I, put her arms around our necks, smile, and say something like, “I love you. Merry Christmas. Thank you!”

Zane will be thrilled that the long-awaited favorite day of the year has finally arrived! He will look around with wonder at the commotion. He will talk excitedly and tear into any package that makes it into his hands. Somewhere along the line, he will find mommy’s lap, sit in it, put his fingers in his mouth, and snuggle - his favorite past-time. He will stand up for himself, follow his older siblings, and eat as many sweets as he can until he’s banned from the table!

Eric. He’ll sit back and quietly watch as the mayhem unfolds. He’ll take pictures and free treasures from stubborn tape and wires. He’ll cut up vegetables, cheese, and pepperoni & make sure his faithful dog, Hunter, gets a few of those snacks. He’ll make the punch and serve it. He’ll get out the chess board for a game or two with the kids. He may even break out the ATV and the wagon for a Christmas Day ride around the property. In general, Eric will be the quiet motor that keeps our day humming without it breaking down in a heap.

What will I do this Christmas Day? I will enjoy my family. The family that I so often forget to enjoy, but to whom I often dictate orders, clothe, feed, put to bed, school, etc., etc. This day, I will watch for the gleam in their eyes. I will laugh with them. I will sit in amazement at how quickly time is passing and try to make it slow down...just for a few hours. After the long day has ended, I will sit with my dear husband...the one with whom I walk through this life...and just enjoy the quiet and the simple beauty of the lights. We will sigh and smile at the chaos of the day. We will be a tad sad that another Christmas has passed. We will be thankful to the Lord for our family.

In the midst of the church-going, the friends, the wrapping paper, the food, the loud voices we will remember the greatest gift....the gift of eternal life in heaven through the blood of Jesus Christ. We pray that each of you will give thanks for that gift, if you have already accepted it from the hand of God. If not, He’s holding it out to you...and we ask that you will take it, unwrap it, accept it into your hearts and rejoice. This is the Good News of Christmas. This is the Peace on Earth that we often speak of - the love and forgiveness of God. This is the must-have gift of all time. To you. From God.

Merry Christmas, our dear friends & family. We love you and pray for you God’s abundant love & blessings.

With love,

Eric, Vicki, Michael, Cassia, Anna, Katrina, Seth, Gloria, & Zane

Christmas Pain

2011-12-22T12:17:00.000-05:00

As I think of several of my family and friends, I am aware of how much hurt there is this Christmas season. Is it because of the pain we experienced last Christmas that makes me more aware of the pain others are experiencing this year or is there really that much more hurt?

Hearts broken. Families gathered around a loved one who is taking his last breaths. Families gathering around a grave of one who has just passed. Beloved foster children being torn away from those who have loved them for over a year. Loved ones overseas who will miss yet another Christmas with their family.

And the list goes on and on.

We often say, "It isn't right. This should be a happy time. It's supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, yet so many are hurting."

But, I got to thinking back to that day when Christ was born - the day we celebrate at Christmas. Oh, what a joyful time it is when a newborn babe enters the world. How much more joyful it was when that babe was the promised Messiah. Our world was given a wonderful gift...the One who would bring eternal life. Angel sang. Shepherds worshipped. Wise men gave gifts. But, was it all joy? Mary had to lay her precious newborn in a feeding trough filled with scratchy, dusty hay. Was there not a tinge of regret? One of the Wise Men brought myrrh - a spice used to anoint the bodies of the deceased. Was this not a sorrowful foreshadowing of what was to come? God sent His Son to earth - good tidings of great joy! He sent Him to die - what grief, what sorrow, what pain.

So, should Christmas always be nothing but joy & happiness? While we grieve with our loved ones who grieve, maybe in some small way it IS right. This pain surrounding an otherwise happy season allows us to sense a bit of the feeling of that night in the manger in Bethlehem where a baby lay...a baby who was born to die.

To Honor His Memory...His Legacy...His Family

2011-12-16T01:23:00.000-05:00

I wanted to write something prolific, something memorable, something that would honor the memory of Kenneth Parfitt on this day. The one year anniversary of his death. I'm not certain I will succeed.

On December 14, 2010, Ken was on his way to work when he stopped to help another motorist who had run off the icy road. When sure that the person was ok, Ken headed back to his car. Just as he was getting ready to get in his vehicle and drive off to another day at the office, he was hit by another passing automobile. Ken never again opened his eyes. The last thing he did was something he did on a daily basis...he helped someone. He cared for a stranger. He was an example to his son who was with him that morning.

I have wracked my brain this week for just the right words for this anniversary. Do we re-tell the story of that day? For that, no one has put it into words more clearly, more tenderly than the man who stopped to help Ken that morning. Do I list the various ways Ken and his family have been honored this past year? That doesn't seem fitting. Do I put into writing how I continue to grieve and pray for his family? Impossible.

All I can think to do is ask a question. While Ken has left a hole in his family that no one will ever be able to fill, should there still be a void in this world now that he has left it? The tracts in Ken's pocket that morning fell on the muddy floor of the ambulance. Have we picked them up and handed them out to the strangers we pass? There were people who knew to call Ken when they needed help. Do they now know that one of us is willing to help in their time of need? A family is moving...are we willing to drop what we are doing to help them? Ken is no longer able to do that. A missionary has a project that is at a stand-still due to insufficient funds. Are we writing the check Ken would have written? A child of God has left the fold and is checking out the pleasures of this world. Do we write their name daily in our prayer journal? Do we have a prayer journal? Ken did. Who is praying for those people now? The Bible studies that Ken led at Harris...do they still exist or are disciples struggling?

Ken is gone. If we do not pick up where Ken left off, a missionary could be left discouraged and broken. A single mom may get deeper in debt having to replace her old, broken-down dryer. A wayward teenager may never know he is loved. A soul may go to hell.

365 days ago, Ken Parfitt went to heaven. His race on earth was done. We miss him...his smile, his sense of humor, his brilliance. We grieve for his family. But, have we picked up his baton or have we left it lying on the ground in our grief? Have we filled in the gap that he left or have we left it wide open as we uselessly stand by and weep for what is lost?

Ken Parfitt made a difference in this world, but this world ought not be a different place without him. If we want to honor his memory, we must carry on and follow his example. We must not allow the void to remain.

Miss Ken. Grieve for his family...while you go and serve and give and love the stranger by the side of the road.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

2011-12-12T23:58:00.001-05:00

We decorated our house this past Saturday. It's not fancy. Nothing that will win any awards. In fact, our children did the majority of the decorating. We are so traditional that they all know where everything goes...same place every year. The only thing that changes is what color lights will go on the tree.

This year, our 14 year old tried his hand at putting up some lights around our living room windows and a couple of other places. So far, we've not done outside lights - I'm sure one of the boys will one day have the desire to attempt those. But, we like our lights inside where we can enjoy them!

Our decor will not be found in Better Homes & Gardens, Country Living, or any other home-decorating magazine. Elegance is most definitely not our theme. If I had to name it, it would be "Casually Live-able" or "Simply Sentimental" No one will ooh & ahh over our decorations. Many of them have special meaning to us, though - whether an ornament commemorating a special time in our lives or a decoration given to us by a dear friend. These mean more to me than the most beautiful Martha Stewart arrangement.

I'm all for gorgeously decorated houses...if that's what makes a particular family happy. My family seems to be happiest with the simple decorations. It's enough for them to have a bit of twinkle and nostalgia. It's enough for me to see their smiles.

No matter how each of us decorates our homes for Christmas, may all of our homes be filled with the shining smiles of our children and the sweet music of their laughter.

The ornament that takes center stage each year. If you look closely, you can see a very young couple celebrating their first Christmas 17 years ago.

Baby's 1st Christmas - this ornament is 14 years old. One of the first things the proud daddy bought his son!

This angel has been hanging on all of the Christmas trees in my life. Once held in my little hands, this year it was hung by one of my little one's hands.

Each year, my children receive new ornaments from their "Aunt" Becky & each year they get better!

This little bear came directly from Germany (another "Aunt" Becky special) about 10 years ago. If you check the back of it's head, there's a big hole where then-1 yr old Anna took a bite thinking it was candy!

While we have a chimney, it is stone and impossible to hang the stockings on it. So, we hang them on our panelled walls with care!

Hey, You!

2011-12-10T00:50:00.000-05:00

Yeah, YOU! The one with the husband.

What do you have to complain about?

There are women out there who wish they had a husband such as yours. A man who loves them. A man who will listen to them. A man who works hard to provide. A man who comes home every night.

Maybe instead of finding fault with your husband, you should find the many things to be thankful for. There ARE good qualities in him. There were when you dated him. There had to be something for which it was worth saying, "I do!"

Maybe instead of throwing yourself a pity-party because he hasn't taken you out in a few weeks, you could pray for the woman who buried her husband. Pray for the woman whose husband broke his vows and divorced her. Pray for the young lady whose heart has been broken by her betrothed and is wondering if she'll ever live happily ever after.

Maybe you need to stop finding fault with the man in the bed next to you and start pointing the finger at yourself. What could HE be complaining about and isn't? Show that kind of grace to him. Improve yourself and he just may improve.

In this day and age, it seems to be acceptable for a wife to find fault with every little thing her husband does, but if he criticizes he is harsh and cruel. Boo-hoo!

Listening to you complain about how immature, selfish, and/or ungodly your husband is, makes you sound even more so. Sort of like nails on a chalkboard. I'm not impressed and I'm not sure very many are. If anything, your complaining makes people feel worse for your poor husband than they do for you.

Are there legitimate concerns wives have? Absolutely. Are there ways to express those concerns without the husband desiring to flee to the roof-top? Yes. But, before you open your mouth....open your heart. Open you heart in prayer to the Lord. Open your heart in love to your husband - through your actions. Open your heart to self-examination and pull the mote out of your eye before you humbly approach your husband.

And, remember: the more complaints you have, the less you will be heard.

You, with the husband. You want to keep him? Stop complaining. Start giving thanks and start loving.

Friendship

2011-11-27T22:09:00.000-05:00

Looking back on the past 3 days, I see a prominent theme. That theme is friendship.

On Friday afternoon, we had a surprise visit from very dear friends. James worked for Eric for several years. His wife, Emily, we got to know as James began to fall in love with her. James was more than the hired help. He was (& is) one of Eric's best friends. They would laugh together often, yet have many serious discussions. James loved our children and they loved him. Often, you would see James walking from one barn to another with 1-3 little ones trailing behind him. As James and Emily's relationship blossomed, the children would run out to see her as she would pick him up from work. We had many good times with them - playing, laughing, talking....celebrating their marriage. When they left for James to go to dive school in Florida and take a job in Louisiana, we all shed tears. It's been 2 1/2 years, and this place still isn't the same. With James' unpredictable schedule, it has been 2 years since we've seen him and almost as long since we've seen Emily. We found out last week, happily, that Emily was in town for Thanksgiving while James was on a job off the coast of Mexico. We looked forward to our planned visit with her this past Friday. She had texted me Friday morning wondering if it would be alright if she came by around 3:15. About that time, I was working on some Black Friday shopping on my computer when my son called to me saying that she had arrived. As I walked out of my front room toward my kitchen to greet our dear friend I was surprised by the added bonus of James standing in our kitchen, as well!!!! He had finished the Mexico job and flew up to spend a couple of days with his wife and family. Seeing the surprise on my husband's face a few minutes later as he saw his best friend was a moment I will not soon forget! Even the dog remembered them! We laughed and talked and discussed upcoming changes for their family. It was good to have a piece of the "old-times" back again. Being reunited with friends is a precious thing.

Saturday found me running errands for my dear friend, Lisa, who is recovering from surgery after falling from a horse. It was a pretty full day of taking her daughter places and running to a couple of stores for her as she is laid up and totally dependent upon others. At one point, I was near tears with how tired I was and how much I had on my plate. But, I realized that I was in far better shape than Lisa and I could not give in to the temptation to quit. We have been blessed many times by being on the receiving end of such help. It can get tiring, but that is when true friendship kicks in. Friendship keeps on giving even after we have nothing to give. I don't say this to pat myself on the back. I say it because I am learning just what others have given for me and I appreciate it even more now.

Today (Sunday), we said good-bye to two dear friends who are leaving first thing in the morning to move to Barrow, Alaska. These friends are leaving to take a position as the administrator of the hospital located in that part of the Arctic Circle with the main purpose of helping missionaries faithfully serving the Lord in that cold waste-land. Eric and I and our children have become close with Stephen and Erin through the past two years. Like with James & Emily, we have talked about life & God, shared stories, and have laughed a whole lot! They have come over after Wednesday night church to celebrate different birthdays and eat cake. We closed up church on several occasions. Our family has cone to love this couple. Today, we hugged and said "good-bye." I didn't cry this morning. I bawled my eyes out tonight. Erin gave me some necklaces of hers as she's been weeding out things for the move. She knew I LOVED her jewelry and I'm blessed that she thought of me. I hope she realizes I will pray for her every time I wear one of those necklaces (& seeing as she gave me 5, I will be praying for her very often!!!!).

Re-uniting. Helping. Saying good-bye.

Happiness. Exhaustion. Tears.

Love.

This is friendship. This is life.

So Thankful

2011-11-24T00:42:00.000-05:00

Well, I had hoped to post every day about some things for which I am thankful. However, as usual, this week ended up so busy with me being too tired at the end of each day to write down things that I am grateful for. However, thankfulness has been a constant thought this week...

I am so very grateful for my darling husband. He supports me, laughs with me, talks & listens to me, and loves me. Truly, I am complete with him.

I am thankful for my children (though I sometimes forget that I am!). They teach me so much about my own relationship with my heavenly Father. They make me laugh and I love seeing them discover things about life. They are 7 miraculous blessings that I am so blessed to have.

I am thankful for the family from which I came and the family into which I married. I would not be who I am without the parents and brothers God gave to me and Eric would not be the incredible man he is were it not for the family God gave to him. My mom and his parents couldn't be better grandparents to our children, either!

I am thankful for our church family. I continually see the body pull together and help hurting members regularly. Our church has been through quite a bit this past year...and we are closer for the trials. God is so good to bless us with the gift of friendship and love.

I am thankful for the abundance of food we have in this country. Today I baked 5 pies and 2 loaves of pumpkin bread. My mother-in-law will bring over the 22-pound turkey and between she and I, along with another friend, our very long table will be heavily laden with a variety of delectable foods! In all the world, are there people feasting such as we are?

I am thankful for my health and the abilities I have to walk, think, hear, talk, work, drive, etc. I often take these things for granted...but today I am grateful for what God has allowed me to have.

I could go on about all the things for which I am thankful. But, I must get some sleep. I am thankful to each of you who stop by to read my ramblings now and then.

Let us all take some time to really focus on giving thanks today. Look at the faces of those sitting around your table and think about what they have added to your life. Look at the food that is on your plate and remember that not everyone is as blessed. Stop to thank the God who provided all - including the most precious gift of all - eternal life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Week of Thanks

2011-11-20T23:45:00.001-05:00

I know that we ought to give thanks every single day of our lives, especially if we are Christ-followers, but in light of Thanksgiving week, I plan on giving extra time to counting my blessings.

These last couple of weeks, I have seen friends physically hurting, emotionally hurting, going through stressful job changes, and stressful moves. In seeing all of their trials, I have prayed for them. In praying for them, I have come to be thankful for the lot God has given me at this point in my life. I am able to pray. I am able to help where I can. I am thankful for where I am right now.

Some blessings I have been made aware of this last week:
1. My ear is infected, but I am not laid up with a broken ankle.
2. My house may not be a palace, but it is big enough for my family and it is ours.
3. My husband may have to work a lot of hours, but he has a job that provides for our needs and our wants.
4. My children may drive me crazy at times, but they go to sleep in the safety of our home every night and are healthy and love the Lord.

God has given me so very much. It is my desire to list a few things for which I am grateful every day this week. Whether you have a blog, a journal, or a post-it note, I encourage you to do the same.

This & That

2011-11-16T00:08:00.000-05:00

Praise the Lord! Our harvest was completed last Wednesday morning. Now, the corn is being trucked to the local ethanol plant and now Eric is harvesting truck-loads of wood for the winter. He's tired when he comes home, but he's home for dinner every night.

About 2 weeks ago, a friend of ours was thrown off her horse (with our Anna right behind her on another horse) and ended up with a severely broken ankle. As she's a single mother, we've been pretty busy helping & organizing help for the family while she is laid up for a few months.

Last week, a few ladies and I were able to sit down at my kitchen table and plan our church's Homeschool Fair which will be held in May. The Lord helped us get some great ideas going and we are well on our way to getting together the best Fair ever! Though, my 6 year old was a bit disappointed to find out we wouldn't have a Ferris Wheel....

Three of our girls are preparing for their annual violin recital this Friday evening. I'm pretty sure two of them will do fine. The third one needs some practice...here's hoping!

We are celebrating Seth's birthday tomorrow. Oops, just looked at the clock - make that TODAY! Eight years ago today (in just about an hour and a half, to be exact), our high-energy, highly lovable son was born. I was telling him just yesterday how we literally prayed over him as soon as he was born - as he didn't take a breath for the first minute of his life. That was one of the longest 60 seconds I ever experienced. I am so glad God blessed us with my little Eric-clone!! :)

Not much of a post, but I just wanted to check in and let everyone know that I'm still alive. I have a few blog topics that I would love to get around to, but....we shall see.

