Tales from the Back Acher

More flood photos

2012-01-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

These are photos that Bryan took on his phone during the ordeal. Again, not many words to say, as the pictures tend to tell it all.

Laundry room

Damaged fenceline

Swimming weeds

Front of the house, from the road

Front yard

That's Bryan out there

The sandbox, getting a washing

This is the car trailer loaded with stuff about to take on water

Side of the house

Getting ready to evacuate at this point

Right before we evacuated

Ripping up wet carpeting

The mud fest after quite a while of pressure washing

Flood Cleanup

2012-01-24T23:54:00.000-08:00

Another photo journal...

Much. Too. Tired. To. Blog....

Some of the in-laws stuff, some of our stuff. Mostly garbage now.

Sorting station

View from the back of the shop towards the orchard.

Lots of wet photographs...

Nothing was overlooked by this mud monster

Formerly known as "the safe area" - first time it's ever seen water

A loaned dump trailer - full already

Corvallis Church friends are helping with fencing and cleanup

Looking in onto our shop floor

Hazelnuts float, just fyi

Even the toolbox didn't get spared this time

This stuff is literally everywhere

Floods Stink

2012-01-23T23:09:00.000-08:00

Cleaning up after a flood is not as easy as it looks. It's also not as hard as it looks when you've got quite a bit of people wanting to do something to help. From far and wide, people have asked how they could help. Right now, our biggest issues are MESS and MONEY. Fortunately, we've gotten quite a few warm bodies showing up at various hours on any given day to give of their time. One of my favorites are the laundry fairies. They are a small group of friends from varying backgrounds, who don't even all know each other, that are coming by every day. They don't all come by every day, but they are pretty regular. They pick up a bag of dirty, they bring back a bag of clean. Want to know the best thing about it? The smell.

Everything in and around a flood just stinks. Literally. Then after awhile, you start to just be a mouth breather, and you begin to drown out the smell with sheer determination. Don't get me wrong, it's not horrible, but who wants to take the chance and find out for sure? We do live on an organic farm. There is "organic" all over the place. There has been a warning sign at the end of our road "Warning. Health Hazard! Raw Sewage may exist" or some such thing. But I tell ya, whenever a load of laundry gets opened, and a fresh clean sweatshirt is donned for the new days work, I inhale deeply. Then I do it again just because I'm so glad I can. I smell the scent of clean. Of relief. Of hugs from people who just do what they do because they can. It keeps me going.

My laundry room after the water receded... sopping wet and muddy.

Receding Waters

2012-01-22T22:39:00.000-08:00

The rains go down and the sun comes up. Only we didn't get much sun. But still... it was such a relief to see the water begin to recede. Or was it? Now it's clearly visible all the work there is to come. It's also quite obvious that we need some help.

Trailers make for "higher ground" alternatives. Belongings on the right, a trailer full of chickens on the left.

Silt covered just about everything

This is sort of like planning an event that I don't want to be in charge of. I've made my list though... and here we go.

Marys River Flood Jan 19, 2012

2012-01-21T23:30:00.000-08:00

I know I've had a few visitors checking in over here to see how we're doing, and I'm sorry to be absent for so long. Well, we've been through the river and back, but we're ok! After evacuating for a couple of days, we are finally home. We have no heat (ducting under the house if full of silt and water), we have no water to drink (well is contaminated) and we also have no functioning septic system (that's sure fun with four kids!). With some help with a few people in our community, we're getting by and hopefully the clean up won't take too much out of us.

I'll let the following photo journal tell the story for you, because truthfully, I'm much too tired and cold to talk anymore. I also included Part 1 of my YouTube videos of the flooding in my "neighborhood". I originally took the video and posted it to share with my Mom, because she likes all the details of stuff. Then I decided to share it on Facebook with my friends and family. Then, somehow, it contracted a mini-virus and shot up to over 12,000 views in the first day. Goodness, now a zillion people get to hear what I sound like with my own mini-virus, the kind that makes me sound like I am speaking with a mouthful of cookies and a package of cotton swabs poking me in my lungs. Yeah, great!

Anyway, without further ado... the photos from January 19, 2012 (also, my son's 9th Birthday!)

The Story of How it All Began

2012-01-11T14:08:00.000-08:00

Several months back, our hearts fell in love with some miniature chickens. The kids and I pondered for weeks over whether or not it would be a sound decision to add some (very adorable) Seramas to our 4H project for the upcoming year. I knew that 4H wasn't the only reason for my wish to have some of these chickens, since I'm not even able to show them due to my advanced age. ha!

But, over time the kids made the decision for me. My oldest son, Brenden, was just begging to have a new BB Gun and had been saving up money for quite some time. In a shocking turn of events, he opted to use ALL of his saved money to purchase his own pair of Seramas, including whatever it would take to get their housing set up. It's not common for my kids to make such huge sacrificial statements, but when my son does, then it's certainly time for action!

We chose to purchase chicks that were a few weeks old through Castle Delight Seramas, (as if there was really any other option for us!) and went about the difficult task of selecting the pair we wanted out of the birds that were currently available. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, because everyone had their own opinions.

Since we were funding this operation with my son's money, he got the first choice of a pair. This all worked out nicely, except that I paid a visit to see the chicks first hand, and came away with my own mind made up. I had fallen head over heels for a sweet little rooster named William.

William <3

Much to my dismay, William was not Brenden's first choice.

Brenden's first choice was Winston.

Winston

And a good choice indeed! Winston is very showy, and quite handsome. I was a teensy bit disappointed, because William was also very handsome, but he also had a very sweet personality and that made him very attractive to me (kind of like my husband, you know?)

My son was very accommodating, and offered numerous suggestions like, "Maybe we should just get three instead of two", and, "My first choice and your first choice can be friends!"... well, who was going to argue with that? I let him pick out his female, and he chose Clementine to join his rooster Winston.

Clementine

Then, it just seemed natural for William to come home with us too.

But there's a catch. William couldn't live his whole life with another rooster and hen, or there were sure to be problems. So, William needed his own friend *wink wink*

Thankfully, Clementine had a twin sister who agreed to come home with us as well. "Elizabeth" and William would make a beautiful couple. (Yes, they were named after certain characters in Pirates of the Caribbean)

Elizabeth

To make matters ~~worse~~ even better, my daughter, Alyssa, decided she really liked one of the other hens, and had decided to pitch in with her resources, so I figured a pair and a trio would be even better than just one pair, and her hen would live with Elizabeth and William. She even selected the name Tia (for the curly haired Tia Dalma in the previously mentioned pirate movie).

Tia

BUT, I learned after the fact, that the Tia was a sibling of William. So, the hen that was a sibling of William was now on the list to come home with Brenden's first choice rooster, whose name is Winston, and Winston's chosen mate Clementine. If you google Winston and Clementine, you'll see how the boy came up with his choice of names. Strange isn't he? But the names work.

And... the twists and turns don't end here.

We attended the Oregon Poultry Swap in October, and the Serama Lady (as my friends affectionately call her) was there with several more young seramas that had yet to find permanent homes. One of the little guys was having a hard time with his cage mates, so my family was quite willing to hold him and make sure he was happy (and quiet!) during the event. The bad thing about allowing a family to hold something cute and snuggly, is that it often affects ones sensibilities, and you end up taking things home that you didn't originally intend to.

No, of course that didn't happen to us! I'm far more sensible, and I'm not at all prone to making emotional decisions. I also don't get led astray by small children with big, round, pleading eyes. Nope, not me.

Ok fine... I caved. But it's just as well, Tia probably wouldn't have wanted to share a cage with two other chickens anyway, and now she had her own friend. He came with the name Ducci, and now Ducci and Tia are the most happy chicken couple on the farm.

Ducci

The end.

(Unless you want a closer look at the chicken lineage...
but be careful, or you'll want your own!)

Introductions. Again.

2011-11-22T17:50:00.000-08:00

The Back Acher Farm is my place.
I started this blog, "Tales from the Back Acher" as a result of many hours of thinking thoughts that needed to be out of my brain and put into a tangible space. The "Tales" were stories of my present life. The day to day excitement, the funny quotes, the silly things my kids did, the awkward and humbling mistakes that I made and learned from, my newly hatched chicks, my chickens, my roosters, my animals. Did I mention my pets? Maybe a little photography too, just for fun. But seriously, it has a time, it has a place, and I often found myself hoping my readers wouldn't get so wound up in my stressful existence that they would desert me. I have abandonment issues.

Then, as the years rolled over, I began to see that I was tending to compartmentalize my thoughts into separate categories, on two separate levels:

Level 1: The humorous, the relaxed, the silly, the sarcastic, the fun and the interesting.

Level 2: The serious, the often times depressing, the passionate, the meaningful, and the REAL DEAL.

Of course both of those levels are the real me, it's just that the level 2 part of me had a hard time expressing itself in writing. No, I take that back. It never had a hard time expressing itself, it just had a hard time hitting the button that said PUBLISH.

In an effort to be more transparent, as I have recently committed to my friends and my husband that I would be, yet to also be a little less in-your-face about my postings, I have created a new blog called The Heart of the Back Acher. It is a place where my deepest thoughts and emotions will be shown and a place where I want to feel safe to post my beliefs without any fear of comments that go against what I know in my heart to be true. It's where my heart speaks.

As far as this blog goes, I am THRILLED to have a more concrete direction for it. I have felt as if I'd been neglecting it, simply because I didn't know what to do or how to do it. As a perfectionist, the tendency to just do nothing if I couldn't do everything right, kept me from enjoying this as much as I would love to do. I want to keep this space for my most public self - the one that is funny, outgoing, excited about life and ready to show it. I don't intend to chase anyone away, but if you don't like hearing about my mishaps, or life on the farm, or reading about my kids, or hearing about our adventures then you're free to move along. I also welcome new readers to my more intimate side, as I gain up some momentum to post a few things that are heavy on my heart in the coming weeks and months.

With that said, Welcome to the new dual-personality me! (That just sounds scary)
Thank you my faithful friends and family - for your comments and feedback to me both on and offline, your encouragement of my abilities, and your flexibility. I love you all!

Another Million Words (or less)

2011-09-21T18:37:00.000-07:00

Not only did Alyssa's teacher ask for an essay, but so did Delayna's! Boy, I've been busy...

About14 years ago, I was hoping that my older daughter, Alyssa, would soonhave a younger sibling to keep her company. By July of 1998 it lookedlike the arrival of Delayna may have been something that my olderdaughter wanted to send back for a refund.

Thankfully,we kept her, because quite frankly even before she was born she was apleasure to be around. She was pretty laid back, never made much of aracket, and was really sweet to all the older ladies I knew whowished they could have little girls again. Several people suggestedthat Delayna wasn't a typical baby. I do believe that if everyone hada kid like Delayna, there would be more kids in the world.

Delaynahas grown up with an older sister, and two younger brothers. She alsohas an older step-sister who lives outside the home, so she is quitespecifically “the middle child”. I think she fits into her rolevery well. Delayna is a very creative person, she likes to doodle anddraw. I often wish she would keep her drawings on paper, but wefrequently see evidence of her creativity on her shoes, her pants,her brothers, and her own body parts.

Delaynaloves to laugh. She has a very keen sense of humor and a wit thatkeeps up with conversations in grown-up circles. She also loves tomake other people laugh and being silly is quite frequently how sheentertains herself. She has lots of fun in life.

Delaynais intelligent. She writes well, spells very properly and issometimes caught editing the spelling or grammar of full grownadults. She is a great reader, who has been known to plow throughfull sized novels in a day or two, and not just once, but twice for goodmeasure.

Delaynais crafty and has a good eye for color. She enjoys doing beadwork,and sometimes I can even convince her to help me with a quilt. She puttogether her first quilt in elementary school, and it actually helpedinspire me to start sewing for myself.

Delaynais thorough. She is the only one in our household who will get sentto do the dishes, and will actually do them. I'm not saying thatshe's rejoicing the entire time, but she does her work and she stayson track. I can usually count on her to get her work, whether it'swork at home or work from school, finished by herself. She needs verylittle direction or correction, and I appreciate that about her alot.

Delaynais also very social and very different. She doesn't go very longwithout communicating in some fashion with her best friends. She putsa high value on friendships, and she doesn't feel very well when herfriends are having disagreements. She is different in that she iswilling to wear something that other people might find completelycrazy, and she is totally ok with it. She loves to wear makeup andtry out new things, and unless it's something completelyinappropriate, we give her a moderate amount of free rein to beherself.

Eventhough on the outside she doesn't seem to care about what otherpeople think, “sensitive” is another term that comes to mind whenI think about Delayna. She is easily hurt whenever she has beenoffended or if she is being corrected in a way that is construed aseven the tiniest bit harsh. I often have to mind my words when I amspeaking to her, because I don't want to bruise her delicatefeelings, or say something that might be considered hurtful when itis not intended to be. Thankfully, Delayna is also pretty quick toforgive others. This comes in handy because she lives in a largerfamily and it's easy to accidentally step on people's feelingssometimes.

Iwould also describe Delayna as trustworthy and loyal. She doesn'tgive up on people too easily, and she is good at giving people secondchances. She has a strong work ethic, and when our family is goingthrough tough times, she willingly works to earn income for thethings she wants. She is good at saving money too. She did atremendous job as a daycare assistant over the past summer, and sheworks exceptionally well with small children, but unfortunately sheis sometimes so good that her time is in high demand. Sometimes we have toput limits on her so that she doesn't find herself overwhelmed withall that's going on in her life.

Patientand trusting are more characteristics of my daughter. Since thesecond grade, she's endured eight different surgeries having to dowith her ears in some way. She has grown to accept that some thingsjust happen to some people, and we've got to roll with the punches.She doesn't hear all that well, as she only has one hearing bone leftin one of her ears now, but she has adapted beautifully in order tonot draw attention to herself. I sometimes think that she and I couldhave conversations with no sound because we've become so good atreading each others lips. This can be a problem in school though,because not everyone is aware of her issue, and occasionally sheappears to be ignoring someone when in fact she just isn't hearingthem or can't see that they are speaking.

Overall,I enjoy being Delayna's Mom. I hope that in some way, through all thestuff she's been through in her life, she will grow up to be a muchbetter person than myself.

A Million Words or Less

2011-09-21T18:13:00.000-07:00

We got an assignment. By we, I mean the parents at this house got an assignment last week. The title simply said, "In a million words or less, tell me about your child". Simple right? Well, it's been a long time since I've had to write an essay, and an even longer time since my husband has had to, so naturally, the task of completing the assignment has fallen to me. Plus, I write, he scribbles. Just sayin....

So, I'll be sharing, in one million words or less, about my children. I may stop at one, I may go for four, only time will tell. You may wish to unsubscribe for a week. I'll commence talking about all things I'm not proud of at some time in my future. But for today - my girl Alyssa...

About16 years ago, I found out I was expecting my firstborn child. I feltexcited and happy, because I knew she would change my world. Alyssahas quite the personality. She has made me sick, she has made meworry, she has made me stop what I was doing and take notice, and sheeven got me to quit thinking so much about myself and start thinkingmore about others. All that happened before she was even born. I cancertainly say that things haven't changed one bit since she actuallyentered the world.

Thefirst thing I think about when I find my thoughts resting on Alyssa,is that her personality is one of a kind. She marches to the beat ofa different drummer. She was speaking in full sentences before shecould walk. She was the most polite kid in the church nursery whenshe was little. She was the kid who wore the eye patch inpreschool. She was the one who had to get tested for ADD inElementary school, and she was the one who decided to tackle severalsports in Middle School even when it hurt like heck. She is also thekid who is intensely appreciative of music, both in listening andperforming. She takes her music seriously, and is usually the firstto show me something new that she just discovered, or share somethingold that she thinks we might appreciate (or not!). But all along theway, she's always been the one who didn't really care much what otherpeople thought of her, and she's also not very accepting of drama orconflict – unless someone is messing with a member of her family,then you'd better watch out.

Alyssadoesn't fit into any mold. She refuses to blend in with the crowd, orgo along with what the media says that teens should be like, looklike, or act like. She is a genuinely happy person, with a largeamount of respect for people that care about others. She has a deeppersonal faith. She is quick to apologize when she's done somethingout of line. She doesn't cry when her feelings get hurt, or whensomeone injures her, but she cries at the sight of a baby chick or acute fluffy kitten. She's very sentimental, and judging by thecondition of her bedroom at any given time, it's quite clear that shehas a hard time parting with things that mean a lot to her.

Alyssa'sDad left us when she was barely three years old. She and he wereextremely close, and although his leaving didn't seem to make any big changes in her world at the time, it took several years for us tonotice that him being gone left a deep impression on her perceptionof the people in her life. She often has a hard time trusting that people willfollow through with what they say they will do, and that they haveher best intentions at heart.

Alyssais a helper. She's prefers to spend all her summers working in akitchen at a church camp rather than lounging at the beach. She isgreat about taking responsibility for many of the animals on ourhobby farm, and she's a leader for the younger kids in our 4H group.She takes pride in her work, but I find that she spends a great dealof time worrying about whether or not she's on track and if she'seven going to survive High School. She is a good student when she isable to focus, but often times her mind goes to other things and shegets highly disappointed in herself and has occasional meltdowns. I'mfamiliar with that though, because I've been known to do that a timeor two.

Alyssaresponds well to praise, and she thrives on direct communication.Often she is not the one to initiate the communication, so sometimesshe misses out on things because of her hesitation to approachpeople. I have found that this is getting easier for her as herconfidence in herself has improved, and I'm pleased to see hergrowing in this way. Alyssa gets a lot of support from home. She'sencouraged to try new things in order to find out where she wants togo in life. On the other hand, she's also pressured, maybe too muchsometimes, to be responsible for herself and her actions. Naturalconsequences is a phrase that is heard a lot around here. Alyssa getsvery discouraged at her failures, but in our home, failures are alsoconsidered a success. It means that somewhere along the road she haslearned what doesn't work and can try a different approach the nexttime around.

Alyssahas an older step-sister that she doesn't see very much, and threeyounger siblings, a sister and 2 brothers, who all live in our home.They each admire her, and the younger kids all look up to her –even though you won't hear them admitting it very frequently. Sheoften has disagreements with them, but usually it's because sheforgets that she was a little kid once too. The word “annoying”is probably her most-used term when she refers to them, and I thinkthat it means her younger brothers are doing a good job of beingbrothers. I believe that Alyssa is a pretty decent example of what anolder sibling should be like, and she does a good job of holding downthe fort when the parents are gone. I'm proud of my daughter, and allthe things she's gotten through in her young life so far. All in all,I love being Alyssa's Mom!

Bean Spilling Time!

2011-09-14T01:41:00.000-07:00

For the past several weeks, we've been keeping secrets. Now, it's time to spill the beans.

I often wondered where the term "spill the beans" came from. Did someone have a secret in the bottom of a can of beans, and they had to spill them to get the story out? Who knows... anyway... (do you think it was green beans or kidney beans?) Ok, ok... for real now...

This has been a long time coming, and I regret not including very many people in the journey, but I honestly think it was one that we had to make. Just us - and God. It's easy to let other people give you their advice, or their criticisms, or even concerns and questions, but this time, we wanted our decisions to be based on where we were feeling LED and not where we were being pushed, pulled, shoved or cornered. And yes I DO have an issue with telling people "no". Or at least I did.

To make a long story short (yeah, right!), quite awhile back we left a church under circumstances that weren't ideal for our family. We had all good intentions of leaving on wonderful terms, with people waving sad goodbyes and sending their best wishes and being really supportive of our future adventures, but that never happened. We just had to leave... and that was that. It's been a couple years and people are still asking us where we went. It's kinda frustrating... kinda sad... and kinda disturbing. It hurt. A lot.

Over the course of the last 2 years, we've huddled up in a comfortable church in our local community that is full of nice, happy, loving people. I really like these people. They are really starting to feel like family to me. It's nice to FINALLY have people in my town that I can trust, that I can rely on, and that I can turn to in an emergency. It's nice that I can be that for them too (at least I hope I am!) From the beginning, our first visit to this church, I felt like it was where we were supposed to be. We visited, and then never went anywhere else. It felt "comfortable" and I liked it. But something felt itchy.

That itch continued to feel itchy for months. We felt rather useless for many weeks as we were just "regular" church attenders. Something we hadn't been for years. We were used to being in the trenches each and every Sunday, as well as a couple weekdays in-between. We didn't just GO to church, we got our hands dirty every chance we could.

Our family settled in. The kids got involved in kid things, us parents got involved in small groups. Only something different happened, we weren't in a group together anymore, we were in separate men's & women's groups. Nothing wrong with that - we actually blossomed and formed friendships that we wouldn't have otherwise. But, still something was itchy.

Bryan wanted to do things in the church. Then he stalled, because he wasn't going to do them if I wasn't ready. Then I wanted to do things, and in the meanwhile I felt that he had backed off, and it continued like this for some time. It was still itchy.

About the time we both had our hearts ready to get in there and serve in various ways, we found ourselves unable to really connect to something or to feel that overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I don't mean the self-serving kind of accomplishment where you pat yourself on the back, but the kind where you really feel like what God has asked you to do has been, or is being, accomplished. We did good things, we enjoyed them, and our hearts were in the right place, but it was still itchy.

In the meanwhile, over the last year, I managed to go through a severe depression that lasted many months. I struggled a lot. I struggled with my purpose, with the meaning of my life, and with my husband (poor guy). I struggled with the weather, with my kids and with my physical body. I struggled with loneliness, with isolation and with God. I also struggled to get us some help. Almost exactly a year ago, we found that help. I know that I previously opened up on this blog about discovering my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that we entered marriage counseling. But shortly after that, I watched several marriages around us begin to crumble. Then I wrote a post on Marital Suicide. I am pretty amazed that I can write a sermon to myself, and still be surprised that it affects me. I guess it's called practicing what you preach. It made a big difference in where I was coming from, and where I'm going.

