Girl On A Roof

The Path

2012-01-29T19:40:00.000-08:00

A path into the woods extends an invitation that no other option in my day offers. It beckons me to step inside a place that is outside. A place I walk alone. And the farther I venture, the less I hear the voices I've left behind. Now I am hearing leaves underfoot and branches bending under the tiny feather weight of a bird resting to investigate my passing. My steps persist and I am aware of the silence. In the silence my spirit quickens to the slightest movement. Soon I am noticing tiny changes. I hear breath where I had not known any life existed...until I walked the path.

That path is what prayer is like to me. It is an invitation to see life that I will not experience any other way. Having a conversation with God, I am soon hearing His voice instead of my own. I am going inside a place that is outside of myself. That slight movement is God's attentiveness. And those changes are the working of His Spirit on the one I for whom I am praying.

The temptation is to turn back. Voices are calling, there is work to be done. I stand on the edge of that path and unless I have fully entered, I will see no difference.

Milking Day

2012-01-19T06:47:00.000-08:00

"It's a gift. Either you got it or you don't." Mr. Lankford was talking about homesteading. I could feel my throat tighten up. "What if I don't have it?" my mind was asking itself. I was there to milk a cow for the first time and I was really nervous that I couldn't do it. Mr. Lankford didn't know I was apprehensive about the cow recognizing me as an imposter and kicking me off the stool.

He's been teaching me everything from how to make butter to how to stop a dog from sucking eggs. Now I am ready to go to the source for my butter making. Two years on the farm and I feel the time has come to consider owning our own cow.

As he calls Rosie in and sits down to get started, I'm thinking, "Oh good. He's doing to do it." But has luck would have it he gets up and says, "You try." He didn't say a word as I pulled and tugged and nothing came out. Finally! I hear the milk hit the pail and I almost cried! "You're doing good," he says and I finally relax. I could feel my back aching because I had not set my stool close enough to the cow. But as I got more comfortable, so did Rosie. I didn't get a glassful that first day. But I got something: the gumption to go back day after day and keep trying. So I'm milking, the kids are milking and Mr. Lankford and Rosie remain very patient.

Needful Things

2012-01-01T11:17:00.000-08:00

I love making New Year's resolutions. Not too fond of keeping them. I am a starter. I have countless sewing and craft projects waiting patiently for me in nice little boxes. My head is full of farming practices that I want to fit into the second half of our school year. I always have a number of colorful, curling bookmarks peering out from books sitting on flat surfaces around my house. They call to me as I walk from room to room, "Just one page. Pick me up and feast your eyes on what I am holding inside."

So today, like all January ones, I am laying out the things I really need for a new year. I need God's Word to light my path. When I slow down to read it, I am drawn away from my scattered yet fun pursuits back to the one that matters most. My highlighter with it's ever-ready book marks. Because I will always read more than one book at a time and I will need to go back and reread inspiring discoveries. My personal journal. Someday a distant relative will discover there was an old lady in her past who shared her dreams to change the world. A small box to hold cards listing the names and needs of those I pray for. And lastly a book of memories for each child. Occasionally I pick up these books and jot down a memory too precious to let time push aside. I am discovering that many characteristics I noticed in my children as toddlers are proving to be foundational to the persons God is developing them to be. Keeping these books was wise advice given me from a wise friend.

So what do I want to do with this stack of stuff? I want to slow down to meditate and memorize the parts of scripture that arrest my heart. I want to write, write, write my love to my children. I want to read an hour a day, farming books mostly. I want to learn new things and try new things and start new projects that I don't have time to finish. I want to get every drop out of this precious life I have been given.

2011 In Pictures

2011-12-31T07:21:00.000-08:00

My Frosting

2011-09-19T06:30:00.000-07:00

What if imagination and art are not frosting, but the fountainhead of human existence? My friend Megan tweeted this quote after seeing a piece of ar t bearing it. I find it quite validating because I thrive on stolen moments when I can exercise a little creative expression.

The temptation is to allow ourselves the freedom for creativity only when all the dishes are washed and the math problems completed. Maybe we are getting it wrong. Maybe using our imagination more would alter how we view other responsibilities.

My oldest son started high school this year and we changed his curriculum to make room for his musical pursuits. Ah the freedom of homeschooling! Much like Danny, all of our kids are creative, so I feel it my duty to model a little creativity from time to time and let the dishes wait!

Intentional Friendship

2011-09-05T18:06:00.000-07:00

Three years ago I left a gathering with friends feeling exhausted and discouraged. Driving home, this single line permeated my thoughts: "These people don't really know me and they are ok with that." I made a decision that day to evaluate my friendships. I actually made a list. I wrote down the names of friends who leave me drained in one column and the names of those who inspire, encourage and are like-minded in the other. Then I made a commitment to spend my time and energy pursuing relationships with those on the 2nd list instead of spending time with the others out of habit. This has proven to be a turning point in my life.

Three years later relationships look very different to me. I have fewer people in my life. But the relationships with these people are so much deeper. I've since moved to another state. But I am finding that the friends I intentionally spent time with are still a part of my life. Ironically, alot of the busyness I used to think was normal has melted away and intentional living has replaced it. Hmmm.

Meet the Milkman

2011-01-22T17:23:00.000-08:00

I really like him. He's got the greatest smile. I get a little nervous when I am around him. I can tell I'm nervous because I talk too much. I should be listening. He has so much to tell. I have to listen intently because his voice gruff and small. But his knowledge isn't. And I can just bet if I'd stop peppering him with questions, I'd hear more than just the answers I seek.

Mr. Lankford will be 80 this year. He's my favorite person in Cherryville. Thanks to him we drink fresh, raw milk. Thanks to him we make our own butter. Thanks to him our chickens are eating organically and laying through the coldest months. I never tire of driving across town when we need milk because I know I'm going to learn something from his words. On the drive back, I try not to forget what he says about okra and soil and timing. I have a journal back home where I record his admonishments on gardening and animal husbandry.
As soon as the sky stops dumping snow on us and the sun warms the ground, he's going to teach me to milk a cow. Living simply has brought many blessings.

Epiphany

2011-01-06T06:13:00.000-08:00

We celebrate our first year as farmers.

My oldest says it's been the best year of his life. And I would have to agree.

We are on the road to simplicity.

I am learning simplicity through the eyes of a chicken.

My parents finally moved to the country with us.

Thanks to God's grace and this great guy in the yellow shirt. I am living out a life long dream.
Happy Epiphany and Happy 2011!

More on Listening

2011-01-02T13:19:00.000-08:00

Capturing my thoughts has been like trying to catch that piece of paper that escapes when you open your car door. You really need it. But you don't want to look like an idiot running around the parking lot grasping for it.

I've had a difficult time with words this past year. So I was thinking...maybe God just wanted me to listen in 2010. Today it hit me. That wasn't listening. That was just prep time. God has been getting me ready to listen. My life has changed much in a year. Distractions have been removed. My life has slowed down. Things are more simple.

Remember how Zechariah heard the very voice of God in the temple? He knew his son was a prophet. He knew the Messiah was on the way. But he was not allowed to tell any of it. Can you imagine the pressure that was taken off Zechariah? He didn't have to run tell the world. He couldn't. So he just listened. I bet he heard more in that 9 months than he did his whole life!

God is teaching me to resist the urge to respond with my mouth so I can learn to listen with my heart. And it took me a year to even see what He is doing.

Words For A New Year

2011-01-01T20:23:00.000-08:00

Listening. That is how I spent New Year's Day. Constant rain has kept me indoors most of the day. But it's just as well. It is easier to listen this way. Instead of making lists of things I want to do in the coming year but won't, I have asked for direction. I am waiting...With my crisp clean calendar at arm's length and pen poised.

And this is what I hear: Only one thing is needful. So I keep listening.

I have a high pressure job. A lot of people depend on me. I want to get it right. What should I teach them, read to them, play with them? Ah, he says, "It's not so much what you say, but how you say it."

So we are working on my words again this year? "Yes," He says, "we will work on them until you get them right."

In the book I am reading today, I stopped to contemplate this: In all your endeavors, remember that the importance of a single word from God to man is of more value than all the treasures of earth. And respect the value of your own words. Those who carry the truth must be true. To be entrusted with God's Word is to be entrusted with the power by which the universe is held together.