Missing my husband...for a season

2011-10-24T23:18:00.000-04:00

My husband is currently snoring lightly on our couch. He's been pulling some late hours and comes home pretty exhausted. Though I attempt not to become weary during the harvest seasons, I never seem to succeed. I always end up at the point of tears and miss my husband so much. However, I was recently reminded what a GIFT it is to actually miss my husband. Some women, which I cannot comprehend, don't miss their husbands. Some are glad when he's gone or it doesn't make much difference to them one way or the other. God has blessed our relationship in a way that, after 17 years, we are still best friends and love to be together. Oh, it's not all rosy and perfect all the time. But, it IS pretty nice. :)

Yesterday, the adult members of our family got together at a nice restaurant to just enjoy some time together. This dinner had been planned for a couple of months and included my mom, my brothers and their wives, my cousin, aunt and uncle - an all-around fun bunch. Because the constant rain this fall has resulted in the harvest going later and because it was actually sunny & dry this weekend, I had to attend the dinner alone. I'll be honest - I was pretty sad about it. I had a bit of a pity party. No, I wasn't mad at my husband. I just missed him. I missed not having this little date with him. I was lonely as I drove our big van out to one of our favorite dining places without him.

Then I arrived at the restaurant and sat directly across from my cousin.

My cousin who became a widow 8 years ago when she was the age I am now.

My cousin whose husband was a farmer and died while doing a routine project on their land.

My cousin who has had to raise her 5 children alone. At the time of the accident her children were 14, 12, 3, & twin boys who were 1 year old.

My cousin who drives to family get-togethers without her best friend all the time. My cousin who can't just pick up the phone and ask her partner's opinion in matters regarding parenting or paying bills. My cousin who goes to bed alone every night. My cousin who misses her husband every day of her life.

My cousin's husband died three & a half months before my husband had the accident that very nearly took him from me. I was pregnant with our fifth child. Her life is very much a reminder of what mine could have been like.

As I sat across from my cousin who was smiling and laughing, I realized that I am blessed to miss my husband. For a season. Not a lifetime.

He sleeps on my couch tonight. He will work hard again tomorrow. I will miss him. I will be grateful, for I am abundantly blessed.

They Walk in the Footsteps of Jesus

2011-10-19T17:20:00.000-04:00

Recently, I have been thinking about foster parents, adoptive parents, and the children who are loved by them. No, we're not looking to adopt - we don't feel we have been called.

And, a calling it is. Or, it should be. Sadly, many foster parents are not called...as evidenced by their selfishness and lack of care for the young hearts that enter their homes.

However, there are many foster/adoptive parents who love each child who comes into their home with their whole hearts. They love, teach, and care for the children as they were their own. In some cases, those children will, indeed, be theirs one day. In others, tears will be shed as they say "good-bye." That is a grief I cannot even begin to imagine.

There are adoptive parents who fall in love with their child from miles away. Parents travel halfway across the world to bring home a child who, in any other case, has no hope of love or home or family.

To adopt a child, a parent must often pay a lot of money. They often have to have their home and family-life evaluated and "graded" by social services in order to be deemed "worthy" of the state. Parents have to fill out mounds of paperwork before they may call these children their own. Once a child comes into their home (if a foster child or the process of adoption has not yet been completed), that child must often leave for visits with their biological family members - often causing confusion & upheaval of schedules and emotions. I know of one family whose daughter, even after being adopted, still has to have visitation with a biological parent! Parents lose sleep over children who've been abused in ways they can't imagine and do all they can to protect them from any further harm or hurt.

I realize that foster and adoptive parents are not the same nor do they face exactly the same challenges. I realize that each adoption story is as different as each birth story. Some births are full of turmoil and distress while others are smooth and joyous. From what I understand, it is the same with each adoption.

I am in no way an expert in adoption or foster families. I only observe, hear, and listen to the stories and challenges of friends who are walking down that road. I can not empathize - I've not walked in their shoes. I cannot fully comprehend the love, fear, sorrow, and joys these parents experience and the roller-coaster of emotions that they must feel - other than they are, in many ways, the same as all parents - biological or not.

I have come to learn that these parents don't want the fact that their foster children or adopted children to be labelled as such. They are truly their children - not foster, not adopted. No labels, just love. Though the DNA will tell the world that these children and adults are not connected genetically, their hearts will tell the world that they are, indeed, family. In my opinion, love trumps DNA.

There is no better example of how Christ loves us than that of adoption. I was cast-off, unloved, and unable to care for myself (spiritually). When no one else could save me from my hopelessness, then came Christ. He saw my pitiful state and gave everything for me. He reached down and offered me a place in His family. Once I said "yes" He sealed the contract with His blood and I am now His child. No one can change that. I don't deserve to be in His family. My sin made me unworthy. But, He didn't see that. He loved me and that's all that mattered.

To those who have chosen to bring in a child from the outside and love that precious gift, thank you for reminding me of the love my Saviour has shown me.

Soccer & Family Unity

2011-10-15T00:04:00.002-04:00

Three of my children played on a 8-week Saturday soccer league this year. While I love watching all my children play, I get the best action shots from Seth's group. I just love the intense looks of their faces.

Warming up.

Just scored a goal!! Due to mother-failure, there is no photo of the scoring of the goal. :(

Love the mouths!

Keeping the goal (my favorite!)

Or, is this my favorite? :)

Seth has a great time every year at soccer. His first two years, he had great coaches. While his coach this year was nice enough, his "coaching" seemed to be a bit lacking. It seemed the team was made up of many individuals who thought they didn't need their team-mates. The coach would put the team in their positions and cheer for them, but never give them direction in HOW to play and how to work together. Though they're only 8 years old and it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, I was able to learn a lesson from them:

The team is only as good as their coach.

This lesson was good for me as a mom. If my family-team is not working together in unity, I am failing. If I am only putting them in their positions of responsibility, but not guiding them in how to work together pleasantly, our team will lose. When the opposing team confronts one of our members, we must be able to pass our burden on to another member who is standing close by to help. Unity is essential in success and success will only come from good leadership.

I did notice one time when the assistant coach (whom you see in the background of the last photo) did, indeed, give instruction to one of the players. However, the player flat out said, "No! This is the way I do it!" He proceeded to fail. So, just as coaches aren't always at fault, neither are parents. Sometimes, the guidance is given but not heeded. Often, the parent can do nothing but stand on the sideline and watch as their child misses the goal.

Oh, that my family would work together as a unbeatable team. That our determination to succeed would be as evident as the intense looks of determination on the face of an 8 year old soccer player.

Let's Hear it FROM the Boys

2011-10-10T20:50:00.000-04:00

All of my boys made me laugh (or roll my eyes - whatever the case may be) in the last week.

The 14 year old
Grandpa brought over a telescope he picked up at a neighbor's garage sale. Bring out a telescope and kids come out of the woodwork! Well, the telescope that's been in hiding in our basement made an appearance, as well, and daddy and the kids have been having an out-of-this-world time! One morning last week, my 14 year old comes into the house looking for his sisters. When I told him they were upstairs and asked him what he needed he replied, "I wanted to warn them to never look at the sun through the telescope!" This gem he had just learned through experience.
Let's just say that I have decided that any male who makes it to the age of 25 alive and not permanently maimed is a very real miracle!

The 7 year old
We were stopped at a red light before pulling into the parking lot of a local plaza. My daughter says, "That looks like Mrs. S over there!" She had seen a vehicle that resembled that of a friend's. However, as we were pulling into the plaza, it was evident that the vehicle was NOT Mrs. S's and the driver was definitely NOT Mrs. S. Instead of stating the obvious problem with my daughter's statement, my 7 year old says, "That's not Mrs. S. Mrs. S. isn't that old a man!"

The 4 year old
The other night my little one was sitting in the front room with me as I did some computer work. I looked over at him and said, "I'm pooped!" He suddenly gets this look of concern on his face and said, "In your pants?" Oh dear!! I guess I should be careful in what figures of speech I choose to use!!

5 birthdays in review....

2011-10-03T01:05:00.000-04:00

Six of our seven children celebrate their birthdays between June 30 & November 16. It makes for a crazy time (especially as 3 of the birthdays are within a month of each other). As summer was busy and now school is upon us, I haven't had much time to post pictures or details. Tonight, I'm staying up late due to too much caffeine. So, I've caught up on filing pictures, etc., and I will give you a quick review of birthdays. Bare with me if I do not caption everything. Also keep in mind that several of these photos are SOOC....just not enough time.

Happy birthday to Zane (6/30/07), Cassia (7/14/99), Gloria (7/31/05), Michael (9/8/97), & Anna (10/5/00).

While birthdays keep me hopping, I'm grateful for the time we have to focus on each special gift God has given to us!

Time to Start a Fire

2011-10-02T23:47:00.000-04:00

There are awkward moments in every annual event. The Readying of the Wood Stove is no exception.

Soccer Saturday

2011-10-01T22:47:00.000-04:00

It was COLD and rainy today. My husband was suggesting various things I could wear in order to survive the elements while I took my children to their Saturday morning soccer league. As he was leaving the room, I suggested that HE take the kids today. "Uh, I have a project to work on!" he says as he quickly closes the door and flees.

My 9 year old gashed her leg pretty badly yesterday. As a result, she would not be able to play with her team this morning. She still wanted to go and watch, but, given the weather conditions I told her that she would be better of actually playing if she went in order to stay warm. Knowing this was not possible, the decision was made that she would remain home. However, a few minutes later she appeared wearing her soccer jersey and culottes. I asked her if she had changed her mind. She hadn't. She just wanted to support her team the best she could from home. Precious.

My 6 year old scored her first goal! The cheering that occurs on the sidelines of Field 11 for the Pink Team is the loudest and most enthusiastic I've ever heard at this league. They are a fun group of girls to watch!

My 14 year old has been an assistant coach all year. Today, he planned what players would play what positions, etc. He put a kid in goal that hasn't played goalie all year. The kid let in 3 goals and ended up crying after his father gave him a hard time. Thankfully, the head coach spoke encouraging words to this young man. I'm grateful for such a man for my son to assist and learn from.

My 8 year old accidentally kicked the ball into his own goal while trying to keep it out. One of his team-mates yelled at him. My son is crushed whenever he feels he's let someone down. As he left the field in order for the subs to play, he came to me close to tears. When he told me what happened, he DID cry. I wanted to tell his team-mate what I thought of him, but I restrained myself. Instead, I explained to Seth that it was an accident and that the ball would have gone in either way (I saw it - it's true). Then I said (loud enough for aforementioned team-mate to hear) that EVERYONE makes mistakes and that I've seen that child make a lot of them this year. Ok, so that may not have been the most Christian way to deal with the problem. So, a few minutes later, I said (again, loud enough for team-mate to hear), "It's cold and everyone's a bit cranky. We all make mistakes. Not a big deal." In the end....don't make my kid cry.

One more week of soccer. All in all, it's been a good season.

Someday...

2011-09-17T00:59:00.000-04:00

...I'll have time to blog more often.
Until then, I'm sitting for hours 4 days/week doing school with 6 of my children.

Someday, my photography business will take off.
Until then, I'm spending Fridays going from field trip, to appointments, to lessons....

Someday, I'll have time to decorate my house.
Until then, I'll be catching up on laundry for this active household of nine.

Someday, I might have beautiful flower gardens instead of gardens of weeds.
Until then, I'll be planning and making meals to feed my family.

Someday, I might have clean floors everyday of the week.
Until then, I'll be raising the young ones God has given me that dirty those floors (& occasionally pay someone to come and clean them *gasp*).

Someday, I might be popular and may not be totally out of the loop.
Until then, I'll be talking with my kids and trying to guide them in their decisions and actions.

Someday, I might be able to take fun trips or go take a college course.
Until then, I'll be planning homeschool co-ops and classes for my children and their friends.

Someday, I may learn what is really important and not wish for the things I cannot do.
Maybe that day is just around the corner...

Peace, Perfect Peace

2011-09-15T21:34:00.000-04:00

The children and I have been going through the book Then Sings My Soul - Book 2 by Robert Morgan this year during our morning devotions. Included are over 150 hymns and the history behind them. Often, we'll come across a hymn we've never heard, but still read the words, though we can't sing the music. Today, a little hymn blessed my heart and I just had to share it:

Peace, Perfect Peace

Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?

The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.

Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?

To do the will of Jesus: this is rest.

Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?

On Jesus' bosom naught but calm is found.

Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?

In Jesus' keeping we are safe, and they.

Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?

Jesus we know, and He is on the throne.

Words: Edward H. Bickersteth Music: Orlando Gibbons

circa 1875

May you all have perfect peace in Jesus!

Go & Pray

2011-08-31T08:35:00.000-04:00

There is much I want to write, but because of my lack of time right now, I'll just write a quick note.

Please think of a mom or two you may know and pray for them in earnest today. Moms - new & experienced - aren't always doing as well as they may let on. They struggle, doubt, worry, hurt, sin, and are weary. No, this isn't a personal request for myself (though I could always use & do appreciate prayer) - this is a request on behalf of many, many moms who are treading the waters of motherhood just trying not to drown. Let's throw out a lifeline to them through calling out to the One who gives life, peace, and strength.

So, go. Pray for a mom or two.

Do Farmers Help Decide the Morality of a Society?

2011-08-12T11:07:00.002-04:00

I just came back from spending the day at Empire Farm Days in Seneca Falls, NY. Acres of farm implements, tractors, tools, food, and....farmers. Hundreds of farmers with their families.

About an hour into the day, I realized what I love about the environment at the Farm Days. I looked around me and I saw that all the men & boys were MEN. I can probably think of 2 or 3 guys that I saw with earrings. There were absolutely no saggy pants. I saw 2 guys with long hair - and they were more the motorcycle-type, not the Justin Beiber-type. Everyone else had short, normal haircuts. The guys walked like guys, not like girls.

Speaking of girls...while the girls weren't all dressed with long skirts (though there were several), almost all of them were fairly modest in their dress. They dressed with a down-to-earth style. No mall-divas there. No one looking like they were going to work the night shift on Main Street. *Ahem.* The all-American girl, in the traditional sense, was well represented and it was refreshing.

Farmers are common sense folk. They depend on God, nature, and hard work for their livelihood. Reality is inescapable. The pretty-boys and glamour girls of the pop-culture are not looked on favorably, because they are not sensible. There is a sense of pride in being a farmer - being independent - being strong and practical.

At one time, the majority of our society consisted of farmers. Sure, some of those farmers had other jobs, as well, but everyone lived in the real world of knowing they weren't invincible, but at the mercy of God. If they didn't believe in God, they knew there were forces stronger than they and this kept farmers down to earth. It kept them down-to-earth in their thoughts, their families, and their dress.

Interestingly, the majority of the farmers at the Farm Days were probably not religious folks. Maybe 1/4 of them were - Amish, Mennonite, Conservative Christians were easy to spot. I got to thinking that, though taking God & His Word out of our schools has helped cause the moral decay of our society, maybe it's not the only reason people are acting as crazy as they are in our modern age. Is it possible that the moral decay began when farmers became the minority? Is it possible that with kids being pushed into higher education in order to have a higher income that they began to see themselves as invincible and forgetting that there is a "higher Power"? Our families have taken their eyes off of the land, hard work, and survival and now work solely to be entertained, relax, or to become intellectuals. Our society no longer has to depend on God or forces of nature. They depend on themselves or the "generosity" of the government. Reality is something to be escaped and usually is.

Farmers cannot, nor do they wish to, escape reality. They live it everyday. Long hair, saggy pants, & jewelry have no place on the farm. Basically, because it isn't safe. Beauty queens don't exist on farms - dirt gets under those long nails, the wind destroys the perfect hairstyle, and make-up sweats off the face. Dress isn't a moral issue on the farm - it's practical. It's a practical mentality that seems to have escaped the unsaved & saved alike in today's world; liberal Christians and conservative Christians. And, it's a shame.

In 2011, farmers are a rare and precious breed. Today, I was honored to walk among them.

A Beeping Companion

2011-08-03T22:54:00.000-04:00

As I was sitting with my ten year old daughter in the OR recovery unit yesterday morning, I looked up above her bed and saw a familiar monitor. Three readings - heart, blood oxygen level, blood pressure - all in green. I was instantly taken back to 6 years ago.

On August 2, 2005 I sat in the NICU next to the bassinet of my 2-day old baby girl. She arrived exactly 7 weeks early. She was tiny and not quite ready for this world. She was hooked up to an identical monitor for 12 days. It would beep and set off alarms. I spent many a long day in her little area....holding her, watching her, praying for her. I'll never forget the first time she really bonded with me. I had been released from the hospital on August 4. I had intended to arrive at the hospital the next morning around 6:00, but, as it was the first night of decent sleep in over a week, I slept in a bit. When I arrived around 8:00 a.m., the nurses had just finished a 2-hour long ordeal of putting an IV into my tiny daughter. She was screaming as hard as a premie baby could scream. She was so upset. Had I come early, there would have been nothing I could have done....but have my heart broken as I'd helplessly stand by waiting for the trauma to end. Instead, the Lord spared me that and had me walk in just in time for the nurse to hand me my baby. As soon as Gloria was cradled in my arms, she began to calm down and nestled in for comfort. She knew I was her mommy - the one who loved her and would comfort her.

Three years later, I was in another hospital room. This time, that of our oldest son. He had had back surgery and was hooked up to IVs full of fluid, meds, and morphine. And, there was the monitor - keeping track of his vitals. Through the beeps, I sat with him. Through the pain, I held his hand. Though he hurt, he knew when I was there - his mommy - the one who loved him & would comfort him.

I looked from the monitor back at my 10 year old laying in the bed yesterday after a procedure that required her to go under general anesthesia. She didn't look quite as helpless as her baby sister did those years ago, but almost. She wasn't in near as much pain as her brother had been when he was exactly her age. Yet, I held her hand. Why? Because I'm her mommy - the one who loves her & will comfort her.