Basically I just got off topic. So my background story was "we've been through a lot - as if you didn't already know that". So in the course of going through "a lot", I found myself quite literally clearing my plate of all obligations, commitments, activities and anything else that took up my time, energy and emotions. I do believe it was related to the depression, but looking back I'm pretty sure that I had help clearing that plate, because there was something coming down the road that needed to have a wide berth. No interruptions. No lame excuses.

Then we turned a corner. Our marriage began to bloom again, our kids began to turn into wonderful young people (because grouchy parents cause grouchy kids) and we became more centered and focused. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have happened if we'd been holed up in "busy, busy land" during that time. VERY slowly, I began considering new ideas, new options and new ways to serve that brought me joy and at the same time gave God the glory. I found a quilting group and got them set up with a website (since I was new at sewing, it's the least I could do for all the help they've been for me!). I discovered afresh what it was like to be working with my heart.

I got asked to do twenty-seven-dozen other things, and politely declined all but a few that were very short term. I felt like I was being picky. But that picky feeling wasn't coming from myself. The itch was starting to lessen with the things that my heart was leading me to do.

Along the course of a men's retreat (for Bryan), a separate camp weekend (for me) and then High School Camp in the summer (for both of us) we ran into the Mattenley's. We heard their ideas for the people of Haiti and how different the ideas were from governmental organizations. It really appealed to us. It's crazy how many times we've talked about helping in the mission field (hundreds), and how many times we separately felt led to help with THIS particular mission (dozens), and then how ODD it was to run into Shane Mattenly together and have him ask US to partner with him. How weird is that? Not weird at all if you know who's running the show I guess. I'm pretty sure it was that guy upstairs who planted me in the Dominican Republic one summer about 20 years ago, and then placed a burning desire on my heart to come back to the Island someday. Pretty sure that the Dominican Republic is the same Island as Haiti - it counts, right?

So we thought, we prayed, we talked... We mentioned it to a family member who thought the idea was completely absurd. Then we mentioned it to another family member who thought the idea was wonderfully grand. Then we decided to just keep it to ourselves so we wouldn't fall victim to allowing other people to make up our minds for us. We knew we wanted to do it. We knew we needed to.

Just about that time same time, we got the call to help with a new church plant. You probably could have heard a pin drop in the room when Bryan told me, except the sound of my jaw hitting the floor was kind of loud. It felt SO RIGHT. I wanted to burst out and say "YES!! I have been WAITING FOR THIS!! I want to do it, I want to do it! I've wanted to help with a new church plant for the last three years! I get to hear you SING again!!" But I didn't, and quite honestly I didn't even know where those thoughts were coming from. Did I really want to do that? Had I been wanting to for quite some time? Huh??

Granted, we had tossed around conversations with our good friends from church #1 about how it would be so cool to help with a church plant, and that if they were on board too it would be just THEE best. But that was awhile ago. And I'm sort of busy with... um... with stuff that I don't know yet. (Uh huh... where's the excuses now?!)

Fast forward a few days, and we find ourselves giving Shane from Haiti a resounding "yes". We tossed around our thoughts and ideas, and ways to help from our side of the planet. We are now on a Committee for Highland Farms in Haiti to help promote sustainable living along with changing lives in the process. What's even better, is that we are also working alongside a few other really good friends that I had no idea were even on board until we accepted. But what tops that, is that the other members of the committee are people we knew from the first church we ever went to many years ago! It's almost creepy how all these things keep coming together and falling into place. It's like "wow!" followed immediately by, "WOW!!" I'm so full of anticipation. It's so brand new to me, and yet I'm so encouraged by being a part of it all. Plus the coffee we were sent to share with others is A-MAZ-ING (shameless plug).

It doesn't end there though. Another couple of weeks later, we found ourselves speaking to our pastor and his wife, and letting them know that as much as we loved the church they were leading - we really felt that we were being called to help with the new church plant, and to do something more UNcomfortable. The positive support we got, and continue to receive, has been a beautiful breath of fresh air. I am not sure what I was expecting - but it was a REALLY weird to wake up the next morning, and no longer feel itchy.

Now, when I look back over my shoulder at the last 36 months or so, it appears that we've been going through training and we just didn't see it. We tore spiritual and emotional muscles, we spent time in physical and emotional therapy, we went through spiritual rehabilitation, and we even had time on "bed rest" - where we were nice and comfortable - in order to prepare ourselves for what is now ahead of us. I feel like we just trained for a marathon, and we're about to see just what all that training prepared us for. I can tell ya one thing though... whatever that itch was, has been replaced by a full heart and a delightful feeling of accomplishment. The kind that isn't just a pat on the back.

A Favor to Ask

2011-08-15T00:10:00.000-07:00

Imagine you just spent two hours mowing grass, with a push mower, in 90 degree heat. Now you're going to the fridge to grab a cold drink. The problem is, it's not cold. It's as warm as the sweat running from your head.

How about making a mile high sandwich with that yummy looking roast beef, only to find yourself worshiping the porcelain god within hours because your roast beef wasn't stored at a proper temperature.

Try walking a mile through a dusty, dirty street to get a few things that your family needs to use for meals over the next several days. You have very little money to spend, and some of your items are perishable. Problem is, you don't have ample refrigeration. This entirely changes the way you need to plan to feed your family, doesn't it?

Think about what our comfy, cozy lives would look like without a refrigerator. Have you gone there lately? Had it even crossed your mind? I'm ashamed to say it hadn't crossed my mind for many months.

You want milk? Not for long.
Ice Cream? Never
Is there mayonnaise in that potato salad? How about a side of food poisoning instead.
Did you really want that piece of meat for dinner? Perhaps we should try something safer like rice, or beans. Perhaps we should do that forever. What would it look like to host a few dinner guests? I can't even imagine.

I'm not sure what it would be like to live without refrigeration. I lived several months with a busted freezer back in my Bible College days. It was horrible. It's almost automatic to believe that I can walk through a store, see things I need, or things I might need in the future, and be able to put them in the freezer as soon as I get home. Beef is on sale? Great! Stock up. Chicken! YES! I even stock up on bread, cheese, lunchmeat, seasonal veggies and fruit and usually it spends some amount of time in my freezer. It's probably saved me thousands of dollars when I bought things in bulk on sale, plus it's easier to plan ahead and use those items in the future.

Here is something that's been weighing on my mind for several days now. I've decided it's time to bring my thoughts to you - since sometimes things happen when we share what we think.

Our friends, the Mattenley's, are trying to raise some money for a small, efficient refrigerator. The Mattenley family is currently following their call to work with the people of Haiti. They are doing an amazing job, doing some great things that I believe wholeheartedly in. I will talk more about it here on this blog very soon, because as you know, just believing in something is never good enough. You must act on your beliefs for it to be genuine.

So with that said, please take five minutes of your time, click on this link below, and help me raise funds for this family to have a small, efficient refrigerator before the month of August is over. If you already have Paypal, it will probably only take you 40 seconds or so. You are welcome to copy the widget code and paste it to your blog or page as well. This is not one of those things where I'll give a freebie to whoever likes it, posts it, shares it - because it's none of my business. It's just between you and God. And I thank you very much for considering this.

Please be praying for the Mattenley's and their mission work.

Follow the blog!

Excuses excuses!

2011-06-07T11:07:00.000-07:00

ALL four kids got up late - hubby left for work later than usual - kids all had messy hair *gasp*- kids bickered, only one cried, but eventually they all got dressed - pulled my hair into a ponytail and picked off yesterday's mascara - slapped on some eyeliner and some more mascara so I didn't look so dead - brushed teeth - pulled on dirty jeans and a new top that Alyssa picked out - remembered that Brenden didn't take his medicine - looked everywhere for medicine - called my hubby to ask where he put the new prescription that he picked up yesterday - listened as he described that it was still sitting right next to him in the car - hung up after saying nice things, I'm sure - hollered the 3 minute warning - saw only two kids at the bus stop - shoved Brenden out the door as I was brushing his hair - watched Brenden run across the yard with one shoe on, and one shoe half off as the bus was pulling up - bus stopped, but only three kids got on - waved at bus driver - found remaining kid in the bathroom fixing her messy hair (LOL) - drove that girl to the Middle School - went through the driveup window at my favorite coffee place to get a $1.00 latte (felt like I needed it by now!) - threw a quarter plus a penny in the tip jar just so it would make more noise when it hit than one quarter by itself - drove to the Elementary School - signed out my son's meds - went to his class and made him take his meds - walked to the gym to help another Mom set up the end of the year slideshow - sat down on a hard bleacher - slide show didn't work once all the kids showed up and the lights were off - sent the entire student body outside on a pretend fire drill - some other Mom of a 7th grader asked me if I was going to the Middle School awards - looked completely ignorant because I'd not heard about it - got slide show working - watched half the slideshow - left the slideshow early to make it to the Middle School 7th grade awards on time - sat on another hard bleacher - laughed a lot and enjoyed being proud of a lot of kids I spent 2 years helping teach music to - ran out the door - came home. And that, my friends, is why I wasn't here to chat online this morning :)

Now pardon me, because I only have one more hour of freedom before September. See ya around!

A Brand New Baby Blog. Only not for babies.

2011-04-22T13:13:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to share with all my blog friends here that I'm involved in a new project. And with a new project, comes a new blog. And with a new blog, comes new blog posts. And... you get the idea!

Even though I'm BRAND spankin' new at it, I've joined a team of ladies who meet up every month to put together Charity Quilts. When we aren't together, we are working on these quilts a little bit at a time from home. You can see the new blog we've got set up over at: Hope And Joy Quilts. My desire is that our readers get a little joy out of it, maybe a little hope, and a whole lotta inspiration. If nothing else, can you pray for this group of women (and their devoted husbands and helpers) to be able to continue to share God's love through our deeds and our actions? It would mean so much to us.

Feel free to "follow" our blog and help by offering encouragement, if that is something you can do.
Thank you so much!

HOPEANDJOYQUILTS.COM

We have more kids than I thought

2011-04-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

I have been telling people for years (a little over 8 years to be exact) that I have given birth to four children. I have photographic proof, medical records, DNA evidence and enough upstanding witnesses to prove it in any court of law. I also have a step-daughter, so when I say "We have five kids..." it's true. At least I thought it was, but the fact of the matter is, I'm pretty sure I'm wrong. I'm beginning to think we actually have six.

I think everyone with two children, should just go ahead and say they have three. People with three, should say they have four, and so on. You might as well resolve yourself to the fact that the number of kids you have is not accurate. I know this to be true, because that's how it is here.

Our sixth child has a name. It's not a particularly glamorous, cute, or delightful name, but it is fitting. His name... is Notme. Now a little history about Notme. He was born somewhere between the births of my second and third child. Which is a miracle in and of itself, considering my second and third children are only 19 months apart. But I suppose it could be done. Notme is a very unsocial child. He has this habit of being quite shy, he never shows himself in public, and has never even shown himself to me. Matter of fact I don't even remember seeing him when he was born, but when that postpartum amnesia set in, I'm guessing it took away more memories than I was expecting. Notme is always hiding out somewhere, and as far as I can tell, my children are the only ones who have actually seen him.

I know my children have seen Notme, because whenever I ask who left the milk out, they say Notme did it. My kids (like most of yours, I'm sure) aren't prone to telling lies, so I'm pretty sure that when they tell me Notme did it, then one of them must have actually seen him do it. Notme has also been spotted leaving the bread bag open all night, leaving ice cubes on the kitchen floor to melt, and drinking so much juice that when he puts the container back in the fridge it only has six drops remaining.

I feel endeared to this sixth child of mine. He probably suffers from some sort of complex due to all the complaining that goes on because of the poor choices he makes. I feel sorry for him. I wish he would just come out and I could see his face. It probably has black marks on it though, because last I heard, Notme was going around coloring peoples body parts with permanent marker.

As a mother, my heart aches whenever I think of Notme making it through his days without hugs and kisses from me. I wish he wasn't so shy. Matter of fact, I never even knew if Notme was a boy or a girl until just a few years back. I had my suspicions for a couple years, but once I found out that Notme had been leaving the toilet seat up - it was pretty clear. Notme also forgets to follow my well-versed advice, "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie." Obviously - we have another boy on our hands.

Notme is famous for clogging the toilet, leaving forks outside in the dirt, taking dishes upstairs to the girls' bedroom where he leaves them and also eating all of the granola bars. I don't mean to complain about this child, because I really do love him and all of his imperfections, but sometimes I get really frustrated when Notme doesn't do his chores. I often ask who's job it is to do the dishes, and most of the time the kids say, "Notme!" Well, he just never does them, so someone else has to do it. It's kind of a bother.

It's not all bad though. I do feel some sense of satisfaction in knowing that Notme is well cared for, even if he doesn't respond well to human touch. He is fed because he leaves messes in the kitchen, he is well dressed judging by all the dirty clothes left on the floor in the boys' room. He has plenty of activity and play time. Just one look at how many puzzle pieces, legos, sports equipment and books he leaves laying around and it's irrefutable.

I'm so thankful that one day I can look back and say that even though it was difficult to have several near-perfect children and only one challenging offspring, I will smile. I just know that because they have a brother with difficulties, it will be easier for them to raise their children. They will be more caring, more forgiving, more gracious and merciful... and if heredity extends to another generation, they will also have a child named Notme. It just seems to be tradition in our family.

Photographing Chickens - What NOT To Do

2011-04-09T00:15:00.000-07:00

Even the best (and the worst) of us can make mistakes when photographing chickens. They are a moody bunch. They don't tolerate directions, they tend to have a mind of their own, and just when you think they are going to be quiet and take instructions, they surprise you by arguing with each other and making weird faces.

Take for example this group. They just didn't pay attention at all. They resemble my children when I tell them to go get their chores done.

"What? We can't hear you."

Then, there's always the grouchy subject. The one who never seems to be able to crack a smile. Just stay away from chickens like this, it might just ruin your day.

"You have now angered the chicken"

Occasionally, you'll be moving in for a shot, and come up with something like the "creepy head on the chopping block" problem. Avoid it at all costs. It traumatizes PETA members.


"Where's my body??"

Then there are the timid ones. You've got to warn them first, or you end up with shots like this.

"What the....??"

Let's talk about the ones who forget the simple things like washing their face. Hello?? You just sucked down yogurt, I would think you'd at least wipe your face before you showed up! And even worse, she has the nerve to waste my time complaining about the ol' biddy sitting next to her.

"Get your butt out of my face"

Whatever you do, when you are taking pictures of poultry, you MUST avoid (at all costs) the really awful eyelid ordeal. It's when they blink, right before they blink. I wish we had an extra set of eyelids like this, but then we'd have a lot more grody looking pictures of ourselves. Forget it.

"If I can't see you, you can't see me"

Class clowns. The roosters who just can't seem to behave themselves. Ever. They're always waggling their stuff around like... oh I don't even know WHAT he was thinking, just forget it. I can't even explain.

"Fail"

If you're going to take photos of chickens, you've got to be patient. You've got to have a big chunk of free time, and most importantly, you've got to have a great backdrop. You also need to have some decent flexibility to get down to their level long enough to snap a decent shot, while not dropping any part of yourself into their... uh... "droppings" at the same time.


BackYardChickens.com "Best Diverse Flock Picture" Winner

BackYardChickens.com - If you like Chickens, you'll love this site.

Farm Tour

2011-04-06T17:39:00.000-07:00

Just cruising around my little farm today, enjoying the sights and sounds as everything wakes up from the rainy, cold winter. Hope you enjoy the sights!

Because It's Been TOO Long

2011-04-02T00:52:00.000-07:00

It's time for some chicken love.
After all - that's why I am here. It's why I exist. It's why I breathe...

Just kiddin'. But I am gonna throw some chick pics up for those of you who've been wondering why on EARTH I'm not bragging about my new babies. They aren't babies now, more like adolescents, but here they are when they were pretty new!

Photo shoot!

Chatting around the water cooler

Oh, and for some reason this gorgeous rooster just happened to land here. Pay no attention.

Oh, and so did this picture of my chickie-sitter. He's the best.

Alright people... keep moving. There's nothing more to see here.

Marital Suicide

2011-04-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

This is one of those days where I really have no business talking about marriage. My own skills at being a wife today aren't looking so brilliant, but somehow I'm feeling tugged to write about the importance of marriage. This might seem trivial at first, but we're gonna go with the basics. I'm not going to say much just yet. Let this list of words speak for itself.

Marriage:

a relationship in which two people have pledged themselves to each other as a husband and wife
the social institution under which a man and woman establish their decision to live as husband and wife by legal commitments, religious ceremonies

Vow:

a solemn promise, pledge, or personal commitment
to pledge or resolve solemnly to do, make, give, observe, etc

Commitment:

a pledge or promise; obligation
engagement; involvement

To commit:

to bind or obligate, as by pledge or assurance; pledge: to commit oneself to a promise; to be committed to a course of action.
to entrust, especially for safekeeping;
to do; perform

Pledge:

a solemn promise or agreement to do or refrain from doing something

Promise:

a declaration that something will or will not be done, given, etc., by one
an express assurance on which expectation is to be based
to assure

Faithful:

true to one's word, promises, vows, etc.
reliable, trusted, or believed.
steady in allegiance or affection; loyal; constant

Honor:

honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions
to show a courteous regard for

Devotion:

profound dedication; consecration.

Cherish:

to care for tenderly; nurture
to hold or treat as dear

Submit:

to defer to another's judgment, opinion, decision
to yield oneself to the power or authority of another

Obey:

to comply with or follow the commands, restrictions, wishes, or instructions of another

Love:

affectionate concern for the well-being of others

Death:

the act of dying; the end of life; the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism.
extinction; destruction

Now on the flip side of that...

Divorce:

the undoing or breaking of a bond, tie, union, partnership, etc.

Dissolution:

a bringing or coming to an end; disintegration; decay; termination.

Forsake:

to quit or leave entirely; abandon; desert

Selfishness:

devoted to or caring only for oneself; concerned primarily with one's own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others.

Irreconcilable

a person, especially a member of a group, who will not compromise, adjust, or submit
one of two or more conflicting ideas or beliefs that cannot be brought into harmony
a person or thing that is implacably hostile or uncompromisingly opposed

Sin:

a willful or deliberate violation of some religious or moral principle

Suicide:

destruction of one's own interests or prospects

Seems pretty obvious in black and white doesn't it?

I'm often torn when confronted with the issue of divorce. Is it right? Is it wrong? It's a "choice", it's a "decision" it's "unavoidable", whatever it is, it's a PROBLEM. My feelings are different than many Christian wives because I've been through a divorce. I felt shame, sadness, regret. I felt like I would never be forgiven because I must have done something wrong. I was defective. I felt like a shadow had been cast over the rest of my life, like I was worthless. Surely God could never accept all of me and all of my broken pieces, and if God couldn't, then how could another man? But I couldn't have been more wrong.

God has accepted me. God has put peace in my heart. God helped me see through hours of studying HIS word and discussions with my mentors, that my divorce was not a divorce of convenience, or by my stubborn will. It was not a separation made by my choice nor would it be a forever stain on my heart.

I was abandoned, I was left behind by a man who was not following Christ, I was left free.

Free?

FREE!

1 Corinthians 7:15-16
But if the unbeliever leaves, let it be so. The brother or the sister is not bound in such circumstances; God has called us to live in peace. How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or, how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?

It wasn't instant. It wasn't all of the sudden, but through the years I have plainly heard the whisper of the Spirit stirring in my soul, "You can not save him. Only I can... go, and live your life. Love your children that I have blessed you with. Share your life with others. Join with another in this life, but only to glorify Me through your union. Share your story. Allow others to see your wounds, but even more importantly, allow them to see your healing.

My heart has slowly been healed. The gaping cracks and holes left there by what I thought was love, have been stitched together with the true words of our Heavenly Father. You are free. Live in peace.

This freedom in my heart comes from a loving God. The freedom to feel loved, to feel protected, and to feel right with my Creator. He has given me a new start.

To those who may be contemplating a divorce, wherever you are on your journey, I urge you to go back to the top of this list. Think about the reasons why you are making your decisions. Are they based on truth, or are they based on feelings? NO WHERE in the list above does it say anything about having mushy, squishy feelings about someone as the basis for being married. And quite honestly it doesn't say anything about Jesus in there either. I kept it that way on purpose for those who would use that as an argument. It's pretty simple that everything we have chosen to do up to this point is a CHOICE, and it's the same CHOICE that can bring you back into a marriage that your FEELINGS have pulled you away from. For me, choosing to follow Jesus meant a new marriage based out of mutual respect, honesty, accountability and choosing to love. As long as we choose to take care of each other, the mushy squishy stuff happens naturally. It's when we slack off, and choose a selfish path, that we find each other disagreeable. The bad feelings grow like weeds, tripping us up along the way.

Love is a choice, my dear ones. Honor is a choice. Devotion, faithfulness and promises. Serving the one you share a life with before you serve yourself. All are choices. I urge you not to commit marital suicide.What God has joined together, let no one separate - and that one, is you.