Fight for Your Right to Simplify

2010-08-09T06:15:00.000-07:00

I am stretched so thin that I can feel my skin splitting. OK, that's just gross. Let me start with this. When I was a kid, my little brother had a toy called Stretch Armstrong. You could pull him, stomp him, bend him into unnatural shapes and he was pretty tough. But after too much abuse, the goo would start to leak out of him. That is how I feel. I am loosing goo. I guess that is gross too. But there is no pretty color to paint exhaustion.
This farm has moved me to a place of simplicity I had longed for but thought unrealistic. Now I know it can be done and I am not going to give up so easily. I was living my life at a slower pace, cooking from scratch, gardening, meandering through chicken coop, picking fresh blueberries for crying out loud! Then I got what I asked for: our house in Atlanta sold in two weeks! But we weren't finished building onto this house. Rush set in as I had to finish painting 1,700 sq. ft. here and help my parents move from there. Suddenly the kids were fixing their own breakfasts and lunches as I "went to work." I sanded, painted, packed, garage saled. For two weeks we had 8 people and all their stuff crammed into a tiny house with two bedrooms and a loft.

We doubled the size of the house and only added two people. You would think we'd have plenty of space to organize. But instead it looks like a bomb went off in here. Everywhere I turn there is stuff, stuff, stuff. It's pouring off tables and benches! People are asking me where stuff is and where stuff goes. I want to escape. But I have to finish what I started. My simplicity is under here somewhere!

I felt immobile last week. So this week my goal is to whip it all into shape so I can get back to being a farmgirl. It's time to start the homeschool year, replant the garden for a fall crop and eliminate whatever is eating my chickens! Doesn't that sound more fun than being stressed and overworked?

I Can't Do It All

2010-07-22T03:25:00.000-07:00

I never thought physical labor would be so appealing. I like to read and sew and eat. But this summer I have learned something...Farms don't look good all by themselves. And the more I sweat, the better I feel. This week after working outside a full 7 hours through heat, rain, storms and more heat, I stopped to ponder the sheer joy I feel to be living in this place. There they hung, like ribbons dangling down to touch my face and draw my attention to the One who gave me this gift. How powerful an image when you know the original intent of that first rainbow.

So today I will go out there again and try to undo the mess my inattentiveness to my garden has created. But I am not lazy. I swear! My attentions have been turned elsewhere, equally as important. Yet somehow while I am working so hard on one area, another one spreads out of control. The perfectionist in me tries to beat up the naturalist who wants to sit back and take in every sunset. I will not be bullied. I am learning as I go. Today I will battle beetles and weeds and tonight I will rest knowing I have done all I can do.

What Hasn't Changed

2010-06-11T06:15:00.000-07:00

No one in this family likes to get up early. You'd think I would get up early to feed the 40 animals or work in the garden before the sun spreads it's heat. No thank you! The animals have adjusted to our schedule and I just put on sunblock and challenge those rays in the middle of the day. The problem is, it is so fun out here in the evening that everyone wants to be outside until the sun goes down. Then we go to bed late and exhausted. Thus, we sleep a little later than the average farmer. It will be interesting to see if this changes the longer we do this.

I'm still unorganized. I still start new projects before I finish others. I still love to read lots of books at the same time. And I still get irritable when people aren't doing what I say when I say. But I am working on that one!!

Our First Six Months on the Farm

2010-06-09T20:14:00.000-07:00

Six people can live in a 2 bedroom house. There is a loft, which pretends to be another bedroom. Mostly that's great, but sometimes we cannot be fooled. As you might imagine, we are very close! Being a homeschool family, we were already used to togetherness. But I believe, over these six months, we have become more patient with one another. We have to be. The only place to go if you need to be alone is outside. But as I came to sit outside in the early hours to type this, I was greeted by 3 cats and a dog. So "alone" is taking on a different meaning.

There have been some notable changes. For one, we are eating better. We would be considered isolated by city standards. So I often cook three times a day. Now that my dad has this fabulous garden in full swing and we can visit the farmers market, the quality of our food has improved. As I had hoped, the kids are trying new things because they have a hand in growing them. We are getting 4 fresh eggs each morning. A short drive on any given day will lead me to raw milk, fresh whole hog sausage, fresh berries.

We are working alot harder. And along with that comes a huge sense of satisfaction and usefulness. Chores have gone from unloading the dishwasher to cleaning up a fallen tree.

Education is not garnered only from books. We have to figure out what's eating the corn stalks and how to help a sick chicken. We are making organic butter and assisting the elderly in playing bingo.

We are learning what it means to depend on people in your community when you run into a new challenge. People really do want to help others. This is something I knew only as an ideal. But when the man I buy poultry from stops what he is doing to mix up antibiotics for our chickens, I know he is helping me because he wants to. The knowledge I am gaining every time I go in his store to buy feed is of much greater value than the price I am paying for that sack of chicken scratch. So if the first six months are an indication of our new life, I welcome the years to come.

Snakes Can Keep a Beat

2010-05-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday two 4 ft rat snakes showed up in the barn. A storm was brewing and my girls were getting the horse in the barn. As PJ was approaching the nesting bucket, she noticed one trying to get his mouth around a chicken egg. As we attempted to remove it with a rake, we found its mate under the bucket. They soon tired of our poking and slowly made their way through the walls of the barn. I never did see where they went.

Well, today they returned and all of a sudden this didn't feel like such an adventure.

While the kids and I were inside learning about snakes through this great blog that shows you how to get the most out of The Handbook of Nature Study, the chickens were outside making a fuss. One snake had swallowed a shaker egg we use to encourage the chickens to lay in the nesting bucket. That didn't fare well for the snake. But he did keep time as he tried to slither away.

Mucking Day

2010-05-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

I have never smelled anything so vile. I didn't know all this had built up in my lovely barn! It was stall mucking day and I was happily scraping the surface, even smiling. This isn't so hard. But the more I scraped, the deeper the yuk seemed to go. Seeing that my own abilities weren't cutting it, I called for back-up. Danny stepped into the moon boots and got in with me. I told him I just needed a little help. There was just one area in the middle of the stall that was the nastiest.

No, he said as he began to shovel. The junk went alot deeper than I thought. The whole stall needed to be cleaned out and it was going to take more strength than I had. As Danny shoveled, it seemed that each layer had a smell of its own. For the past six months I had been skimming the surface, never going deep enough to really clean the filth out of this stall. It was easier just to take off the top layer and throw in some new shavings. But it never took long for what was underneath to show up again.

Why in the world do I do the same thing in my life? Always after the fast fix, I scrap away that first layer thinking, "Surely my heart is cleaner now." Sometimes we have to call someone else in and allow them to dig deeper, to show us what is really under the surface causing us to stink. As I ponder this farm lesson, I have to sit very still and listen. I can hear God scraping. Will I sit here as another layer of my muck is brought to the surface? And what will I do with it? There are big bags of cover-up within my reach. I can grab a good deed and throw it on top. Or I can sit here and allow my heart to be cleaned. One layer at a time.

Start With An Apron

2010-05-19T19:45:00.000-07:00

It all started with an apron. I longed for the simplicity of farm living and for me an apron was a tactile symbol of the life I wanted. My inner city friend was my inspiration. She lived in a crowded neighborhood of downtown Atlanta. Yet she baked, sewed, canned and even had chickens. And...she always wore an apron. Though I felt being as crafty as Amy was not within my reach, I could tie up the apron strings. And so I did. With it came that feeling I guess Flylady gets each morning when she laces up her shoes. I was doing something that took me into the mystique of where I wanted to be. Having no idea farmlife was in my not-so-distant future, I began changing what I could. And though friends thought I was just old-fashioned, I wore an apron everyday.

Now that I am living my dream, my aprons mean even more to me. I don't always know what I'm doing around the farm. And that's okay. Learning as I go makes it fun. Looking back I realize I could have made more small changes that would have incorporated farmlife into suburbia. So I want to ask: What life do you wish you were living? Do yo wish you could stay home with your kids? Homeschool? Change the world? Pick one thing about that lifestyle and start doing it today. Soon you will find that you are making more changes. You will feel more connected to what you are passionate about. What is your apron?

Betsy Ross

2010-04-20T18:14:00.000-07:00

Scrambled eggs or pancakes? Well, that all depends on who laid eggs this morning. There is something fun about not knowing what we are going to eat for breakfast til we see how many eggs we collect. Sure we could just buy a dozen at the store. But where is the fun in that? Besides, store bought eggs taste like chemicals to me now after eating fresh eggs.

We feed them. They feed us. Having chickens is by far my favorite part of farm living. Betsy comes running when you call her. She waits at the front door now. I guess she has figured out where the scraps are coming from. They all have different personalities. But Betsy Ross is my favorite.

It's Time to Tell

2010-04-11T14:57:00.000-07:00

Almost 4 months ago we moved from Atlanta to a farm in North Carolina. I am having the time of my life. The hard work, the 43 animals, it's all proving to be more fun than I ever imagined. I hope I never go back to city life. Everything looks different through the lens of simplicity. And I can't wait to share the lessons I am learning!