The beeping monitor has been my companion a few times so far in this journey of motherhood. I have to wonder if it will be my companion again. If it is, I will hold my child's hand, love my child, and comfort him or her. I can, because I know my Father is with me - loving me and comforting me all the while.

Avoiding Redundancy

2011-07-31T01:03:00.000-04:00

I posted about something that has been on my heart this week over at my photography blog. Rather than post it all again here, I'll just direct you over to Our View....if, indeed, you are curious. :)

A Funny Thing Happened at the USMC Museum

2011-07-29T15:50:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, my oldest son and I had a great mother/son trip down to Virginia to attend events surrounding the 150th anniversary of the First Battle of Manassas (Bull Run). We saw over 8,000 re-enactors on a field as they fought for 2-hours. I think this is the first time I've really even come remotely close to getting just a small taste of what that war must have been like. It's truly incomprehensible, but that re-enactment made it more real.

On Sunday, we went to Manassas Battlefield Park. There, of course, were more re-enactors with tents set up, etc. Also there, was a display for the National United States Marine Corps Museum. Seeing that it was close by and FREE, I knew this was an opportunity not to be passed up. So, that afternoon found us at the museum of the greatest branch in the military! (Ok, so that's MY opinion.)

We ate at the Mess Hall (complete with camo-lunch trays!), went through most of the amazing displays, and were impressed by the sacrifices so many have made throughout the years. So many battles, so many lives lost, so much freedom gained! Most poignant for me, was seeing the Marines who were touring the museum with their families. There's something about that short hair, straight walk, and look of determination on each of their faces that commands respect and honor.

All of that said, I must say one of my favorite things at the museum was what occurred in the gift shop before we left. There were many people browsing in the large store, including a young boy of 4 or 5 with his mother. He was adorable and well behaved. Well, up until the end. While looking at some books, I suddenly hear this child having a temper tantrum. He was yelling that he wanted a toy helmet. However, while most temper tantrums result in my blood boiling, this one actually made me smile. This child was not screaming in the stereotypical mad, high-pitched way. He was actually pleading, begging, very loudly and...very politely. "PLEASE!!!! Mommy, I want the helmet. PLEASE!!! If I don't have it I won't have a helmet to play with. PLEASE!!!!!!!!" I'm telling you, if the kid was not being carried out (mighty quickly) by his mother, I truly think he would have fallen to his knees in front of her, clasped his hands, and continued his pleading in that position of humility.

As I said, the mom was taking the child out of the store - as well she should. Polite or not, sad or mad, a temper tantrum is a temper tantrum. A minute later, she returned - still carrying her distraught son and in a bit of a loud voice says to her husband, "I need the keys...now." There was no messing with this mom. But, this is where I had to refrain from laughing out loud. The boy now screams (in that sad way), "PLEASE! Don't lock me in!!!!!!!!!" HA HA HA!!! That poor mother had to be mortified and immediately said, "I'm not going to lock you in!" I think she was trying to convince all of the customers more than her son. :)

Truly, the reason I think this is humorous is because any child who throws a temper tantrum over a toy is obviously not abused. I laughed in compassion of the mother - knowing how she must have felt. I laughed because one day soon she will look back on that incident and laugh. I laughed - my blood didn't boil - because, for once, a mom was doing the right thing.

I think she was married to a Marine.

Cherishing Everyday Moments

2011-07-19T09:20:00.001-04:00

I just watched my youngest child walk out to the barn. He just turned 4, so it's not the first time he's done this. But, this morning, five of my children are at VBS so just my oldest and youngest are home. Both boys - bookends.

Anyway, Zane (the 4 yr old), was at the barn most of the morning. Shortly after his siblings left for VBS, he came in to wash his hands. When he came out, he looked at me with his smile and said in his little boy way, "Mommy, I was working at the barn!" He was so proud of himself. He was one of the guys.

When he looks at me with that face - the glasses, the missing tooth, the blonde hair - I wish I could just keep him this way forever. I decided to send him back out with the mail - a real responsibility around here. "Don't lose it," I advised as he went out the door. "I won't," my little man said.

I decided not to rush off to do my own thing. Instead, I stood for a minute or two and watched my little guy walk to the barn carrying out his important duty. His blonde cowlick bopped along with him as he walked with a determined step. I remembered watching his oldest brother do the same thing almost 10 years ago. How is it that time flies by so very quickly? I guess I've learned that it does, which is why I stood there watching. No, I didn't have my camera - just like I remember his brother doing the same thing, I'll have this image in my mind forever.

The best sight was seeing his daddy & grandpa come out of the barn just as Zane arrived with the mail. Three generations (& the dog) stood briefly in a circle while daddy bent over to get the mail from his little boy's up-reached hands.

Mission accomplished. Life goes on. Now I have another moment of it to cherish.

A letter to my son

2011-07-13T11:11:00.001-04:00

Our son is at our church's Boy's Camp this week. The theme of the week is "Under Construction." They are staying about 45 minutes away from here in a house that they are remodeling. Along with this project, the boys are having personal time with God and preaching 2-3 times a day. This is Mike's first year at camp and, while I'm excited for him, I miss him.

Dearest Michael,

I write this note to let you know that beneath my Drill Sergeant exterior lies a mommy's heart. A few weeks ago, I told you that you were going to Boy's Camp. I knew you didn't want to go. You were nervous about having back pain. You were nervous about being gone for a whole week - you even said you were going to miss me!! You were worried about keeping up with the older guys. But, your dad and I told you that it would be good for you. That you needed to be under the influence of godly men who would direct you. You needed to be among some of the young men who are closer to manhood than boyhood. We told you that you can do anything they can do with diligence and that you need to learn to listen to authority other than your parents and that you need to learn to follow their instruction.

Once you realized that you had no choice, you turned your attitude around and began to look forward to camp. I so appreciate your ability and your decision to do that. You could have grumbled and complained about it, but you realized that you needed to make the best of this situation and that you would be better off if you got excited about it. You have grown a lot in this area in the last few months and it is a blessing to see.

So, we packed you up. I went into Drill Sergeant mode, again, when I didn't think you had packed enough of certain items. But, the General stepped in saying that the Private needed to make some decisions on his own - even if they were not the best. You need to learn, he said. So, the Drill Sergeant reluctantly backed off.

I said good-bye to you on Sunday morning as you headed off to help at the Air Show. After that, you would head to camp. I told you to behave, listen and obey, and smiled & waved. I succeeded in getting you to this important event.

While you may think that I was unfeeling towards your original hesitations, I am a master of hiding my true feelings.
   -You don't know that I cried myself to sleep on Friday night worried that my "baby" might not be able to hold his own among the older guys and that some of the men running the project would be harsh and you would feel bad.
   -While others have already forged their way into the teen crowd, you have to begin that process. You don't know that I worry how that will go.
   -You may not know that I have prayed for you every night at 10:00, knowing that your back requires comfort in order for you to sleep and wake without pain. I have prayed these past three days that you are happy and feeling well.
   -You may know that I worry that you aren't listening. I am praying fervently that your heart is soft and that you are allowing the Lord to work in your life.
   -You don't know that I worry that people won't see your potential and what a great kid you are.
   -I looked forward to seeing you at CHOICE all day on Tuesday, but you were busy working on the house you all are remodeling. I was sad I couldn't see you - to see if you were happy & well rested & pain-free - but I was thrilled that you were hard at work and needed!

I can't wait to see you tonight at church - to see how my "baby" is doing. I won't call you my baby in front of your friends. I won't even hug you in front of them, if you don't want me to. I will smile and enthusiastically ask you about your week. I will ask you if you are behaving and, if you are, I will admonish you to continue. If you are feeling down, I will tell you that it's going to be ok, to cheer up and send you on to finish your week. If you are happy, I will be happy for you and send you on your way with a wave & smile. I'm pretty sure, no matter what, that there will be tears when I get home.

I've come to realize that though we have our challenges, you add so much spice, energy, & fun to our family. There is a hole here without you. I realize that this hole will make it's appearance more and more as you speed towards manhood and that gives me mixed emotions. The Drill-Sargeant in me will continue to push you to do things you don't want to do. The Mommy in me will continue to worry if you are really ready.

At the end of this week, whether or not you've been "accepted" by the bigger guys, whether or not you've mastered construction, whether or not you had everything you needed, you succeeded. You obeyed with a smile. You tried enthusiastically. Your absence made me realize how precious you are to me. You may not know this, but I will tell you - I am very proud of you!

Love,
Mom

Dreams

2011-07-08T20:11:00.000-04:00

So, it's officially happened - my husband & I are giving our children nightmares

The other day, my 10 year old daughter tells me that she had a dream that she had a scrape on her knee and had to have her leg amputated.

While far from being an interpreter of dreams, I quickly realized WHY she had this dream.

For as long as our kids can remember, whenever they complain of a scratch or minor pain on one of their appendages, their dad or I will sarcastically say, "Do we need to amputate?!"

There goes "Parent of the Year."

Pea Harvest 2011

2011-07-01T09:11:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, the pea combines were in our fields harvesting the peas. This is always a highlight here on the farm. The kids & I, along with my niece & nephew, walked over and enjoyed our donut-breakfast while watching the large machines do their thing.

While my husband plants and cares for the peas, he grows them for a particular company and they are the people who decide when to harvest and who does the harvesting. I'm not even sure if my husband was in the field at all yesterday.

Here is a short video of the happenings with a bit of commentary by yours truly. It's definitely something you don't see everyday. Enjoy!

Ah, Summer-time!

2011-06-09T08:15:00.001-04:00

Went for a walk this morning. The bugs were all buzzing about in the early morning humidity. When I returned, I sat in our tree swing for about half an hour enjoying the cool breeze and the chirping birds. I felt I had little reason to rush the day and almost dozed off. I came inside a few minutes after 8:00 and all but one of my children are still sound asleep. Most of them are already brown with sun and are most likely sleeping off all the fun we had at the spray park yesterday.

Yes, it is summer. I am so glad it has arrived!

- Vicki

We Are Farmers

2011-06-06T11:21:00.000-04:00

So many people say how blessed our family is to live on and have a farm. This is very true, though few of these people know the amount of work goes into farming. Most see it as blue skies, green pastures, and a fun ride in a tractor. My farm friends know the truth of the matter - good and bad!

However, one of the biggest benefits is that a farm is truly a family culture. The other day, my 7 year old was speaking and said, "...we are farmers." We. Not "daddy." How many 7 year olds will say, "We are computer programmers"? What child will say, "We are teachers"? However, children of farmers declare themselves to be farmers.

While a couple of my children do help out with some of the lighter farm-work, most of us don't touch a tractor, pick a rock, or plant a field. However, we pray over the crops, go out to the fields to see daddy harvest crops, rejoice when land is bought and crops are in, discuss the weather and it's effect on the fields, etc. I drive my husband back and forth to pick up vehicles. We all see him run all over the place trying to do 5 things at once.

My children sacrifice time with their daddy. In the two years they have been involved in a soccer league, he has seen one game. He has missed at least one music recital. We go on Saturday outings without daddy. However, our children rarely are saddened by his absences. Contrary to popular belief, they don't doubt their father's love for them. Why? Because they can SEE from the kitchen window exactly why daddy isn't able to participate in many things. They see what it is that puts food on our table. They see why he comes home tired at night. They see how hard he works and are proud of what he does.

While there are hardships to being a farm family, they are outnumbered by the good things. One of those blessings is the fact that, while other children have little idea what their fathers actually DO all day and wonder about where he goes, our children know exactly what their daddy does and feel a part of it.

While we don't work the land, our family is the support system of the farm. Indeed, WE are farmers!

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words...

2011-05-23T21:52:00.000-04:00

...the problem is, I didn't get the picture. In fact, I missed two pictures.

Tonight was a gorgeous early-summer evening. Our children have finished school for the year, we had a late supper of pizza & ice cream, and daddy had come home. The older children wanted to ride their bikes, so we told them they could go down the lane of our newly-purchased property across the street. Eric & I took the 3 youngest and walked with them down the same lane. As this property was purchased in the fall, this is really the first time we have had the chance to really venture out on it together.

Often, I will bring my camera on such occasions. Just as regularly, I'll purposely leave my camera at home to just enjoy my family and the time we have together. I focus on them with the naked eye instead of through a viewfinder. They see ME and not a camera attached to my face. While I am glad I make this effort, invariably I see a shot that makes me twinge with regret. Tonight, it was two shots.

The first was when my husband veered off the lane and began to walk in his newly planted field. I'm never sure what I think is more beautiful - the freshly disced and planted soil, the green plants waving in the summer breeze, or the freshly harvested field. Each is beautiful in it's own right. So, tonight, in the midst of this dark soil for as far as the eye could see, surrounded by hedgerows of trees, with large blue clouds in the evening sky, was my husband slowly walking. A hard working farmer in the middle of his field. In the middle of his dreams. In the middle of his life. What a sight.

The only sight that topped that was on our way home when he walked the same field, while the sky was beginning to redden with the setting sun...with our 7 year old son by his side. Father and son. Two peas in a pod. Most likely, future farm partners. My heart swelled with love for my family, the goodness of God, and His promise to care for us always.

Oh! How I wish I had my camera this evening. But, only so I could share the moment with you all. I have those pictures in my memory forever.

Two Boys - One Day

2011-05-13T22:11:00.004-04:00

We arrived at the Ryan Center on Monday afternoon around 4:10, as has become our custom recently. As we drove in, I noticed that there were some people playing in the baseball field. I didn't notice how many or how old they were. I just saw them for a moment while I quickly thought how nice it was to see people enjoying the beautiful weather after all the rain we had recently. I parked the van, we got out, and entered the building.

My children and I minister with several other people from our church to the city children who belong to an afterschool program in the Ryan Center. There are probably 200 children involved in the various activities there, but about 20 or so children from the ages of 7-12 years attend our CHOICE Kids Club every week. Some of the children attend weekly. Some we see from time to time while others may come once, just to see what it's all about.

On Monday, May 9, CHOICE was the same as any other week. We got into the gym where the kids played ball for a while and talked with the leaders. The mats came out and we gathered there to sing some Bible songs, listened to a lesson (this week's topic was "confidence"), then watched a skit pertaining to the topic discussed. During lesson-time, we heard sirens, but didn't think too much of them as we are in a city where sirens are commonplace. Next, we broke up into pairs (leader/clubber) for handbook time, the most important part of CHOICE. This is when the clubber learns more about God, His love for them, and how they may accept Christ and live for Him. After handbook time, the kids say their memory verse for the week and receive candy as a prize. They play some more games, then CHOICE is over for the week. Some of the children go home, while others remain at the center until parents/guardians pick them up.

The children that attend CHOICE come from different families than most of us are used to. These children may or may not live with their parents. Many do not know their fathers. Many do not have much money and are grateful for the snacks and dinners they may receive at the center. All, however, are looking for friendship and love.

Two weeks ago, I met a clubber who has been attending for more weeks than I have been participating. He captured my heart the first week and I was able to share handbook time with him again this past Monday. He is 7 years old and, apparently, has been a handful for some of the leaders. However, with me, he's the sweetest thing. He needed to learn a verse and he struggled with it. I wrote it down for him to take home and learn during the week. He learned another verse well enough for my son to give him a piece of candy. Candy means a lot to most 7 year olds, and "my" boy is no exception! Which brought us to a bit of a problem with him towards the end of CHOICE on Monday. He wanted candy that he thought was due him. Instead of just letting it go, he burst in to tears, ran off from the group, and threw himself on the ground.

While I do not condone such temper tantrums, something about this boy yanks at my heart, so I sat down and put my arm around him. He cuddled up to me immediately. He didn't say much while I asked what was wrong. I gradually explained to him that there are better ways to handle things and even managed to get him to agree to apologize to the leader running the game he ran off from. I gave him a big hug. CHOICE was over and he went home with his sister.

I walked outside with my children and a couple of other leaders. I noticed that the parking lot my van is parked in was surrounded by yellow tape and there were police cars, policemen, and people all over. One of the leaders heard that a child had been hit about an hour before. I asked a police officer if I could get to my van and leave. He double-checked and said it would be ok. It was a bit surreal crossing the yellow tape. We got in the van and began driving home. My 11-year old daughter, who has been blessed with a heart of compassion, suggested we prayed. All in the van (but me, as I was driving) bowed their heads while she prayed for the child who had been hurt - that he/she would be ok, would not die, and for their family. It was quiet for a while.

We got home and I got dinner for the children. As they were eating, I checked the news on the internet. Apparently, around 4:30/5:00 pm, a driver had had a seizure or heart attack causing him to lose control of his car. The car careened into the very ball field where I had notice people playing as I drove into the Ryan Center. Two children were hit...a boy and a girl. The boy was pronounced dead at a local hospital. Today, the girl continues to recover and is expected to do so fully.

(For story, go to: http://www.democratandchronicle.com/article/20110513/NEWS01/105130342/1168/RSS )

No, this boy was not "my" boy. The boy who was hit, however, was the very same age as my clubber. He was the same race, went to the same school, and probably enjoyed candy as much as "my" boy. He was outside enjoying a fun game of kickball with the sun shining down on him. He was probably laughing. Then, he was in heaven. His mother knows God has a reason, but she grieves. The boy's teachers and schoolmates grieve. I will find out this Monday if "my" boy is grieving.

Life is an interesting and fleeting thing. While one seven year old is crying about candy, another seven year old within several hundred yards is entering eternity. When I drive into the parking lot next Monday, my glance over to the ball field will linger. I will most likely see a memorial to a little boy who left this world seemingly too soon.