Little Lost Hen

2011-03-30T23:20:00.000-07:00

Today was a great day. The sun was out, the grass was mostly dry (although nearly a foot tall) and my youngest was itching to annoy his siblings. My husband came home to a hot cooked meal and (RANT WARNING!) he immediately hit my "I'm seriously annoyed with you" button so I was looking for an easy way out of the house, without it looking like I was just escaping to avoid cleaning up the kitchen.
So... I did what any other Mother would do and I donned work gloves, rubber boots and my favorite BackyardChickens.com hoodie. I hauled my son Christian out of the house with me, in his snow boots (because he can't find rubber ones that fit) and a pair of mismatched gardening gloves. We were gonna find us something to do in the yard! It didn't take long to assign him a job, because the evidence of our recent windstorm was still strewn all over our ~~jungle~~ lawn, and we all know that sticks aren't friendly with lawnmowers.

While he picked up sticks, I puttered around the chicken coop cleaning out the nests and discarding stuff that needed discarding. Unfortunately one of our ol' hens decided to lay her last egg, and she had quit life right on the nest. It was a sorry sight for sure. I scooped up her perty little self and she got a free ride to the front yard in a green bucket. I asked my son if he wanted to take a little walk so we could take care of the hen on the far side of our property. He was a little sad about the hen, and he walked with me to go send her on to wherever chickens go after they die.

We walked the long way down to the river while we checked the banks (which are shrinking every year due to some pretty bad erosion from the floods). We decided that her final resting place needed to be near the water. He helped me out, and soon we were saying goodbye to the sweet little adopted hen whose breed was always a mystery to us, but who gave us a cute set of chicks this last year.

My son turned to walk away. He wasn't noticeably upset, but you could smell the smoke from the wheels in his brain turning and I knew something was going on. Suddenly he turned back around, and grabbed my hands firmly in his. His eyes were squeezed shut as tight as he could get them and out of the blue he started praying. I am attached to my chickens, and although I really like them, I didn't shed any tears over a completely natural death. But man... I darn near burst out crying just witnessing the precious words tumbling over my little boy's lips. He prayed that wherever chickens go after they die, that this particular chicken would be well cared for and he thanked Jesus for the time we got to spend with her. He is sure that since chickens give us so much joy on earth, that there would surely be chickens in heaven. This hen was a beauty. A wheaton color, and one of the most nervous chickens I've ever owned. Rightfully so, as she had been captured wandering the streets of the neighboring community and was dropped off at our house by a complete stranger who wanted to make sure she was cared for.

Sometimes I feel like we are like lost little hens. We wander the streets in search of some protection, some nourishment and some shelter. Our Heavenly Father scoops us up, and puts us right where we need to be, as long as we're willing to trust Him, and allow Him to lift us up. He puts us with families that love us, friends that deeply care, mentors to guide us, and yet He continues to watch over us even when we think we don't need Him. Sure, we run into the occasional difficulty, the days we get forgotten by others, the times when danger lurks just outside the fence of safety, or when we get ourselves into predicaments that seem impossible, but you know what? That's life. That's life for everyone. And death is a part of life. It's how you live your life now that determines what your death will be like.

Trust God, allow Him to guide your steps. Believe that He is who he says he is. Rely on the fact that He has your bests interests in mind, and live your life accordingly. Accept the blessings that come your way, and bless others along the path of your life while you're at it. You will be richly rewarded.

I don't know about you, but like my son, I sure hope I get to keep chickens on my little farm in heaven. I just kinda hope they have chickens that don't poop :o)

Drug of Choice

2011-03-13T01:14:00.000-08:00

I'm here to admit something today, to open myself up like a book and let everyone see just what has really been going on in my life. I'm not sure if anyone else has problems with addictions, or addictive behaviors, but I've got to share something that's really been weighing me down. Here goes.

I'm addicted to fabric.

There, I said it. I love fabric. I love the designs, I love the feel, I love the colors, I love the simplicity of some, and I love the intricacies of others. I can't help it. I could look at fabric for hours. And I have. And I will do it again. I'm ashamed of my addiction, but I've also not hit rock bottom yet. This means that for someone like me, trying to help me just won't work. I have to want to get better.

My husband is partially to blame because like every addict, I have to be able to blame my problems on someone else. It's pretty much his fault because he bought me that deliciously wonderful sewing machine. I'd never sewn more than a few hundred stitches in my life before this last few weeks. If he hadn't enabled me, I might be on the road to recovery, but it's just not so. I've fallen head over heels in love with words like "Jelly Roll, Layer Cake, Fat Quarter, Charm Pack and Honey Bun". I've also been known to sneak onto websites when my family isn't looking to get reminders on how to make a Disappearing 9 Patch for the next quilt I am working on. I've even been caught buying pre-cut squares on eBay. It's true... and as horrible as it sounds, I can't seem to stop thinking up new designs or color combinations.

I'm a lost cause. Don't even bother trying to get help or set up an intervention, because chances are I'll just bring you down with me. And you'll do it smiling. Just like I am.

Why Mornings Are Difficult

2011-02-02T08:39:00.001-08:00

Dear Son of mine,

In case you hadn't noticed yet, it really is important that you get dressed BEFORE the school bus shows up. The meltdowns that ensue on your part every time you see it drive on by without you are really starting to get on my nerves. It's your own dang fault, so I suggest trying a different approach.

For example, try actually putting your pants ON instead of rolling around on the floor with your feet in the air while singing at the top of your lungs. While dancing the jig may be popular in some parts of the world, dancing with one sock on while losing the other one as you flail with flair from room to room doesn't get many rave reviews at this house. Especially not when my eyes are having a hard time being open.

I really don't understand how someone as brilliant as you can put your shoes away the night before, only to be completely unable to find them by the time the sun comes up. And for the love of everything holy, why are you wearing your backpack without a shirt on? God help your future wife.

Sincerely,

Your ~~Worn Out~~ Loving Mother

Coming Clean

2011-01-21T00:06:00.000-08:00

I'm about 2/3 of the way through my Year in Review post for 2010, but rather than wait for it to finish itself, I felt compelled to write something before January ended. I decided a couple years back to post a review annually as a way to keep some sort of track of the highlights of each year - you know, in case I only wanted to look back on one post a year or something. Or in case anyone else was remotely interested. (You know you are.)

This endeavor is taking me quite a bit longer than usual. I'm not sure why, but I think it's just not as fun as before. In looking back over our last year, I've noticed an increasing sense of... hmm... I can't quite come up with the word. It's not "darkness", it's not "doom and gloom", it's not "horrible, awful, terrible or BAD", it's just... blah. Yeah, that's it. BLAH. My year was "blah". I feel as though somewhere along the way I lost the sparkle in my day, the energy in my activities, and the exciting streak of creativity that came along with doing all the things I liked to do.

Where do you suppose my "sparkly" went? I guess it went the way of two years filled with multiple deaths in our family, one never quite getting realized before another one occurred. That would probably dampen the sparkle in anyone's year. I'll add to my list of moans and groans the fact that I'm currently trying to raise a daughter in High School and a daughter in Middle School (HELLO hormones and frequent attacks of drama-queen), plus my boys are each attending separate schools so I've got too much to keep track of. My husband is working loads of hours more than he used to, while getting paid less. Our bills reflect our increasing financial struggle, and our house reflects the fact that my Seasonal Affective Disorder hit MONTHS earlier than it normally does.

BOY HOWDY. I forgot to mention Marriage Counseling, therapy for Post-traumatic Stress, trying to adjust to a new church and less time with close friends plus coming to grips with the fact that my weight loss goals have completely and utterly eluded me. Hmm... I think I just figured out where my sparkle went.

This past weekend I got to have a little chat with God about all of this. It seems like it's been ages since I've had one of those good heart-to-heart talks with God about my life, my direction and my purpose and actually have time to listen without any time constraints. Maybe it's because it was the first time I was alone without kids, a mess, chores, a husband, electronic devices, phone service or a schedule to keep in ages. It was somewhat unsettling to just be alone with God. But it was good. It gave me a tiny bit of Sparkle back.

Since I returned home, I've been determined to keep that spark alive. I'll feed the fire with more frequent time with my friends, time just to listen to my husband, time just to hug my kids, a resolve to love myself more and hold on to an attitude of gratitude about what I DO have and what I'm blessed with everyday. I'm also planning some things for my future that I'll share as they develop. I'm still "waiting and listening" for the direction I need to go, but I'm pretty sure it involves employment in my near future. It may be temporary until our circumstances change, but it may be longer. I don't know for sure, but I'll certainly keep ya posted.

I Can't Stand It!

2010-11-19T00:26:00.000-08:00

Ok so ya'll probably thought you'd come here to find a blog about me wigging out over something dramatic, but you were wrong. This is just for fun, it's not dramatic at all... merely factual. *cough* And dramatic.

I saw someone I admired (Chris August, one of my new favorite musicians, to be exact) in a video recently where he showed the rest of us how to make his favorite chocolate chip cookie and milk recipe. It was pretty amusing. He modeled his short video after a conglomeration of some famous cooking shows (much to my delight) but what he was making pretty much turned out to be some sort of an edible cookie-paste. I was not interested at all in trying his "recipe", but I was intrigued as his humor, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the things that really got my goat. Not the goat out in my pasture, but my GOAT. The thing inside me that makes me do some sort of an internal grimace whenever I'm confronted with the goat-getting thing. In this instance, it was the fact that he was crumbling up cookies and the crumbs were going everywhere. That sort of stuff bugs me and I never really quite realized it until I was watching him.

So - over the course of the day I've come to realize that I have several things on my "I Can't STAND It!" list. And, I wanted to share them. Because you know you've been dying to know this ~~stupid~~ very interesting stuff about me.

Stuff I CAN'T STAND (in no particular order, but mostly in my kitchen)

1. Crumbs all over the place. If you're gonna munch something up, at least have the decency to hang whatever you're munching things with out over a plate, bowl, sink or garbage can. Or go outside. Yeah, do that.

2. Milk left out. Take it out, use it, put it back. It's that simple. (In the video, I noticed that Chris put his concoction in the fridge for fifteen minutes. The camera cut away during that time, but when he came back, the milk was STILL sitting on the counter. See? My goat was got right there!

3. Putting short stuff on the tall shelves. If it's short, put it on a short shelf. It's that simple. If there's a small jar of relish sitting next to the big ol' gallon of milk, I'm gonna have to do some unplanned rearranging, because relish doesn't really need that much headroom. I don't like doing that rearranging thing because I come across this next doozy...

4. Plastic wrap on leftovers. Stop that before I slap ya. Use the dadgum containers with lids. That way when you stack the bowl of refried beans on top of the corn, it doesn't fall in and swim for three days before it gets noticed.

5. Open glasses of beverages in the fridge. Seriously? The only one allowed to do that is ME. And that's because, and I promise, I'm the only one who ever cleans them up when they get hit with a plastic wrapped bowl of refried beans floating in corn and knocked over backwards to spill down the rear of the fridge, into the veggie drawer where it soaks my celery in a milky brine (for three days before anyone notices).

6. Ice cubes on the floor. Do you really think that nobody will notice? Hello people, I wear socks in the house. I will notice. It may be somewhat room temperature by the time I do, but it will happen. And from now on,when it does happen, I will track you down and put whatever else is stuck to the bottom of my sock into your icy cold beverage. You won't even know I was there.

7. Refrigerated empty containers. You've all come across one of these specimens before. The empty juice container in the fridge, simply chilling out with nothing in it. It gives me such a sense of disappointment whenever I happen upon this type of mystery. First, I'm alarmed at who on earth would think of doing something so dreadful (since we are all about loving and serving each other, right?) Second, I'm sorely disappointed that I don't get to drink whatever my tastebuds were primed and ready for. It's a bummer. And someone around here is gonna get pizza with no toppings for dinner one of these nights. That'll teach ya!

8. Missing utensils. Where on earth did my wire mesh colander go? I mean really, can it just vanish overnight? One day I'm happily rinsing black beans, the next day I'm left to use one of those plastic jobbies with the too-big holes punched in the bottom. It's probably out dancing with my favorite slotted spoon in the mucky flowerbeds, or hanging out with my best stainless steel bowl in the rain soaked chicken yard. Who does this stuff?

For the most part, the people who do this stuff are the ones I live with. I'm pretty sure some of these people live at your house too, so please go right ahead and sound off about the MOST annoying thing that goes on in your kitchen. Is it the bread bag that never gets closed? The ice cube tray left empty? I could suggest the missing blocks of cheese. One minute it's there, the next it's gone because someone was overcome with starvation and polished off a whole container of something that was set aside for tomorrow's special potluck dish (that drives me crazy too!) One day, an entire package of bologna disappeared. I didn't even know it was gone until the next day - after I spent the whole night at my son's bedside because he was violently ill with the stinkiest vomit you've ever smelled. Can you believe he still asks for bologna sandwiches after all that? Something is wrong with that boy.

Anyway, I've about had enough of my carrying on. Thanks for listening. I hope you had as much fun as I did.

Return to Sender

2010-11-12T15:56:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling the need to write about something near and dear to my heart, and until today I haven't had the words formed in coherent sentences enough to actually put pen to paper. I pretty much put pencil to paper in this case. It took me all of 15 minutes to finally ~~write~~ scribble it out this morning, and now I feel led to share it here. I sure hope I can read my own handwriting. Over the past few months I've been going through some pretty ugly stuff while uncovering layer upon layer of the hurts that have been buried deep in my soul. I am chipping away at the hard shell that has surrounded my heart, and in doing so, I'm finding that some of what I have inside that tough exterior, needs to get outside in order to soften my insides and make me the person God desires me to be.

On the subject of rejection and love...*

God's greatest command can be summed up into one word: Love.

That one word has big meaning - for sure, the word itself has a variety of different meanings and connotations in our culture, but for this exercise let's say God says AGAPE.

Among other things: Love one another. Love the unlovely. Love the unloveable. Love your enemies.

He doesn't say love your tacos, love your shoes, love your car or love your pizza toppings. (I'm pretty sure I DO love my pizza toppings, but whatever)

The problem with love, is that love always means risking rejection. The only thing we need to create rejection, is to have relationships with others. Rejection can be one of the most painful forms of injury to another human being. It can wound deeper and last much longer than any other type of wound I could imagine. I do know this from first hand experience. As a daughter, as an ex-girlfriend, as an ex-wife, as a former employee, as a past student, and a MOTHER, I'm sure someone somewhere can relate to the type of feeling that you used to be something that now you're not. And in the case of daughter or mother, just mention the word "criticize, ignore, or feel judged" and pretty much anyone can relate to the kinds of rejection that play out in those particular relationships.

Rejection causes us to do things we might never have considered doing before. This comes from that empty feeling that rejection causes in our hearts. Meaningless relationships, bouncing around from one addiction to another, hurting others because we ourselves hurt, the list goes on. Strong's Concordance includes the word "vacant" in the Hebrew definition of "rejected". We become open to attempting to repair our hurt with often disastrous results. We set ourselves up for failure in the name of recovering from rejection by our own means. This is how the enemy overcomes us, by destroying us with fear.

You can't begin to believe some of the things I've done to fill the vacancy that rejection has left in my heart. Thankfully God has allowed many doors to be slammed in my face in order to reveal His plans and His glory in my life. He has allowed rejection in parts of my life in order for me to be open to reconciliation! I would have no concept of what the value of unfailing love felt like if I had never endured the failed love and failed relationships in my past. God knew what was best for me all along, but it has taken many years to see some of those things come full circle... and I'm pretty sure I'm not even all the way around that circle yet.

The really unfortunate thing about rejection is that it causes a change in our vision. Sometimes that change can be permanent if we don't allow God to do the healing inside us. Once we become hurt in this terrible way, it's possible that our ability to enjoy and build new relationships can become very clouded. We see new people, new friendships, new love interests with a sort of suspicion. It can be quite innocent, and most of the time we rarely even know that we're behaving this way, but it shows up in our relationships in mostly negative ways as time progresses. We constantly wonder who is going to hurt us next, so we don't ever quite put ourselves all the way out there, or open up completely to those we expect to open up to us. In return, we are now the ones doing the rejecting, by withholding part of ourselves, and people we relate to can feel it. It becomes a vicious cycle. Eventually this method of self-protecting becomes like second nature, and it appears that everyone else has a problem. The rejection continues, the feelings are justified, and it simply escalates.

How have you ever been rejected in your past? Have you given your heart fully to someone, only to have that door slam right in your face? Have you trusted that one good friend to stick with you through thick and thin only to get stuck with the feeling that you're not good enough? Have you tried to please someone you loved with all your heart only to hear things like, "I don't care", or "You didn't do it right" or "I could do better"?

Are you not pretty enough?

Are you too thin?

Are you too fat?

Are you not talented enough?

Have you been thrown away, discarded, passed over or kicked to the curb?

Are you defective?

Friends, I'm here to tell you that rejection, and all the hurt and pain that come from it, are NOT FROM GOD. God does not make rejects. He does not make defects. He is LOVE. He loves you and He made you just the way you are for a purpose. God commands us to love, but in reality He does allow those doors to close on us so that we may come to know His true, never-ending, unfailing love. He is sovereign. If He lets it happen, then there will be something good that will come of it. You can be sure! In this I also have first hand experience!

We must allow God to clear away the fog of mistrust, the feelings of fear, the crippling effects that rejection leaves us with. If we allow Him to take the pain that so heavily bogs down our hearts and minds, he will show you a better way to love others.

Rejection can change the outlook of every single relationship we ever attempt to get involved with if we are dragging around this load of baggage from our past failures. Satan desires nothing more than for us to destroy ourselves, and this is how he goes about his plan. He has a will for us, and simply put, it is for us to live in constant fear.

Let's begin to look at this with clearer vision. We love others because Christ loved us first. He didn't wait for us to accept him - HE took the first step. Guess what happened? He was rejected by his own. No, I didn't say his enemies rejected him, we already knew that, but his own people rejected him. This happens to us too. Jesus Christ was also rejected by you, and by me. How painful that must be for Him.

If we begin to love others as God has instructed us to do - to love selflessly, without letting anything else get in the way like fear, mistrust, and pride, then the only thing people can reject is God IN us. And that, my friends, is for God to take into account. Let me say it again, It's not YOU that others may reject, it is God IN you.

We'll be known as Christ's disciples by our love towards one another. Being rejected for that is very much an occasion to rejoice.

1 John 3:20 states that God is greater than our hearts. How cool is that? Our big ol' sappy, sorry hearts. Sometimes they feel like they are carrying the weight of the world, but that's nothing compared to our God. He is so much bigger than our hearts. What a wonderful thought! Even the most devastating, most painful, most terrible rejection we could ever face - is covered completely by the love of our Heavenly Father. He is greater than our hearts.

Loving others is a choice to obey. Living in fear of rejection is a choice to turn away from the gifts our Lord has given to us. It's the opposite of doing the will of God. Give your pain over to the Father, allow Him to heal you, to wash away your sad feelings and to change the pictures of the past into the new story of your future.

Love never fails.

*Many of these thoughts were gained through the series I'm studying through by Beth Moore: Living Beyond Yourself. I highly recommend it if you have an extra seven to twelve hours a week you're willing to specifically devote to working through where the scriptures and text may lead you.

Love it or Loathe it

2010-10-11T22:28:00.000-07:00

I got myself a whole collection of sighs today. Yep, those big breathy noises we make when life is trying to suck the air out of our brains. Our family is going through one of those tiny little bits of life that will inevitably have a big impact on our future. I can't really chat it up about what's WRONG nor do I feel inclined to go on and on about what's RIGHT, but I can say that it's just weird.

It's weird that I want to stay home and not be anywhere else.
It's weird that my husband calls to talk and then I decide to argue
It's weird that I have every good intention of making the best of something and then somehow, I completely obliterate it until I can't even recognize what I was trying to do in the first place.
It's weird that the spiritual food I've been eating for months hasn't been filling me up. At all. I wonder if I'm subconsciously tossing it to the dog instead of taking it for myself
It's weird that I need more from myself. I want something deeper. I crave fulfillment and purpose. I need focus.

I miss my friends. And maybe that's something I'm lacking - because when I'm with them I feel great. When I'm alone, I feel like crap. I guess it's because my friends say nicer things to me than I do to myself, eh?

I have a checklist in my mind of things I know I want to start doing again. I also have a list of things in my life that I want to ERASE so that they don't bother me so much anymore and drag me down. Not necessarily a person, but things and duties and yes... I suppose even people.

I've was recently inspired by Marcus Buckingham. He spoke to several thousand women like me this past weekend at a Women of Faith Conference. He talked about all sorts of things that were VERY applicable to my life as it is right now, but I came away with one sure thing. I know I need to take advantage of his idea to make a list of all the things in my life, in one week, that I either LOVE or LOATHE.

Then systematically, I can pluck the things I loathe from my life, while putting more energy into those things I love. The things I do that I love, are quite clearly, my gifts - my talents - my inspirations. In those things, I can do positive work. I can be a positive person. I can SAY positive things. I want to be positive... I love it :) I'm writing down "Blogging" on my "love it" list right now.

On this day nine years ago...

2010-09-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

...I was sending my kids off to school.
I was preparing to leave for my college orientation.
I was skipping breakfast.
I turned on the TV and was shaken to the core of my being.
I stared in utter confusion as the live coverage
unfolded before my very eyes.
Then the second tower got hit.

Praying for our beloved country and its leaders
today more than ever...

The Diagnosis is in...

2010-09-10T19:44:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I cannot organize my thoughts to save my life right now. And I don't give a crud. So if you're reading, you're getting it raw and real. I'm not apologizing for nothin. Dig in!

Over the past few months I've been blogging very minimally, at best. I have no excuses. I was here, I had internet connection, I had some time. But nothing ever got through to "PUBLISH". On the flip side, I've been thinking a lot of blogs. In a way, I wished I'd actually written some of them so I could look back someday and see how far I've come. Sort of like a bookmark placed in the reference section of my mental library.