Elevation

2010-01-06T11:09:00.000-08:00

I have a shelf and on it sits
Reminders for my heart
A place my eye can take its rest
Upon day's end or start

When all around me swims and swirls
With life's increasing pace
My treasures spill and topple
And lose their hallowed place

Pick out a place that's quiet
To focus on my dreams
Soon I see so clearly
That all's not as it seems

Lift up the objects one by one
Restore each to its spot
With elevation I can see
What's precious - what is not

The Life is the Light

2009-12-11T06:39:00.000-08:00

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not. John 1:4-5

It must have been hard 2000 years ago to recognize a poor couple's baby as the Light of Deliverance. Sure it was; most people didn't get it. The Jewish people were desperate and scared. They lived in fear of Roman oppression. Yet they missed hope when it appeared. Don't you think it is harder now to distinguish true light? We as Americans are still enjoying so many freedoms. We aren't in need of much, at least it is hard to make out that need under the growing pile of all we have accomplished and acquired. I have to think Christmas in more oppressed cultures must be so different. But even self-denial and deprivation wouldn't do it for us. Because what we are seeking doesn't have anything to do with us or what we can deny ourselves.

I think the above scripture holds the answer. His LIFE is the light. Not the benefits or changes he gives. They are good but they aren't the light. We want to find something that would give us the kind of feeling we get from falling in love, losing 50 lbs. or finding a new job. That is human nature. But acquiring is not the same as receiving. In acquiring, we control when the benefits appear. In receiving, we wait. We wait for an unexplained transformation to appear at an undetermined time. And all too often that just isn't good enough. Hence the rest of the first..."the darkness comprehendeth it not." The simple answer just isn't exciting enough so we pass by it and keep looking. We keep looking for that one thing that will change us, grow us, make us into what we know in our soul we were meant to be. The answer lies IN him. It is his life. And we are invited to live it.

I don't think the Life that is the light is not at all elusive. We just don't get it. What if we chose to cut back our schedule at Christmas and stay home a little more, prioritize family nights, read together and listen to what we have read? I think we'd realize that the Light we are looking for at Christmastime actually lies within a Life.

This is just what comes to my mind when I meditate on John 1:4-5. What does it mean to you?

Rumaging Through Memories

2009-10-24T15:58:00.000-07:00

This smell makes me wish I was 10 years younger. Then I would start all over and have more babies....It's 1am and I am cleaning out the basement. I have come across some treasures that I forgot I had. Here is the welcome sign my mom had made for the day we brought PJ home from China. It reads, "Welcome Home China's Fairest Treasure-Promise Joy." Wow, that takes me back. Next I found a tiny pink sleeper that belonged to Dove. When I put it to my face, I could smell that sweet baby smell. I know I am tired, but that smell brought tears to my eyes. Wasn't it just yesterday we were laying Dovie under the bililamp. She was the yellow baby. Next there are pictures I had made holding Jett when he was 6 weeks old. How I wish I had done that with all the kids. At the bottom of the box was something broken that I thought I had thrown away. Underneath newborn socks and ugly outfits I used to dress Noah in, was a bunny that played Brahms Lullaby. The week I found out I was pregnant, I bought that bunny and played it throughout my first pregnancy. I really cried when I held on to that! How can that baby be almost 13 years old?

I sit on the basement floor with these treasures in my lap and think through the stages of my life. How blessed I am. Events and memories flood my thoughts so quickly I try to stop and rewind. I want to remember certain things forever. I capture each one to decorate the ethereal walls in these rooms of memory. Quickly my mind flashes back past one, two, three, four children to the beginning of family. And there before it all is what is still here 18 years later...Danny. Ah, none of this would be what it is had I joined forces with anyone else. Now thoughts turn to prayers, petitions. "OH GOD! Please please please. Guide the path of each of my children. Light the way that leads them to a relationship like the one I have." None of the memories I am playing over in my head would exist had I not married a man who cherishes his family. I get to stay home because he values the role of motherhood. I get to homeschool because he supports me. I am free to make home a full time job because he does what he can to enable me to be here.

Yes, I am blessed! And I will cherish what I have today.

Our Separate Shells

2009-06-30T13:52:00.000-07:00

We sat under a tent by the ocean. I read by lantern light while she listened. I in my oyster bed, mom in her argonauta. Each in different shells of life, we connect with the wisdom offered in this tiny book written nearly 60 years ago. Lindbergh takes us through the phases of our life's relationships. I get a glimpse of the future in her life; she can remember the past through mine.

I want to expound on what I've read. But I before I do, take a look at this portion. It reminds me of recent nights on the beach reading and talking with my mom. It calls me to pay attention to the need in me to relax.

page 94..."Evening is the time for conversation. Morning is for mental work, I feel, the habit of school-days persisting in me. Afternoon is for physical tasks, the out-of-doors jobs. But evening is for sharing, for communication. Is it the uninterrupted dark expanse of the night after the bright segmented day that frees us to each other?

Communication - but not for too long. Because good communication is stimulating like black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after. Before we sleep we go out again into the night. We walk up the beach under the stars. And we when tire of walking, we lie flat on the sand under a bowl of stars. We feel stretched, expanded to take in their compass. They pour into us until we are filled with the stars, up to the brim.

This is what one thirsts for, I realize, after the smallness of the day, of work, of details, of intimacy - even of communication, one thirsts for the magnitude and universality of a night full of stars, pouring into one like a fresh tide. "

This selection touches on something I recently read by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay. She was talking about how, as mothers, we need to focus on winding down in the evening hours, facilitating an environment in which our family can relax at the end of the day. She acknowledges how difficult this can be, especially for a mother who is with her children at home all day. Yet endless busyness will inevitably lead to the fragmentation of our souls. So what do we do? I have a couple of ideas I want to try and see how the mood in my home might change. Retreat is something Lindbergh stresses. I'll share more in my next post.

Build Strong Children

2009-06-29T20:56:00.000-07:00

It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men. ~Frederick Douglass

I am on a hotel balcony looking into the room where two of my children play. I recall this quote twittered today by a friend. It is surreal to watch my family doing life on the other side of glass. I have written about this before...watching my family through a window. I cannot hear what is being said. The dynamic changes when one of my senses is disengaged. What I see is magnified. The smiles, the silent laughter, the eye contact between a brother and a sister.

Tonight Promise has agreed to Jett's request to play. She has chosen a theme he loves: Batman. She has drawn the Joker on a pizza box top and dressed Jett in his favorite Batman costume. Jett watches PJ intently as she explains the rules, which simply are...punch Joker. Why are they are having such fun together? Because one has chosen selflessly to play what the other likes.

Love really is an easy choice. It's not necessary that we always be doing something that is centered around self. Why don't we as parents teach our children to love, give and share on the front side of life? Wouldn't we be setting them up for success as adults? It's not as impossible as culture tells us. If we listen to the loudest voices around us, we hear, "children are a hassle", "motherhood is a burden - certainly not a career choice worth pursuing." But if you were to step out of range of that voice, even momentarily, your ears would ring with the song of the family (borrowed from The Pearl). Listen intently to the Mother Heart within you, and you will question culture. Allow your ear to be drawn and you will pursue something above the status quo. You will not pursue in vain!

Gift from the Sea

2009-06-21T16:46:00.001-07:00

I have been at the beach two weeks and have felt nothing creative. I haven't studied, sewn, or written a thing. And I haven't wanted to. I am not wearing make-up or cleaning, and of all the shoes I brought, I have only worn the flip-flops. Yesterday as a damselfly landed on my beach blanket, I was inspired. I picked up a book I have been saving to read at the beach. I read it with emotion. The very thing I had written in my poem was expressed in the foreword of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's book. Do you know of this woman? Her life was fascinating. I have a few more insights I want to share from her book. But for now, read chapter one here. It is what I feel.

THE BEACH:
The beach is not the place to work, to read, write or think. I should have remembered that from other years. Too warm, too damp, too soft for any real mental discipline or sharp flights of spirit. One never learns. Hopefully one carries down the faded straw bag, lumpy with books, clean paper, long over-due unanswered letters, freshly sharpened pencils, lists and good intentions. The books remain unread, the pencils break their points and the pads rest smooth and unblemished as the cloudless sky. No reading, no writing, no thoughts even - at least, not at first.

At first, the tired body takes over completely. As on shipboard, one descends into a deck-chair apathy. One is forced against one's mind, against all tidy resolutions, back into the primeval rhythms of the sea shore. Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. One falls under their spell, relaxes, stretches out prone. One becomes, in fact, like the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea; bare, open, empty as the beach, erased by today's tides of all yesterday's scribblings.