I don't attempt to understand it. All I know is...I am so glad that I gave "my" boy a hug before he left CHOICE this past Monday and can't wait to give him another one in a few days.

Welcome to...My Life

2011-04-25T22:10:00.001-04:00

Some day soon, I will write a post worth reading. Today, I wanted to just jot down these recent happenings for something tells me that I will one day come back and read this and cherish the memories.

Maybe.

Let's start with last Saturday (April 16).

We won't mention the two days before where I ran from one appointment to the next activity for about 28 hours straight - literally.

But, onto Saturday. That evening, I was planning on having 13 of my dearest and oldest friends & family over for a dinner celebrating all of us being in the same state for a weekend. During the day, however, I was attending the baby shower of one of those sweet friends. Of course, on the way, I needed to buy the present. An hour before I was to leave, my 10 year old daughter said she had woken up in the early morning with back and side pain. She said the back pain was gone, but the pain in her right side was persisting. Uh-oh. Having had appendicitis, I know the symptoms. As her daddy was home, I left an hour later as she still had no fever and said the pain wasn't any worse. A few hours later, Eric called me at the shower to let me know he was taking Anna to the ER. She had a fever and the pain was continuing. Praise the Lord, it wasn't appendicitis, but a UTI due to a condition with which she was born. So, a few hours later, all of us are home, Anna is on the couch, and our friends begin to arrive. Shortly after we sit down to eat, Anna starts to throw up. In the kitchen. Right where we are eating. Fortunately, she has a bowl.

Yeah.

Thankfully, the rest of the evening is a blast and continues without incident. The last friend walks out the door at 11:30 and my sweet hubby begins on the dishes. I then begin the 45 minute ordeal of giving my daughter her medicine. It wasn't that she gave me grief about taking it, it's just that it wouldn't stay down. In times like that, we have to give the meds in smaller doses until the full dose stays down. I fall asleep around 1:15. I wake up at 3:30 and stay awake until 4:00 when it is time to begin giving Anna her meds. Praise the Lord, it only takes about 15 minutes to complete. Just when I lay down, here comes the 3 year old boy awakened by the wind. He now wants to sleep with me. On the oh-so-comfortable-and-not-so-roomy-couch. I fall asleep around 6 and wake up at 8:00 with aforementioned 3 year old's hand in my face. Praise the Lord for Sunday afternoon naps!!

Monday finds me calling the doctor as the meds are clearly not helping Anna. So, it's off to the pharmacy for a new prescription, then pick up Seth for his piano lesson, then it's off to CHOICE Kids Club with 6 of my children. Got lost on the way there, but it was a good time.

Wednesday - off to a lake about an hour away from my house for a very cold and windy family photo session. It was a lot of fun, but a bit cold. Came back home, dropped off a child and headed to Wal-Mart. I had brought a helper for the kids while I did the photo session and, upon hearing that I had a meal to drop off that afternoon, she suggested I drop that off on my way to take her home. Another trip home to get the meal. Turns out, the family to whom I was taking the meal lived in the opposite direction of my sweet helper. That's ok - we had fun, anyway. Finally got home in time to get dinner together and my family ready for church. My hubby obviously could tell I was a bit tired, etc., so suggested I stay home. Have I mentioned how much I love him??? Had a great time with the Lord. Alone. In the quietness of my house.

Thursday morning I woke up to a message from a friend who was coming over Friday. The night before I had suddenly realized I had double-booked my friend's visit and a field trip. Hmm...had to find out what time the trip was on Friday so I could tell my friend what time to be here. When I got in touch with my field trip coordinator at 8:15 on Thursday to ask her what time the trip was the next day, she sent me a message telling me that it was at 10:30....THAT morning!! Uh-oh. Plus, my niece and nephew were coming to spend the day. Well, we found ourselves at the Public Market at 10:30. It truly was a fabulous tour and I am happy to report that all of the things I wanted to accomplish around my house that day STILL got done!

Friday was a great day of visits. My friend and her daughter came for a few hours and then Eric and I had some adult time with a couple of more out-of-town friends that evening.

Saturday was a full day. That morning, I came downstairs just in time for my 5 year old to throw up. I won't give you the gory details. I'll just say it was GROSS. Got the blankets cleaned up. The rest of Saturday was perfectly lovely. It was sunny, 70 degrees, my hubby got home early, took the kids for a wagon ride in which they stopped and chased frogs and ran around the woods. I picked up some hot dogs, chips, and ice cream (my 5 year old had made a complete recovery by now) and we had our first picnic of the season. Everyone was tired by bedtime. My 3 year old mentioned that his ear hurt, so I gave him some Tylenol and sent him to bed. The little guy was sound asleep in 5 minutes.

An hour later, he was awake and crying. Loudly. I applied garlic oil to his ear, gave him more pain killer, and held him as we waited for his ear drum to rupture. If you've never been through that, it is NOT pleasant. There is little you can do for your child until the rupture occurs and the pain ends. He cried and cried and tried to get away from the pain. Once it was over, he instantly fell asleep and I went to sleep around midnight.

Until 2:00 a.m. Now it's the 11 year old who is sobbing. Loudly.

Now, I love my daughter. But, whereas my 10 year old with kidney infections is a rock, my 11 year old is not. She said her stomach hurt, blah, blah, blah. I don't intend to demean her woes - I truly did not hear what she said. All I could think was she got whatever bug her little sister had, so I told her to go downstairs and get a bowl. Turns out she was hungry. Of course, she had to wake me a few minutes later to tell me that. About 30 minutes after that, she wakes me for the 3rd time crying in pain. Another comfy night on the couch for me.

Her ailment? Gas. I kid you not.

Sunday was a wonderful day spent with family. Sunday night, my Anna's back is hurting. Took her to the doctor this morning. Now the other kidney is infected. I think someone just hit the rewind button and we're starting all over again.

Welcome to...my life. Something tells me, however, this sounds a bit like YOUR life, as well.

These are the moments to cherish. I think. Maybe I will someday. And that's why I write them here.

Are you ready?

2011-04-20T16:43:00.000-04:00

In the past few months, several people we have known have passed into eternity suddenly and without any warning. Each of them has been around the same age as Eric and I.

Recently, my friend lay at death's door due to a brain aneurism. Thankfully, the Lord miraculously brought her through and she is healing well.

The same cannot be said for our friend Ken, who died while just entering his car after helping a stranger. Or for Larry, a seemingly healthy man who died in his sleep hours before Ken was hit. Sweet Carissa was taken after her kayak flipped in the cold waters off the coast of Maine less than a year ago.

Just today, another man from our former church passed away. He was a police officer in a dangerous city, yet it was not the bullet from a "bad guy" that killed him. He was sick with a bacterial infection. He leaves a wife and three young children.

The brevity of life has become very real to me. Often, death comes without warning. Brain aneurism, sickness, accident...no announcement, no preparation, no time to make peace with God. Any one of us could be looking into the face of the Creator at any moment.

Are you ready? Do you know Him? Will He be able to accept you into His kingdom? Jesus came to die, to pay the price for our sin, so that we may be with God forever. Without the blood of Christ washing away your sins, you will have to spend eternity away from Him.

From their testimonies, Ken, Larry, Carissa, and Bill were ready. They all sit at His feet at this very moment, worshipping the God they served while on earth. The One whose gift of life and love they accepted years ago. Someday, I will join them.

Will you?

Are YOU ready?

Under One Roof

2011-04-04T23:40:00.000-04:00

We just returned home from a fantastic 5-day trip to Ohio for a homeschool convention. We took our four oldest children with us while the younger three stayed with Grandma.

Why is it that you don't know how much you miss someone until you are reunited with them? That is how it often works with me, anyhow. I couldn't get enough hugging and squeezing with my little ones.

While we had a wonderful time on our trip and our little ones had a great time with Grandma, I believe we are all happy to be in our own beds tonight. I, for one, am glad to again have all of my babies under one roof. It is times like these when I realize just how precious my children are to me.

I must remember this tomorrow when they start whining and bickering....

Little Known (& random) Facts About Me

2011-03-22T23:34:00.000-04:00

1) I was 6 lbs 6 oz 18 in long when I was born. Only time in my life I've ever been tiny.

2) My middle name is Kathleen.

3) When I was little, I prayed that my husband would love God, be tall, and would not wear glasses. I also thought the prominent "Adam's Apple" was cool but felt silly praying for that. I got all I asked for - including the "Adam's Apple."

4) I'm very shy and insecure by nature.

5) I have anger issues.

6) I hate to fly.

7) My biggest fears are tornadoes, fire, and being fat.

8) I love to make people laugh.

9) I failed every Math & Science final examination from 9th-12th grade

10) I wanted to be a teacher, a wife & mom since I was 5 years old. I am all three.

11) I once thought my children would be better off without me. Gratefully, God showed me I am where He wants me to be...and where I want to be.

12) I majored in English for 3 years in college. I never graduated as my love gave me a better offer...marriage.

13) I've lived in 15 different homes.

14) My favorite place on earth (besides with my husband) is Vermont.

15) I've known my best friend all of my life. She and I are 14 hours apart. I'll leave it to you to guess who's older.

16) I never dreamed I'd live on a farm.

17) I dislike accordian and organ music, though I have friends who play both.

18) I don't like different foods on my plate to touch. Yuck!

19) I weigh 10 lbs more than the day I got married.

20) My favorite book in the Bible is the book of Ruth, though the Pauline Epistles are a close 2nd.

The Difference Between Men & Women

2011-02-17T16:52:00.000-05:00

A thin woman will look in the mirror and think she should lose 10 pounds.

A man whose gut is hanging over his belt will look in the mirror and think he's still "got it!"

Voices from the Past

2011-02-16T14:40:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a big day here at the farm. My husband's new John Deere combine arrived. Bright blue sky, white snow, and GREEN machinery - it's a beautiful sight! While there are some farmers who are blessed enough to be able to trade in for new equipment every year, the last time this farm has purchased a new combine was 1981. With all the hours put into that machine, it was past time for a new Deere.

While all of us were excited, it was cold and icy outside, so only a couple of the children ventured out. Little Gloria was thrilled to get a ride in the "buddy seat" next to daddy. When our 3 year old asked to go out, I told him, "no" because of something his grandmother said a couple of months ago.

My mother-in-law and I had been talking about the arrival of the new combine shortly after the guys had purchased it in December. A while after we hung up from our conversation, my mother-in-law called me back. She sounded a bit shaken as she told me to watch Zane extra carefully the day the combine arrived. She had just had a premonition, and it wasn't good. For this reason, Zane stayed inside all day yesterday.

Am I superstitious? No. The fact is, I probably wouldn't have paid any attention to it had it not been for a premonition my mother-in-law had almost 38 years ago.

July 1, 1973 - It was a Sunday afternoon. My husband was 3 years old. He and his parents along with his sister, and two brothers had come home from church. The oldest brother was across the street fishing and the 5 year old, Michael, wanted to go outside. He had put on his sneakers and asked his mom to tie them for him. Something inside her told her, "No. Don't tie them now. Wait." But, wanting to make her little boy happy she ignored the voice and tied the shoes. A few minutes later, as Michael was crossing the street to see his brother, he was hit by a car. My father-in-law did CPR until the paramedics arrived, but to no avail. They lost their little boy that day.

No one was to blame. It was an accident. I don't think my mother-in-law blames herself - she knows God has a plan for everyone and everything. But, she has never forgotten that voice.

So, when she told me to watch Zane when the combine arrived, I listened. He stayed in the house yesterday. Today, I had the privilege to put his little boots on him when he finally got to go outside to play.

Damsels in Distress & Big Galoots

2011-02-11T23:01:00.000-05:00

So, I have this boy & girl living at my house.

The boy is a teenager. A young teenager. With an attitude that is getting old fast.

The girl is not quite a teenager. But, apparently her emotional hormones don't know that. She cries. A lot.

The boy has not yet learned to be a gentleman. He's what most 13 year old boys are - a big galoot. (I find it a bit self-satisfying that spell check is not screaming at me over the word "galoot." Apparently, it is a real word & I have spelled it correctly the first try.) When a big galoot comes into contact with an extremely sensitive damsel, nothing good comes of it.

The big galoot is basically my husband's problem. All he is to me is character training. That's a whole other blog post.

The damsel in constant distress is my problem. I sat on her bed this evening and explained to her that I understand the fact that she feels ready to cry at the drop of a hat. I understand that she usually has no idea why she wants to cry. I told her that I know how frustrating it is. I also told her that, though her father is a sweet, considerate man now, he was also once a 13 year old galoot. Only difference was, he didn't have a younger sister to drive to tears.

Just as the girl will learn to control her emotions, the boy will eventually become a gentleman.

How long this will take, I do not know. I'm not even sure it will happen, but I have to have faith. During the course of this journey, there will be three more distressed damsels and two more galoots.

I suddenly just got the same feeling I get when slowly climbing the first hill of a roller-coaster. I'm buckled in, it's too late to get off, and I better pray I live through this.

Counting My Blessings

2011-02-08T13:01:00.001-05:00

During the past week, one after the other of us has been knocked down by the flu. Now we seem to be moving right into a nasty cold. I was going to spend my blog post talking about sickness, the "blahs" of winter, etc., but decided today would be a good day to just count my blessings.

1) I am grateful that we have illnesses that we will recover from relatively quickly. I am so thankful for our family's over-all good health through the years.

2) I am grateful that my husband has a job to go to every day and that it supplies our needs and our wants. I see several friends searching for jobs and trying hard not to stress, but leave it in God's hands. So far, never in our married life has Eric been without a job and I am so very thankful for that tremendous, and rare, blessing.

3) I am grateful for my children. Yes, they may drive me crazy at times, but they make life interesting and fun. I love seeing things through their eyes and experiencing new things with them. If it weren't for them, there is so much in life that I would never have experienced.

4) I am grateful for young friends who remind me of the difficulties and joys of growing up. Because of them, I will not soon forget those days and I hope those memories will help me to better help & understand my children as they grow into adulthood.

5) I am grateful that my husband comes home every night, does not drink, does not gamble, does not do drugs, does not beat me, does not insult me, but loves and cherishes me with his whole heart.

6) I am grateful for a little 3 year old boy who loves to be snuggled. And, I'll tell you a secret. Though he's not supposed to suck his fingers, I love it when he just snuggles in my lap and puts his fingers in his mouth. I'm not ready to let my baby go.

7) I am grateful for lots of land for my children to go out and safely play.

8) I am grateful for 24-hour stores. Moms don't always get a chance to shop during "normal" hours!

9) I am grateful for the hope of spring.

10) I am grateful for friends near and far who encourage me, pray for me, laugh with me, and inspire me. I hope I do the same for them.

So, my head is still clogged, my nose is still leaking, my eyes are still watering....but my heart is full of thanksgiving today!

Christmas 2010

2010-12-28T00:34:00.000-05:00

This Christmas was a little different as it had an aura of sadness about it. As I got up on Christmas morning and started to get ready for the day, it felt as if a heavy weight was slowing me down. This has become a familiar feeling in the last couple of weeks. I asked God, "Will this feeling ever go away? Why today, on Christmas?" I automatically thought of a new widow - who may never be rid of a weight of sadness that is much heavier than mine - and I felt so selfish. I prayed for her & her family and went downstairs to mine.

In spite of the initial Christmas-morning sadness, this Christmas holds many special memories for me.

1)   The surprise and wonder that my 3-year old had this year. At that age, little ones don't remember past Christmases and everything is so new and amazing. On Christmas Eve, we went to my in-law's, as is tradition. Zane knew there were gifts and after supper he asked if we would be doing presents soon.   When I said that we would, he said, "For Katrina?" "Yes," I said, "for Katrina and for you, too!" His eyes got so big. Then I began to list the family members that would be receiving gifts: "Michael, Cassia, Anna..." "And Grandma and Grandpa?!" he nearly shouted. It was so sweet.
     He was shocked that he not only received one gift, but two. One of his gifts was a Thomas the Tank Engine book with little figurines of the various characters as well as a play-mat. He absolutely loved it. Later, as we were moving the play-mat & trains into the toy room, he asked Grandma, "Can I keep this?" She told him that he could. "Can I take this home?" He was totally flabbergasted at this whole concept. And when he found out there were more gifts the next morning...wow!
   Zane is most likely our last little one. Though I am enjoying sleeping through the night & being diaper-free, I am truly going to miss this stage of wonder.

2)   While the 3-year old tugs at the heart-strings, the 13 year old tickles the funny bone. After the gifts were opened at Grandma's house and we were digging into the desserts, he was watching the annual television broadcast of "It's a Wonderful Life." We had already watched that earlier in the season and we were soon going to be watching "The Nativity" (a wonderful movie, by the way) on DVD. As he was sitting in the old easy chair, he suddenly said something like, "The more I watch this movie, the more I think George should have jumped from the bridge." HA HA HA!!! Gotta love the teenager!

3)   Starting a few years ago, some of my children began to make gifts for their daddy & I. Last year, they did some things for each other. It thrilled my heart to see them exchange gifts on Christmas morning with one another. Though there seems to be an awful lot of bickering among them, they truly do love each other.

4)   We gave our 8-year old a cupcake decorating set. It really was fun baking mini-cupcakes and helping her decorate some on a relaxing Christmas afternoon. The fact that she could actually take some to her grandmother later on truly made her happy. I think it is a memory the both of us will cherish for some time to come.

5)   Our oldest son prepared a short message for us and "preached" it on Christmas night. It was about 5 minutes long, but it was well thought out and delivered. It wasn't the Christmas story, but it was about Christ's command to us as He left the earth - to tell the world the gospel. It is my prayer that Michael will continue to prepare messages and deliver them as the Lord allows.