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned before how much I do not like to whine about myself. Oh, I'll do it all day if it's funny, or to poke fun at myself, but lately it hasn't been too funny. Also, I do not like to feel needy or vulnerable or weak. But the truth is, I am. I have gone from the extremes of feeling like I'm literally hanging on to life by a thread, to feeling so completely overwhelmed with joy that I can barely contain it. It's a strange, strange place to be.

I thank God for my family and friends. I thank Him for the blessing of fellowship with others, which has quite honestly been one of the few things to keep my feet on the ground this year. It's like medicine for the hurting heart. Only recently have I realized just how badly my heart has been injured, and it's not going to be easy to fix it, but it's the season to get 'er done. God has provided me a blank spot in my life schedule for a reason, I believe and I'm not gonna blow it.

I mentioned in a previous post that Mr Nice Guy and I are in counseling. I still say it's one of the best gifts we've ever given each other. During the "discovery" phase of our sessions, it came to light just how much trouble I've been having with anxiety. I know it's been an ongoing problem, it's just not been quite as bad before, for as long of a period of time. I guess you could say it's escalated to the point of being downright scary.

Our counselor asked me to come in for some sessions that were just the two of us, to talk through some of those things that I may not have been able to verbalize with my husband present. It's not that I've ever outright hid anything from my spouse, but I guess in a way we all keep some things to ourselves in order to protect others from feeling the same pain we went through. Is that right to do? Is it wrong? I'm not sure, but I'm not here to say it's ok or not, it's just a fact that people do it as a method of self-preservation, or to shelter those around them from similar pain. I also typically choose to keep it off my blog pages. I don't want to hurt anyone else or make anyone else feel responsible or sorry for me, but just for today (and maybe tomorrow or the next day too) I'm grabbing this page because it's MINE, and I'm just gonna write. And publish.

Needless to say, that first session on my own with our counselor was a really difficult one. As he helped me peel back the layers of my pain to help me see where it was really coming from, it felt as if he was literally tearing away pieces of me. We dug so far back that we both learned (pretty much at the same time) that not only had I been traumatized once, but twice. And these traumas weren't the type that lasted for a brief second, but they went on for periods of weeks, months and years. It was quite a moment of awakening. It really helped me to see that my current circumstances weren't what was causing my pain, or our marital disagreements, or the discord in my home, it was the past that still lingered. Unresolved. Unacknowledged. And unforgiven. I felt so child-like, so little and so very, very vulnerable. I wanted to curl up in a fetal position and suck my thumb. I needed someone to stroke my hair and tell me everything would be alright. In a way, my counselor did that - only he kept his hands to himself. :)

The one thing he said that made me literally melt into a pile of puddles was, "You're not defective."

I can't really verbalize how much that hit me square in my soul, but let's just say it did. When you go through life feeling like you can't measure up, and like everything you've ever done really doesn't mean anything unless it's just right, or trying to do things in a certain way to keep people from leaving your life or rejecting you, then words like that mean more than winning a kazillion bucks. To the little girl sitting in my counselor's office that day, it meant that I was good enough. Hallelujah and Amen.

I went through counseling in High School for some related issues - but I have to say that at that point when I was asked to find my "inner child", I really couldn't possibly do that, because in reality, I still was a child. Today, I get it. I can say I know that feeling now, and it's just bizarre! It's also exhausting. I hope I don't have to do it much longer. I want to grow up soon.

I'm so insanely grateful that this is happening right in the middle of marriage counseling, because I really feel like I have someone on my side to hold me through this stuff... and a best friend to encourage me and to keep me upright to get through to the other side. That other side: The joyful side of me, the side that I miss.

I believe that my inability to discuss some of my past with the people of my present, has kept those emotions and feelings buried so deep, that when they bubble to the surface, it makes a big mess. Right now, we're mopping up tears, sweeping away hard feelings, and dusting the cobwebs off of my memories that have such a stranglehold on my life. I'm looking for the positive, seeking encouragement, and holding on to the Word to show me my next steps.

I guess this is the part where I actually mention that our counselor revealed to us yesterday at our couple's session that he firmly believes I am suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress. He said he'd been thinking about what I'd told him all week, and he kept going back to the neatly typed list of only 20 "eye-brow raising" symptoms that I'd been really suffering with, and he couldn't see it as anything but obvious. Obvious to anyone but me, I guess.

Insert big, long pause... because that's what I did when he told me.

Is it really that big of a deal? It feels like I got diagnosed with cancer when all I had was an itchy, little mole. "Are you SURE? It's that big of a deal?", my brains said. And actually, they keep saying that. But, I guess so. And, aside from all my feelings of needing to downplay things, I really do have to trust that our counselor, who himself lived through his own horrors in Vietnam and dealt with his own PTSD afterwards, might actually know a thing or two about what he's saying. It's very humbling, to know that I've been trying to tough this out for so long, but now here I am, laying flat on my face trying to put the pieces of my life in order and all it's taken, is someone else to glance over my "big picture" and state in plain english what I've been trying for years to pretend didn't exist.

In a way, it all makes sense. And I have to admit it's embarrassing. I can't help but feel that sensation of my cheeks warming up whenever I think about allowing anyone to view that "List of 20". Just knowing someone might even read this post to the end makes my heart rate go up, but it's all about keeping it real. And I want to do that. Even if it's not funny.

So for now, my sweet husband and I are focusing on staying far away from those things that are my "triggers", the stuff that sends me inexplicably "over the edge" and has, for years, caused him to think I'm some sort of wacko. Now, he would never actually SAY that (for fear of his own safety) but I can read his mind you know, and I'm pretty sure that's what I heard. We're also teaming up to eliminate anger, emotional outbursts and painful words from the vocabulary of members of our household - which could take a while, considering the sheer number of hormones that we are up against. But the good news is that we're already seeing the benefits of intentionally living a more Christ-like life, which is what it all boils down to. It's where we want to be. I have faith that God will heal me and I look forward to this chapter of my life no matter how painful it might be to wade through it all. It surely can't be more painful than the past. Only this time I have hands to hold on to.

School is great but learning is everywhere

2010-09-08T19:57:00.000-07:00

In honor of my sweet daughters (one of whom has successfully made it to her freshman year of High School alive), I thought it fitting to share this list of advice. It's a delightful (yet much abbreviated version) of a piece written by Charles J. Sykes, author of Dumbing Down Our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves, but Can't Read, Write or Add.

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2: The world doesn't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Think Twice, Speak Once

2010-09-02T23:44:00.000-07:00

Think twice, speak once... that's the title of an article I got from a Sparkpeople email today and it really got me thinking about how that kind of advice sure could prevent a lot of unnecessary trouble. The particular article ended with, "Once you have said something out loud it cannot be taken back, and rarely can it be undone even with a tremendous amount of work."

It's so ironic how I sometimes get messages like this in my inbox, either from subscriptions I ask for, or from people who get placed in my path, that are so applicable to what I'm going through in my life right now. Not very many people know that my husband and I are currently in marriage counseling. It's been a long time coming, and I'm quite sure it's the best decision we could have ever made for our future and for our family. I'm so grateful just to have an opportunity like this, and so thankful that he has chosen to come alongside me and to strengthen the bonds that keep us holding on to one another. At the same time, however, it saddened me deeply to HAVE to get to this point - as I know that God's idea of marriage wasn't for us to go all destructo on things before we both figured out it was time to stop taking care of everyone else and get some help for us.

Lately it feels like we're not the only ones in the rocky marriage boat. I'm pretty sure I'd feel a lot more happy if we were all alone on that boat, but to see many of my friends and my family aboard this not-so-loving Loveboat cruise makes me really afraid that something has gone horribly wrong. Typically I'd prefer that those I love be standing on SHORE waving at us, and encouraging us to steady our craft and keep up the work so we could be on solid ground with them soon, but instead they're bouncing around on the same rickety boat. The one that tosses it's victims from one side to the other with no regard for the little kids rolling around on deck getting trampled in the process. Not pretty.

Everyone has a different story. Some have to do with addictions that have been swept under the rug far to long, recurring problems with abandonment or rejection that stem from childhood mistreatment, abuse issues that never really got dealt with, worry, self-doubt, lack of trust in others and in God, the list goes on, but most of all there is this screwed up belief that we need to take care of SELF, and not others.

A wise friend stated that you must first put on your oxygen mask before you can help those around you. And I believe that is absolutely true - but I think somewhere that statement gets completely misinterpreted. We don't put on our oxygen mask instead of helping others. We also don't badmouth, intimidate, lose our temper or force our will onto someone else to get them to put their mask on. We HELP them. I think somewhere along the way in marriage, the thought of helping or serving those around us gets lost in the whole idea of "I need to take care of myself first". Then the rest of the thought process, the part about helping others, drops off into oblivion and doesn't get revisited until a few anniversaries later when the pretty bride and handsome groom finally remember that they are in this thing to honor, respect and love each other as Christ loved the church. Nowhere does Christ say to "Help yourself as you'd maybe, eventually, possibly, help someone else, if you feel so inclined, and if it's not your time of the month, or if he put the lid down on the toilet seat." He said, "Do to OTHERS as you would have them do to you". End of sentence.

Quite simply put, this really just says you are responsible for making the first step. This isn't at all about waiting for someone else to straighten up and pull his (or her) head out from wherever it's stuck. It's about you adjusting your own behavior, to be more Christlike, and to be less selfish.

Philippians 2:3-4

³Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. ⁴Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

To bring this point back to where I started in the first place (I do not ramble!), what comes out of our mouths must also be in the forefront of our minds as a way of caring for, and serving others. It's those words that will come back to haunt you when you aren't expecting it, because someone else remembers them. Those words etch into the brains of our children, friends, family and our mates - and those words can't be taken back. Can you go through the lengthy process of accepting and forgiving each other and getting a do-over? Sure! But is that an easy road to take? Heck no. I strongly advise taking the road of least trouble and just thinking twice and speaking once.

From my life experience, the words I heard in my past, now make up my present. So seriously, what kind of present do you want to give your family?

Totally random shot of an unknown couple who climbed on a big rock out in the surf to hug and watch the sunset together. It touched me, but...

I'm totally betting they have relationship problems too.

High School Camp

2010-07-12T11:20:00.000-07:00

I have so many words to say about this last week of camp. I couldn't possibly fit them all into this space. Let's just say the Lord did his thing, and as usual it was loud and clear to me. I'm going to let these pictures show a little about our week - just a tiny taste. And hopefully I'll be able to come back soon and tell the story of how I got toothpaste in my eye. Or was it contact lens cleaner on my toothbrush? No, wait... it was both. Or how I got the short end of the stick and ended up being the main speaker for our Monday night session. Totally, completely unplanned... except God knew the plans all along.

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11

Yeah, camp is good!

I'm glad I didn't plan anything this summer

2010-06-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

I'm glad I didn't plan anything this summer, and the reason I'm glad is because if I had, I wouldn't have had time to do it. My summer is full. Booked up. Not much wiggle room. I'm busy!

So in case you're wondering what we're up to, I'll just give you the run down. Just a partial list. A taste...
We have:

Softball games twice a week
Practice on the other days
Baseball games twice a week
Disneyland trip for my firstborn
Weeding
Painting of the auto shop
Going away parties
Open gym three days a week
A week of camp for my oldest son
Weeding
A 12th birthday
A week of camp for Mr. Nice Guy and I with High School students
A rodeo
A week of camp for Princess D
Some Weeding
One week of Vacation Bible School
A long weekend at camp for my youngest
A week of camp for my Firstborn
Followed by most of a week in Wisconsin for Mr. Nice Guy
Lots of mowing and weeding
By that time, softball and baseball season will be over. We will have sent kids to youth group, small groups, 4H and orthodontist appointments each week just in time for the County Fair and a family reunion.
This will all be followed by a week of volleyball camp for the girls, registration for school and then daily doubles practice begins and all of the sudden... school!

Wow, I'm SO glad I didn't plan anything this summer! I just don't know where I'd find the time.

In Case Something Happens...

2010-06-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

I just want my readers to know that if I don't blog for a long time it's probably because school is coming to a close in 84 hours and I'm just about to die. Not that I'm counting down, but it's getting here pretty quick and so is the feeling that my head is going to explode. But before we get there, we first have to jump through a hundred hurdles that have names like, "Getting through the end of 8th grade and living to tell about it." That's just one of them actually. The others issues are things like, "Did you remember you had a first grader?", and "Hey, I'm your kid, do you remember me?" Oh, let's not forget about, "Are you ever going to be in a good mood again?" (For the record, NO, I'm probably not.)

My dear other children, I do know who you are, and right at the moment I even remember all your names. I think. But your sister is overwhelmed with all of the end-of-the-year crap and nobody in the whole entire household can function when she's spazzing out about everything. We love her dearly, but quite frankly, we just can't wait to be DONE with school! Even though it will only be a few hours after school gets out that she'll be moaning and carrying on and wishing she was back IN school so she could see her FRIENDS. Fat lotta good they are right now - nobody else stays up late helping her with history projects, models of monuments or the topic of xenophobia. How about dress shopping for that super important dance that has overshadowed everything else worthwhile for an entire two months? Good thing the dance turned out pretty cool - because I got some great pictures before I dropped her off for her three hours of dessert, silliness, and the dance with "that boy" that I got to hear all about on our way home.

Summer Vacation, we are SO ready for you.

The post that makes you gain a pound

2010-05-24T16:41:00.000-07:00

So here goes. I've been on this kick for the last few months to BETTER myself, to kick the habit of drinking my all-time favorite DR. PEPPER (which I have been successful at for over 300 days now!!) and most recently I went on a NO SUGARY FATTY NASTY FOR MY BODY stuff challenge. Two weeks - that's what I was going for.

It was the longest two weeks of my life. It was terribly painful and traumatic. This is the post in which I heal from that horrid memory.

I made these today. Someone got me a birthday present and so I was trying it out. It worked goooood. (Too bad I didn't get out my REAL camera though - I just used my iPhone, bear with me)

These are Pioneer Woman's "Spreads". They are pretty easy cookie bars - and pretty easy on the eyes too. I only ate one.

At a time.

Then, since my wonderful birthday present was such a fun thing to use, I kept on going!
I couldn't stop at dessert...

Mom - don't look! Don't say I didn't warn you!!

How about some yummy yeasty delicious rolls!

Yes, they do taste as good as they look. Maybe even better. You'll have to come over and share some with me.

I didn't forget a picture of my birthday present. I knew you wanted to see what color it was :)
This is a teensy peek at my new Stand Mixer... to replace the hand-held mixer I've been using since 1994.

It's gorgeous! It makes me want to feed my family - and actually plan ahead. Nice thinking on my hubby's part, don't you think??

One great day deserves a great BIG blog post

2010-05-10T12:40:00.000-07:00

To be classified as a good day - usually three out of six things must take place from the following list:

1. An activity or event that is not really planned, but anticipated
2. Some element of surprise - that isn't disastrous
3. Sunshine
4. People that we love
5. Good food and conversation
6. A wish comes true

To be classified as GREAT - then the number bumps up to five.
And excellent? All six.

The day before Mother's Day - in our family - is typically a day of tradition. We get up at the crack of dawn, find an outfit that is still clean, and probably not quite dressy enough, travel the hour and a half to my home town, attend the annual Mother's Day Tea/Brunch/Lunch/Whatever that the church has always put on since probably before I was born, and then we visit longer with my Mom & Dad, visit with my Grandma, and then we go home.

Usually that event fulfills three or four of my "good day" qualifications, but there's always something lacking. It's never GREAT.

I know someone will read this that knows me from way back and will wonder what kind of an ingrate I am. How dare I diss the Mother's Day Tea that practically helped me become the Mother I am today!? Well for goodness sakes, things like that have their place. They are lovely! But this year, I had more than just lovely to look for in making sure MY Mother felt honored, appreciated and enjoyed. I think we both knew that if we went to a Mother's Day Tea this year, that we'd cry more tears than we were prepared to cry, and we just didn't want to do that. Her Mom wouldn't be with us this year, and we wouldn't be able to go visit her either. How strange these first few holidays are after the death of a loved one. I'm realizing that I should be prepared to be continually caught off guard. Hmm... how to go about it?

So anyway, about my Mom, she never really verbalized that stuff to me, about how she'd probably get all emotional if she went to the annual Tea/Brunch/Lunch thing without her Mom and would rather not be there this time, but I'm pretty sure I can read her mind. (Gosh, sometimes it's scary in there) She did say she would rather do something ELSE with us this year - to which I almost TOO hastily agreed. (It's probably because I could sleep in. I'm shallow like that.)

We threw some general plans together. Nothing too detailed, but the general idea was in place and then we spent a couple days in anticipation. First, we ran into a problem. My in-laws had planned something else and we were invited. Then, the planned in-law event got canceled and we were all the sudden off the hook and back ON for our new-to-us-day-before-Mother's-Day outing. The best part about this outing? It included our whole family. Not JUST FEMALES. What's up with a bunch of women sitting around celebrating themselves anyway? I don't get that. No, wait... I do. Nevermind. *snicker*

So my parents showed up to our house around ~~11:00 as planned~~, ~~11:30 after a small delay~~, NOON because they stopped off at a place with nuts and chocolate along the way. We packed up our picnic lunch into the back of their new Chevy Uplander (yay Mom!!) and we all piled in. Our first stop was back at the haircutting place in the neighboring town where my beloved husband had left his coat behind after his haircut that morning. (I'm not the ONLY one who leaves things behind - I just prefer to leave my purse or wallet instead!)

Then, we went to a cemetery where none of our family members lived.

Yep. Umm hmm, You heard me right. We PLANNED to go to a cemetery.
After all these burials this past year, apparently cruising headstones had become somewhat of an interest to my Mother (and my kids) and they were off. I suppose if history and genealogy was something of interest, the rest of us would be doing that all the time too. It was fun actually. It was fun and sad all at the same time.

Here in this place, dozens upon dozens of people were memorialized by those who had loved them. It was touching. It was even more touching now that we'd all been there and done that too many times this last year.

The kids were fascinated by the names, we were fascinated by the dates. We tried to picture what it might have been like to be standing on this same hill in 1868. I think the one we pondered over the longest was a set of three headstones. All children. All siblings. All with the same date of death. We made up stories about what we thought might have happened. We decided, with our keen investigative skills, that it probably wasn't sickness - and for a moment our hearts broke for the family that was left behind after what must have been a most horrible tragedy.

We passed headstones of people that I knew in our community. Grave markers of the people whose names now mark streets and buildings in our little town dotted the hilltop and spilled down one side. Our interest peaked as we moved to the area of the more recent burials. Here, we came across a friend of my husband's who had been murdered when they were just fresh out of school. She was buried not more than three rows away from the young man who had taken her life. This one place, this quiet, beautiful place, held so many stories, and yet so many unanswered questions.

Then, we got hungry.

We traveled down the road a few miles to this adorable park that had been on my list of "places to return to" ever since we came upon it during a road construction detour a few years ago. I thought it would be cool to dine on the longest picnic table I've ever seen. It was constructed at one of our local sawmills out of a solid length of lumber that extends 85 feet from end to end.

That little dot at the end of the table is my daughter. I've told her not to sit on the table, but she just won't listen.This is her, pretending to be in trouble.

Which is pretty silly - considering she never gets in trouble :)

The views from this park were the kind of view I wouldn't mind having out my window or in a painting on my wall. Just beautiful. My Dad helped me compose a few...

I took one of my favorite parents (because my REAL parents aren't this much fun, right?)

After we ate lunch, played around awhile, and threw pinecones at each other... we proceeded to head towards Alsea Falls.

This is where the day moved from "good" into the "great" category. First, we parked at the campground entrance, which was about a mile from the falls, on a path that was on the opposite side of the river. No biggie, it was great weather (sunny!!) and I had on my new keds and was rearing to walk a mile. So we crossed the bridge and walked. And walked.... and walked some more. We found rushing water, but no waterfalls. About the time we came to another bridge that took us back to the original side of the river that we'd started on, we realized we had probably parked in the wrong spot. Thankfully it was only a mile back. Unfortunately, nature called and I had to hunt for a bathroom. I sent my kids further on down the path with my Mom, while my Dad hung back on a picnic table. I'm pretty sure my fast pace wore him out. (Riiiight!)

We searched around for a bathroom, but didn't have any luck. About the time the first raindrop hit my head I was already heading back down the hill towards the river to find the kids. The first raindrop was no big deal, but the next hundred that hit me a few seconds later were a surprise. (See... we just bumped up to the GREAT day category!) All the sudden, our perfectly sunny day - even according to the forecast - became a perfectly RAINY day. Not only rain, but hail. And lots of it. Bryan got the keys from my Dad and headed back for the car on down the road (instead of taking the trail on the opposite side of the river), Dad hid for cover under a tree after trying unsuccessfully to use a garbage can lid as some sort of shield, and then I slipped my way down the increasingly muddy trail toward the bottom of the falls to retrieve my excited children and my adventurous mother. By the time I got to my kids, they were squealing. I figured that like all hail storms, we'd be seeing sunshine in about 3 minutes. I wanted to get a good look at those waterfalls I worked so hard to see so I was really glad that I made my ~~packhorse~~ daughter haul my camera bag along.

Now at this point, you're not seeing any photos of a waterfall. The main reason is, the hail did NOT stop as anticipated. Matter of fact it began increasing in intensity and there was no way I could even get my camera out of the bag, let alone take any sort of photo that might resemble a waterfall. We all turned and dashed back up the hill (picture me dashing... try it... I dare ya). Ok, so I lumbered up the hill, while they dashed, and we all headed for cover. I tried hiding under a few trees, but fir trees with dead branches and bare limbs don't stop much hail. Wearing my sunglasses on top of my head provided some sort of protection from the bruising effects of the ice clumps falling from the sky - but they all got caught in my mess of hair.