And then, some morning in the second week, the mind wakes, comes to life again. Not in a city sense -no - but beach-wise. It begins to drift, to play, to turn over in gentle careless rolls like those lazy waves on the beach. One never knows what chance treasures these easy unconscious rollers may toss up, on the smooth white sand of the conscious mind; what perfectly rounded stone, what rare shell from the ocean floor. Perhaps a channeled whelk, a moon shell or even an argonaut.

But it must not be sough for - heaven forbid - dug for. No, no dredging of the sea bottom here. That would defeat one's purpose. The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.

Damselfly

2009-06-20T12:55:00.000-07:00

Small damselfly maintain your post
A shady rest longed for my most

What woman doesn't know your flight
Wings flutter til the dark of night

Your rhythm slows, you take your pause
I think I should join in your cause

Slowing down you gain direction
I too learn from my reflection

Pattern of peace I long to see
Displayed in your simplicity

Alone on the beach, a damselfly lit beside me. In keeping with nature's propensity to inspire, I was given this bit of verse.

The Secret Life of Farm

2009-05-27T18:20:00.001-07:00

I want a farm so bad. It's all I can think about some days. I'm not looking for a working farm. I want a city girl farm....garden, chickens, a tractor I can manage and a horse. The slam of the screen door is what I long for...and the crow of a rooster instead of the robotic sound of my iphone in the a.m.
The desire has grown stronger since the kids pray for a farm every day. Last week Jett said, "Why can't we move to the house with the barn now?" Because God has to give it to us, I said. Jett's next question was, "Is He painting it or something?" Something like that, I told him.

Last night I finished The Secret Life of Bees. I realized why I can't stop thinking of a farm...this book is about that slow, simple life. For three weeks, I have read this book in my free time. My mind was landing on the simple life. My heart wants to follow suit.

In Anticipation of Birds

2009-05-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

I finally opened the door for a peek. I could resist no longer. Every morning we watch the bluebirds at work. So we knew there had to be eggs by now. What a great find. The kids took turns standing on the old chair by the tree. And here is what we found. Now we will watch as the bluebirds work in tandem to bring food for their hungry newborn babies.

In celebration of birds, we made these bird rocks. Some were Grand Mother's Day gifts and some will sit on our patio. Thank you Crafty Crow for this fun idea.

National Apron Day

2009-05-12T18:48:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was national 'Wear Your Apron Day'. You know I love any opportunity to wear an apron. This was our opp to wear one out in public! My family gave me this lovely frock for Mother's Day. My girls and I had fun wearing our aprons running errands, going to piano lessons, even taking Noah to Boy Scouts.

What I really love is the opportunity to share something of a simpler life with my kids. I think it's cool that my girls are more conscious of aprons than Hannah Montana!

Mother's Day

2009-05-12T18:32:00.000-07:00

I don’t think I have ever left a store crying before. I love shopping! Saturday I stopped by a local gift shop to pick out a gift for my mother-in-law. When I walked in, one lady said to the other, “This is the mother of the family that was in here so long the other day.” I knew Danny had taken the kids Mother’s Day shopping and I wondered if Jett had come in there and done something ‘memorable.’ But as they began to tell me their impressions of my family, I felt like the luckiest woman alive.

Without a doubt Mother’s Day is my favorite day of the year. I enjoy the big deal the kids make, the gifts my family gives me and that we go out for lunch somewhere nice. I love that I always spend Mother’s Day with my precious mom who inspired me to pour myself into my family.

This year was no exception. They lavished me with beautiful gifts and hugs and homemade art. We dined on fancy salads and cheesecake while sitting outside by a fountain. But nothing could have made the occasion more meaningful than what I heard those women saying about my husband and children. “Tell us the story on your family.” “Everyone of your children is so precious.” “Your husband was so attentive to each one of them as they shopped for you.” “That man, oh my goodness!” On and on it went as my eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude.

They continued…“Seeing them just made our day.” “We talked about them all day long.” But the one that really got me was….“We know so many rich people, families with plenty of money, but when your family walked out of here I said, ‘That is the kind of family I want to have’.”

Those women don’t know anything about us. They have no idea how we have struggled financially this past year and that picking out gifts in a gift shop was such a treat. But their words were more treasured than gifts that came out of that shop wrapped in beautiful ribbons.

I love Mother’s Day. I feel like the busyness of the world stops for one day (at least my world does) and I get to revel in the fact that I am living a dream. I am surrounded by love. Genuine love. I get to be a wife and mother. Now I did not always think that was a goal worthy of aspiring to. I’ve tried my hand at a lot of things. But nothing has brought me the absolute joy that loving my family brings. The older I get, the more I learn about aspirations.

When I was a kid, my mom tirelessly and patiently raised us to love Jesus and love others. Quietly her example poured into me day after day. As I grew older, the voice of the world grew louder than hers. “Do this. Do that. You have to make a name for yourself. “ All along my mom’s name was just “Mom.” And that is what I came back to!

In the Moment

2009-05-08T19:52:00.000-07:00

"Mom, look at this lake!" Oh, to have had a camera in my hand. The rain had made a puddle larger than life. And lucky Jett! He had remembered his rain boots before jumping in the car for the horse farm. Some of my best homeschool memories this year have been made at this little place tucked away in north Georgia. Today was no exception.

The sun was peaking through clouds just as we arrived. By the time we left, we were so messed up we had to forgo our Walmart run. But man, did Jett enjoy that puddle. He was so proud of the amount of mud on his boots and chunks of nature he had tossed into the slime.

The best part was the excitement on his face. I hope I never forget that smile. He was alive. He was in the moment.

Waves and Breakers

2009-04-21T17:13:00.000-07:00

It was so hard to hear those words. Harder still to see the pain on his face. I haven’t seen sin work that hard on a person in at least 10 years. When we have to wear our sin for others to see, it is so harsh. So harsh. I tend to hide a lot of mine because it is so devastating to the self I have made. But today I saw myself in that raw response to sin.

Today I watched someone I love suffer.

It was the kind of suffering that can only be explained by the Fall of Man. The kind that kicks your butt before you realize you’ve been had. Do you remember the first time that kind of sin entered your life? It sucks you in before you realize it is evil. It’s like that wave on the shore that knocks you down before you get a good look at it. You are having fun, playing in the surf. Then WAM! You are swallowing bitter salt and don’t know which direction is up. At that moment you are only under two feet of murky water. But it feels like 10. If you have been to the beach, you know exactly what I am talking about.

Oh, I saw sin like that today. He didn’t know which way was up. He needed help getting out. Who do you know who needs a hand today? Give him Psalm 42:7.

Mrs. Wagmore

2009-04-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

Two things. That's all I want. Well, that's all I want today anyway. Tomorrow I will want two more things. When I came home from China, I desperately wanted two things: to not be easily irritated by the life’s little mishaps and to never pray the same again. I thought I was O for O. I arrived home in the wee hours Sunday morning. I slept 4 hours then I was up for the Easter festivities. By mid afternoon, the irritability set in. Yeah, I know…jetlag. But I wanted to be easy going. After all, I had missed hearing my name called 40 times an hour…really! And prayer? All I want to do this week is sleep!

The connection in prayer our team experienced was unlike anything I have ever known. The Spirit was directing us and it was exhilarating. We saw the hand of God move in us, in others, in our circumstances.

I realize life is what happens while we are making plans. I am not all that disillusioned. And I also realize that ten days in a foreign country is stepping out of my reality. But I wanted to share this because I think it is significant. It’s so easy to be disappointed with how mundane daily life can be. But as I slowed down today I realized something.

I am praying differently. I am expecting more from my God because I have seen more than I have ever seen before. I don’t ever want to talk AT God. I will listen first to see how He will direct me to pray. After all, He is always at work and I want to get in on what He is doing.

As for the irritability, I am more aware of it. And I guess that is a start. Things don’t change over night. So I am thankful for awareness. Yesterday I saw this blurb: Wag More…Bark Less. Yeah, I think I can do that.

Hungry

2009-04-12T01:10:00.001-07:00

The house is quiet save the four week old kittens crying in my lap. Their mama is refusing to feed them. I've only been home an hour from a trip to East Asia. So here I sit at 3am filling the bellies of hungry kitties with an eye dropper full of warm milk substitute. I notice that one feels very thin and cool. I am not sure he will make it til morning. Another offers a meager reaction to the food. And two vivacious critters are scampering up my shirt trying to get sustenance. I quickly feed the strong ones. They are so easy to manage. They are cute and alert. Then I move on to the one who is responding a little. He really doesn't want to eat, but I manage to get quite a bit down his throat. Lastly I try to hold the cold one still so I can get some milk into his feeble body in hopes of warming him a bit. He cannot swallow too many times in succession. The others are crying louder and louder. They want to be fed. They want to curl up in my lap. When I cuddle them, they settle into the warm layers of my pajamas.