6)   Though there were many special moments in our day, my most cherished memory will be of the prayer meeting we attended at our church on Christmas night. Our church has a men's prayer meeting on the last Saturday of every month. As the last Saturday in December happened to be Christmas, the pastors decided to hold the prayer meeting for anyone who wasn't already occupied with family, etc. In order not to separate families on Christmas, the meeting was open to all family members. Pastor asked that all who were in attendance pray. It was his desire, also, that we just praise & thank God and not ask for anything. What a special time that was. About 50 souls were there, each with freshly wounded hearts due to recent events, and each of us just praised and thanked God for His goodness to us.
     Our 5-year old, Gloria, was quite distracted by the idea that she would have to pray out loud among all of those people. In all honesty, I think there were a few of us who were a bit intimidated. She whispered to me a couple of times that she didn't want to do it and she didn't know what to say. I told her to just pray, "Thank you, Jesus, for my family and thank You for saving me. Amen." As it worked out, she had to wait quite a while before it was her turn. I wasn't sure what she would do. Gloria's turn came and her sweet voice was heard saying, "Dear Jesus: Thank You for the manger. Thank You for being born. Thank You for dying on the cross. Thank you for the world....Amen"
     Of all of my special Christmas memories, nothing will top that of my sweet 5-year old's innocent & heart-felt prayer that night. There was no weight of sadness at that moment - just pure joy.

The Sons of Parfitt

2010-12-22T22:57:00.000-05:00

This past Sunday, Ken Parfitt's five sons each preached a 10-minute sermon during our service. Each was a touching tribute to their father - their love for him, his service to Christ, and what he taught them. You will be blessed tremendously if you listen. May Ken's death not be in vain. May we all learn from his examples and serve Christ with our whole hearts.

The Parfitt young men preaching in memory of their father.

"My Dad Taught Me"

2010-12-16T23:30:00.002-05:00

Sunday morning, 12/12/2010 : During Family-School, Pastor F. has a sweet little girl sit on the top step of the altar and help him list the ten plagues, in order. When the pastor asks her how she knows all of the plagues so well, the young girl gives her signature sweet smile and says simply, "My dad taught me."

Later in the service, Pastor C. preaches a powerful sermon about prayer and fasting. He uses the example of Daniel's fast (Dan. 10) and how there comes a time in our lives where we just need to get a hold of God through fasting and prayer.

Tuesday morning, 12/14/2010, 7:10 am: The dad who taught his little girl the 10 plagues (in order) stops by the side of a snowy highway to see if he may assist someone who has slid off the road. When told the tow-truck was on its way, he makes his way back to his car. Suddenly, an on-coming car loses control on the icy road and this father of the sweet little girl is struck, thrown, and lies unconscious in the snow.

7:30 am: The church members receive an e-mail from Pastor C. informing us of this tragic accident. He also informs us of Pastor F's brother's sudden passing during the night. We are requested to fast and pray.

All through the day we fast and we pray. We pray for comfort for our pastor. We weep for our brother Ken in the hospital fighting for his life. We beg God to give wisdom to the doctors who are desperately trying to save him. We pray for comfort for his wife and 8 children - one being that sweet little girl on the top steps of the altar. Most of all, we ask that God be glorified.

A popular local radio personality happened to be one of the first on the accident scene. When Ken's wife arrived, he heard her fervent, earnest prayer; not that her husband would be spared, but that God's will would done. Beginning with the words of this radio host, the story of Ken's Bible lying next to him, the words of his wife's prayer, the blood-stained gospel tracts in his pocket, of Ken's life-long service to God and to others spreads throughout the city, the country, the world in a matter of hours.

God is already getting the glory.

Wednesday, 12/15/2010, 7:20 am: Surrounded by his wife, sons, and many family and friends, Ken's heart pumps its final beat. It has been 24 hours since he got out of his car to help a stranger...since he last looked on this world. In that 24-hours, people all over the world have heard or have read about his wife's prayer of faith. In that 24-hours, people have heard about how a Christian man lived giving of himself for others. They heard how he died giving of himself for others. Ken told many people about the love of Christ throughout his life. Yet, while he was lying in the ICU, he reached more people than he ever dreamed.

Some would say that our fasting and praying were done in vain. Not so. Our Lord heard our prayers. He answered them according to His plan. His Name continues to be glorified and lifted up as the news media tells the story of Ken & his family's faith in Jesus again and again. Ken lived so that Christ would be glorified and Ken died so that Christ would be glorified.

So many are grieving Ken's death - his church family, his co-workers, his wife and children. Ken's little girl grieves. She is young, but she will always remember her dad. She will remember him telling others of Christ while he lived. She will hear stories of how so many heard of Christ in his death.

Ken's daughter will grow up telling others of Christ with compassion and boldness. Someone may one day ask her, "How do you know to do this?" And she will smile and answer simply, "My dad taught me."

From Answers to Questions

2010-12-06T23:33:00.001-05:00

When I was a young mom, I had all the answers. I knew how to schedule my babies from day one. My husband and I were marvels in the church with how we could get our little ones to sit so still for an hour and a half service. Our three year old could recite Romans 12 in its entirety. When people would say, "Just wait until they're teenagers," we would take offense. We just knew that teens only acted badly when it was expected of them. We knew that as long as we did what was right all the time, our children would be just like the kids on the front of all of those homeschooling magazines.

#1. My husband & I don't do, nor have we ever done, what was right all the time.

#2. The kids on the front of those homeschooling magazines have struggles of their own.

Our oldest is now a teenager and his sisters are not far behind. Not only do I no longer have all the answers, I often think that I don't have any answers! Getting our three year old to sit perfectly during church doesn't seem that important anymore. Instead, I pray that God gets a hold of my heart and the heart of my older children.

Let me say now that we are not dealing with major rebellion. There are seeds, though. Probably seeds that are found in every young "plant" in every home. The seeds we were warned about with those "just wait" comments, but refused to believe.

The other night, I was at my wits end. I had no idea what to do anymore. Lectures aren't working. Yelling is obviously not the key, though I keep trying to force it into the lock. Threats prove to be only temporary fixes. So, Saturday night found me in the place where thousands of parents before me have found themselves - on my knees begging God for wisdom.

As a result, today I completed my first 24-hour fast in years. I have always been happy to have the excuse of gestating or lactating to avoid fasting. My body hates it. I always have found myself more distracted by how hungry I am and how badly my head hurts than focused on prayer. Last night and today were different. I was praying for, what basically amounts to, the souls and future of my children. I was praying for myself. My morning prayer resembled Solomon's request. Oh, I desire compassion and love in my heart; but above all, I desire wisdom. Wisdom will change me. Without change in my life, in my attitude, in my actions, my children will never change.

Wisdom will enable me to release control to God. I refuse to make my children follow God. If I make them do so, they are not following God, they are following me. They will follow me right up until they leave our home; then they will follow the devil. I have never been one to make my children read their Bibles. I do tell them often to go read or ask them if they have read, but it is rare that I quiz them on it. I have known many families where reading the Bible is mandatory and the children are as ungodly as the heathen who has never cracked open the Good Book. I was never made to read my Bible - yet it is an important part of my life. I know it is the right thing to do. I know it is an essential part of my walk with the Lord. It is not always what I want to do, but often it is by deepest desire. That is what I want for my children. To WANT God. To want to serve, follow, and obey Him. It is not my desire that they read their Bible or memorize verses out of fear, duty, or even obedience to me.

That is where the wisdom is so direly needed. I need to live and teach in such a way that my children will desire to live for God and to do good and have good character. I need to be a light that shines on a path that, though not always easy, beckons them to follow as well. Oh, I could easily make a list of rules, consequences, schedules, etc., to mandate correct behaviour. However, that is not how God works with me. He won me by His love & grace. I am asking Him for wisdom in exemplifying that same love & grace to my children...His children.

In a way, I am glad I no longer have all the answers. I have come to that time where I now have to lean on the One who does. To those parents who are older than me and knew all along where I would end up, thank you for your patience. To those parents younger than me and think you'll avoid this time...just wait. Someday, you'll get to be held up by our Father's loving arms, too.

Welcome to...My Life

2010-11-24T00:38:00.000-05:00

My 8 year old daughter has a cowboy hat. She wears it once in a while. Most often, though, she likes to see how it looks on the floor. You name the floor, it's been there. For a long time. Days, in fact. Hallway floor, front-room floor, toy-room floor, etc., etc.

I, as a mother, have taken the oath that I will NOT pick up my children's toys or belongings. I, as a mother, have the compulsive need to find out just how long something has to sit around in everyone's way before it is actually taken care of. I, as a mother, get fed up and begin to nag - all the while keeping my promise not to pick up my child's things. Of course, if I DO resort to picking up their possession, it is either to throw it away or hold it for ransom.

Last week, I told my daughter that if I were to find her beloved cowboy hat on the floor again, it would find its way out of the house via the trash can. I am happy to say that she has listened to my words and I have not found it on any floor in our home since.

Tonight, I opened up my spare refrigerator and there, on the bottom shelf, lay the cowboy hat - upside down filled halfway with brussell sprouts.

You think I'm kidding?

Welcome to...my life.

My Teacher, My Friend

2010-11-07T23:04:00.000-05:00

Last night, I met a good friend for coffee. We haven't had a chance to sit down and really talk in YEARS! We see each other here and there, talk for a couple of minutes, catch up a bit on Facebook, etc., but any plans we've attempted to try to get together had been unsuccessful. Such is the way it often goes with moms.

I love friendships that continue and never change no matter if it's years between coffee-dates, etc. I love when you can sit down and pick up right where you've left off. That's how it was for Karen and I. Catching up, laughing, encouraging...it was great.

My friendship with Karen goes back almost twenty years. She was my high-school computer teacher during my 12th-grade year. (This was computer class circa 1990/91 - the age of DOS, floppy discs, and large, square, blinking cursors) Though she was my teacher, she's less than a decade older, she was married just three years, and she was a kid at heart. She was so easy to befriend. Karen wasn't afraid of teenagers. She smiled and talked with us. She wanted to know what was going on - kept up with all the "news". While many adults found the lives of teens unimportant or annoying, Karen loved to hear about our daily lives and struggles as well as the details of our "courtships." I remember standing around talking with her between classes and after school. I remember how tired she was after her first few weeks of teaching. Being born hearing impaired, Karen often used sign language, but also knew how to lip read very well. However, in the first weeks of school she had done more lip-reading than she had done in quite some time and, piling that on top of learning the ways of the school and getting to know many different students results in exhaustion. I think I really began admiring and respecting her when she told me how tired she was, but she kept on smiling and saying how much she loved it!

I remember Eric and I (while we were dating) going out for ice cream (or was it Wendy's?) with Karen and her husband. I can still see her laying her head on his shoulder and him giving his infamous grin. They were the couple I wanted to be someday. They were being an example - a good example - without even trying.

During my senior year and a few years afterwards, there was a door-to-door witnessing ministry on Saturdays. It must have been Karen who asked me to join in this ministry as that was not something I would normally do on my own. She and I were partners and I still have a trinket box she gave me with the name of the ministry engraved on the top. We had a blast on those Saturday mornings knocking on doors and talking with people. She smiled at everyone, greeted them with her boundless energy, and taught me a great deal about sharing the love and joy of Christ. I'll never forget running under lawn sprinklers one sunny Saturday morning. Who ever said ministry was dull and mundane never went door-to-door with Karen!

Our relationship began as teacher/student. Last night, we sat at the table and talked about the joys and challenges of motherhood, homeschooling, exercise, and life. I don't remember any of what Karen taught me in that computer class (maybe because all of it is non-existent today), but her example has formed a part of who I am today. I find that quite a few of my friends are young people with whom I befriended when they were in those awkward years between childhood and adult. I still rest my head on my hubby's shoulder from time to time and remember my teacher & her man as newlyweds. Though it is not often I go door-to-door, I always try to remember to pass out a tract with a smile in order to convey the joy of Christianity - just as Karen taught me years ago. Without knowing it, I have tried to emulate her spirit in many ways in my life - and I am so grateful to her.

She was my teacher for a short time. Karen is my friend for life. Thank you, my friend!

Of Things Matrimonial

2010-11-04T16:56:00.001-04:00

So, the other night as we were sitting around the dinner table, Katrina (our 8 year old) pipes up with the age-old question, "Why do people get married?"

I, looked at her and said, "That's a good question." Turning to my husband, I asked, "Why DID we get married? I forgot!"

Ok - so I was kidding. REALLY!!

Eric chose that time to be the romantic making me look bad. "Because people fall in love!!"

We told the kids that when two people meet and become best friends and can't imagine life without each other, they get married. I realize this is an overly-simplified explanation, but she's eight.

She asked when people are considered engaged and as I was explaining about when the man proposes, Eric got down on one knee proposed - in a overly-dramatic, comical way. Of course, I answered in kind. The idea that our kids have that we're nuts was basically confirmed.

Anyway, while most girls are dreaming of their wedding and the dress, etc., Katrina asks, "Do you have to have a wedding? Then you have to deal with all those people."

Obviously, this is our less sociable child. She's the same one who looks like she's about to crawl under that table every year when the family sings "Happy Birthday" to her.

I don't know where the inspiration came from (I'm pretty sure it was God-given), but I was even fairly impressed with my answer. "Well, after you got saved, you were baptized, right? Couldn't you still be a Christian without being baptized? Of course. But, getting baptized tells everyone around you that you are now a child of God and that you want to serve Him and obey Him the rest of your life. When everyone knows that, you are more accountable for your actions and how you live your Christian life. The same thing goes for a wedding ceremony. It's a way to tell everyone that you love this person and you will only belong to him and love him for the rest of your life." Not bad, eh?

Then, our 8-year old, saved, lifetime church-goer, homeschooled, no TV child asks: "Can you live with the person for a while before you get married just to make sure he's the right one?"

Did I mention that she's also our very logical child?

Without going into the whole fornication aspect, I was able to logically explain that the courtship process will enable a person to observe the prospective spouse in many different situations in which you will find out their true character. Sure, there are issues once you become married and start living in the same house that may have to be worked out; such as, your husband leaving his dirty laundry on the floor instead of putting it in the basket. But, those things can be worked out - even if it's the wife figuring out that it's not worth getting upset about the laundry, picking it up, and just being thankful for an over-all great guy.

I love these unpredictable conversations around the table. Something tells me they'll get even more interesting as the kids get older.

A side benefit - my husband put his dirty laundry in the basket the next day. :)

This Day in History...

2010-10-20T22:45:00.000-04:00

October 20, 2003....I was almost made a widow.

You can read the whole story here & here, but today I have been thinking how different my life would be without my best friend and husband.

1. I would NOT be married. I could not imagine being with anyone other than Eric. He is my first and only boyfriend, so it's REALLY hard for me to imagine. Plus, with five children, who really would want to have married me?

2. I mentioned having FIVE children. I realize I have seven. I was five weeks away from delivering our fifth child. Two of our children would not be in existence today and only two would actually remember their daddy. How my heart would break if my children could not know their wonderful daddy.

3. Since Eric's accident, I have lost my father, Anna has been hospitalized, we've had several trips to the ER, Michael had major surgery, and there's been a divorce in my family. Through all of these things, Eric has held my hand and held me up. Though I know God would have held me up if He had decided to take Eric home, I am so grateful that He chose to leave him here to be my minister of strength.

4. If Eric were no longer here, my children would probably be in public school as I worked a full-time job. Though I often am exhausted with homeschooling, I am so blessed to be able to do it and be home with my family. Who knows what our crazy life would be like?

5. Most of all, I would ache with loneliness. My husband is my best friend in all the world. I remember waiting for Mercy Flight and praying, "Lord, if You take him, I know you'll take care of me. But, Lord...he's my best friend. I don't know how I'll live without my best friend."

Seven years ago, Eric could have died. Today, I drove him to pick up a truck from a field. I HAVE a husband to drive around. Though it's the crazy harvest season and he's exhausted & absent much of the time, he WILL be home.

I don't know how long God will choose to allow us to be together on this earth. I pray it's until we're very old. I do know that I am grateful for the time we have now and the life we have today. Today I am still able to hold hands with my best friend...thanks be to God.

For Gloria Has Sinned...?

2010-10-15T22:58:00.000-04:00

I am going through "Leading Little Ones to God" with my three youngest children, Seth, Gloria, & Zane. It is a really wonderful devotional book that helps little children learn all about the attributes of God and why we need Him in our lives.

Last week, we began the section which speaks about how sin entered the world and the consequences of sin. The devotional, "What it Means to be a Sinner" begins by asking, "Are you naughty sometimes?" Both Gloria & Seth, who have recently accepted Christ as their Savior, answered in the affirmative. When I placed the question before Zane he heartily answered, "No!"

Me: "You're not naughty, Zane?"

Zane: "No. Gloria naughney." *I personally love his pronunciation of the word "naughty."

Me: "Gloria's naughty?"

Zane: "Yes."

Me: "You're not naughty?"

Zane: "No. Gloria naughney."

Me: "What about Michael? Is he naughty?"

Zane: "No."

Me: "Is Cassia naughty?"

Zane: "No."

And on it went through the listing of each one of his siblings. Then, I came to Gloria once again.

Me: "Is Gloria naughty?"

Zane: "No." Quickly realizing what I had asked, changes his answer: "YES!"

He still held firm to the fact that HE was NOT naughty. I believe we have 8 other people in the house willing to testify to the contrary.

At the end of the lesson, we began the review questions. I looked at Gloria and asked, "Gloria, who sins?" Expecting to hear her tell me that everyone sins - a fact that she knows - she says firmly, "ME!"