Bryan showed up with the chariot and we couldn't get in fast enough. We were completely soaked. Nobody wore a raincoat, the boys just had on t-shirts with their jeans, we didn't have umbrellas or boots or anything even resembling protective outer gear. My light windbreaker soaked through to the front of my shirt and made it look like I was a mother to a hungry new infant - what terrible flashbacks that brought on! And what's worse is all the hail stuck in my hair started to melt. Fun stuff I tell ya! We dried off in the van with a roll of paper towels, and still the hail came down. Bryan drove us out of the hills and for a solid thirty minutes or so the hail came down like mad, the roads became covered in white, and my hair continued to melt.

Arriving home, we were surprised to find out that it was sunny as planned all day. We would have had to stay home to enjoy it. We finished off our evening with a yummy Taco dinner, our good friends the Anderson's joined us, and the conversation was delightful. After everyone went home - I sat down to practice my music for Sunday morning when one of my wishes came true. The weird part is that I noticed it in a text message. I'll save that for my next post - but let's just say I finally got to cross number three off my 101 in 1001 list and that, my friends, bumped my day right on up to EXCELLENT!

Happy Mother's Day Mom! Thanks for such a special day - one we won't soon forget.

It's a Fiesta every day

2010-04-22T01:42:00.000-07:00

This is why I haven't posted in awhile. I've been busy. I was having a fiesta. Matter of fact I have a fiesta every single day. Sometimes two or three times a day.All in all, I am in love with my new dishes.

I've also been busy doing other stuff, but that's not as exciting as my new Fiesta dishes. Are you tired of hearing "Fiesta" yet? Well I am, sooo I'll change the subject now. But if you want to see how I made that really yummy looking fruit dip, you'll have to read that post over here at the Nearly Rural Farmgirl Connection site where I contributed that little tidbit today. Speaking of tidbits, I'm going to throw out a list of what I've been busy doing, so as to remind myself when I come back next year, just how busy I was and how far I've come. (And how insane I can be, but that's another blog post entirely).

This past month:
I got to help with six of the productions of the play, Beauty and the Beast at the Middle School (fun!)
We had Spring Break
We took a trip to Idaho and got to meet our new nephew
I judged a spelling bee and made little kids cry (oh, now that's what pressure feels like!)
I grew closer to the realization that teens really do cause insanity
I found out my brother-in-law has lymphoma
We had Easter - it was pretty low key, but meaningful.
My husband turned 39 (Woah! Teetering on the edge there baby!)
We got new chicks - and then a few more - and then just two more - because that's how it always works.
My Mom got a new car (noteworthy!) It's actually a mini-van. So she can have room for all her grandkids (I sure do love her)
I helped run a mega time consuming fundraiser at our kids' school. I learned some more of my strengths and weaknesses during that couple of weeks.
I signed up 2 of my 4 kids for softball/baseball season. I've always been a bit worried about sports that chew into summer vacation time, but I think it will work out ok.
We signed my eldest up for High School *gulp!*
I helped with the district Band Concert, which was a HUGE undertaking, but one of the most fun things in a long time. (Not counting the vomit from the kid who got sick during rehearsal.)
I helped organize my husband's new (to him) office space. I wish I had that kind of initiative in my OWN space!

And right now? I'm procrastinating on my next project. A workshop on Teens and the Internet. It's frightening, and I desperately need occasional breaks from reality and statistics. Ugh!! Maybe I'll share my notes with you in the near future. Until then, I'm off to class - oh yeah, we signed up for a class this past month too, it's on "What Makes Your Middle Schooler Tick". I haven't learned what makes them "tick" yet, but I already have lots of lessons on what makes them "ticked off". Ha!
I'm outta here... for now.

P.S. I love my Fiesta Dishes.

The Back Acher's Practical Guide to Weight Loss

2010-03-10T16:41:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to say that I'm an expert, but I've been struggling with my weight long enough to declare myself "superior in the wisdom of what works and what doesn't". I've got a list here, of the tried and true ways that the weight stays off. Or at least it doesn't go UP (much), but whatever. These methods WORK. I should charge for this kind of advice. Or start a fan club.

BIRTHDAYS

When it's time for a birthday, don't spend all day making a cake and frosting. You will consume too many hidden calories when you lick the bowl. The spoon. The spatula. And the beaters. And the front of your blouse. Instead - go out and BUY a cake. It comes with free frosting.
When you share the cake, after a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday to you, You live in a zoo...", you should cut the cake into small pieces. You will be less inclined to eat a large one, and then when you go back for a second piece, you will have eaten less calories and fat by having two small pieces than if you had stuffed in two large ones. You see people? It's just simple math.
The day after a birthday, after you consume a piece of leftover chocolate cake for breakfast, you should throw a clean dish towel over the cake in order to keep it out of sight, and out of mind. This will keep you from downing the same amount of sugar for lunch too. Plus, it will make your dish towels taste better.

MEALS

The best method for keeping meals healthy, is to eat them on the run. Running (around town in a suburban full of children) + meals = heathy. Right??
Skip dessert. You probably already had some for breakfast anyway, and if you skip dessert after dinner, then you'll save yourself TONS of weight gain. If you feel the urge to have dessert, at least find something with protein in it, like peanut butter.
Sit down to eat with the family at least [fill in the blank] times per week. If you lose your appetite over the dinnertime conversations like I usually do, chances are, you'll not put away so many calories. If you increase the amount of times your entire family is required to eat together, then you will lose lots more weight over the long haul. Eat with your family - it's great for your health!

SNACKS

If you should decide to eat Cheetos for a snack, do yourself a favor and put some in a bowl, instead of hauling the entire bag around with you. This will keep your portion size down (to that of a large bowl of cereal) instead of an entire bag. This has extra benefits, in that you also won't have to explain to your children, who already saw the bag before it was ever opened, why they didn't get a single one. Keep this rule in mind: Your family will love you if you use a bowl, and so will your figure.
Let's say, hypothetically speaking, that the urge for ice cream as an afternoon snack comes into play. The way to avoid this, is to just not eat it. But we know that's not reasonable, so the method that works for me is to bury it in the deep freeze. Do this the second you bring home the ice cream, and then when the urge strikes, you will be less inclined to eat as much ice cream because you can't manage to get any out of the container without a lengthy process that takes entirely too much time and energy. You'll more than likely seek some other source of comfort and calories. Hopefully you will happen upon a carrot or or a stick of celery or something else, and you'll actually talk yourself into it. Good luck with that.
Peanut butter is a good alternative snack to things like chocolate cake and ice cream. But if the ice cream has peanut butter IN it, then you might as well go with the ice cream. Think of all the calories you will burn when you go out to dig it from the bottom of the deep freeze and attempt to chip out what resembles a scoop. Plus I'm sure the particular kind of peanut butter in ice cream packs as much protein and fiber as you'd expect from a jar of Jif anyway. And, to take it one step further, you are consuming a dairy product. Two birds with one stone. That's how I roll.

DRINKS

The best drink is water. Drink lots of it. But don't drink it in the morning if you have lots of errands to run, or you'll be spending all your time running back and forth to the bathrooms at fast food joints along the way. Then, you'll be inclined to order something fattening while you're there - for fear of being judged as one of those people that uses the facilities, but never pays the rent. Also - don't drink water in the afternoons, because you need to save up bladder space for the hours you'll spend sitting and doing homework with your kids. If they catch you getting up and wandering off, chances are they will too. Then nothing will get done. Also, forget drinking water at night. Trust me, getting lots of rest is good for your metabolism, and drinking all sorts of water in the evening will ruin that. So drink water when you can. Which is pretty much never.
Avoid alcoholic beverages. They are loaded with calories and they do nothing to benefit your health. Although, they do make you look more attractive to your husband, so give him drinks. As much as he wants, so that he will do things like take out the trash because he believes you are a hot super model wife.
Have that cup of coffee. But limit yourself to just a few cups an hour. Caffeine boosts your heart rate, so you can probably get more chores done during the day, and it will help burn off that cake you ate for breakfast. Coffee should actually be listed as a health food. I'm not sure why it isn't yet. Could be all the loads of creamer we like to dump in it. So, the solution for that is to stick with the fat free kind. We all know that fat free means there aren't any calories either, so it's good for you. Stock up on it.

In summary...
Being healthy is an option. I've listed everything I can think of to help you, and if you decide to screw up and have cake for breakfast two days in a row, don't say I didn't warn you. At the very minimum, keep up with your coffee habits, and eat lots of meals with your family. May you have many healthy years to come.

Beautiful

2010-03-08T12:20:00.000-08:00

It was a beautiful day

About a beautiful woman

Who had four beautiful children

Of those four beautiful children that she loved, three remain

And of those three beautiful children,

she came to love five beautiful grandchildren

And of those five beautiful grandchildren,

she came to love seventeen beautiful great-grandchildren

And of those seventeen great-grandchildren,

was this young boy

who looked upon her grave

with the utmost amount of stillness and sincerity

And it too, was beautiful

Mostly because it was the only time he stood still
for the entire weekend.

But you know what I'm sayin...

Our family had a going away party.

It lasted two days

There were balloons, flowers, and even cake.

There was music

There were heartwarming gifts, and stories about old times.

There were plenty of kids

and everyone went home with a smile in their heart and a tear on their cheek

And it really was... beautiful

You will be missed Grandma... thanks for the lifetime of memories.

Word Filled Wednesday 2 Peter 3:10

2010-03-03T16:53:00.000-08:00

The purpose of Word Filled Wednesday is to share the WORD through a photo and a verse.

It happens every Wednesday - but apparently I missed the boat. Or the last FEW boats. I haven't posted one in SEVEN months. Yeah, you read that right. Put away the "tsk tsk" sounds and read on...

Full sized version HERE

2 Peter 3:10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief; the heavens will disappear with a roar, the elements will be destroyed by fire and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.

~Ouch. If you have any doubt about your future or the coming of the Lord, I'd say this is as blunt as it gets. Get right with God. Do it now because tomorrow could just be a bit late. If you want to go to my church, there's plenty of seats. And you can wear jeans.
Or even camo.

This week's Word Filled Wednesday is being hosted by Penny Raine.

Click the button below to find more inspiration for the rest of your week!

What words?

2010-03-01T12:27:00.000-08:00

I wasn't really sure that after this past week's events, that I would have any words left to say by this morning. And I was right. I can't find my words but I have many thoughts. So I'm just going to let them tumble out and see what happens.

Our trip to California for my Grandfather's funeral service was really, really nice. We left Wednesday, and drove all day and arrived at my Uncle's home in Stockton by 9 p.m. We were made to feel especially comfortable, as usual, by my Aunt and Uncle and we all slept like rocks. Thursday morning we departed for Santa Nella, and the nearby San Joaquin Valley National Cemetary where my Grandfather was laid to rest. His service was just as a military service would be expected... spit shined and regulated. It was such a foreign concept to me, but I took great interest in the method by which they paid respects to every comrade, regardless of beliefs or opinions. I did admire that.

The bagpiper was a great touch. My Grandfather was very involved in the tracing his roots and participating in the Scottish Highland Games. This is one part of my heritage that I enjoy, and will be able to share with my kids because it was shared with me.

It was great to see my other relatives again, and pass out hugs (and kisses in this family!). The sun shone so brightly and the scenery was so breathtakingly beautiful, that it was really easy to see that God had wanted us to see and feel his presence wrapped around everything we did. After the service, we went to the top of a hill, where we could look out over the valley and see the plot where my Grandfather's remains were placed. We were not allowed graveside (again, strict regulations) until a couple hours later, but we opted to go back to the nearby town and have a meal as a large group before we all went our separate ways.

It was after the meal, as we were hugging and saying our goodbye's to most of our family that we got the phone call that my Grandma Alice had died during the preceding hour or so. I can't really express the thoughts that squeezed their way through my brains at that point in time. For one, I had a huge sense of relief that now my dear Momma wouldn't have to worry about when her Mother was going to go anymore. But, I also had an overwhelming sense of sadness that all of the sudden I had no living Grandparents and in the space of about a year both of my parents, and all of my Aunts and Uncles had become orphans.

We did know that my Grandma's hours were limited, and in a way we were hoping we could get back home in time to be with her. However, my Mother, always the logical one, had made most of the final arrangements before we even left. I think my Mom mostly worried that nobody would be there for her Mother like they had been for the ones who died before. I remember when my Grandpa Charlie was sick and dying, we couldn't chase off people away from his bedside, but with my Grandma's last weeks it was a lot different. Thankfully, she had loving people with her for her send-off. I know my Mom really appreciated that.

I am grateful that I was able to say my good-bye's on a day that I got both a huge smile and tears from her. I was so sad to let her go, she clung to me like a small child, with tears spilling out and over her frail cheeks and it was utterly heartbreaking to just walk away. Right now I'm pretty sure she's got tears running down her cheeks again, but not because she is sad. It's because she is so overwhelmed with happiness to be hiking the snowy mountains again, swimming in the ocean and running through the tall grass in heaven. Right now she is playing with all the little kids there whose parents haven't arrived yet and they are all calling her "Grandma". She always favored the children, and not just her own, but everyone else's as well. She was quite literally everyone's Grandma - and I'm delighted to have been able to share her with the hundreds of other kids who admired her and enjoyed her playful spirit during the years.

Loss isn't easy, losing loved ones hurts like heck - but in a way, this past year has been such a blessing to my life. It is one that has helped my family learn what loving others and putting each other first really means. It's showed me what being a real friend is all about. It's taught me that there is no one person who can support a whole group, but when everyone supports, the whole group can get through this.

The End of Trouble

2010-02-22T14:16:00.000-08:00

Fourteen months ago, I lost my Grandpa Charlie. I didn't know that I'd be losing my Grandma - on the other side of the family - almost exactly three months after that. This past week, I lost my other Grandfather...

Alexis & Grandpa CGHS Graduation 1991

Somewhere in my mind is that annoying voice that announces loudly, "Three down, one to go". Um - NO... I'm so not ready for that. But let me tell ya, I'm not the one in charge. Never have been, never will be.

It feels as though I've been sitting on the edge of my seat ever since those back to back funerals last year, dreading to see what would happen next. Somewhere in a recent post, I mentioned something about losing a dear cousin, as well as an Aunt this past year, and for a fleeting moment, I was hoping that would be the end of sad things, and missing people for a good long while.

At times, I want so desperately to see an end in sight, not necessarily for myself, but for what this must be putting my parents through. I am smart enough to know that the only end to troubles in life IS death. I also know that if you have the Lord as the head of your life, then death is not something to be mourned, but celebrated. It makes grief easier to bear when those you love are with the Lord, but it also makes grief more difficult to cope with when you know they didn't have that focus on Christ.

My last remaining Grandparent, Grandma Alice, is still hanging in there. Her mind doesn't know us anymore, and her body spends most all of its time resting between visits from the attendants at her care facility and my Mom. Right now she's sick with a virus that someone unknowingly shared with her and it has caused Pneumonia. We don't even know if she'll make it through this coming weekend, but I'm sure that when she goes on to meet our Savior, which I have no doubts about, that we will be all rejoice that she is finally HOME and in a place that she can be free from the confinements of a human body.

On the topic of grief, a wonderful woman I know, a friend from my High School days, lost her younger sister in December. I had considered this friend and her two sisters to all be friends of mine at one time in my past, and when I heard of this death, it shook me up quite a bit. But to watch this woman go through her grief process, to see her reach out to others in her time of need has really amazed me. She never once lost faith.

Just yesterday, this friend from my past shared the shocking news that her older sister had just passed away as well. Completely unbelievable - that this precious woman of God would be dealt another astounding blow in such a short time. Yet again, within hours she was showing her faith. She was sharing the unwavering belief that God is holding her, and the family, through these dark hours. I'm not sure where she got it from, but here's what she posted this just this morning:

Faith is exactly what it takes to get through uncertainty. Faith is not necessary when you know how things are going to work out, - that's knowledge. It's in the time of unknowing that having faith is what sees you through to the other side. Faith is what gives you strength. Faith is that light in your heart that keeps on shining even when it's all darkness outside. Now is the time to keep that faith alive!

I do declare that I'm going to adopt this attitude, and start remembering just what it is that gets each and every one of us from one side of our day to the other. Thank you Lord, for using one person's grief to reach out and help heal mine. Amen.

Now it's time to get my rear in gear for our little road trip to California. Services are on Thursday.

Learning as I Go

2010-02-10T16:55:00.000-08:00

This past October, I got to meet Lisa Whelchel. Remember her? From the Facts of Life? She was that obnoxious blonde character who was always better than everyone else at everything. Ok, I should probably come out and tell you the truth. I didn't actually "meet" her, but I got to hear her speak.

Lisa talked in such a way that I felt as if I'd actually had a conversation with her, and so today when I got an email from her, I was pretty quick to read it. Alright, so it wasn't just to me from her, but it was from the mailing list I get as a past attender of Women of Faith Conferences, which is ~~where I met her~~ where I listened to her speak.

She talked about focusing on discovering each others strengths and then and ministering to each other with those strengths. What a novel idea! I'd like to share a link with you that she included to help give you a rough idea of what your strengths may be. It's through Marcus Buckingham's website where you can also pick up his book: Find Your Strongest Life What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently

Want to know another cool thing? I get to meet him this coming October. *grin*

Go take the short test here: Stronglifetest.com
(And if you're an iPhone user - there's an app for that!) I'd love to hear what you learned about yourself!

My results are as follows... a little surprising to me, though I'm not sure why because I can really relate.

Your
Lead Role
Motivator

You begin by asking:
'How can I raise the energy?'

You are acutely aware of the energy in the room, and you feel compelled to do what you can to elevate it. You do this with your outlook—you are an instinctively optimistic person.

Your best quality:
Your infectious energy

You Always:
Step in and take responsibility for the group

Be careful you:
Don’t get sucked dry by emotional vampires

Your smartest career move:
Any job where you’re paid to keep a group of people excited.

Your
Supporting Role
Weaver

You begin by asking:
'Who can I connect?'

You see the world as a web of relationships, and you are always excited by the prospect of connecting two new people within your web.

Your best quality:
Your genuine curiosity

You Always:
Trust in your web of relationships

Be careful you:
Don’t push people together who shouldn’t be

Your smartest career move:
Any job where you’re paid to speed up the connection between people.

A Year in Review 2009

2010-01-13T11:16:00.001-08:00

It's about time for the annual Year in Review! We had quite an eventful 2009, filled with much happiness and grief, joy and sadness. It was like a little bundle of "Oh, I don't know what's coming next, but I sure hope it's good news" all rolled into one.

JANUARY
The first week of our new year, was a week that will be hard to push from my memory. I had the worst case of bronchitis ever, I was diagnosed with GERD, I resigned from the worship team that I so deeply loved, I spent four hours in a storm preparing for a flood that never happened, and reality hit that my Grandpa Charlie was dying. On January 10th, he went home to be with the Lord, and I learned what it meant to truly grieve and yet be overwhelmingly full of joy at the same time. The rest of the month was a blur to me, but I do recall Brenden started basketball about the same time Alyssa's season ended. I put in a weekend helping at High School Winter camp, and Bryan and I took the last weekend off to retreat to the coast with our friends for some much needed rest. Also, my baby boy turned six.

FEBRUARY
We returned from our restful weekend at the coast on the first of February, and had to fetch our children who had been very sick in our absence, and had managed to get their grandparents too sick to drive. Of course a sickness of that magnitude was sure to get Mr. Nice Guy and I sick as well, and it did just that. By mid-month, we were more than ready to send my firstborn to Middle School Winter Camp, and ourselves away to Brenden's Fantastic Birthday Weekend at Seaside. We had an absolute blast and he turned 9 amidst many smiles. During this month, we had to put down our dog, but we also managed to get another one. He's our family's best friend, our protector, and rarely has gas. This is why we love him.

MARCH
My firstborn is now a teenager! (God help us all) Alyssa turned 13 and got her very own, most-expenses paid trip to Newport for the weekend with her friend and of course me! We ate, we swam, we shopped, we ate some more. It was fun. But I won't be repeating it. There's just some things you have to try once to see if you'd like to repeat it. This was one of those times. Mr Nice Guy went to his first Men's Retreat, and Delayna endured her 8th surgery to her ears. We had a stay-cation during Spring Break for the first time in the history of our family and during this month, my chickens began laying eggs like crazy. I began to see how having a farm could really tie you up with obligations, and I was sick again.

APRIL
We began the month with a weekend at Grove Camp helping with clean up and getting things ready for another camping season. On the morning of the 9th, we got news that my Grandma Madeline was airlifted to Eugene, where we rushed to be by her side. I was happy to know that she appeared to know I was there. She died soon after. On Easter Sunday, we joined our church family for some emotional support, and gathered ourselves for the trip to Bandon for my Grandmother's service the next day, even while Delayna had Pneumonia. It was good to see all my family, but sad at the same time. Again, the rest of the month was a blur, but my husband had a birthday and I did get to attend the Women's Retreat at Camp, where I participated on the worship team. My passion for helping with worship was renewed, and I realized I couldn't give it up forever. But, I was sick again before I even got home.

MAY
I scored my award for Worst Mother of the Year when Delayna broke her foot and I passed it off as nothing but a bruise. She ended up missing a much anticipated four day field trip across Oregon and had to stay home and be miserable with me. We both lived through it and I even managed to reach my 36th birthday. We started harvesting our first homegrown strawberries and enjoyed an unseasonable warm spell that kept the kids outside more than usual. Between numerous trips to the orthopedist, the orthodontist and band performances, I learned that my Aunt Mary passed away. This was shaping up to be a miserable year - or a year where I'd strengthen my resolve and press on. I opted for the latter. We spent Memorial Day weekend at Grove Camp surrounded by friends and fun. Meanwhile our anniversary came and went, and we planted some of our garden before the month was over.