Suddenly I am struck with a sobering thought. This must be how the orphanage nannies feel trying to feed so many hungry babies with only two hands. Though these are only cats and not children, I am drawn to ponder what I have learned of survival. Feeding the weak ones takes so much more time and effort. They can't all be saved. You do what you can with what you have. The stronger ones will make it.

I sat on the floor and cried for the harried nannies and the hungry children who depend on them. And I cried for these kittens. I want them to live. They represent something so much bigger that most of the world will ever see.

May

2009-03-25T23:25:00.000-07:00

I sit upon this branch, to usher in your May,
And you attend my simple song at golden break of day.

I wonder that you listen, through your window near,
I’m flattered that my tiny song can so enchant your ear.

The twig on which I sit, in cold March wind did sway,
Yet firmly on my sturdy perch did I resolve to stay.

So as your seasons change, and winter winds do blow,
You needn’t feel confounded over things you do not know.

Resolve yourself like I, to what you know is true,
And you will sing your joyous song with strength the way I do.

Hold fast to ancient Word, cling tight to hope at bay,
I sit upon this olive branch to usher in your May.

Funeral

2009-03-10T18:25:00.000-07:00

You have starved me, ignored me, even yelled at me. But you haven't gotten rid of me. You apologize for me. Yet I convince you that you're overwhelmed; you need me. I tell you know no one would blame you for turning to me, using me to get your point across. If you keep trying to control me, you will never kill me. So I lay low at times allowing you to think you are in control. In so doing, I escape my funeral another day.

Sometimes sin talks like it has a mind of its own!

Tomorrow marks two weeks of Lent, two weeks of my struggle with myself. God is patiently simmering the pot so that the junk rises to the surface. Will I skim it off? Remove it? Throw it out? I am trying. Here are some examples of the encouragement God has brought my way…

"The reason Lent is so long is that this path to the truth of oneself is long and snagged with thorns, and at the very end one stands before the broken body crowned with thorns upon the cross. All alone with no one illusion or self-delusion to prop one up. Yet not alone...the Spirit has helped to maneuver you and me down that dark, steep path to this crucial spot." Edna Hong

My denial of my sin protects, preserves, perpetuates that sin. Walter Wangerin

What the Lord wants us to present to him is not goodness, nor honesty, or endeavor, but real, solid sin; that is all he can take from us. And what does he give in exchange for our sin? Real, solid righteousness. But we must relinquish all pretense of being anything, all claim of being worthy of God's consideration...If you are up against the question of relinquishing, go through the crisis...Haul yourself up, take a time alone with God, make the moral decision and say, "Lord, identify me with your death until I know that sin is dead in me." It is going to cost the natural in you everything, not something. Jesus said, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself," and a person has to realize who Jesus Christ is before he will do it. Beware of refusing to go to the funeral of your own independence. Oswald Chambers

My Ash Wednesday

2009-03-03T15:23:00.000-08:00

“Cindy, remember Jesus and his sacrifice for you.” These were the words of Pastor Charles as he shaped a cross upon my forehead with the wet ash mixture. Two things stood out to me on this, my first Ash Wednesday experience. One, that someone personalized this experience because he knew my name. And two, when is the last time I thought of what Jesus did for me as a sacrifice?

Time does not stand still allowing us to soak up the essence of the experiences around us. So I chose to hang back and watch my children receive the sign of the cross on their foreheads. I watched as the pastor knelt down to their level. I looked on as they watched one another, their ears took in the words spoken, their skin received the ashes. And I asked God to write something special on the tablet of each heart. I had given them a choice and each decided to take part in this part of the service.

The readings and scripture meditations this week point me to this: Lent is an invitation. Just as I was invited to step up and receive the symbol on my face, God is inviting me to look at Him in that state of hanging sacrifice and see my sin reflected back to me. And if I choose to look closely, I can see the details of my sin on his body. What do I see? I begin to see Cindy and all the experiences that have joined forces to make her who she is today. I see how those experiences have become filters through which she sees the people in her life. I see where she is humble and where she is proud. I am compelled to keep looking and I see more. I see something really ugly. Surely that is not me! Someone else must have stepped in front of me. They are in my way! Their sin is messing up my reflection. Oh God, is that me? I am seeing me! My sin takes on a reality; the kind you can only see if you are really paying attention.

I can walk away, I can ignore it. In a day or two, I could forget this scene. But Jesus won’t leave. He hangs there, reflecting my sin, inviting me to freedom. It is as plain as the ash on my face.

Lent: Springtime for My Soul

2009-02-24T06:02:00.000-08:00

Everything within me is ready for spring. My chilled skin is waiting for the warmth of April sunshine. My garden must feel as forgotten as it looks. We both are longing for the arrival of robins and bluebirds.

As my senses await the renewal spring brings, my spirit anticipates the celebration of Easter. I have found observing Lent (which literally means springtime - the lengthening of days) to be an undiscovered treasure. Like celebrating Advent at Christmas time, experiencing Lent allows me to absorb the significance of Christ showing up in my everyday life.

What I am finding is a resource for transformation. Ironically, that is what Easter holds for those who have put their trust in Christ. The 40 days of Lent allow me to identify with the 40 days of testing our Lord experienced in the desert. That was a time of preparation. How much more do I need preparation? Looking closely at Lent, I see joy and renewal. But before new life can burst forth, there must be death of the old nature.

I am guessing this is where Lent picked up its negative reputation. No one freely wants to die to self. Hence the grumbling and whining that accompany Ash Wednesday. I contend that it is a glorious day. For me it begins a time to be set apart for meditation and growth. Growth requires death of the flesh, but that always proves to be a positive thing for me. So this year, I am seeking to include my family in what I am learning about this pre-Easter observance. I will be sharing what we are doing to get started...like turning the trunk of our Christmas tree into a cross to hold purple candles. Ha! Yeah, our tree is still laying in the wood pile out back!

Worship with Homeless Friends

2009-02-24T05:40:00.000-08:00

I've never heard him sing out this strong. He wasn't nervous or intimidated by the environment. Last night Noah led worship with Chrystina at Safehouse Outreach. It was surreal to watch Noah on stage doing what he already feels is God's calling on his young life. Grayson and Holden (friends and 2nd Wave bandmates) played in the worship band. The adults in the crowd had a blast. What joy it brought them to see these kids up there rocking their hearts out. Holden was too sick to sing so he played electric guitar with all he had. Grayson played the drums like he owned them. People sang and worshipped and smiled and yelled for more. I'm sure Danny will be posting today from a dad's point of view. What a blessing to worship along with my son. As a mom, I watched with tears in my eyes as Noah shared all that what was inside his heart with a room full of hungry and hurting men and women. After the service, we served up 300 boxes of food. Jesus was there. I'm glad I was too.

Happiness Party

2009-02-18T13:07:00.000-08:00

Dovie likes to throw Happiness Parties. When asked what it is, she replies, "A party to celebrate my happiness!" How do you like that? Dovie is surely the happiest kid I know. Her spirit is such a reminder to us to be happy wherever we find ourselves. She adorns the walls with her handmade decorations and constructs a kid-friendly snack menu. Tomorrow she has one such party planned because she knows Danny will be home all day. I have been commissioned to bake brownies for the event. I hope Dovie is always this happy-go-lucky! Thought I'd share this idea in case you need to spread a little cheer this week!

God in the Details

2009-02-17T14:48:00.000-08:00

Back in October I asked people to pray this prayer for David: Quick, Get Up. My friend Katie did it. You've got to take a look at what God did. It will blow your mind and strengthen your faith.

Received this message from Katie on facebook:
Several months ago you posted something either here or on your blog about "Quick, get up", and God smacked it right on my heart. I have been driving in the car, been taking a shower, and have woken up in the middle of the night with the need to say "Quick, get up, David" out loud, and I do every time. I don't know if David feels that, but it has blessed me immensely. I love it when God calls me to pray specifically for something. Sorry it has taken me so long to mention it to you. I think that you are a special lady and I feel privileged to pray on your family's behalf.
That's all : ) Hope you are having a good day.

Read this post: Quick, Get Up. Now look back at David's Letter to me. David did feel Katie's prayer. David wrote: "he...was told to get up." Someone named Tim commented on that October post. He prayed David would see that the chains had already fallen off. You should read it. I don't know who he is. But I hope he reads my blog again and sees how God is answering his prayer for my brother. I am so thankful that God is into details.

God Didn't Do It

2009-02-15T18:57:00.000-08:00

"It's not God's fault," he said with a laugh that was sincere as anything I've heard him say. David happened to call the night I had gotten the letter and artwork. I was a heap of emotion. "How can you not be mad at the God who allowed this to happen? He didn't stop it," I say feeling a lump rise in my throat. To which David answered, "I can’t explain it. But if I am going to be angry for this, I would have to be angry at God for all the children starving in the world. God didn't do it. Anyway, that is what people who don’t believe say." I had to laugh. He’s right.