I guess Zane will preach conviction into the hearts of many - and he's starting with his sister!

Sober Thoughts

2010-10-08T21:47:00.001-04:00

"Zane. Zane. Time to get up."

My three year old, who already had his eyes opened, turned over on his back and looked up at me from his bed.

"O-tay," he said.

"You're going with Mommy & Daddy today. The doctor is going to fix your eyes."

"O-tay."

Telling a three year old in advance about any upcoming surgery is usually pointless. At least, this three year old. How does one prepare a 30 pound, 2 1/2 foot child about going to sleep and waking up in pain...but that it's all for the best?

Crossed eyes is hereditary in my family. My aunt was born with it and began wearing glasses at 18 months of age. Each of my nephews has it and Zane was diagnosed a few months ago. In our son's case, the doctor does not believe he was born with it, but it developed over time. Zane wore glasses throughout the summer, but his eye appointment at the end of August proved the glasses to be ineffectual. Surgery would be needed.

"No big deal," I thought. At least we wouldn't have to deal with the patching all of my nephews, my brother, and so many of our friends' children have had to deal with. Anesthesia? That's old hat in this family as our oldest son has "gone under" twice. Sure, Zane was younger and a different temperment, so I knew that a lot of crying (and possible screaming) would be involved when he awoke, but, again, no big deal. The chances of someone dying under anesthesia are far smaller than the chances of getting in an automobile accident. I AM NOT a paranoid mother. The surgery itself was not a concern. In and out. Michael had a life-threatening 10 hour surgery with a stay in the PICU and hospital for almost a week. Seriously, this was looking like a picnic in the park.

Until now. Zane's smile, his toddling steps down the stairs, and his innocence all began to tug at my heart on this morning of surgery. As I put on Zane's shirt I prayed, "Lord, please don't let this be the last time I get Zane up and ready in the morning." On the outside I was smiling and acting like we were just going to have a fun outing. On the inside, I was consciously jotting down every moment in case something happened and Zane did not come home with us. Morbid, I know. Just the kind of foolishness I usually laugh at. But, I guess a mother is a mother - no matter how many times she has been through various situations and how "logical" she has become.

Zane got to pick out a toy when we got to the surgical center. He enjoyed playing with his new truck while the doctors, nurses, and anesthesiologists spoke with us. With my cell phone, I took a picture of his wide, toothless, cheesy grin. My cross-eyed baby. Then, the anesthesiologist picked him up and walked away with him.

"Mommy?" Zane says looking over the doctor's shoulder with his arm outstretched.

I sat there trying to hold back my tears. Zane didn't cry - he was a trooper. I wouldn't look at Eric as I felt like an idiot for crying. Seriously, this was minor surgery. Zane's doctor does dozens of these every week. No big deal. So, why did it feel like I was laying Zane upon the same altar I had lain Michael on two years ago?

Because it was the same altar.

Subconsciously, we moms know that our children may not be here until our old age. But, we don't let that fear rule our life or theirs. If we did, they would never leave the house and we would be miserable failures as parents. But, some days, the realization that we are not promised tomorrow with our little ones stares us right in the face. It is on those occassions, that I give them over to my Lord once again. I trust that His will is perfect - whether I hear that precious "o-tay" again or not.

Less than half an hour later, I was holding and rocking my crying Zane-man. I sang to him through my tears. I had had nothing to worry about; not because the success ratio was so high - but because my God was in control all along.

Though it is the rare case that children do not survive these minor procedures, there are cases where parents go home with an empty car-seats and hearts broken beyond belief. There are mothers that I know personally and that I have prayed for but never met, that have lost their children unexpectedly. It is only by the grace of God that they take each breath. They laid their children on the altar as I have. Whereas my children were allowed down off the altar (so far), their children were accepted into the arms of Christ. It is with that realization that my tears flowed when Zane was in surgery. I know in my heart that God's grace would be given, but oh how it must ache.

To the mother who has lost a little one: I am no one. But, I pray for you and many like you. You are a hero to me for going on with life each day. Thank you for your example and proving to moms like me that, if we ever have to take the same path you are following, God will pick us up and carry us down it.

A Visit with Officer Friendly

2010-09-06T00:37:00.000-04:00

Recently, I was on my way to pick up my mom so she could get some paper work done for a new car she bought. She was waiting for me at a store across the street from the car dealership and I was in a hurry. What's new? I was driving a stretch of road that I drive about 4 times a week. The speed limit is 35 mph., but I usually go a *little* faster than that until I reach the top of one particular hill. This day, however, I continued my speed until I went over the crest of said hill. That's when I saw it.

A police car.

I slowed down and passed by and immediately he pulled out behind me. My stomach sank. Yet, as his lights didn't turn on, I figured maybe I was worrying for naught. I waited at the red-light eying Officer Friendly behind me the entire time. The light turned green and his lights flashed red.

All this within my mother's sight. Thirty-seven years old and I still dreaded my mother's scolding over the police officer's.

I pulled over and immediately began searching for my license and registration. I found the former, but not the latter. I also remembered the conversation my husband and I had the day before about the registration needing to be renewed as it was closed to being overdue. The officer came to the window and asked for both the items I was looking for. He looked at the registration on the window and mentioned that it had expired. No surprise there. The conversation proceeded as follows:

Officer Friendly: Do you know why I pulled you over?

Me: I was speeding.

OF: Do you know how fast you were going?

Me: About 55.

OF: I clocked you at 59 mph. Do you know what the speed limit is back there?

Me: 35 mph.

OF: What's your license look like?

Me: Clean - never had a ticket.

OF: So, when I check it there will be no surprises?

Me: No, sir.

He also hinted that as I was so far over the speed limit, there was little chance he'd be able to let me off. I knew I deserved whatever I got. I didn't cry or get mad - just answered his questions honestly and with a smile. Yes, a smile. I figure that police officers deal with enough angry and distraught people every day and I didn't see why I should make this poor guy miserable for something I honestly had done wrong.

As I waited for my ticket, I texted my husband. Might as well let him know now. While many husbands would have been upset, the response I got was, "Are you ok?" My husband is awesome.

I spent the rest of the time sweating over what my mother would say.

Officer Friendly came back to the van.

OF: This would put 6 points on your license and your insurance would go through the roof. But, 30 miles over the speed limit...that's tough. I'm going to give you this (a ticket) for your registration being expired and nothing for the speeding. It won't show up on your license. You could come to court and argue it, but seeing as I'm not giving you a speeding ticket....

Me: No, sir! I'll send it in and pay the fine. Thank you very much....

And everything YOU would probably say if he had let you off almost scott-free!

In a way, I think it worked out that our registration was overdue as he almost HAD to ticket me for something. If it weren't the registration, then he would have probably knocked a few mph off my speed, but I still would have ended up with a speeding ticket that would have put points on my license. Procrastination is not always a good thing, but, in this case...When I went home I immediately got on the computer to renew our registration. You know when it expired? The day before. Hmmm.....

I also think my honesty and the fact that I have had a clean license for my entire driving career (19 1/2 years) helped a lot, as well. My son later pointed out that I have been pulled over before. I kindly mentioned that the officer hadn't asked me that. Ahem...

My brother said the Lord wouldn't have allowed me to get a ticket as I was on my way to help our mother. And, he and my husband both said that thing about pretty girls, etc. Whatever.

In the end, whatever the reason, I am thankful to God and to the kind police officer for not giving me
what I deserved. I have experienced so much mercy in my lifetime, yet I could never put into words my gratitude.

I turned my van back on, pulled into the parking lot where my mother was waiting and braced myself as she entered the vehicle.

"I am so sorry," she begins. That's it. Nothing but compassion.

No ticket. No scolding. That's what I call a good day.

Good-bye, Facebook Friends

2010-08-25T08:34:00.000-04:00

A couple of days ago, I came to a conclusion that I believe the Lord has been leading me to for quite some time. I actually fought it for a while, but I was ready to stop fighting. At the risk of offending many very good and dear friends - true friends - I removed many of my "friends" on Facebook. Let me make it clear that no one had offended me in any way. If any one looked at the people I removed and the people I kept, they would be hard-pressed to find any rhyme or reason to my method.

I am a very social person and I love to know about people, what makes them happy, sad, etc. This makes Facebook both a blessing and a curse. The fact that it takes so much of my time makes it more curse than blessing. Here's a typical scenario: "I'm just going to go on FB and post this really cool thought to my status. Hmm...let me see what's going on with so-and-so. I'll just quick check the other updates. What?! That person is expecting? Let's just add a congrats comment, here. Aww...their kids are sick. That's too bad. Oh, while I'm here, I might as well see if there've been any pictures posted from today's picnic. After all, it has been 3 hours since it ended..." The next thing I know, an hour has passed and I have accomplished nothing.

Truly, do I need to know everything about everybody?   Do I need to know so-and-so is going to yet another birthday party? Do I need to know that their child blinked 5,032 times yesterday? Do I need to know every single detail about every single issue in every single person's life? Don't get me wrong - I do care about people. I rejoice with those that do rejoice and weep with them that weep. I have just come to realize that people have done that for thousands of years without social networking.

For months, I've heard husbands make fun of Facebook and pastors preach about it (not necessarily "against" but definitely messages of warning). I would defend it to my own conscience as a social outreach for those of us ladies who "stay at home" all day (though, there are very few of us on Facebook who actually do this). It was better than being on the phone all day, right? Really? I began to see the point these men were trying to make. (In case you didn't realize this - men actually have good insight on most things!) A lot of what goes on through Facebook is silly. It seems to be resembling more and more I Timothy 5:13 - "And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busy-bodies, speaking things which they ought not." Many of us on Facebook are not saying things we ought not say, but maybe our words are idle. Most of us are wandering from house to house via cyberspace.   Knowing what's going on in everyone's life makes me feel like a busy-body. It got to the point I began to feel physically nauseated by the whole thing. By Saturday night, I knew what I had to do...remove the majority of my friends.

Usually, when people remove "friends" on Facebook, they remove those who have offended them in some way - either through words, pictures, or lifestyle. This was not the case with anyone I removed. I removed very dear friends of mine. I honestly removed all but one person I attend church with (a young person whose parents appreciate my input) as well as several other good friends whom I see on a regular basis. If I want to know what is going on in their lives or them to know what's happening with me, we can talk in person. I removed those whom I am "friends" with on Facebook but never say more than "hello" to when I see them in person. If I'm not going to take the time to really know them in person, I feel a bit fake for knowing all aspects of their life. I actually like seeing someone I haven't seen in a while, NOT knowing all of their life's happenings, and having a great chat just getting "caught up." So, that is why I even removed some friends who live in the area, but I only see once in a while.

So, who did I keep? Those friends and missionaries who live out of state or country. I kept my best friend who has been a part of my life since I was born (literally) and I kept my brothers and sister-in-law. I kept a couple of in-town friends that have been a part of my life for a long time and because their status updates are often spiritually thought-provoking. One friend mentioned how I was a spiritual encouragement to many and a testimony to the lost so I should reconsider. My Christian friends can live without my 2-cents, but, because of this sweet friend's advice, I did keep two people whom I know are lost and I do have some part in their real lives. Many of the people I kept aren't even on Facebook a lot, which is a blessing.

I ended up eliminating over 150 people and still keeping 99 friends. I find that my time has been freed up tremendously and, because I'm no longer updating my status 5 times a day, I have the desire to write things of worth again. Ok, maybe not worth much, but at least longer than 10 words.

If you were a friend whom I removed and you are in any way hurt, I am sorry. I had no intention of hurting anyone. My Facebook photos, my photo page, and this blog are still open to anyone to view and comment. One may say, as I did, "But Facebook is a great way to give and receive prayer requests." I will still receive prayer requests and such through other means of communication...such as, face to face conversation, a phone call, texting, or e-mail.

This decision may not be for everyone at this time. But, I really believe it's what the Lord wanted of me. It actually was very difficult to remove those I love, but, in reality - REALITY - I did not. They are still very much a part of my LIFE - my face to face real life - and I am ever so grateful for that.

Welcome to...My Life (again)

2010-08-16T14:56:00.001-04:00

I just got done calling a bunch of people I don't know for a party I'm not throwing.

What? Don't you do that?

The party is actually a picnic my husband is giving a certain soon-to-be-groom. Eric is the best man in his wedding and is hosting the picnic. As the wife and secretary of an adorably handsome guy who HATES making phone calls, I get to call all of these guys whom I've never met.

Let's just say....I hope I never have to do THAT again.

Call #1: I accidentally called the guy's wife's phone and got their daughter. A daughter who has the skill to make you feel like an idiot in about 30 seconds flat. She finally got her mom on the phone. What's the saying? "Like mother like daughter?" Yeah. I got the impression that she was a bit miffed HER husband wasn't the best man. So sorry.

Call #2: Nice guy, but at first seemed to think this was a "bachelor party." I made sure he knew that this was not a typical bachelor bash as we are Christians and there would be no drinking, etc. He kindly let me know that Jesus drank. Wasn't expecting that theological monkey-wrench...

Call #3: Guy with a heavy Italian accent who asked me to repeat all the info to him and then was pretty sure his wife had a shower to go to for their daughter so the both of them wouldn't be able to make it. This after I said twice that it was a picnic for all the GUYS. My mistake, I'm sure, but the third time in 8 minutes that I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

The last two calls were great - especially as I only had to leave a message for one of them.

Remind me never to plan a bachelor party...er, groom's picnic...again.

Welcome to...my life.

Welcome to...My Life

2010-08-09T23:26:00.000-04:00

A note I texted to our dog this morning after I found the "gift" he left for me. (Ok, so I texted it to his beloved master, my husband. I'm sure he relayed the message.)
Dear Hunter,
Next time you decide to gag up a bone along with some grass, and whatever other digestive juices, please don't do it next to my couch. Thank you.

When I spotted it, our 5 year old, Gloria, said she thought her sister Katrina had done it. I told her what the contents were and, therefore, I didn't believe it was Katrina. Her response? "Katrina eats lots of grass."

Welcome to my life.

The Bowl

2010-07-30T10:14:00.000-04:00

Last night, my son made chocolate chip cookies. My, are they GOOD!!! One of the best surprises was that he actually cleaned up after himself!

Ok, well, "cleaned-up" is relative. To some people, there was still a bit more to clean. But, for him - it was a huge step in the right direction.

This morning, as I was emptying the dish strainer, I came across the mixing bowl he had used. The inside was clean enough, but the outside still had dried cookie dough and had that scummy look and feel to it. Obviously, it had to be washed again.

While I was re-washing the mixing bowl, I began to think. Why was I washing it? The INSIDE was clean. It was just the OUTSIDE that was dirty. We don't use the outside, so I should only be concerned with what is on the inside of the bowl. So, I stopped cleaning it and put the bowl away. What a waste of time to be so picky.

You don't think I did that? Why not? Wouldn't you? It's just the outside. It's what's inside that counts and that was clean.

Isn't that how most Christians today think? The oft quoted verse, "Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart" is often used to defend a person's "right" to dress and look anyway he/she wants to look. It only matters what is in the heart.

Like the bowl, a Christian may have a pure heart that loves the Lord and desires to serve Him. Yet, on the outside, he looks just like the unclean vessels around him. The average person would not be able to pick him out of a crowd as he looks just like the crowd. On closer inspection, one sees that he is clean and different...on the inside. Can he be used? Of course. But does God get that same sick feeling using him as we would get when using a bowl that's clean on the inside but still carrying last night's food remnants on the outside?

Why did I opt to clean the bowl? Because I knew with the bowl clean on the inside AND the outside, I would get optimal results in my next batch of cookies. I would not risk dirtying any other dish it touched. In order for God to get optimal results from me, I must be clean inside and out. I must stand out from the pile of dirty dishes and be sparkling clean. If I am being used effectively by God, I AM touching other dirty vessels. I must allow Him to wash me with the water of His Word daily if I am indeed being used daily. And, I must keep my eyes open to make sure that my outside isn't being changed to look like those around me. Why would a clean dish want to look like a dirty dish? If I would not use the ungodly as a model for my inside, why would I use them for a model for my outward appearance?

The outside DOES matter to God. Does he use us without hesitation or does he have to close His eyes when He reaches for us because of our dirty exterior? Clean your vessel - inside and outside.

Oh, and I DID re-wash the bowl completely. :)

The Little Things...

2010-07-27T21:42:00.000-04:00

...like the Cleveland Browns and Winston Lights.

Neither are things that are spiritual. I don't even care for football and I've never smoked cigarettes. But, whenever I see the emblem of the Cleveland Browns or hear the name "Winston" (I don't think they even make Winston Lights anymore), I feel a tug on my heart.

Both bring my father a little closer to me.

My dad loved the Cleveland Browns. No disrespect to the dead, but for his love of the game, he had absolutely no taste in teams. As I've already stated, I don't follow football. But, I do keep nominal track of the teams my loved ones follow. Anyone who even owns a radio will know that the Cleveland Browns have not been a good football team in over 30 years. But, they were the team my daddy loved.

My dad smoked Winston Lights for as long as I knew him. Though I don't care for the smell of cigarette smoke, often, the smell will bring me fond recollections of times with my dad. The memory of sitting around the table with my dad and his girlfriend's family at Christmas as they all smoked actually gives me a strangely happy nostalgic feeling. Thankfully, there are no signs of second-hand smoke damage.

My dad was more than football teams and cigarettes. He was jokes, belly laughs, and fun. But, I will hear no voice that sounds like his telling jokes. I will not hear another laugh like his. Many people have many types of fun. But, the sight of the Cleveland Browns emblem and the name of Winston makes my father seem closer. I don't believe in signs or messages from the dead, but, in a way, when I see these things, I feel he's sending me a smile.