JUNE
I was crowned queen! Ok, I I mean I received my first crown. Signs of middle age are peeking in, and a fractured tooth is just one of them. My step-daughter graduated, Alyssa had two teeth extracted (misery!) and school ended with much excitement. We had a few days' break before camp season began, and then Brenden got a week away, and then the girls got to go together. More planting, more sunshine, and I realized I hadn't been sick in a month!

JULY
Delayna spent her 11th birthday at camp, and since her sister was with her, we made plans to let the boys spend time with their Grandparents at the coast. This gave us a couple days to get some things done ready for the next week when Mr Nice Guy and I would be at High School camp leading worship.We followed up the most uplifting week at camp with a weekend home with the kids, and then Mr Nice Guy and I were off on our first flight together ever... to Chicago. He spent several days in a training course in Wisconsin and then we drove across Illinois, up through Iowa and spent a couple nights in Galena, Illinois. I saw my first lightning bugs, my first groundhog and simply loved my first meal (or three) at the Cracker Barrel. We got home in time for my husbaned's 20th High School Class Reunion, and then he got to spend a couple extra weeks at work while I entertained the kids at home. I realized that 10 years ago this month - is when we first met.

AUGUST
Started off the month with some visiting time with the kids' Great Aunt & Uncle from California. Got in some more visiting with relatives at a family reunion and anniversary celebration with my own Great Aunt & Uncle. Took lots of pictures of the family farm, reminisced and enjoyed letting the kids run around just like I used to do as a girl. We took a road trip to Idaho with all five kids (also known as the "Les Schwab Road tour", because of all the tires we went through on our travel trailer) but we got there safely and spent a wonderful 12 days together. We enjoyed being with my brother and his family, my brother-in-law and his family, and life-long friends and their families as well. We got home and our garden was pretty much a complete loss from the heat, but we had so much fun we didn't really care to weed anymore anyway. The kids went back to school, and we looked forward to September.

SEPTEMBER
One of my favorite and least favorite months is September. I love love LOVE family camp during Labor Day weekend, and I love knowing my kids are going back to school and I get to spend some time with just my hubby until his classes start back up again. BUT, I hate it too, because all of the sudden I find myself all alone again! Family Camp was wonderful as usual, great friends, food and fellowship. This was followed immediately by volleyball tryouts and placements for both of my girls. I jumped in and helped with the 5/6th grade team as much as I could, as well as starting my first year as a Middle School "band Mom". Alyssa had two more teeth extracted by an oral surgeon in preparation for braces. September also included lots of prayer for our Cousin Alice. She was gravely ill. We spent another weekend back at camp for a Marriage Retreat that was simply amazing, but came home to the news that our cousin Alice had passed away. Her service was beautiful, and such a reminder that living a Godly life doesn't affect just you - it affects everyone around you. We attended a new church this month, and started getting good feelings about adopting a new church family.

OCTOBER
Eva Marie turned 19! A month FULL of volleyball practices, line-judging at games both home and away, and 2-3 days a week working with the band at the Middle School, helping with Book Fairs, assistant to the Artist in Residence at the Elementary School, Parent Club meetings, planning and fundraisers and Alyssa's first 4-H club meetings began. If you think that sounds like a lot to do - it was! But it kept me busy, and I got to meet lots of people and build on relationships in my community that I'd been putting off for four years or so. October also gave me a weekend away with the girls from the church we had been attending previously, to attend Women of Faith in Portland. A great experience yet again, even including the bomb scare. Our family attended church a few more times, and I started allowing myself to really begin to heal from the past hurts and see that good things were to come - we even started attending a small group. We finished off the month with volleyball playoffs. Both my girls' volleyball teams won their league championships and much rejoicing was heard throughout the land.

NOVEMBER
The kids took turns being sick this month, and then we whisked them all away to Depoe Bay for a weekend of Family R&R. We did nothing but do as little as possible, and loved every minute of it. The kids were all involved in Veteran's Day band performances or assemblies and each one was beautiful and touching. Our small group ended it's 6 week series during this month, and Alyssa started a new season of basketball. Her head coach is our senior pastor - gotta love that! Delayna made the honor roll at school and then Thanksgiving Break was in full swing. We did our own dinner at home this year, and my parents were our guests for the weekend. We also made a trek to the top of Mary's Peak during that time, leaving us with some really vivid memories!

DECEMBER
The month of busy busy! Basketball games, Christmas music Concerts and play tryouts came and went. Alyssa stretched her wings by scoring a couple parts in the upcoming play "Beauty and the Beast" and Brenden performed in "A Christmas Carol Musical" with the entire 5th Grade Class. We participated in the 10th Anniversary Celebration for our new church, and our entire family played a part in a Living Nativity on the main street through town. During Christmas Break, I got to meet, in real life, a new friend that I'd made on Facebook and was absolutely delighted to find out she was even better in person! Then, we got to spend a couple days of our Christmas with my parents and my brother's family. After coming home from Cottage Grove, we brought Eva Marie down on a bus to spend some time with while we were all at home. New Years Eve was spent home with the kids for the first time in many years. We tried to have our own little party, but my seasonal depression hit me prematurely early and I believed I had quite possibly ruined the whole night for my family and especially my husband. Thankfully I am married to a man of great hope and deep love, and he held on to me tighter than ever and we were able to begin a new year with an understanding that even though we had gone through more pains and trials than any family should have to endure in 2009, it didn't change the fact that we were, and will always be, family.

She Lives!

2010-01-13T10:22:00.000-08:00

Hello 2010, Goodbye 2009.

I have not been too busy to write, or think about writing, or contemplate thoughts. I've just not had the WANT TO. And so now here I am. Wondering which things to write about in case I don't want to write tomorrow, or the day after... or the next 2 months. I hope it doesn't happen like that, and quite frankly, I know it won't! I know it won't because I say it won't and everything I say happens.

Bahahahaha! You found that funny too, didn't ya?

Things certainly aren't going as I would like them to be, but I do feel incredibly blessed nonetheless. I have spent the last few months worrying about a female-type problem. I guess it's easier to not blog than to put my worries down and feel vulnerable and exposed. And helpless.

I have enough problems, that one more problem sometimes feels like it's going to make my brains explode. But then when my attitude adjusts, I realize that the reason I have so many problems is to prep me for the ones to come! Oh boy, I'm not sure I want to even go there.

Anyway, I went ahead with my resolution to have my annual visit to the doctor. The one I haven't seen since my son was born almost seven years ago (go ahead, flog me now). She said something about nagging me, but she realized quickly that I was repentant enough, so she saved the comments for someone else. When I wrote down my goal list of 101 in 1001 a few months back, I listed "Annual Exam" on there. I was pretty sure I'd have it done right off the bat, but I looked back and it's been a year since I wrote that list. Ugh! I do feel pretty good that I didn't wait the entire 1001 days to cross it off though, so cut me some slack.

I'm not going to sit here and write all about my exam, because quite frankly nobody wants to hear about that, and those who do are probably sick. But I left with a list of new vitamins to take, and another longer list of things to avoid. What sucks is the "avoid" list is quite simply a list of all the things that truly bring me joy in life. I'm really not sure what to do with no chocolate, no sugar, no caffeine, no salt and no breathing. Oh wait, breathing isn't on there, but it might as well be. Gosh... Oh right, it just says "decrease", not cut out entirely. I may live.

I have been experiencing lots of pain. Not back pain, that's normal for me. After all I don't live on the "Back Acher" Farm for nothing. This is girl type pain. So hopefully, my doctor's recommendations will help ease my pain, discomfort, fatigue and... any chances of a good mood too. I'm also on the schedule for a sonogram, because apparently all the probing and prodding didn't show clearly the things the doctor needs to see to help with my issues or to make a proper diagnosis. Oh the joy! The excitement. I can't wait. (I'm taking chocolate with me.)

Now I'm making this short, because I've run out of words and I want to get my Year in Review done sometime this month. Well that, and it's just not fun writing about my problems. Unless you think it's fun how I tried to take my little toe off yesterday while getting in the shower and now I'm limping around again. Now that IS funny. Enjoy a free giggle on the house. The next one will cost ya.

Happy and Healthy New Year to you all!

180 Degree Attitude Adjustment

2009-11-05T08:40:00.000-08:00

Today is not starting out so well. I'm searching high and low for motivation, patience and some joy in the situation I find myself in.

I have four children at home. I have five if you count the man-sized one. I woke up today feeling utterly miserable. The reason for the miserable feeling was brought about by my fitful night of sleep. Somewhere in my dreams, that man-sized child had a big tantrum, in front of many, many people - most who I knew and were very near and dear to me. The fit that this man-sized child had in my dream was a terrible, awful fit. He ranted on and on about how he was going to quit some job he had because he didn't want to support me anymore. He complained loudly about how he was done being married because it was so not worth it, and he even said I expected too much because I needed help keeping up with the household chores and the homework of four children. Clearly, that was a job only for women, and not for a man who works outside the home, so he was done. He was finished. He was leaving. Or was he shoving me out? I don't quite remember that part because it didn't really matter. What mattered was that feeling of utter shock and humiliation. What also mattered was the fact that I woke up sad, angry and upset, and my poor husband had done none of those things, but I was still upset with him. Well, he hasn't done ALL of those things, but the part about the chores and the homework was pretty realistic. haha!

Wow. It's hard to wake up from a "for real" feeling dream like that and jump to my feet with the excitement of a new day. Especially when I walk out my bedroom door and come face to face with no less than six loads of laundry that I spent all day yesterday sorting, washing and drying so my family would have clean clothes for the next week. I was happy that I'd thought ahead this time, and spent the two days BEFORE a much anticipated trip to the coast doing the laundry instead of the day OF the trip. That's more my style - wait till the last second and then get those last items that we need washed, packed and then we run out the door.

This time, I decided to be ahead of the game and I was oh so proud of my achievements. I even cleaned up each room and cooked dinner early. I might have done more the last few days except I had a kid home sick each day and that was a tiny bit distracting. The problem with doing things ahead of time, and being proud of yourself is that nobody else notices. Instead of folding and putting away all that laundry yesterday, I spent the time between loads making quick bread, rice krispie treats, make-ahead casseroles and such to take on our trip. I don't think I mentioned it yet, but we are dirt, stinkin broke right now and this trip is in no way anything extravagant. We have no plans to dine out, or to take any side trips or do anything special. When I reserved this time about a year ago, I knew that sometime during the bleak months of Fall (bleak to me, not to everyone!) that I'd need a means of escape, and so thinking only of that, I booked this time away. All it takes is a tank of gas - and so far that's all we're planning on spending. The food is coming with us from our own kitchen - food that we'd normally eat, plus whatever goodies I could whip up beforehand. The library has loaned us a half ton of exciting books, and even a few movies the kids haven't seen in ages. Our plan is to do as little as humanly possible, and to just enjoy being together and relaxing, maybe a dip in the pool or a soak in the hot tub, but mostly NO STRESS.

Being ahead of the game this time was a big deal for me! I think there's something about Mother's needing their family to be happy when we plan a family event. Clearly, there is nothing in the rulebooks that says a Father or the kids need for the Mother to be happy though, and it's got me pretty bummed. This morning, I briefly mulled over the idea of just taking this trip by myself - since apparently I'm the only one that is looking forward to it enough to do anything about it. But then God swatted me and encouraged me to stop my stinkin' thinkin'.

Some days - I wish God could just come over and fold laundry. I am looking at my house, and realizing that all those clothes just might have to sit where they are, because all of the sudden each room is messy again, the dinner dishes are still there, and the kitchen needs cleaned up again. Didn't I just do all of that yesterday? It's really no wonder that stay at home Mom's fall into depression more often. It's a pretty thankless job.

Earlier when I thought about how nice it would be to have God come over and fold laundry, you know, something practical and "useful" for me, I got to thinking about how an ungrateful attitude really does tend to make things look worse than they are. Since when does God need to fold my laundry, when he lovingly blessed me with my own two arms to do it myself? And since when does God have to help take care of someone's house, that is lucky enough to have a house at all? My children are abundantly blessed with clothes to wear, and who has the nerve to complain about having to wash it all? Why me, of course.

My purpose of this post was to talk myself out of my grumpiness since I don't have a physical person to talk to (and if you're still reading, well God bless you for being patient with my blatherings!). I know that Satan is sitting at my door, waiting to pounce on me and he encourages me to get mad at my entire family. What is the point of that? Where's the honor, the joy, or the fun?

Today I'm going to give God a break. Instead of wishing he'd come fold my laundry, I'm going to force myself to take this day by the horns. One step at a time. Eat something. Drink something (maybe it's a good day for coffee?). Fold a load. Do the dishes. Fold a load. Sweep the floors (again. haha!). Fold a load. And somewhere in there maybe I can put those clothes away - and then pack and have things somewhat ready to go by the time my family comes home today.

This will give God the time to spend with that mother who is burying her child today, or the father who just lost his job and needs extra attention - not that God isn't everywhere, but it's really not his job to take care of the physical things in my life that I'm able to do - if I just dump the nasty mood. You can bet that I'll still need God to walk me through my day, and I guarantee I'll be asking him to help me push through (because YES, the body is in some major pain after my fall the other day!) but I'll also feel more inclined to allow him to work through me, instead of FOR me.

This thought came to me earlier, and I'm pretty sure I will print it out where I can see it all day!
"A bad attitude always wishes someone else would do the work, but a joyful heart sees blessings in helping others."

I'm off to take a vacation now... and to bless my family.

The post where I try to be like Heather

2009-11-03T10:23:00.000-08:00

Promises are cheap. A dime a dozen around here.

A few days ago, after posting about the unfortunate events of all sorts of things including my eyelashes (which are fine, by the way, as apparently the thick mascara "splints" kept them from completely falling out altogether after they were heat blasted by my dadgum stove) I vowed, no, I promised, that I would not write another post about misfortunes, but instead, I'd post about something FORTUNATE!

Well, it's not a complete lie. But just for the record (and to TRY not to share only the bad things) I'll tell you all about how both my daughters' volleyball teams kicked some major hiney this season. My 13 yr old now has bragging rights - she is on a championship team! Undefeated for the whole season. Princess D, who is now 11, made it through her first season of volleyball on a different, yet still exceptional, team - only losing 2 games the whole season. Not too shabby I say! I'm proud of those girls.

But back to the unfortunate events. As we all know, I can't go more than a day without something unusual or blogworthy happening in my life. I just tend to keep most of it to myself for fear of making others continually worry about my safety. You see, I worry about you worrying. Does that make sense?

In my dream house, I will have rubber bumpers on each corner. Doors will not stop at half of an inch above floor level (which is precisely the height it takes to completely scrape the top of your toes off). Wood stove handles and all things that contain any source of heat will be wrapped in silicone - seven layers of it, to keep the user from burning themselves. Safety goggles will be required while cooking, as well as a silicone full-length apron to protect oneself from scorching or splashing any body parts with hot water or grease that is on fire.

Within this last year, I made a new friend. Her name is Heather. (It may or may not be a false name to protect the innocent. Let's just say her name is Heather.) So this friend Heather is a wonderful human being. She is sassy, she is strong and she is determined. She's a little bit older than me, but we're the same age in the attitude department. What I mean by that is about the time I was being conceived, she was graduating from High School, but we don't notice that part.

Heather is someone I look up to. There are many reasons to look up to her, but one of them is because she is a triathlete. Now I don't know how long that crazy idea has been in her head, the idea to do the triathlon thingamajig, but she's trained, she's worked hard, and by golly she is making other women look really bad. What I mean by that, is all those ladies that let themselves go just because they see their first gray hair are being put to shame by someone who is just starting new, exciting adventures. Heather has been busy doing a lot of training (for how to get in and out of a wetsuit, which I hear can be the most challenging part of a triathlon thingamajig for anyone over the age of 50) and she's got my vote for Most Confident and Daring Woman of the Year. But just a couple weeks ago, my favorite contender for Woman of the Year fell on a hard stone floor and injured herself.

Yes, it appears that Heather and I have more in common than our attitudes. Apparently we also like to make scenes and draw lots of unwanted attention our way. I'm many miles away from Heather, so providing emotional support and prayers is what I've been able to do. I am also able to sympathize with her, because I feel that we often live parallel lives. So parallel, in fact, that I decided to do exactly the same thing as she did. With that said, here's my letter to Heather.

Dear Heather,
I admire you, I want to have that same drive and determination when I'm well past forty to do something new, exciting and different. I want to run in a triathlon. Well, maybe not so much a triathlon, as I want to still be able to be walking upright by then. I want to be like you SO much that I am trying to mimic everything you do so that I can say I lived a life that was adventurous. Just last night, I saw that "wet floor" sign outside the bathroom at one of our favorite neighborhood eating joints. I saw the sign, I stepped around the sign, and through the doorway.

"Splat" was the only thing I heard as I went down faster than Bambi learning to ice skate. Maybe it was slower than that, because I had time to wonder if the door closed all the way before people out in the restaurant could see me flailing in mid-air, grasping for air handles. (You know what I mean, those things people grasp for when falling, but there's nothing there?) Go ahead and laugh at my expense, I'll wait.

So anyway Heather, I look up to you so much. And in that moment, when I was laying sprawled out on the hard, stone bathroom floor I looked up and I swear I saw you - giving me your hand. Not the one with the pretty blue cast on it from your recent fall, but the other one. You helped me up, while bracing your injured knee (the one that still needs the MRI - yes, that one) and you helped me to my shaking feet. You brushed me off, and gave me a little pep talk. It went something like this:

My Dear Friend,
Words just can't express how I feel (as much as my hysterical laughter can). You know you can't be just like me, so quit trying so hard. You need to learn to be your own individual self, with your own stories of misfortune. Now get into that bathroom stall before you start to cry, or notice that your kneecap is misaligned. Don't pay attention to the location of the pain. You need to go to the bathroom - that's why you're here. Go get the job done. THEN you can figure out what needs to be attended to! You could end up getting stuck in urgent care or something, and then what would you do with that full bladder. Get busy girlfriend!

So... with that wonderful advice, I drug myself into the furthest stall from the door (the one labeled "Handicapped" because quite clearly at that point I WAS) and I did what I needed to do. Then, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, and called for my husband. I heard muffled laughter on his end, and then a bit of actual concern, and then I hung up.

One thing I can always count on, is that he will take me seriously when I call for help. Nine times out of ten I don't call for his help, and so when I do, he knows I'm not joking. I sort of felt silly calling him, because after all I was able to be on my feet, although my right knee was starting to throb like the dickens and my hand felt all weird. However, I didn't want to flop down in the middle of the restaurant on the way out, so I figured I'd shove my pride into my other pocket and let him help me out.

I gingerly stepped across the remaining stone tiles, which were as slick as algae on a river rock, no exaggerations there whatsoever, and met my husband at the door. He, too, agreed with my assessment about the stone floor, and I felt justified that my injury wasn't entirely the result of my being a total nincompoop. (It may have been somewhat the fault of the Tylenol PM I took an hour earlier, but we'll pretend I didn't actually do that).

Heather, thanks for helping me up to my feet last night. If I'd really paused to think about it, I might have just cried like a baby, but instead you helped me laugh at myself, and realize that things like this happen - and we just have to take it all in stride, we have to let it make us stronger (more humorous) individuals, and help us to appreciate those days when we CAN do the extra things like run, swim or ride a bike. I'm still working on just walking a straight mile, but with your delightful example, I'm pretty sure I can get there.

P.S. I didn't end up in an E.R. or an urgent care, I was too sleepy to care much so I went straight home, couldn't find the ice pack and I went to sleep. I woke up this morning with very little pain, unless I'm putting firewood in the stove and have to bend my knee that certain way *ouch!* Hopefully this is the worst of it... although I'm keeping a close eye on what hurts. I learned a good lesson: Stick to taking sleepytime drugs at sleepy time and stay off wet floors lest ye MAKE a wet floor.

And then the eyelashes melted

2009-10-27T11:54:00.001-07:00

A few days ago, we spent some hours cleaning out our little corner of the shop. Not little shop, just my little corner. It's the corner that my in-laws nag me about because it's loaded with our stuff. I'm not going to say anything snippy about it being OUR shop (since we bought the farm and all and nobody else makes any payments) it's just that the one corner is something I'm always getting picked on about because I have stuff there. Stuff. Just things that have traveled along on my life journey with me. Mine.

Long story short - when our shop floods in the winter (doesn't happen too often) but when it did last time, it was never completely cleaned out. We're always too busy after a flood to sweep the shop - it goes at the bottom of the list, know what I mean? Somewhere below wringing out goats, fluffing up chickens and mopping seventy times a day. So, the floors were left to dry naturally and whatever silt seeped under the doors made a nice dust covered floor that could possibly keep a sparse lawn in place. Some of the shop floor is raised and doesn't get wet - that's where my stuff was. So naturally, after I had about an 8 foot by 4 foot section all nice and decluttered, I wanted to make the floor clean too. So, I swept it. It was after dark, and I had only a little bit of light in there, but I could see dust - and when I swept there was no more dust. I felt so good to make a clean spot! Yay me!!

It felt good until the next morning anyway, when I realized all that dust went into my lungs and was sitting there like a gooey lump of mud. It's been three days now, and everytime I cough, only the equivalent to one dust particle comes up at a time. Steam helps - so I've been on a hot tea diet.