David continued, "That’s not what concerns me. I want to know the reason I am still alive when I didn't want to be. I’ve got to learn how to stop the cycle. Every time a tough thing happens to me, I do the same thing. I want to grow up." You are wondering how I have such an impeccable memory? I took notes. He started saying this stuff and I grabbed my notebook.

How does this happen? Why is the victim able to view this more rationally than the observer? I would propose that it is the work of the Holy Spirit. There is so much action happening just beyond our sight – a world of energy, healing and strength. We get so wrapped up in our temporal responsibilities that we sometimes forget the spiritual realm, the undercurrent of our lives.

God gives strength as need arises. Look closely at Isaiah 43:2:
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

We are going to walk through junk, struggle through some pretty deep waters. It might splash in our face and cause us to choke, but it will not fill our lungs and steal our life. God is not going to let it overtake us. God knew David was going to need a lot more grace than the average joe to handle what is coming to his mind these days. And I can’t explain it to you any other way. That is not my job anyway! My job, my joy today is to praise the Wonderful Counselor who is holding David’s head above the current. I am witnessing a healing for which I have petitioned God for 20 years. I am grateful that God gives grace as it’s needed.

David's Letter To Me

2009-02-11T17:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Cindy,
I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed our visit. It was so nice to see you and touch you. I love you so much and I can’t help feeling sorrow for not being a better brother to you. I know you say the same thing but I was non-existent and hollow. I truly want to make up for the time that I’ve wasted. My tattoo is dark in it’s imagery but light in it’s meaning. My inner child is the dummy. It is broken because I was molested. It is not hanging in the store front window with shiny new clothes on it because no one would want to buy those clothes. So he is alone, maybe in a storage closet. But broken as he is and being a dummy, he became alive and was told to get up. Someone raised him, told him he was loved and wanted. So he sat up. Unable to stand on his own two feet, he listens to God with a band-aid over his mouth because it is time to stop talking and start walking. Bruised but not broken.

Well, I made it through that without tearing up. I want you to put that with the picture on your blog as part of my healing. I got to know that I’m not hiding anymore. Will you do that for me?

Break the silence! I am not ashamed of who I am anymore. Prison has made me grow up in a way that was unexpected. But make no mistake; it was all God and His Holy Spirit that did the work. I’ve just been along for the ride. Well I guess I will close with that.

Your tatt’d up brother,
David

Jesus Died For THIS!

2009-02-09T18:05:00.000-08:00

I wanted to hold that little bent hand as I fell asleep Friday night. When I closed my eyes, I saw his picture. I had looked at it all day long. Lying there in the dark, I could still see his despondent eyes. I wanted to comfort him and hold his hand in mine. I reached down and held Jett’s little hand because he was the one laying beside me. I could not comfort the other little boy because he is not real. Praise God! That other little boy is being remade in the likeness of Christ.

Earlier that day I had received a large envelope in the mail. I had been anxiously checking the mail every day this week anticipating its arrival. You see, David had called me the day after I visited him in Reidsville State Prison. I was a little bit haunted by our conversation and the unfinished disclosure. I asked David if I could have the original artwork for his tattoo. He consented to mail it to me the next day if I would promise to take good care of it. He had said, “This is the most meaningful tattoo I have. You will notice the old mannequin is slumped over, but he’s not down. He’s beat up but he’s not broken.”

I was dressed to walk out the door with the kids when the mail truck pulled up with the much anticipated envelope. I opened it immediately upon entering the front door. There were several things enclosed. My fingers nervously rifled through the pages. It was the drawing I wanted to see first. I felt a pit in my stomach as I studied the details of a rather frightening piece of art. The torn and tattered appearance, the band-aid over the mouth, the hollow eyes were all taking my breath.

My hands were shaking as I began to read David’s letter. I sank to the floor as I read what I had suspected but hoped would not be true. I stopped at one word and yelled and cried and pounded the floor. But as I continued to read the letter, I discovered something that lifted me back up. Healing. David is being healed by the grace of God. How could he write this? How could he love a God who allowed this to happen? How could David be finding peace through admitting something he had tried to hide?

What I read brought more tears and laughter through choked sobs. My brother, who has covered his pain with drugs for 20 years, is experiencing the healing power of the Holy Spirit. We have prayed for this for years. Many times we came close to giving up. But something changed for me about six months ago. Every time I prayed for David, I was filled with hope. It wasn’t hard to pray for him anymore. It felt good and full of strength.

God in His mysterious way changed my prayers and he is changing David. My mom found a note she had put in her Bible during these six months asking God to set David free. This week she was looking at that note and discovered that she had gone back last month and written, “He IS free!” The handwriting is hers. But she has no recollection of writing that postscript to the original prayer. God answers us even when we are unaware. He is good!

In David’s letter he asked me to post the picture of his tattoo along with the letter he wrote to me. That is what I will be posting next. Please read it with awe in knowing that God can do anything. God wants to restore the broken. In the words of our dear friend Amy Bafford, “This is what Jesus died for!”

A Dummy

2009-02-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

I didn’t really get a good look. But I saw enough to surmise that it was not happy. “This is my inner child,” David told us. He slid his long-sleeved thermal shirt up his arm to reveal the most solemn tattoo I think I have ever seen. It looked like a small, lost boy, a child version of the tinman. David explained that it doesn’t represent the tinman: he didn’t have a heart. It is an old fashioned mannequin. A DUMMY. I was at a lost for words, so I didn’t say anything. Then I realized…

If he hadn’t wanted us to see it, he wouldn’t have pulled his sleeve up. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t have brought it up. If David didn’t want us to know that the tattoo on his upper arm held such meaning, he wouldn’t have said what he did…

“When I was a kid, I always felt so dumb. As far back as I can remember, I have felt unworthy.” and he started to cry. I have never seen David cry over his condition. I have seen him cry for making his family suffer. But I haven’t seen him cry for himself. Now if you know David, you know that he was anything but dumb. He was handsome and brimming with personality. In elementary he was #1 in the state for his age in racing BMX. He played guitar and drums really well. He could draw and surf and anything else he wanted to do. Everybody loved David; except David. We never saw signs of this until we found out he was getting high. I think he was 16 by then and drugs were tightening their grip, driving his will, further defining his self-image.

I can’t remember exactly what was said after that. But it was great; whatever it was. I do recall asking if he knew when he started feeling like a dummy and he said yes. I asked if he knew what had happened to bring on his feelings of worthlessness and he said yes. He assured us that he would tell us more one day. We continued to talk for four hours.

When I was finally alone after a four hour drive home, I cried harder than I can remember crying. I had a lot of questions for God. I was so angry. I was grieving for the little boy who I knew in my gut had been violated. Where had God been? The next morning God gave the gentlest answer to my emotional chaos. If you read Feb 1st entry for Streams in the Desert, you will understand. Five days later I would ask David how he isn’t angry at God. His answer humbled me. I will share that with you soon.

His Picture

2009-02-02T19:56:00.000-08:00

I want to see that picture today. Where did I put it? Think! Think! I walk around where I had it last, remembering I put it out of sight last time. I recall placing some old framed photographs in the back of the basement. Ah, I see it, peeking out from behind the others. I take it out and wipe the dust off the top.

How old is he in this picture? Seven I think. All looks well. So why can’t I look at this picture without having to glance away? Because I know something happened. I just don’t know what it was and I can’t help feeling that I could have stopped it. Oh, that is why I can’t look at the picture. I fear I let down that little boy in the frame. Will I ever know what happened? Will he ever know what happened?

Yesterday I sat in an overcrowded room of a state penitentiary and talked with my little brother over a Mountain Dew and vending machine sandwiches. This is the first time I have seen him in 9 months. The first time I could hug him in maybe two years. Strangely enough I didn’t think I would cry when he walked into view. And I didn’t. But when we hugged and my cheek rested against his cheek, and I felt the warmth of his skin, it was as if we were kids again. Only he’s taller than I now. Sorrow welled up in the shape of brimming tears. I’m sad for the years that have been stolen. I’m sad for the heartache and self-loathing he has endured. But I am happy for what God is revealing to David. It may very well change his life.

His picture is on my desk tonight. I can fix my gaze on his eyes a little longer now.

I will post more on this as I am able to put it on paper

Complacency

2009-01-25T10:51:00.000-08:00

That pile of leaves hides what's going on. Underneath I know there is a mess. But I don't even want to bother looking until the weather changes. Two years ago the herbs, flowers and butterflies were in abundance. Last year? Not so good. I did not clean out the signs of danger I saw creeping up in the spring. Summer's heat advanced and the vines and weeds crept through my flowers and I couldn't tell the good from the bad. Now I try to pull up one thing and it is so intertwined with another that I can't see what I am doing. I am not prepared and cannot uproot the bad junk by hand.