It's the little things.

For the Record...

2010-06-20T23:53:00.002-04:00

I believe that there are instances when a man or woman needs to leave their spouse due to types of abuse.

For the record, I do not believe divorce should be an option for the Christian. Seperation, yes. Divorce, no. In a situation where the non-Christian spouse leaves the Christian, then there is nothing that can be done about that.

For the record, I believe God forgives them who seek forgiveness for bad decisions - such as divorce.

For the record, I have thought about the things I've said so far and do not care to debate these things at this time. Maybe another time.

For the record, I don't believe just because one party apologizes for continued bad behaviour, the other party should automatically put themselves back in what could be a harmful situation. Some people live better apart. (However, see #2.)

For the record, I believe there are VERY FEW one-fault instances of separation and divorce.

For the record, I don't believe it is ever too late for counseling. Those who say it's too late probably need it the most. Again, even if it's to settle things and learn to live apart without destroying relationships around them.

For the record, if a couple needs to separate, relationships between children and grandchildren ought to be encouraged to continue & grow (if that is the desire of the children) unless those children will truly be in harm's way.

For the record, I don't believe people ought to be forced to choose sides when friends or family members separate or divorce.

For the record, I don't believe being polite to both sides equates choosing sides.

For the record, I believe a person may disagree with one or both parties & disapprove of certain actions, character qualities, etc., but still be kind and polite to that person (or persons).

For the record, I hate divorce and the division it often causes among family and friends.

For the record, children of divorce, no matter how calm they look on the outside, deal with anger towards the situation & even their parents.

For the record, I am glad there is a Father these children can go to and lay down their anger, sorrow, and frustrations.

Just...for the record.

Not his mother, but his lover

2010-06-15T17:01:00.000-04:00

This past Sunday, my pastor preached yet another awesome message. However, equally as awesome are his bunny-trails. He got to talking about how wives are not to be their husbands' mother. (Don't worry, he got on the men about things, too.) If I were the shouting-in-church-kind I probably would have had a minor shouting fit. In a good way.

One of the things that irritates me most in this life is hearing a woman treat her husband as if he were a 10 year old. Have you ever watched even one episode of Jon & Kate plus Eight? She is the extreme case in point. Not to condone Jon or any other husband who cheats on his wife, but that is the epitomy of the contentious wife who drives her husband to the corner of the housetop. Men need to be treated as men, not as boys.

And, don't give me, "well, I'll stop treating him like a boy when he stops acting like one." Maybe he'll start romancing you as a woman when you start acting like one!

Sorry, got in the flesh there a bit.

I know none of my readers ever tell their man what to do - whether it be household chores, how to take care of a child, how to dress, how to drive, or how to treat you. I know I never have. *cough*

Ok. I lied. There have been a few times when I've treated my husband like a young boy without a clue. I've disapproved of his clothes. I've disapproved of his driving. I've disapproved of his timing in getting a job done. When I open my mouth and tell him what to do or how he could improve I have no romantic feelings toward my sweetheart. I feel prideful, frustrated, or angry. Quite frankly, I don't like myself. I hate sounding like a drill sergeant to my children and I really hate sounding like one to the man whom I'm supposed to cherish. I know for a fact he isn't feeling really mushy & gooshy when I treat him that way, either.

I can honestly say that I rarely nag or tell my husband what to do or how to do it. Two reasons:
1. I want to keep our relationship sweet
2. My husband, though a steady, easy-going guy, is not going to listen to his wife give him orders. He is much more responsive to reasonable and well-placed requests.

If I treated my man like a child on a regular basis, our relationship would sour and we would be irritated with each other most of the time. However, it is sad to say that many women in this day, Christian and non-Christian alike, take on more of a motherly role than that of a wife to their husbands, A woman will treat her husband like a child and then complain that there is no more romance in their marriage. She wonders why he no longer treats her as the princess he once did when they were dating. He no longer has the woman of his dreams, he has mom #2. Not very romantic.

Ever have a woman tell you "you need to tell your husband to do [such-and-such]"? I have. Before following her unwise advice, take a look at her marriage and how she treats her husband. Most often, a woman who is telling you to order your husband around is doing the same thing in her marriage and you will rarely find sweetness in that type of situation. You will find a discontented, bossy wife with a discontented & often angry man. There will be few, if any, shows of affection between the two and you won't see them having very many deep, intimate conversations. Be careful of being fooled by advice from a "strong" woman who advises you to demand things from your husband and tells you that he should listen to you.

I've seen it many times. The more a woman "mothers" her husband, the further the distance becomes between the once-madly-in-love-couple. She picks out his clothes, tells him how to hold or play with their child, tells him what chores he needs to get done, etc. If it makes my stomach turn, imagine how that husband feels.

Wife, don't nit-pick. Let him do things his way and in his time. FYI - just because he doesn't do it your way or in your time doesn't mean he's wrong! Yes, you can ask more than once for something to be done - key word being ASK.

I will ask Eric to do something and won't mention it again for weeks. I've been advised to TELL him to get something done. That will get me no where. Just as I desire (and get) patience and understanding from him, I give it in return. If it's 90 degrees outside, I would love for my a/c to be put in. But, if he's harvesting wheat for 15 hours a day, I'm not going nag him every day or demand that he do it RIGHT NOW. He hasn't forgotten and usually the a/c will be put in once he sees me passed out on the floor. Yes, it will take patience. Yes, you may feel inner frustration. But, he will see your patience (usually) and will appreciate your kindness and trust in him. If it's weeks or months before the job gets done, instead of saying, "It's about time" just say "thank you" and give him a kiss, a hug, and make him a special dinner, dessert, or just pour him a cold drink. You'll make him glad he did something for you and the romance will stay alive.

They say that mothering is the hardest job in the world. Being a wife is a lot more fun. He has a mother. She told him what to do, how to dress, how to act, etc., during his childhood years. You're his lover. Love him as the man he is now.

A New Blog

2010-06-08T17:27:00.002-04:00

For those of you who would rather just read my deep, thought-provoking posts and not be bothered with a bunch of pathetic photographs; for those of you who would rather not read my silly, mundane posts but just look at some awesome shots; for those of you who would like to do both, but in a more organized way - I present to you my new photo blog:

Our View photography

Photo Challenge: "Play"

2010-06-07T20:45:00.006-04:00

(a photo challenge from i heart faces Thanks, Jenna & Rebecca!)

More fun than playing is watching my children play. Tonight, my boys built a block tower. I played with my camera.

Blocked view

Foto Friday (a day late): Happy

2010-06-05T20:50:00.005-04:00

So, I've wanted to join Rebecca's "Foto Friday" for quite some time. I was feeling badly that I wasn't posting this until now (Saturday night), but I just saw that our dear hostess posted late, as well. However, it figures. I finally enter this thing and she just announced that she is hosting her FINAL one next week! Story of my life! SO, if any of you know of any other photo challenges, please let me know.

With this week's theme being "happy" I figured there was no easier and better time to take part! As Memorial Day was Monday filled with parades & a picnic, it wasn't difficult to capture images of happiness. So, without further ado, my first Foto Friday entries...

Happy to be riding in our church's float in the city's Memorial Day Parade

Abe Lincoln was happy to join us for the morning

A father & son happy to be reunited

Happy to serve his country

Moms can be happy, too!

No comment necessary

I'm happy he's mine!

The Memorial Service of Carissa Ireland

2010-06-03T23:18:00.000-04:00

I am on my way to Carissa Ireland's memorial service. I have Abigail Miller's cd, "I Can Go In" playing. As I listen to the title song the thought occurs to me that this song would be perfect for Carissa's service. I can just imagine Carissa entering into heaven with the many sinners washed in blood & justified by faith. What a comfort it would be to the hearts of the Christians that would be in attendance and what a witness to the many lost, as well. Well, whatever music has been chosen is God's will and He will use it.

I enter into the church building that Carissa often entered when in New York. The church where she saw old friends and where she witnessed her sister get married not quite a year and a half ago. There is my current pastor hugging my former pastor. There are many other familiar and friendly faces. The atmosphere is somber, but not depressed. Laughter can be heard from time to time and smiles are numerous. The aftermath of the shock is still subtly felt.

I take my seat in the upper half of the sanctuary. I observe many people enter, hug one another, find a seat, and settle in. The sanctuary fills to near capacity in 30 minutes. My brother, sister-in-law and two of their children make their way towards me and we sit together.

Music has been playing. Beautiful instrumental hymns. Hymns that Carissa probably listened to hundreds of times in her twenty years. Hymns she sang, played, and loved. With little fanfare, the family enters the sanctuary. We almost do not notice, but one by one, we realize they are taking their seats to say their "final" good-bye to their daughter, sister, sister-in-law, niece, grand-daughter, cousin. To the one they all could not help but love and cannot help but miss deeply.

The screens in front light up and pictures of a sweet baby girl appear. Then, I cannot believe it. As the recorded music begins, I hear the piano introduction. It is Abigail Miller's "I Can Go In." The song God would have begin this service. Just a small gift to an insignificant member in the crowd. The song is sung in it's entirety as we watch Carissa grow up before our eyes - a happy baby, a sweet little girl, a beautiful young woman. It almost seems surreal. Is she REALLY gone? The last picture is on the screen as Abigail holds out the final words. It is a profile picture of Carissa. She is smiling widely, her hands our semi-outstretched, and she is looking slightly upward. Is this how she looked as she entered into heaven just a week and a half ago?

Pastor Gary Sauer walks up to the podium. He and his wife have been friends with the Irelands for as long as the Irelands have been a part of FBBC. His voice cracks many times as he welcomes us and the family. He asks the family to take a moment to look around at the filled sanctuary. It is a tribute to Carissa and to them - so many lives they have touched throughout the years. So many souls who love them.

We sing some favorite hymns of the faith. From my seat, I can clearly see the Ireland family. We sing "It is Well With My Soul" and I watch. Robin's hand flies in the air as we sing the last verse - "And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight..." That day has become more dear to her. How she looks forward to seeing her daughter again. She is rejoicing in this promise. My tears begin. We then sing Carissa's favorite song, "This World is Not My Home." The joy filling this place is amazing. This is truly a celebration!

A short video is now going to be shown. Ah! I recognize it from the facebook page remembering the lives of Carissa & Irina. This particular video was taken in Ukraine. It shows a group of young people standing in a circle singing "This World is Not My Home" in Ukrainian. They are clapping and singing with their whole hearts. There's Carissa. Her smile is a light as she sings with exuberance. There's a look exchanged between Carissa & her sister Coleen which makes their smiles even bigger - a private joke or something to be certain. We see in this short video a sisterly bond, a bond of love between brethren, and the love of Christ.

Nancy Curran - a woman with so much grace in times like these - sings a song written by another missionary wife. The song speaks of how awesome the moment is when we look upon Jesus' face. I think of how Carissa must have felt at that moment. Does that feeling ever go away in heaven? I think not. We will have our moment one day, too.

Pastor Bob Brado, who has been introducing the various parts of the memorial service walks behind the podium once again. It is time for the eulogies. As I looked at the "program" before the service, I saw "eulogies" listed, but not who would be giving them. I am curious. My heart jumps when Pastor Brado mentions that three of the Ireland children would be the first to speak. How will they do it? The grace of God.

The youngest sister is first. She has been crying throughout most of this service already. My heart is breaking for this sweet little girl old enough to know that she will never see her sister on earth again, but young enough to not really be able to comprehend any of it except for the horrible ache in her heart. She speaks of how she loved her sister because she would bring her and the other children gifts and candy whenever she came home (to Ukraine). She loved when Carissa would call on Saturdays just to talk with the kids. They loved sharing a room with Carissa although her hair (which was waist-long) was "all over the place". We laugh with her through our tears as she reads to us through hers. The broken-hearted young girl finishes - "But, most of all, I loved Carissa because she loved me." I am choking down my sobs at this very moment. Oh to go down and just give that baby a hug. But, her big brother is holding her up right now. They are leaning on one another as their oldest sister stands behind the podium.

Jennifer speaks eloquently of Carissa. How beautiful and sweet she was. She uses the analogy of a flower. She mentions how Carissa was seemingly taken too early, but God knew exactly when to transplant her into His garden where she will bloom forever. The grace and peace of God is evident on Jennifer.

Michael Jr. walks to the podium. He is strong, but his grief is evident. Unlike his sisters, he has no paper to read from. He speaks as his heart fills. He speaks so much like his father - with passion looking at the audience with eyes full of intensity. He tells us of the time that he and Carissa were in Florida with their grandparents. They had played in the water and on the beach all day and now they were sitting in the sand with their feet being washed by the water. Carissa reached over and held his hand (he wasn't crazy about that at the time). She said, "Mikey, I wish mom and dad could be here. They would love it." Then he tells us, "The she said, 'Mikey, I love you.' I just want everyone to know, I loved my sister. I loved her very much." The three walk off the platform together. It is silent.

Pastor Brado introduces four college friends of Carissa's from PCC. One has been appointed by the group to speak. There are two boys and two girls. The dark-haired girl is the one who approaches the podium. She tells of how she stayed in her room the first two days of her freshman year and just cried. She didn't think she'd make any friends. Then she told us how Carissa came to her room and became her first friend. She tells us that she lost her own mother to suicide a year and a half ago. She didn't think she'd ever make it back to college due to the emotional and financial stress. But, Carissa was famous for two sayings - "Jehova Jireh" (the Lord will provide) and "We have a big God." Carissa would say those things to her friend all the time - even times when her friend did not want to be reminded. But, when she said she wouldn't make it back to school, Carissa told her, "We have a big God. You're coming back and we will graduate together." She made it back. Carissa meant so much to this group of friends and to the many friends she had at PCC.

Now, Pastor Brado walks back to the podium. He tells us that Irina McEntee's family is here. Her service was two days ago. The three remaining family members all walk up onto the platform. Mr. McEntee seems to be a business man - well groomed, well spoken, and kind. He tells us that he didn't know Carissa long, but the friends from PCC described her perfectly. He says that the first morning in Maine, he was sitting at the table reading his Bible when Carissa came down. She asked him if she could call him "Uncle ---" and he said that would be fine. She then went to read her own Bible on the rocks outside. Later that morning, the girls were talking at breakfast. Irina was telling Carissa of all the "treasures" she had collected on the island. Many buoys would wash up on shore and she had collected many of them. Irina told Carissa of the time when she was a young girl and she had found a muffler and her parents saw her dragging it down the street homeward. So many "treasures." The girls laughed. Mr. McEntee speaks of picking up the girls from the Boston airport and the conversation during the 100 miles to their summer home in Maine. The girls spoke of the kids back at college - what boys liked what girls and vice versa. They spoke about who they liked and who liked them. The McEntees listened to that for 100 miles!:) Mr. McEntee said he then realized that the girls' treasures had changed from buoys & mufflers to boys. They were growing up. Then he says that now they have found their greatest treasure - Christ in heaven. As he speaks, his wife looks tired and wipes her eyes often. Their youngest son, Nick, stands with his arm around his mother. This family has lost 2 children/siblings in a year's time. The grief is unimaginable to me. Mr. McEntee stands like a rock. His family must be leaning hard on God at this time for there is nothing else to lean on. I quietly pray for them...again.

Pastor Bob Brado and his daughter are the last to eulogize. They speak of their friendship with the Irelands and of their time in Ukraine. They speak of how Carissa truly was godly and lived for Him. Their eulogies, like the rest, make us laugh and they make us cry.

This time includes eulogies sent via video from those in Ukraine who loved her. Carissa's mom has spent time doing the voice-over to interpret what they say. The look of grief on their faces is intense. They are in shock. They are sad. But, in each eulogy, they mention the same thing their Christian brothers & sisters here in America have said - they trust God and His timing.We are half a world apart, but we feel the same pain, we trust the same God, we love the same family.

Another song is now being sung; again about the moment when we will bow before Christ. These songs are specifically chosen by the Ireland family obviously because they desire to focus more on the joy Carissa must now be experiencing rather than their deep sorrow.

The song has ended. I see Pastor George Grace walk up the steps and to the podium. The pastor I grew up with. The Ireland's pastor. The pastor that lives up to his name - grace. Through experience, I know that the message he will bring in a moment will bring encouragement, hope, tears, and smiles. He is saying that he has two types of messages - the kind where he takes a really long time to say not much of anything and the kind where he takes a short time to say as much as he possibly can. :) He'll do the shorter tonight/ He tells us about the hope that Carissa had. He tells us of her godliness. He tells us that we ought to love one another as brethren, for, if we cannot love each other how will we ever love the lost? Carissa loved. He leads an invitation. I wonder how many are praying right now to be saved. I am praying that many are inviting Christ into their hearts and that they will let the Ireland family know so that they will be able to rejoice in this time.

One more song. The man who is about to sing is explaining to us that the song has a story. Carissa sang this song with a choir at PCC and she absolutely loved it. She obtained the sheet music for it and had been practicing it on the piano and had been working on translating it. It seems she was looking forward to presenting it to her loved ones back in Ukraine. When Mike & Robin found out that Carissa had entered into heaven, they asked for the music to be found. It was in Carissa's luggage. He begins to sing:

"Blessed Be the Name of the Lord."

As the sun rose that morning on the day of Job's trials,
He rose up to serve God as any other day;
Bound and determined to live in God's favor,
And nothing would stand in his way.

But then the messengers came one by one with their story,
In just a few moments Job lost all he had;
Great wealth and riches the health of his body,
And even his children were dead.