Yesterday was a little bit better, so I decided to keep up the hot tea diet and I went to put the pot on to boil. Now this newfangled, completely digital, touch pad display on my stove is great, if you like runway lights in your kitchen. I don't complain though because I picked it out. So I shoved the leftover pan from the night before aside, grumbling at one daughter or another who neglected to clean it up, and I started the burner for the water. I then went about composing a rather lengthy letter to a family member, knowing that my teapot would alert me when it was ready. All during the letter writing, I thought I heard strange noises. My dog alerts me to strange noises that I need to pay attention to, and since he kept sleeping, I just kept writing. Then I realized that the noise continued, and it sounded as if it were inside the house. We've had just enough critters running loose, that I figured it was worth checking out.

I would describe the noise as a popping and squeaking sound. For your reference, it's exactly the kind of noise you would hear if you were to put a partial pan of refried beans on the stove, use the turbo-boil setting, and just let it go. The popping noise was those little beans exploding and when their skins were torn off, the squeaking was their screams of horror. The pasty bean substance on the sides of the pan (because it wasn't a FULL pan of beans of course!) was burning, then crackling off of the stainless steel, and making a very potent billow of smoke at the same time. Too bad it wasn't Halloween... I had my own (do NOT try this at home) smoke machine! Wait till I tell the kids!

Covering my mouth and nose with my shirt (just like they taught us in elementary school) and waving my arms to clear the air so I could see, I made my way into the kitchen to grope for the handle of the pan. I forgot to think that maybe I should have grabbed a different piece of clothing than the one I was actually wearing to put on my face, because when I ran back and forth with that pan, trying to figure out how to get the door open without removing my shirt from my face, I'm pretty sure I flashed our neighbors. (Betcha I looked smokin'!) I finally put the pan back down on the stove, opened the door, and then went to relocate the pan outside onto the deck. On a hot pad, of course, because I didn't want to mar the surface of our deck. *sigh*

Windows flung open, fans going, air conditioner on high and doors wide open all day still did not remove the nasty stench of a near kitchen fire. I soon realized that smoke inhalation coupled with the gummy dust layer in my lungs was causing me quite a bit of grief. All self-inflicted grief, of course. Not to give in to defeat, I decided to help eliminate the smell on this fine rainy afternoon. I had the perfect solution. I'd make cupcakes! Dark chocolate cupcakes would counteract the burned bean smell and my family would be coming home happier today (instead of their usual gagging behavior). I was sure of it.

The meticulously prepared cupcakes were placed, ever so carefully, into the lower oven on my new range and I proceeded to wait the appropriate nineteen minutes. The instant that timer went off, I lept to my feet and (without spraining anything) hurried to the kitchen to see what glorious delights awaited my eyes. I bent down and quickly pulled the oven door open. Instead of seeing delicious little cupcakes, I was met with a face full of heat and steam that instantly loosened seven layers of the dust and smoke in my lungs while simultaneously clamping my eyes shut and melting my eyelashes together.

My top lip now feels like I've just got a fresh wax, my forehead is really shiny and my nose feels like I just got back from a day at the lake without sunscreen. I'm not really sure if there's more damage, as I still can't focus through my steam-cleaned contact lenses, but I'm pretty sure my eyelashes would have just dropped off my face entirely if it wasn't for the mascara holding them firmly in place. The bad news is that neither of our smoke alarms went off. That is alarming. The good news is that the cupcakes turned out just fine. From what I can see anyway.
Yay me.

Last Will & Testament

2009-10-19T11:20:00.001-07:00

To whom it may concern,

I am a few days short of dying. It's all because of my treadmill. The last time I got on it, I felt every extra part of my body scream like never before. My hips are arguing with my every step, and now my upper back hurts as much as my lower back. Since we are all aware that my death is quickly approaching (it's a shock, I know), I would like to bequeath some of my most special belongings to those ~~who have tortured me the most~~ that I love and cherish. Please follow the directions or you will receive seven lashings with a wet towel.

Considering that my impending death is due only to my numerous attempts to use our stupid treadmill, I would like to make it very clear that my treadmill is to go to my husband, and only my husband. It was his stupid idea to buy the thing in the first place. I know that in all of his grief over my death, he will feel inclined to get on the treadmill to sweat away his sorrows. He might even feel inclined to use the incline feature. I don't know if the incline feature actually works, because I've never quite got the idea of attempting suicide on a treadmill, but I know that once he starts using it, he'll keel over (incline or no incline) and die too - that will be my way of getting back at him from beyond the grave.

Once he arrives in heaven with me, with our new and wonderful bodies, we will no longer need the recumbent bike that sits, in all hostility, next to the treadmill. I would like the recumbent bike to go to my children. They can fight over it, and may the biggest whiner win. All of the "it's MY turn" will not be heard by me any longer, so I really don't give a care. Hopefully when someone cleans out my exercise room/laundry room/library/storage room they will come across the dag-blasted power cord for the recumbent bike so that anyone who peddles more than a quarter of a mile won't blow out their knees like I have.

Among my other prized possessions is my exercise ball. The big, giant formerly-inflated piece of junk goes to my youngest child. Since he's the one that insisted on bouncing around on it immediately after he broke a jar in my living room, he can have the shredded pieces of rubber as a long-term remembrance of how much his Mother's patience was stretched thin.

My daughters will receive my sweaty workout clothes. This is a special payback for all the damp, stinky, sweaty gym shorts and volleyball uniforms they have left for me to take care of every day of their middle school lives. I would also throw in all of my bath towels, except they probably already have 27 of them in their room, in a wet heap on the floor.

My elder son will be the recipient of my walking shoes. He can't ever seem to find more than one shoe at a time, so I'm hoping that by giving him a pair of shoes that have always sat side by side, he might feel inclined to follow suit and give his next set of parents a more harmonious home.

Sincerely,
(and while gasping-for-my-last-breath)
~The girl who's dying from treadmill abuse

I am smarter than an 8th grader

2009-10-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

Just so ya'll know, I have never been one of those people who just wanders around outside the house in my pajamas. I've never quite gotten the reason why people can't just slip on some clothes and go about their lives and leave the pj's at home - where they belong. Now on the nights I wear pajamas (shush, I know what you're thinking) I prefer to have very comfortable pajamas. Just this past year, I actually bought some pretty AND comfortable pajamas. I love them. I love them so much I could get rid of all the others and be happy with this one set. Unfortunately this kind of thinking tends to make people want to wear their pajamas outside of the home. This case is no exception.

In the mornings at our house, it is always a lazy wake up time, followed by a rushed feeling to eat breakfast and get the teeth clean, followed by a complete panic and frenzy to catch the bus. The bus stop takes forever to travel to, but only if you're late. It's at the end of our driveway. If one kid doesn't catch the bus in time (missing shoe, misplaced homework, etc...) that kid gets a free ride to school courtesy of Mom. I don't mind doing it, the school isn't that far away (and truthfully it gives me a few extra minutes to apologize and get forgiveness for yelling at whoever is in the car for not hurrying up earlier) but it does mean that I have to change out of my favorite pajamas lots sooner than I had planned (which is sometimes a really good thing, if you know what I'm saying).

A few days ago, my firstborn asked the question. You know, the one question you've been asking yourself inside your own brain for weeks, that when someone else finally verbalizes the question, it seems to makes things completely legitimate just because someone else spoke the words? "Mom, why don't you just wear your pajamas instead of getting dressed?"

The girl is a genius. Why I had never thought of that I'll never know! I gave her some lame reason like, "Well, you really just never know when you need to be dressed in clothes when you go outside." I then proceeded to explain how one of my favorite speakers at our recent Women of Faith conference talked about wearing "Flu" pants outside to take care of a dead goat. We've all got Flu pants, she stated. The kind you wear when you're sick, and you may or may not be wearing underwear under them? The kind that, in her story, tend to fall down when your hands are occupied and you can't pull them up - but only when you're in your own field in full view of a busy highway, and it's either drop the dead goat or drop your pants? Yeah - I gave my daughter that excuse, and she just rolled her eyes. "Like stuff like that actually ever happens! And who doesn't ever wear underwear??" Ahem... carrying on...

So yesterday, we had one of those days where the kids scurry around like just-discovered-barn-rats, and as luck would have it, one of them needed a ride. Either that or I forgot to wake them up in time, I just don't recall. (Hey, it's hard to make sure four kids are actually out of bed before I've even had coffee, ok?? I see kids moving about, I just assume there are four of them.) So I don't exactly recall which school I had to visit that morning (seeing as how if three of them miss the bus, I literally have to travel to three different schools) but it was one of them, and it was a short drive, and I was really, REALLY tired. I had all intentions of going straight back to bed as soon as I heard the bus drive away. But here I was thinking of how to expend the least amount of energy possible.

So - I put the good advice of my thirteen year old daughter to use. I put my coat on, shoved my feet into my Nike's and grabbed my car keys. I gingerly stepped out the door into the carport, noticed there were no other parents driving by and proceeded to thank the good Lord that I always park with my drivers side to the field and not the road. I made a mad dash for the car before anyone, including our early riser neighbors, could spot my really loud pajama pants. There was no mistaking they were pajamas. If you saw someone who normally only wears some shade of denim on her legs wearing a flashy white and black scroll motif instead, you'd know they were pajamas from three acres away - in the fog.

I was home free. I drove my kid to school (still don't recall which one) and I watched every stop sign, left turn signal and speed limit too, just to make sure I didn't have any reason to get pulled over by one of our town's finest. I just knew it would be my luck that if I got pulled over the apple juice sitting in the furthest seat back in our suburban would have become fermented, leading to a search of my vehicle, and an arrest for open container, all in my pajamas while all the other parents who always wear clothes and underwear drove by and laughed at me. I had to make myself scarce. Fear gripped my heart.

The drive home was pretty slow - because apparently on all other mornings I don't see speed limit signs? Either that or I was just paranoid. I was so relieved to pull back into our driveway and release all that pent up paranoia when what did I see? No less than 13 farm workers had descended on my field and were busily picking lettuce. Oh good gravy, who on earth scheduled that? So carefully, I pulled into the driveway, made a big display as if I had something that burndoned me to unload from the back of the Suburban, and I backed up as close to the carport as I could get. Nobody would see me now! Of course all of my maneuvering made every one of those 13 farmer guys watch to see what I was up to, when in all reality they might never have noticed me in the first place, seeing as how they were knee deep in lettuce, kale, chard and all sorts of other things green.

My plan appeared to be working though, because there was only about two feet of space that they might catch a glimpse of me zipping by in my brilliant black and white get-up. They'd probably think I was wearing a lovely flowing skirt - or perhaps dress pants - yes, they'd think that. What with my flurry of fuzzy hair sticking out all over the place and my raccoon eyes from the makeup I'd been too tired to wash off the night before. Yeah, they'd totally go for that.

So, blissfully unaware of my surroundings, I stepped out of the car. I proceeded to gather my purse and other things I evidently left in the vehicle overnight - all while gleefully smiling at the fact that none of the farmers could see me, and I was wearing my pajamas! Neener neener! I'd done it!

Boy had I done it all right. It suddenly occurred to me that the one child I had taken to school was the one who had to arrive EARLY and that the strange noise I was hearing behind me was the brakes of the school bus pulling up, and all the cars before and behind it coming to a stop. How, in the name of all things rational, could I have let THIS happen? My raccoon eyes were WIDE open and the grin still plastered on my face as the bus driver waved at me, and I frantically waved her on by. She probably thought I was sure a friendly sort, with all the smiling and waving and such. Little did she know that right there, in that very spot, I was making new committments. I was committing to never wearing my pajamas outside the house ever again, and I was committing to never doubt the fact that I AM smarter than an 8th grader.

Now where did I leave my wagon?

2009-10-16T12:01:00.000-07:00

Weight loss isn't easy. It sometimes gets in the way of other things, like dessert, and free time! Weight loss has to be something you really want, or you're going to get exactly what you put into it. Nothing, equals nothing. That's exactly what I've gotten these past few miserable weeks. Nothing!

I check my scale from time to time, just to see how bad things are, and thankfully it hasn't gotten much WORSE, but knowing that I won't ever move forward towards my goals unless I actually PARTICIPATE has gotten me to get back on the wagon again. I'm picking up where I left off. I'm doing it today.

Over the past few weeks we buried a family member, I suffered a really deep and sudden bout of depression, I had terrible back pain, we ran out of groceries and money at the same time, my marriage took a nosedive, and I lived to tell about it. I'm refocusing. I'm directing my gaze towards what I can accomplish instead of what I feel helpless about. (And I still haven't had hardly ANY soda since August 1st - a goal that has far exceeded my expectations and become a habit!) I'm grateful for every day that I get a chance to wake up and breathe clean air. I'm happy that my husband insists on sticking by my side no matter how obnoxious I can be, and I'm glad I am learning how to put up food for when the finances get lean. I know I can do this, it's just going to take more effort for me than most. But let me tell ya, I have a God on my side that is far bigger than any problem or pain I could ever have.

Time for breakfast... where's my wagon?

Can I get a side of Peaceful with that?

2009-10-05T08:10:00.000-07:00

I did it again.

With full intentions to sit down and blog more, I have realized that intentions only go so far. Not a day passes that I don't have thoughts that I'd like to put into words. Unfortunately my thoughts lately are not the type that I prefer to share with many people. Particularly the thoughts of pulling myself out of this funk that I've been lounging around in for a couple months or so. I've probably spent more time thinking about how to make myself comfortable while I'm IN the funk, than how to actually get out of it. I suffer annually from S.A.D. It feels like this problem has made a grand entrance months too early this year. When I really think about it, I have to realize that my series of life events is probably the only reason I feel blue, and it has not a thing to do with S.A.D. (until today, it's our first real fog of the year, while my brain, on the other hand, has been in a real fog for months.)

My day is pretty much the same every day. I get up, kiss my husband goodbye, I get my kids going, I fuss about the condition of the kitchen, I do errands and chores all day, I spend a few days a week at the middle school helping out, I taxi kids to practices, games and events all evening, I try to make dinner (haha!), I help with homework, I read bedtime stories, I fuss about the kitchen again, I go to bed. Somewhere in there, I make occasional retreats to my husband's computer to read a blog, or play a game or respond to a lengthy email or look at our budget with wondering eyes. (Wondering how on earth we're going to make it this month, that is.)

My days are full, but in my mind, not full enough. Nowhere in there do I have actual scheduled time to sit and read, or pray, or spend time with my husband, or just do something for myself anymore. I think that I'm afraid that if I do, the floodgates will open and all my feelings of grief and loss over the past few months will come pouring out.

In January, when I lost my Grandpa, I don't think I could have imagined anything more painful or heartbreaking. People say to be happy because he's in heaven - well I AM happy about that, but it doesn't lessen the pain of just plain MISSING him. The hurt of wishing I'd been able to spend more time with him doesn't go away very easily, and knowing my kids won't be growing up with him isn't ever going to feel good.

Then in March, I lost my Grandma and all those fresh, raw feelings from my Grandpa's death never really had time to be dealt with and sorted out in my mind. My Grandmother's death was different... different feelings, different emotions and different side of the family involved. Still - heartbreaking. I can't believe how much missing someone forever feels like. I hate it. I think that if my heart was broken in half with the first death, that it got quartered the next time around. I loved her phone calls and her cheery voice. Memories I will treasure forever.

In May, my Great Aunt Mary passed away. She didn't live near to us during my life, but whenever she entered our presence (from the far off land of Virginia), it was like a grand parade. She was lively, exciting and most of all, she loved us like we were all hers. My most vivid memory of Aunt Mary was when we all attended the funeral of my Great Grandfather Ash. Her own father had died, yet here she was, hugging my younger cousin and I as my cousin wailed and I cried because she was crying. I think we were about 7 and 8 years old at the time. I don't remember Aunt Mary's tears, I just remember her making ours all better. Her death left a hole in my heart, and although it felt like a small hole compared to the other two deaths, it still leaked the same brand of grief.

Throughout all these months, things had been changing a lot at our church. My husband had been asked to discontinue one area of our ministry, which he did with a heavy heart. And then the other area of our ministry, which he enjoyed the most came to an end for both of us as well. This opened up a whole new category of grief that neither of us had really ever had to experience before. Our hearts hurt from the abrupt, and business-like loss of our passions, and our spiritual health suffered from the loss of those people who used to mentor us and care about things like that. It's really sad to learn that people are really interested in your spiritual health and hold you accountable when you are on stage, but they could care less if you're sitting in the back row. Feeling unliked, unloved and unwanted, we trudged on, trying to heal things with only our heavily damaged hearts and just the spark of faith we still carried. Our marriage then began to take hits, which is common in the middle of spiritual war. Spending time together as a couple wasn't something to look forward to anymore, because each one of us had such a large quantity of emotions to work through that we frequently dumped those feelings out on each other. I am so grateful for that spark of faith that we hauled along with us, because without it, we'd be living in separate homes right now and that's a fact.

We worked through small things and big things or we ignored issues and then we yelled and then shared tears of misery and tears of forgiveness. Then we hugged. Then we did that all over again. For weeks. Months. I'm exhausted just writing this.

Somewhere in all of this, I lost a friend or two. Or three.
I gained a new one. A few are still hanging there on the fringes waiting for me to pull my head out and come back to the party. I am grateful for those friends. I am sorry for those friends too - because they have to put up with me. Those are the ones I know are genuine, because they are still there. Maybe not as much as before, but they are still there. My husband also forced a Couple's Retreat on me, and I actually liked it. I'm really glad he's hanging in there, because I'd be so completely lost otherwise.

A few weeks ago, my cousin Alice got really sick. She's actually my Mother's cousin, but we all call her "Cousin Alice" because my Grandma's name is Alice and that can get confusing real quick. Cousin Alice has an Aunt Alice and that's my Grandma. Get it? Good. So Cousin Alice got really sick. The doctors couldn't fix her. She died on September 20th. This past Friday we had her Memorial Service, and on Thursday night - the day before - I had finally allowed myself to process some of the grief. It was very difficult. Again - I know without a shadow of a doubt that she's in the arms of Jesus right now, but sorting all the feelings out has been really hard with all those OTHER feelings still real and raw and just hanging out in my little bitty brain. I think about something, and my brain flashes to something else, and then to something completely unrelated and then people wonder why I can't ever find my car keys.

This weekend, I absolutely refused to let anything land on our schedule. The kids slept in (or maybe it was just me) the sun shone, and peace threatened to begin to take over the land of the Back Acher. I told people at our church not to expect us there, and all was well. On Saturday, the love of my life installed the new stove and dishwasher that have been waiting patiently in our carport for a week. A new sense of excitement came in with them. Where else do you hear kids fighting over who GETS to do the dishes? My daughters have already tried out the new oven and so far the brownies and cookies brought more than a few smiles (hooray for a stove that doesn't take an hour to preheat!!). Three new baby chicks hatched (2 right in the kitchen while the appliances were being installed!) and a fourth was lost on his way out. I briefly played with the idea of feeling very sad, but I knew that if I really dwelled on my thoughts, that someone would find me slumped on the floor in the kitchen, appearing to cry hysterically over an egg with a little dead chick in it, and send me straight to the hospital with the tight white jackets. I buttoned up my emotions for another time. Again.

Sunday I awoke to a sick husband. His headache was so bad that even the kids running through the house made him grumble. I showered and headed the kids out the door while whispering to my baby chicks that we'd be right back and I told them not to make too much noise. We went to church here in town - about a one minute drive away. At this church we were free from the questions and the wondering and all the unspoken feelings that we can feel even when people don't say them. We were free to just relax and let the words and the songs speak.

Peaceful. That's the word I'm looking for, and that's what I need. My prayer is that I get a good dose of that this weekend at the Women of Faith Conference (thank you to my few remaining friends for dragging me there, and to the angel who made sure my room was paid for - thanks for making me cry AGAIN).

Anyone else going to a Women of Faith Conference?

(Photo taken for my Mom - only she didn't know it)

Proud Momma

2009-09-16T23:53:00.001-07:00

Princess D played her first Volleyball game ever tonight... made her volleyball-lovin' Momma SO proud!! She started practice a couple weeks ago, and couldn't get a serve over the net to save her life. Matter of fact even passing the ball was quite a challenge - those arms kept wanting to bend at the elbows and that little head kept wanting to turn away whenever the ball flew her direction. I've spent quite a bit of my time working with this team (I'm NOT the coach, just the mascot! haha!) and being able to see them all improve so much has been a blast!

You couldn't tell this girl didn't know how to serve a ball last week. Now, this girl's got game! She's got her first win under her belt, and a big smile on her sleeping face by now.

Not to be outdone... her older sister's game started an hour and a half later, in another town a half hour away. (Yeah, I'm crazy and I love to drive all over tarnation). I missed the first few minutes because I was cheering on a bunch of 6th Graders, but I got to see this determined little gal of mine hit FOURTEEN serves in a row! It was unreal. The opposing crowd started to look a bit embarrassed after about point number nine... then other coach called a time out to rattle our team up a bit, as well as announcing a few impromptu substitutions, but it didn't seem to phase 'em much.

Another win! Way to go girls. I'm proud of ya!

And in other news... I'm about THE WORST sports photographer ever. I'm almost sorry I even tried, but now I know to stick with things that hold still until I can get a brain transplant. *sigh*

Bribing the Kids is History

2009-09-15T08:04:00.000-07:00

Something happened to me recently. Maybe it was that brawl with my husband about doing chores. You know, the typical male/female war about who's responsible for what when running a household? When we got married, I asked what his expectations were of me. He said, "I just want you to do what makes you happy because I love you." So, I've pretty much stuck with his line of thinking these past seven years or so, and let me tell ya, the man has changed! He is no longer ok with me just laying around eating bon-bons and twittering. I'm not sure what his problem is, but now he has expectations. I don't know where they came from and I don't like em!