I see strongholds like vines. They are entangled and give strength to one another. It's hard to tell what's there. After years of growth, there is such a mess. God, please separate the roots. Pull them apart. Help us to see them for what they are. Identifying each variety is only the beginning. Mustering the strength to pull them out by the root must come next. Finally, we must prevent their return. Daily we stand over the garden of our soul and survey the ground for signs of reappearing strongholds.

Envision the beauty that spring can be. The surface of my heart, my marriage, my home will be like the surface of my flower garden, smooth and clean. Sunlight will filter in between the leaves and buds. It finds a place to land because the junk is gone. The warmth spreads giving life and growth to all it reaches. The ground is so clean we could easily spot new growth of unwanted vines. Will we be aware? Will we notice them before they choke out the colors of all that is good? The roots hidden in darkness must not be given the freedom to intertwine and choke out all we hold dear.

Where are these strongholds? Under dead leaves of complacency.

The Wall

2009-01-24T19:47:00.000-08:00

There are words everywhere. Words of comfort, words of promise, words of that offer strength. I stand transfixed to the words all over my bathroom wall. There are quotes from books and everyday people. I see truth from God's Word. All shimmering like gems that caught my attention on a dark day.

In desperation I have thrown all of my heart and what's left of my hope onto those walls. Some of the words are written in smooth, flowing letters. I was hope-ful that day. Other are written in mismatched script. I scribbled through tears as I stretched to reach an unmarked spot on the wall.

All those words were written as I stood on the stepstool of my faith. That step raised me to reach places I could not reach on my own. When I wonder where He is, I go back and read the wall.

My Argument

2009-01-18T11:02:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I get up from writing that last post and walk upstairs to loud craziness. I say, "Please get out of the kitchen so I can fix lunch!" I am not smiling. I am not doing all those things I so poetically typed out 10 minutes ago. Why do I have to be so human?? I start presenting my argument to God and it sounds something like this...

Well, that blissful, simple life was easy because I was ALONE...and on the other side of the world...and it was only for two weeks. I wasn't being interrupted. Heck, if anyone spoke to me on the street, I couldn't understand them anyway! God says, "That was a gift, a time to reset your priority clock." So back to Matthew 6 I go with God to work on my attitude. Just thought I'd post this in case anyone reads that last post and mistakenly thinks I have it all figured out.

It's So Simple

2009-01-18T09:15:00.000-08:00

Is it easier to trust God when you live simply? I would be willing to bet it is.

Last week I was enjoying the afternoon at the Laurel Ridge Farms. All the kids were occupied and I found myself alone. If I stood where the sun was shining, I could forget that it was freezing cold two steps to the left in the shade. I made a point to close my eyes, turn my head up and enjoy that moment. God quietly whispered, "You can always live like this if you want. You can find the sunny spot and step into it." He brought this picture to mind that you see here. This is my friend's apartment in China. For a week last summer, I helped her with her toddler and new baby. It was so simple. I did laundry on the balcony! Can you see the washer in the picture? Her dryer was on another balcony. When I stepped out there, I could see lots of other people doing life. It was easy to stand there and pray for the city as I observed people doing their own laundry, feeding babies, exercising, watching tv. I walked to the market alone and took in the sights around me. For a week I didn't think about anything stressful. Why bother? My problems and worries where on the other side of the world! (No, I am not talking about my family!) The following week I worked in the orphanage with Danny and Noah: get up, walk to work, play with kids, eat dinner, spend time with friends, go to sleep. It was simple and it was beautiful. Other than my annual silent retreats, I have never experienced that kind of mental rest.

So, I am soaking up the sun and the simple moment and God says, "Remember the simplicity you love and miss about being in China? I offer that here, but you don't seem interested." How do you expect me to recreate that? I ask. "Live in today," He says. "Remember Jesus' words in Matthew 6 that no one seems to take seriously? But seek ye first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

"Focus on something else...MY kingdom. Not yours." God is saying. "Stop focusing on what you don't have. Stop trying to figure out solutions for tomorrow's unknown. Live in today. Be present in the lives of the people I have put in front of you. Don't squander these precious things about today (kid produced puppet shows, endless questions, doing your laundry indoors). If you can grasp the beauty in that, and fully engage in today, you will understand what I mean in Matthew 6." Sounds pretty simple, doesn't it?

Under the Overpass

2009-01-05T20:27:00.000-08:00

What would you do during your day if you weren't concerned with what you wear, what you eat, or where you sleep...? This is the final question in Under the Overpass. Now my off the cuff answer would be, "I'm doing it. I'm homeschooling! I can wear my pajamas. We eat whatever we find in the fridge, and we may all pile in one room on any given night." But after reading this book, I find myself answering this question with a longing to change my world.

I originally picked up this book because David read it and told me how much it touched him. I can see why he connected with it. He has lived it. Since we volunteer a little at Safehouse, I found the subject matter intriguing. What I wasn't expecting is the inventory this book compelled me to take of my life and my motives. There is quite a bit of insight and cause to reflect sprinkled in with Yankoski's experience on the street. I loved Sugar Man. My brother identified with him!

Here are a couple of quotes I loved:
Something critical is missing in places that care for the broken and needy if the only people there are also broken and needy. Without the presence of people in rescue missions whose lives are not defined by addiction, alcoholism, crime and mental illness, there is little positive influence. Chaplains and pastors can only spread themselves so far.

If we are the body of Christ...we need to be fully present in the places where people are most broken.

Trust means something different when you don't feel in control.

Lacking nothing numbs and blinds the human spirit. It can separate us from our calling...

That last quote got me. How does my stuff separate me from my calling? On a daily basis, cleaning our stuff, organizing our stuff, picking up our stuff can steal valuable time from my homeschooling focus. But how about my vision for our family of helping others and changing the world? My cozy house, shelves of books, piles of quilting fabric, mean more to me than I would care to admit. The author makes a compelling statement about putting too much emphasis on comfort. The more I think I need to be comfortable and relax, the less likely I am to step out of my comfort and into the uncomfortable situation of being the hands and feet of Christ. I closed the book and immediately handed it to my husband saying, "Read fast. Three other people are waiting for their turn."

Streams in 2009

2009-01-01T19:52:00.001-08:00

Remember that recent post I finished with..."When I put it like that, how could I ask Him to stop"? I have to admit, I was really hoping to see a shift in circumstances when I wrote that. I had been secretly planning to hand over my copy of Streams in the Desert to someone else in need. Well, guess what I read today...because I had to??? Yeah! And it will prove to be as tangible in '09 as it was in '08.

Mrs. Cowan opens with Deuteronomy 11:11 and 12. I love these of words of scripture; "the land...you are to take possession of...drinks rain from heaven." I love it because that is what I am learning to do. I can't get what I need in my own strength. God is teaching me the beauty and necessity of solitude wherein I can receive my supply from heaven.

I'll share the beginning with you here. "Today we stand at the threshhold of the unknown. Before us lies a new year and we are going forward to take possession of it. Who knows what we will find? Or what new experiences or changes will come our way? What new needs will arise? Inspite of the uncertainty before us, we have a cheerful and comforting message from our Heavenly Father..."The Lord your God cares for it, the eyes of the Lord ...are continually on it from the beginning of the year to its end." No wonder I have been happy with anticipation today. God knows what my year holds. His eyes are already seeing what I am waiting to get a glimpse of.

Tonight I was reading the blog of someone I have been praying for. She posted the complete entry from Streams in the Desert today. It is here if you would like to read it. Thought it was cool to see someone else being strengthened by this today.

Happy 2009

2009-01-01T18:50:00.000-08:00

Making lists I will loose. Reading four totally different books at the same time. Deciding at 10pm to paint a room. These are a few of my favorite things. I call myself unorganized. Beth calls me a dabbler. I like that. I have embraced that persona ever since it reached my ears. "Yes," I thought, "I am a dabbler!" Sure sounds better than starter of many projects, finisher of few. But what do you do when you love eclectic and modern? Clutter and cleanliness? Quilting over vacuuming? Heck, I can't even pick a favorite color and stick to it!

In 2009 this dabbler will try to hone in on a few choice resolutions. Of course, I cannot tell you what they are. I would then be accountable for my actions and called on the carpet for dabbling. Mitzi, I am hoping you are reading this and formulating a plan of action for my inconsistent behavior!!