The Lord giveth, he taketh away,
Blessed be the name of the Lord;
I served him before and I'll serve him today,
Blessed be the name of the Lord...

I am listening and I am in amazement at how this song not only speaks of Job, but of Carissa and her family. They rose on a morning just like any other. They went about their business of serving the Lord just as they have these last 20-plus years.. Then, they received a phone call - their daughter was missing. Another call - the kayaks were found but not the girls. Then the call each parent dreads - your daughter is gone. They cry. They hold onto one another. They look to heaven and repeat the words of God's servant Job. They grieve, but still serve. They grieve, but still praise their loving Father. They grieve, but continue to be a light shining for all who watch.

"Lord, Carissa had a plan for this song. You had a different plan. How could she ever have known that she would never perform this song in Ukraine but that You would be glorified through it in a service remembering her and her love for You? I don't understand, but blessed be Your name."

My current pastor is the last to walk to the podium. He is to lead us in a final prayer. He speaks of the girl who looked just like her mother. He tells us of how he visited their family in Ukraine when Carissa was just 10 years old. She took him to the market and while he was quite nervous, she had great boldness. He tells us how he recently was in Florida and had taken her to lunch and walked away amazed at how she just exuded God. He introduces a short video to us. She will not be seen in this video, but we are to listen to what are, in a sense, her last words to her parents. My heart jumps a beat. I heard that she had sent her parents a multi-media message of the island she and Irina would be kayaking to. Is this it? Is this going to be a bit much for all of our emotions? The clip begins. It is dark and there is a humming noise in the background. We hear Carissa's sweet voice. She focuses on Irina and tells her to say hi to her family. They must be on an evening boat ride. I hear her say something and the video stops short just as my mind was processing what she said. Pastor comes back to the podium. "Did you catch what she said? She said, 'Mom & Dad, you would love it here...' "

She is saying the same thing now - "You would love it here."

Please pray for the Ireland & McEntee families as they continue to grieve & lean heavily on their Heavenly Father at this time. May they never doubt our love for them.

All in a Week

2010-05-19T23:29:00.000-04:00

The girls said "good-bye" to a special friend the other day. They gave him a better home.

He was the first kitten my daughter successfully rescued.

Got new windows.

Took my daughter's picture for her final scrapbooking class.

Went to a party at a friend's farm on Sunday.

Same photo, different effects.

Such a lack of manners. You'd think that goat was raised in a barn!

There were trucks, too...

...and a hammock...

...and a cute guy I know.

My Heritage

2010-05-18T09:59:00.000-04:00

I guess the next set of pictures could be viewed as morbid, but I took them mainly for the sake of my heritage. My great-grandmother died at a young age as did my grandfather and, therefore, I never met them.

My grandmother passed away when I was two years old. I am grateful for the one memory I have of her. She was in the hospital after having her leg amputated due to complications from diabetes. I clearly remember a peaceful smile on her face as she told me that Jesus was with her.

My one and only memory and it's a legacy to hold on to.

Note - I am posting straight-from-the-camera shots and then the edited version (if any). I have my reasons.:)

My grandfather died of leukemia when my mom was 12 years old.

My grandmother's grave is in the background. She shares a stone with my step-grandfather. However, my mother's parents were very much in love from the beginning until death parted them.

Ok, so this isn't the original. Honest, the only thing I did was add the white matte around the edges.

My great-grandmother died from appendicitis when my grandmother was just 18 or 20 years old. My mother is named after her.

As I drove to the cemetery and walked around, I couldn't help but imagine my mother at 12 years old burying her father. I believe she said it rained that day. Many of the graves I see now were here then. Did she stop to look at her great-grandmother's grave? Did this sweet little lamb with it's inscription catch my young mother's eye? This baby had died just 3 years before. Did she wonder about him and his family? Did she understand more than most children the keen sense of heartache they were probably still feeling? Today I wonder what this child's story was. The few times I've been to the cemetery, there have always been flowers at this little grave.

You've never had a name, but you've never been forgotten.

The next few I didn't bother touching up as, frankly, I didn't think they needed it.:)

My favorite.

Thank you for walking with me as I contemplate my heritage. How about you - what is your family story?

Not in Vain

2010-05-17T21:27:00.001-04:00

Today, a tragedy hit out church community along with many churches and people literally worldwide. Please read the story here.

Carissa, it is said, is from the Ukraine. Interestingly, Carissa was born in Rochester, NY and raised here for the first several years of her childhood. Her parents then moved to Ukraine to try to win many of those dear souls for Christ. It is appropriate that, in Carissa's death, she was reported to be from Ukraine, as that is where she considered her home to be. It was where her family was. It was where many of her friends were. It was where her burden was. It was where her heart resided.

Carissa's mother, Robin, is one of the most godly women I know. She comes from a dysfunctional family (don't we all?), but is living proof that we don't have to dwell in the past, become bitter, and blame the past for our current failures. She was saved as a teenager and followed the Lord from that time on. He truly lifted her out of the miry clay and set her upon a rock.

Robin flew into the US last November to say a final good-bye to her mother. How I understand it, the funeral was the first time in many years Robin's brothers and sisters had come together. The plan of salvation was clearly given, though I'm not sure of any decisions that were made that day.

Though the loss of a parent is an extremely sad time, it is often expected. The grace Robin had could have been interpreted by her lost family members as accepting a part of life. However, Carissa was just 20. She had just finished her second year of college, full of life, and loved her family. Her seemingly untimely death is a shock. The grace Robin and her husband along with Carissa's siblings at this time will be undeniable.

Now is the time when Christ is truly going to shine through the Ireland family. Their many unsaved relatives, neighbors, etc., are going to see their grief, but they're going to see hope in that grief. They're going to see supernatural strength. They're going to see the absence of bitterness. They're going to see God. They are going to come face to face with a very real decision - accept the God of Mike, Robin, Carissa, and the other children...or reject that blessed hope. Think of the many Ukrainians the Irelands have a relationship with. Think of how many may be saved or grow in their new walk because of this!

I do not intend to diminish the grief the family is feeling. People can have great faith and still weep uncontrollably. Yet, their faith will still be seen through their tears.

Now is the time to pray. We need to pray harder now than we did when the Coast Guard was searching for Carissa & Irena. Now, there are many souls searching for answers. We know where Carissa is. Let's pray that many will find Christ and meet with her one day in eternity as a result of her tragic death.

It's what Carissa would have wanted.

Some Recent Pictures

2010-05-12T00:02:00.002-04:00

Who knew Heaven on Earth was in Orleans County? I have a friend who lives there. This cottage is on her property. In my mind, I've dubbed it, "Rose Cottage." Unique, I know. That's just who I am.

Flowers picked from Heaven on Earth.

Apple blossoms. Not from Heaven on Earth. From my house...Paradise on Earth. Depending on my mood. Otherwise, it could be H--- on Earth. Kidding. Really. *cough*

We have them in color, too.

Of course, have to have some of the kids. So, guess where his tooth is. If you have a guess, let me know. Cause we have no idea.

I don't know what I'm going to do without a 2 year old in the house anymore. I definitely won't laugh as often.

Laying around in tractor tires makes for a great photo op, but it is not recommended as a routine activity.

Never fails...something large & loud flies overhead and the A.D.D takes over.

Really, I have six other kids.

Every homeschooling mom's dream - to see her children deep in thought. Ok, so it was Jenga. I'll take what I can get.

The kittens you'll find here at Paradise on Earth. Or, maybe it was the other place this particular day.

Weeping

2010-05-10T15:44:00.000-04:00

Tonight, as a dear one lays her head on her pillow,
instead of falling asleep, she weeps.
Staring at the vacant pillow beside her
her heart aches with loneliness for her sweetheart
who has recently gone to God.
She prays for strength, for wisdom, for understanding.
And as exhaustion gives way to sleep, she weeps.

Tonight, as I lay my head upon my pillow,
before I fall asleep, I weep.
Staring at the pillow beside me
I see my sweetheart - strong and alive.
I express gratitude to God for this blessing,
while my heart mourns for the dear one who's aching.
As I fall asleep, I weep.

I weep with her that weeps.

The Story About PIng

2010-05-08T00:39:00.000-04:00

And what a story it is.

My kids love this book. Ever read it? Well, get it from the library. That's what we did - quite a few times. Several months ago, we decided to check out the book/tape set from our favorite lender of books and brought it home so the kids could listen to it as they went to sleep. (Dreaming about ducks getting lost in the Yangtze River is always a fun thing.)

As there were tape players (yes, they still make them) in both the younger boys' room and the girls' room, the tape made a few trips back and forth between the two. I should have foreseen the inevitable.

The set was due back at the library. The book was located but the tape was missing. What a shock. Of course, no one knew where the tape was. How is it that every kid in the house had it last, but no one has it now?

Good ole "No One." He's a large part of every family.

So, we renewed the set. Two times. Finally, I had to face The Librarian. Is it just me or is The Librarian one of the most feared authority figures in the known world? Seriously, I'm thinking I'd rather face Fidel Castro than tell the local librarian that I lost one of the materials from her library. The Librarian can look all sweet and fun when reading a story to 2 year olds, but as soon as you mention "lost [insert media type here]" or she informs you of the dreaded "fine," she instantly turns into the scornful schoolmarm that makes you bow your head in deep humiliation as you mumble some sort of lame excuse.

"I have the book, but the tape has seemed to just...disappear," I mumbled back in November. As this particular copy of "The Story About Ping" is apparently no earthly good without its tape partner, I was required to purchase the book. $8.00 plus any fine I had incurred due to my tardiness in informing The Librarian.

Then I did what any practical, frugal, homeschool mom would have done. I wrapped up the book and my 6 year old was delighted on Christmas morning.

The Librarian didn't send me to the dungeon and my son got a "new" book. All's well that ends well.

Except for that nagging question: Where in the world did that tape go?

Fast forward to earlier this week. There I am, spring cleaning my son's room. And, what do I find in his dresser drawer? Yep. The tape. Now we have the complete set.

The ironic thing is...the tape player no longer works.

Gotta love a good story.

Oh! The Flowers at Yoder's

2010-05-02T23:02:00.000-04:00

Annie's Labradoodles

2010-04-24T23:58:00.000-04:00

If you fell in love with the puppies in the previous post, visit Chris & Steve's site. Six of these furry balls of sweetness are for sale and any one of them will be ready to go home with you in just a matter of weeks.

Their link is also on my sidebar.

Go on. You know you want one.

Cats & Dogs

2010-04-24T23:54:00.003-04:00

It was sunny & beautiful outside today, but it seemed to be raining cats & dogs...at least through the lense of my camera.

My daughter loves having her 3 little kittens in her room. This is her with her favorite kitten, Guess.
No, really...Guess.

Seth & Mischief. Both boys, of course.:)

This is my favorite picture. Guess is easy to photograph.

Our dog is an uncle. This is one of his 2 nieces.

How can you resist this face?

"Mommy!" (No, these puppies aren't normally separated from

their mom. Just made for a good photo op.)

"Take me home with you."

Princess.

Puppies are way too easy to photograph.

Taking Pics w/ the New Camera

2010-04-23T12:22:00.003-04:00

The new Canon Rebel T2i arrived at our house the other day. Therefore, I've been quite distracted.

$24

2010-04-22T23:49:00.002-04:00

So, I took my kids to the zoo today.

I love the zoo. It's not too big. There is a variety of attention grabbers. It's fun for all ages. And, most of it is outside.

[Let me just put in a side-note here. While our city's wild animal habitat is a pretty lame excuse for a zoo, we are also home to the nation's Toy Hall of Fame. That is located in a fantastic children's museum. Fantastic...if you have one or two children. As a mother of seven children whom, by the way, I'd like NOT to misplace before they're 20, I detest that museum. There are a zillion different corners and more nooks and crannies than an English muffin. It's great place for a one-on-one date. Not the place to have an enjoyable outing with seven children 12 & younger and be able to return home with each of them.]

The zoo's open spaces allow my children to walk or run while I can still see where each of them is. We can look at the animals for as long or as short a time as we want. There are places indoors (which have an open-floor plan) that we can go to warm up or cool off, depending on what the day's temperatures hold.

I was planning on getting into the zoo for free as the zoo membership I have from a neighboring city has always had reciprocal benefits. It used to be you got into both zoos for free no matter which one you purchased your membership. Used to be. Until January of this year. Now, I have only 50% off the entrance fee. Oh well. So it was $24 more than I planned on spending.

Twenty-four dollars totally wasted on my two youngest children. For, while we were on our way to see the tigers, my flower-child Gloria (who truly sees the world through rose-colored glasses) was marvelling at all the little flowers. We'd see the elephant and she's point to the ground and squeal, "Oooh! Flowers!!!" as she'd go to pick them.

I need to take that child to a botanical garden.

And Zane. We were looking at two mammoth sized rhinos when he points to a sparrow - a SPARROW - and cries in delight, "Bird!!!!" $24, rhinos, and he is captivated by a sparrow? I could have taken him for a walk to our barn for free.

But, honestly, $24 was nothing compared to the wonderful day I spent with my children. Sure, my oldest child is now considered an adult by zoo standards, meaning I had to pay full price for his ticket for the first time ever. But this was also the first time in 12 years I have not pushed a stroller at the zoo. I didn't have to change a poopy diaper in the public restroom or calm a tired, cranky baby. I didn't even have to referee any arguments. Therefore, I wasn't exhausted when we left, was able to stop at a friend's for a little visit, and make dinner when we got home.

Gloria liked the flowers. Zane liked the birds. Mike cost me more money.

Ya know what?

I had one of the best days ever as the mom of the seven most precious children I know.

And it only cost me $24.00.

Music to My Ears

2010-04-21T10:37:00.000-04:00

That's what I can actually call my son's trumpet playing today. For the first time.

Our oldest son has been taking trumpet lessons for about two months. The nice thing about the trumpet is that it is portable. This means he practices it upstairs in his room. His sisters practice their violin upstairs, as well.

I love two-story homes.

However, whereas the girls' room is situated upstairs on the other side of the house and the violin is quiet, our son's room is directly over the kitchen and the trumpet is, well, anything but quiet. Don't get me wrong. He's been doing quite well considering he is a beginner. But, a beginning trumpeter...have you ever lived with one?
However, TODAY! It was just a basic song. But, it actually sounded...nice. Like music.

Oh, and a side-note to my daughters' violin teacher. Their practicing is beginning to sound like music, too. They practiced downstairs last week and I actually enjoyed it.

All the money we're putting into music lessons just may pay off.

2010-04-17T22:09:00.001-04:00

We were pulling out of the parking lot at a local college where my 3 older girls take art lessons. The saw two girls walking to their van and Cassia says, "They must be sisters." Anna pipes up, "They get along really well. They must be friends."

Meaning #1 - They're not only sisters, but friends, as well!

Meaning #2 - There's no way 2 people who get along that well are sisters!

I instantly thought #2 but I prefer #1.

Because no one seems to be out there...

2010-04-13T00:54:00.000-04:00

Ok. So, I'm spending a ton of time uploading and explaining pictures and I really don't think anyone is even looking at them. So, just in case you are and just in case, for some ridiculous reason you want to see the rest of the pictures, follow the link. Yes, there are some repeats from the previous posts, but the Williamsburg & Antietam pics are there (w/ explanations), too.

Enjoy. Or don't. Whatever the case may be.

Yorktown - Where America Won THE Victory.

2010-03-21T23:18:00.000-04:00

Yorktown, for those who are as unaware of these things as I am, was the site of the last major battle of the Revolutionary War. It is where Cornwallis surrendered to Washington. Why it took another year or two before the Treaty of Paris was signed, officially ending the war, I am still not sure.

Our day at Yorktown was a battle against natures elements. It was the coldest day of the week - it even snowed the night before causing the schools in the area to be cancelled. We New Yorkers thought that was pretty funny, though we certainly were not laughing at the wind and the cold!

The Yorktown Visitor's Center offered us a tour of the recreated farm and soldier's encampment as well as an indoor tour of the museum. I wish we could have taken pictures inside as one of the original copies of the Declaration of Independence was located in there. When the Declaration was signed, 13 copies were made to be viewed by the colonies. So neat to see that so closely!

The children each took 2-hour classes focusing on different aspects of that time. My 1st and 2nd graders had a class on colonial life. My 5th and 6th graders enjoyed handling and discussing artifacts from the Revolutionary Period, and my 7th grader had a good time in his class about the life of a Revolutionary War Private.

When asked what there favorite part of Yorktown was, each of them said it was learning about medical practices during that time. I am sad we did not get any pictures of the actual tools used in order to treat the soldiers. The utensil used to pull out a sore tooth and the sharp object used to dig out any remaining roots was of particular interest. Not to mention the drill they would use to make a hole in a soldier's head to relieve swelling from a concussion. Don't forget, the only anesthesia they had was whiskey. Funny how we have such romantic notions of the far ago past - the dresses, balls, fun. Just taking a brief look into the medical and hygiene habits of the time will quickly snap you back into reality. We are blessed!!

A soldier's tent. Actually, a tent like this would have been "home" to

six full-grown men - healthy or ill.

Barely big enough for four young people!

An officer would have had much nicer accomodations -though he

would have paid for them himself. He even had a chamber pot & a

servant to empty it for him. No walking out of camp for him.

Revolutionary period "mess hall". There are "ovens" built into the dirt.

Each tent had their own "oven", etc., and the men would cook their

rations.

Musket & artillery demonstrations were always a hit.

My little Private disguising herself so she can fight for the cause!

I was so glad to be able to learn so much more about the War and how it ended. It's fun to be the teacher and learn things right along side my children. It was a cold day - but it was a fun & worthwhile day!

Next time - Williamsburg!