Regardless of my feelings, I am a stay at home Mom now, and the guy thinks that my position involves a whole slew of "jobs" that I was not previously aware of. *Looks around* Nobody believes me when I say that. Hmph! So I've got this mental list of JOBS (that if I were to ever write them down, I'd never finish!) and it sometimes overwhelms me, to be honest with ya. Things like floors, walls, sheets, brooms, laundry, homework and dinner all tend to get lumped into one pile, and I just pick from whatever crawls out the top and looks most demanding. Or menacing. You decide.

A few days ago, I sat down with my trusty Excel program and whipped out charts for each of the four kids that live here, my husband, myself and the dog. (Don't kid yourself, it took hours) Some of the jobs are things I'm expected to have done - so I passed the joy along to my kids. (Oh come on, kids can wash their own sheets!) Some of the things are everyday stuff like BRUSH YOUR STINKIN TEETH! And then, knowing full well that the dog does a terrible job washing sheets, and yet a moderately good job at tearing apart pillows, I scratched his name off the list right away.

The kids lists are finished. They are a constant work in progress though, and I can't emphasize how much I stress the word FLEXIBLE (to myself and to them). My dear husband and I had grown increasingly frustrated with the lack of direction and the lack of motivation that our kids drove around with every day (not that they drive cars, thank goodness). We are hoping that this will solve some problems and make communication and relationships a bit smoother around these parts. I'm quickly learning, that my own list consists of doing my stuff while the kids are at school, and then following them around the whole time they are home to make sure they're getting through their lists. It's ok, it will be a habit soon, right? Right??

The lists are written in half hour increments. From the time they wake up, to the time they go to sleep, they have something they should be doing. These lists are something I would have cringed at if my Mother had shoved one to me, but strangely, my kids are not all that opposed. The other weird phenomena, is that they aren't begging for cash, or a treat, or any sort of reward, they are just moving down the list and checking things off as they go. I think their favorite part is when I actually schedule in FREE time because it means I'll leave them alone for at least an hour a day. I gotta tell you, it's a bonus for me too, because they are more inclined to move along the list faster just to get a longer free time. If they don't get through their basic chores, it cuts into free time. No bribing and no arguing, just natural consequences. It's a beautiful thing.

I have this huge problem with paying my kids for doing their chores. I'm not sure what it is exactly that bugs me, but I guess I'd get offended if someone wanted to pay me for staying home with my children. It's not that I wouldn't TAKE the money (Oooh, don't get me wrong there!) but I do it because it's the job God gave me. I am a part of this family, it's my responsibility as a family member to care for others in our "unit". I hope our kids grow up with that feeling too, instead of, "I am an employee of this family, and I will work when I get paid and I will protest and picket outside in the front yard when I do not get paid enough!"

Allowance is a tricky topic around here too. I pretty much just give the kids an allowance each month and I don't make a huge deal of it. I do it so they will learn how to manage funds, and to make them feel a sense of responsibility for paying for things that they want or need that are not in my budget (that I'd have to figure out how to pay for anyway). When we went on our cheap-o vacation last month, each kid pitched in fifty bucks. Of course I had to do a little convincing to get them to voluntarily fork it over, but they got the picture. We all helped with our family vacation. (Good thing too, since our vacation budget got stabbed multiple times by the new tires we had to buy along the way).

Our kids don't get a large allowance. I've read what the going rates are, and our family is far below poverty rates as far as weekly allowance goes. I'm more like the MONTHLY allowance type, and I move it straight into their savings accounts so no cash gets lost or spent on a whim. Just yesterday, my oldest came to me needing a chunk of cash for some volleyball gear that I couldn't squeeze out of our budget, so she got to pull it from her own account. Boy, do I like that! And let me tell ya, she'll treat those belongings a little nicer too since it was her own money that bought them.

Overall, I'm not ok with just throwing money at my kids. I do expect that they will do chores because they are asked to, and not with the expectation of a paycheck. On the other hand, I expect that they will pay me if I have to do their chores for them, and I really expect that they will tithe as well as save for the future.

Now on the other hand REWARDS are fair game. This morning, I slipped into my youngest son's lunch a mini-bite-sized pack of the smallest chocolate cakes known to man, all the while announcing (to the whole household) that he was getting cake in his lunch today because he was the only one to get his entire list finished yesterday. Boy was HE excited! And all I heard from the other kids was, "What?? CAKE??" and then the wheels started turning in their minds and I didn't have to say a word.

Halleluiah. Bribing the kids is history. (Well it is in MY dreams anyway)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

2009-09-02T09:36:00.001-07:00

I figured I'd better get on here and write something before even more history came and went and I was left to write a book. I'm in no mood to write a book, sorry.

I've was absent for most of the last month because:

My laptop died
My camera died
My cell phone had issues
I went on a vacation to Idaho
Then school started - a week earlier than we were prepared for.

Now, I have been able to replace my phone. I caved in and let my husband talk me into an iPhone. He liked it so much that he got one too. The applications are what sold me. (The free ones anyway, I'm so dang cheap). I now have an app to keep track of my spending, an app to divy up my kids' allowance and keep track of what they owe me, an app to use any instant message available to mankind, an app for Facebook, apps to find the closest park, campground or fast food restaurant nearest to me, an app to keep bugs away, and even an app to read my bible whenever I want. Now... that could be part of the reason for my lack of blogs. It took a long time to set up that stuff! But in all reality, it's hard to blog on a cell phone no matter how snazzy it is. Well that, and I still don't have a computer.

I got my camera replaced though. Great news, I finally got that Digital SLR I've always been dreaming of. Well, it's a "starter" version, but I LOVE IT. The even better news is that I don't have to pay for it for 18 months. (Argh! Credit was my last choice, but I was going to die and my husband thought it was the only way to revive me without mouth to mouth resuscitation which would give him cooties) Anyway, the laptop is having to wait because now I'm last in line. My husband's computer still functions (see, I'm using it the second he left it for a minute) and my kids still need one for their homework, so I'm last. MOM IS LAST! That's no newsflash really. It's just normal stuff.

I think I'll try posting short blogs with my phone. But if my fingers fall off, as they undoubtedly will when I get long-winded, just check in and leave a get well card or something.

Did I mention that I went on vacation to Idaho? I'm not sure why they call it a vacation. It's more like "many days squashed together with so-called-adventures that are stressful and make you pull your hair out". But it's all good. I came back alive, and so did my kids and my husband. Barely.

We really did have a lot of fun with my in-laws, (even though my sweet sister-in-law ended up on bedrest for the entire duration, the poor thing!), with old friends, and with each other. Now I'm out of words, so I'll just show some pictures of our day at the lake, and get back to taking care of my daughter. She had oral surgery today, which went smoothly I might add, and is in need of more attention than usual.

Enjoy! I miss you blog land friends, but I'm never too far off! (Which means I read posts on my phone, but I just don't have the fingertips left to post comments on all of them!)

My youngest

My niece and her curly locks of loveliness

My son and his cousin

My niece again (because I couldn't stop taking pictures of her in all her cuteness)

Nephew - Mr Photogenic (gets it from his mother)

My nephew from hubby's side of the family

The youngest nephew of the bunch

Oh fine... I'll just throw a few more at ya.

You know you want one.

Oh yes, she's irresistable. Sorry no more pics of my OWN dadgum kids - but they're ok with that (I think.)

Thanks. Sorry it was a bit much, but there's never too much of a good thing, right? Cut me some slack already.

Les Schwab Road Tour

2009-09-02T09:11:00.000-07:00

We've named our recent vacation the "Les Schwab Road Tour". For those of you unfamiliar with the name "Les Schwab", it's the name of a rather large chain of Tire centers in the Western States. My children are now traumatized everytime we drive by one. We used the services of FOUR of them just on the way TO Idaho. Now if you're already a Facebook friend, you saw frequent updates of our "adventures". Sorry if it's a repeat, but here's what happened (in a nutshell).

We plan trip weeks in advance
We plan to leave at 9 a.m. to pick up step-daughter in Portland on the way by 10
We plan to be at our campground by 4 pm at the latest
We leave house by11
Pick up step-daughter by one(ish)
We eat Lunch at Multnomah Falls (beautiful!)
We drive a couple more hours
Weather report from the car: 103 degrees
Shred a tire on the travel trailer in the middle of nowhere
Dance around the trailer wondering what on earth to do
Pull off spare tire and thank Jesus that it's a decent spare
Thank Jesus profusely for sending a random Les Schwab employee by at just the right time
(Thank you Les Schwab guy from The Dalles, Oregon!)
Take pictures of Les Schwab employee changing our stubborn tire
Hit the road again and drive another half hour
Shred another tire on the opposite side of the trailer
Curse
Pray for forgiveness
Call roadside assistance and find out they can only help you if you have prepared yourself with two spare tires and that they can't do any assisting
Call the next closest Les Schwab and find out they'll have someone come in after hours to help us if we hurry and get there
Park in a really strange fashion across the ditch, so as to level the trailer
Smack off fire ants from ankles
Pick tumbleweed bits out of bottoms of feet
Unhook the trailer
Go crazy from the biting flies
Say huge prayers that God will protect our belongings while we drive off, with only one of the two doors locked on the trailer because nobody knows where the key went
Get to Les Schwab in Hermiston, call pager that the manager left us a number for and wait, for what seems like forever
Les Schwab guy finally shows up and takes a full HOUR just to find the right price for our tire
Watch as the sun sets, and picture our trailer in flames alongside the highway in my mind
Pay for tire
Feed kids at a Subway restaurant inside a Walmart while my husband shops for a large jack
Visit Gas station while scarfing sandwich
Drive the hour back to our trailer, nervous as heck that we'll even still have a trailer when we get there
Thank Jesus that our trailer was left untouched
Scan for rattlesnakes on the rocks
Hook up trailer
Beat off fireants from ankles again
Yell at kids to stop fighting and to stay in the vehicle for the love of Pete
Assist tire change
Get on the road again by 10:30 pm
Drive gingerly and with much tension
Arrive at campground sometime really late
Set up camp and get this nagging feeling that one of the tires looks low on air
Argue over who forgot to pack the tent pegs
Visit the showers and get rid of the dust and fire ant guts
Asleep at 2 a.m.

A couple days later...
Wake up, load up, and get out of town
Drive to nearest Les Schwab store in La Grande, Oregon and ask for a trailer tire
Les Schwab guy inspects our tires and points out that they have no trailer tires in stock, but that we're sporting a shiny metal screw in one of our 2 remaining tires. It's the suspicious tire from the night before, of course.
Repair tire, make calls to next Les Schwab store, hit the road again.
Eat something somewhere
Arrive at Les Schwab store in Baker City, Oregon and ask for a trailer tire
New tire in place, spare tire packed back up and we hit the road again grateful to be MOST of the way to Idaho. Everything after that is pretty much a blur... or another blog post anyway :)

Did you know?

2009-08-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

...that a cow has "gutters"?

They are also known as "milkers" or maybe even "squirters" or "hangy down thingies"?

I learned this today from my farmer-wanna-be son, when trying to figure out what he meant by "cows have gutters".

I could go all sorts of places with that one, but for your sake, I'll stop. Right now. And pressure wash my brain.

*snicker*

Confession time

2009-08-04T23:20:00.000-07:00

Yeah, yeah... I can hear it now. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

Well it's like this. I've been all over, but I've still been here. Sort of. Ever get those times when you have so much to say that you're just not sure where to start? So then, I do what comes naturally to me, and I put off starting to say something so that I don't have to try to figure where to start and when to stop. That last part is what I find most difficult.

In the last post I left on here (3 weeks ago *gasp*), I talked about confession. Well now it's my turn. It really has taken me this long to sort through all this. I don't even know who sticks around to read this anymore, and really it would be fine with me if nobody did, because this is one of those moments that is begging for a purge. I'd really hate to get any on you. But... if you're reading, then here ya go!

All of my life, as far back as I can remember, I have struggled with my body image. I don't think I was overly heavy as a child, or particularly ugly, but I distinctly recall feeling the need to cover up and hide behind either extra clothing or a mask of humor to keep from feeling the hurt. One of the early images that sticks out in my mind in full color is from the 4th Grade. My Mom was pretty insistent that I continue to wear dresses or skirts a lot of the time, (and so was one Sunday school teacher in particular) which meant that my bare legs were left to show. Now 4th graders didn't wear pantyhose, and I don't recall opaque stockings being an option, but I had long socks. They were nice enough socks, and I always felt a weird sense of security in the fact that my socks went clear up to my knees. I thought I had huge legs so anything to cover them up was a good thing. Looking back, I often wonder what on earth I was thinking.

I hid behind those socks though, until I was allowed to wear pants to school all the time. Thankfully long socks weren't complete fashion suicide, or I might have just died. Eventually the time came that my parents were ok with me choosing to wear pants all the time. But unfortunately for me, it was also the same time that those itsy bitsy denim mini-skirts came into style. It didn't really ever matter what I wore, I always felt like a disaster. By the time the mini-skirts came around, I wasn't really into wearing them because I thought I looked good or I had body parts to show off, I wanted to wear one because everyone else did. Thankfully my parents didn't go for that. And even the one time I snuck a mini-skirt to school in my bag, and changed into it in the bathroom before the first bell, was one of the most uncomfortable days of my life. All the pulling and tugging just to make sure that all my body parts were properly in place was too much work for me. Looking stylish carries a bigger price, I learned, than just the tag on the clothes.

Many years have passed since those days, and I have perfected the art of laughing things off that hurt. In some ways it's good and healthy to be able to laugh about things and set them aside, but in some ways it means I'm not being completely honest with myself either. I am the first person to joke about my weight, and about other aspects of myself, and in all honesty I really can laugh about it. Particularly with those closest to me. But on the flipside, I also carry an intense feeling of shame and guilt over not being able to do something about it this huge burden I've been carrying around for years. It's heavy, and even though I've carried it a long time, I sure haven't built up any more muscles for carrying it than I had back in the 4th Grade.

Sometimes I think back to the times that people have poked fun at me or said something to maybe manipulate me into feeling bad in case I hadn't noticed what I looked like in the mirror. It didn't happen a lot, and it usually only came from well meaning family members trying to convince me to live up to someone's ideals of "healthy". It didn't matter if I played basketball, or volleyball, or rode my bike or rode a horse. It just mattered what I looked like to someone else. I don't like remembering those moments, because those are the times that I was hurt, but didn't dare say anything. Those are also the kinds of moments that take the longest to forgive, because the offending party most likely doesn't know they hurt me in the first place. I was always too chicken to say so - still am, for that matter. But it really hasn't changed that hot burn of shame that rushes to my face and ears when I recall those things. I have worked very hard towards letting that stuff go.

I'm going to change gears here for a bit, and bring up something that is bugging the HECK out of me. This past school year, we were given a heads up that our children would be coming home with a report card and a bonus. A BMI report. Now I understand the need for our schools and our government to feel that it's time to take a stand against unhealthy children, but I'm wondering if there isn't a more tactful way to send home a letter that tells you your kid is fat? My skinny little 9 year old is borderline. My active-so-much-I-can't-get-a-breath-EVER six year old is overweight?? What the????

Needless to say both my girls take things like this pretty hard. They are in the special years (11 and 13) where their body and their hormones are completely taking over and it adds all sorts of extra cuddly-ness in areas that they would rather not even THINK about right now, let alone get a letter sent home to Mom and Dad about. So what if they have a bummer metabolism that was handed down genetically (so sorry my sweeties) by BOTH sides of their family, and then they get a letter along with their report card that says they might be passing their classes in school, but their bodies get big F. Ugh! Puleeeeese, for the love of Pete, can't we just pat them on the head and say they are lovely, and beautiful and scoot them on through school like we do with their GRADES?? Gaaaa!!

Ok, so where was I? Oh yes. MY issues. I'll just lay it all out. It's not a rant, or a whine, it's just a reality check for me along with a call for help and for a tremendous amount of prayer and encouragement. And for (*gulp*) accountability.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I am unhappy when I can't participate in activities with my family like they need for me to.
I understand all that stuff about loving yourself, but I do not. And I really want to.
I don't want my girls thinking of me and my size as something to fear "being like" when they grow up.
I love that my sons think I'm beautiful (and they really do tell me that all the time) but I want them to have a Mother that is doing the best she can to be a positive role model.
I am not as close to God as I could be because I feel like I'm not doing the best with what He gave me. This body is a temple, and I've ransacked it.
I'm also not as close to my husband as I could be, because of years of practice at hiding myself.

There, I said it.

Now here's where I say what my goals are before God and everyone (obviously, I've planned this ahead of time. *giggle*)

Goal number one, is to tell someone each day what my goals are.
Goal number two, stop drinking my drug of choice, SODA for 2 weeks straight.
Goal number three, six glasses of water a day. (I'm working my way up)
Goal number four, TAKE THOSE VITAMINS I BOUGHT!
Goal number five, journal my food intake
Goal number six, exercise more
Goal number seven, drop 100 pounds.

Ugh... that was so hard for me to put into words. BUT - I do have some comments to make about those goals that I just threw out there. I don't start things big time without hiding it from the public for a while (fear of immediate failure and all that) and I do want to share my success so far. Because I need to. So sit still.

I haven't been very good at telling someone every day about my goals. I'm afraid. And I'm honest about being afraid too. It took me a week just to be able to talk to my husband about it. Don't be offended.

I have not had a single drop of soda in 16 days, ever since I started this. (And I don't miss it too much either)

I have not managed to get six actual glasses of water into my mouth every single day, but I certainly am doing LOTS better, and it's becoming a habit to keep it nearby.

I AM taking a multi-vitamin (as well as an additional vitamin for eye health - thanks Mom) just about every day now. I forgot here and there at first, but the habit is forming.

I am journaling every single thing that goes in my mouth - and I'll tell you how I'm doing it here in a bit.

I am finding ways to exercise more. Took the kids swimming twice instead of sitting in the house all day. Took them to the fair and walked their legs off. Went on a hike at Silver Falls State Park and about died, but it's all good. I originally posted a personal goal of doing cardio 3x a week (after all, I DO have my own treadmill and stationary recumbent bike!), but I'm finding that a strained calf muscle that I injured at camp almost a month ago is going to slow me down for a bit. No biggie. I guess I gotta let it heal or face dire consequences - so they say.

Goal number seven? I'm six percent there. At least I was as of 2 days ago. (Only weighing in once or twice a week.) And really, I'm not on a "biggest loser" kick. I'm taking it slow and HEALTHY and have given myself 2 years to get 'er done and form life-long habits. If it happens sooner, I'm all for it!

So here's what I'm doing. And if you have ANY inclination whatsoever to join me, I would so so so so soooo SOOOOO think it was the best thing ever because I kinda/sorta feel all alone out here right now. I joined Sparkpeople over 2 weeks ago. I'm not sure exactly how I found it, or if I'd ever even heard of it before, but it's good. It's free. I like free. I'd still be doing Weight Watchers if I could afford it - that's a good program too. This sparkpeople thing is not a specific diet. I hate diets. I'm all about changing my lifestyle in bits and pieces. It's about building a foundation. On the website, I enter everything I eat (and it usually figures out the calories/fat/and whatever else I ask it to track for me- in my case sodium and some nutrients like iron and calcium I'm keeping an eye on for health reasons) then, I can follow my goals. I have my own progress page. They even have a message board with a gazillion people just like me who are there for support or to give support. Way cool. I give kudos. And free... did I mention free? I'm not advertising. I get nothing for it. But it's an idea, if you're out of ideas. And I'm on there. That's just a little bonus. Come join me. I need accountability and I need buddies like never before.

So there you have it. It's about time I fessed up, because I know some of you have been wondering what I'm up to. And now I feel a hundred pounds lighter just tellin' ya!
www.sparkpeople.com Check it.

Word Filled Wednesday James 15:16

2009-07-15T05:02:00.001-07:00

The purpose of Word Filled Wednesday is to share the Word through a photo and a verse. This is one of the guys from my own church - who was also the drummer for our worship team at Camp last week.

James 15:16 - Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.

~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the BIG things we talked about at High School camp last week was CONFESSION. We talked about it, we practiced it, and we rejoiced at the broken hearts that were beginning the healing process. On one night, we opened up the microphone to allow the youth to come forward and get something off their chest. What happened - was nothing short of a miracle. Out of the hundred people at the camp, at least ninety percent of them were up front at one time. All together, in a huge, hugging, crying bunch. Staff and campers alike. Almost all of the youth had something to say - something to confess, and support to offer each other. No sooner had one young person confessed something, than another young person would take the mic and confess to having the same problem. The overwhelming amount of encouragement and support was way beyond anything we could have imagined. It was an absolutely beautiful, although tear-filled, occasion and one that nobody in attendance will soon forget.

If you have a moment, please say a prayer for strength for our youth. Now is the time that they are the most vulnerable, and most prone to being attacked spiritually. I have a few campers reading my blog today - and I want to tell you that I love you, I believe in you, and you are SO WORTH IT to me!

Please visit Extravagant Grace for more inspiring, and uplifting posts from other WFW Contributors - go right now!

You can join in too!

Talking to God

2009-07-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

I typically don't go around photographing people having personal time with our Heavenly Father. This past week, the glory of the Lord shone so brightly on the faces of these amazing young people that I felt compelled... no, more like LED, to capture some of these moments. I do not look for comments, I just want others to appreciate what I got to get a glimpse of... open hearts and humble spirits. I love camp, and I love each and every one of the people that I got to share my week with.

Amen.