Last night we had s0me friends over for New Year's Eve. We each wrote down something we hope to see God do in 2009. My intent is that the person taking home a request will pray for that individual throughout the coming year. Even though I knew I was going to spring this on our guests, I had a hard time figuring out what I would write on my own 3x5 card. "But of course," you are saying..."you can't even figure out what book you want to read this month!" And you are right. I want to see God do so many things that I cannot seem to narrow it down to just one request. I've been in my pajamas all day, so I have taken some time to reflect on '08 and ponder '09. Here is what I came up with. So, if you happened to have drawn my card last night, you got alot more to pray about!

I want to speak positively about myself and to my children and husband.
Encourage our children to develop their own daily Bible reading habit.
Organize my time, our house and our homeschool day.
Recognize the needs of others and respond like Christ.
I want to pray with passion, believing the One who listens will act.
Consciously put myself in a position to hear God daily.

When I inventory my life, these are things that are important to me. But I am compelled to ask God to narrow my focus, show me what He wants for me this year. I don't think He expects me to do all these things perfectly just because it is a brand new year at my spot on the globe. He wants more for me than I even want for myself. God knows what's coming in 2009. So I want Him to turn my attention; make His concerns my concerns . May I remember to get up each morning and say, “Here is a brand new day, a blank page. God, what do you want me to do with it?"

The 12 Days of Christmas

2008-12-28T12:34:00.000-08:00

Today is the third day of Christmas. Traditionally, the 12 days of Christmas begins on December 26th with the Feast of Stephen (a day to commemorate the martyrdom of Stephen). The season ends on January 6th with Epiphany or Three Kings Day. That is why some people keep their decorations up after New Year's Day.

Our family enjoys acknowledging this tradition for several reasons. For one, we are easing our way out of Christmas instead of rejoining the rat race the day after Christmas. This is when we make cookies, finish craft projects we intended to give as gifts, play games and watch movies together, stay in our pajamas for a couple days. It is another opportunity to focus on Christ with scripture readings about His revelation to all people. Most of the Advent scripture reading focuses on Jesus fulfilling Jewish prophecy. Epiphany is the celebration of God revealing Himself to the Gentiles as commemorated by the Kings from the East acknowledging the lordship of Jesus.

So, feel free to leave up your decorations, ponder the significance of Christ's birth a little longer and keep eating Christmas cookies. You have 9 more days!

Reflection on the Shepherd's Candle

2008-12-28T12:23:00.001-08:00

Have you noticed that when God shows up, it's usually so understated? And the way He enters the scene is quiet. And the people He chooses to work through are simple. When he is working on my behalf, no one else sees the way he slips into my circumstance. I can be wailing over the trouble at my back door and His Spirit passes through the front door with such subtly that I could miss it. But something, the fragrance, the warmth, something ensures that I turn my attention from what concerns me to what concerns Him.

The Ancient of Days has been trying to turn mankind's attention for centuries. What might it be like if we recognized Him at the first sign of His Presence? Would we not perceive that what concerns Him IS what concerns us? Maybe that is what He had in mind with the display of wonder to the shepherds on the outskirts of Bethlehem. Instead of the military power the general population craved, He lit up the sky for a few ordinary individuals. If God had done it just a little closer to town, hundreds would have seen that display and would have believed the baby born in obscurity was the Son of God. Why show up where so few were gathered? Why not announce the Messiah to someone with more influence, more clout?

I am as ordinary as one of those shepherds. I doubt like Zechariah. I worry about what people think like Joseph. But I also ponder being chosen like Mary. We share these human characteristics with the people we immortalize in the Christmas story. Yet each one was as ordinary as you and I. Each one was chosen as a vessel through which God could reveal Himself to a world longing for rescue. You and I are the vessels of today. It's not likely that people will read about us centuries from now as they gather around lighted candles. But it is likely that a child will see his worth to God because he understood his worth to you. It is likely a little girl will grow up to choose motherhood because of the influence my choice will have on her. A young woman may choose life because the value she sees you place on your own child. A young man may share with those in need because he saw you give sacrificially. A young person may choose their spouse carefully because they want a marriage like yours.

So that is what I see in the flicker of the Shepherd's candle. Ordinary people who are at home in the hands of God, become the fire that ignites passion in someone else.

The Angel's Candle

2008-12-21T21:14:00.001-08:00

I am running behind on these Advent posts. But I generally don't have my thoughts formulated til after we have reflected on the week's readings. Week three focuses on the announcements made by the angels. There was the announcement of the end of infertility to Zechariah, the glorious one to Mary, the reassuring one to Joseph and of course the multitude of angels appearing to the shepherds. There's a really great perspective on Zechariah in Watch For the Light. It's the December 13th reading, written by Karl Barth.

Our family discussion this week centered around how our lives announce Christ to the people around us. We are the hands and feet of Jesus to each other, to the children in need with whom we shared our gifts with this year, and everybody inbetween. We reminded each other that we even announce Christ to those we don't know who observe how we treat each other in public. Do we show kindness in our speech and actions? Are we helpful to one another or annoyed by interruptions?

My hope is that we are loving and patient. My desire is that we will portray family life as the treasure it is. May the end result be our tiny group of six announcing to the world that the love of Christ is a tangible thing.

The Treasures of Darkness

2008-12-16T21:32:00.000-08:00

What circumstance in your life right now would you trade if given the chance? I read something in Streams in the Desert this week that caused me to reflect on recent hardship with gratitude. It was about lace spinners in Brussels working in the dark, alone in tiny rooms with only a narrow window to cast light directly on the pattern they are weaving. The beauty and value of the art comes from the darkness in which it was created.

"Sometimes the darkness in our lives is worse, because we cannot even see the web we are weaving or understand what we are doing. Therefore we are unable to see any beauty or any possible good arising from our experience. Yet if we are faithful to forge ahead and we do not give up, someday we will know that the most exquisite work of our lives was done during those days when it was the darkest." Cowman

This month marks one year Danny and I have been on a tough financial journey. We are still on that train, so I can't wax eloquent about how we did it. We are doing it. I can't believe I am saying this, but I wouldn't trade this past year. Oh, there have been dark days. But we are not totally in the dark. God has allowed us glimpses into how He desires to shape us into people He can use. What God is teaching us about Himself, ourselves, money, faith, holding on, I don't think could have been learned any other way. This has been a year of rapid growth. It's like what Job said, "My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you." We may have another year of it. I hope not. But in light of how we have learned to lean, wait and abide; how our kids now view God's faithfulness, the miracles they have observed weekly; I can't really do anything but continue to trust God's purpose in all this.

There are days I beg God for relief. He either brings it physically or he carries my spirit above it. But he has not forsaken me. So I don't think trading the path we have walked this year for one with less thorns and potholes would be a fair trade. We are in the middle of something BIG.

Isaiah 45:3
I will give you the treasures of darkness,
riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the Lord,
the God of Israel, who summons you by name.

I cannot count how many times this year I have read a passage like this and God has illuminated it right before my eyes. All around me may seem dark, but a tiny crack of trust lets in just enough insight to see with spiritual eyes. Why does God do that?? Why does He go to such lengths to make sure I get it? Because He loves me and he doesn't want me to miss what he is doing in my life. He has something wonderful for us that we have not yet been allowed to see. Why does he hide it away, while we go about our work in the dark? So that when He reveals the blessings along the path, we will will know HE IS THE LORD! This is all about him. It is not about us. It may feel like it is all about us when we are crying and fretting over earthly matters. But every time we calm down enough to dig into His Word we are reminded that we are here for His glory. And if there is one thing my family is learning this year, it is how to sit back and let God make Himself known in us. Wow! When I put it like that, how could I ask Him to stop?

The Second Light of Advent

2008-12-12T07:08:00.000-08:00

Preparation. It isn't all that necessary to my modern day survival. If I am not prepared with dinner, I can drive a mile and find a variety of choices to feed my family. If I am not prepared for Christmas, some store will be open at the last minute. Being ill prepared for physical life naturally spills over into how prepared I am in the spiritual realm. However, a quick fix is not so readily available.

The focus of the Bethlehem Candle is preparation. Am I prepared for Christ to show up in my life? Am I in a place to hear Him when he does? Will I notice His power when it is being displayed? Even with ancient prophecies that were widely known, the people of Bethlehem were not ready for the birth of Christ. Jesus showed up in their city unnoticed. Even with that huge, bright star glaring overhead, people went about their daily business with no regard to the truth illuminating their streets. What truth or insight alludes me when I am wrapped up in things that don't really matter?

How marvelous are those times we take notice of what the Creator of the Universe is up to all around us? Isn't it great when God allows truth to illuminate the cracks in our heart? Sometimes we position ourselves to hear him. Sometimes pain and suffering have to run their course for us to recognize God's presence. When it appears our life has fallen apart, His light shines on the scattered pieces He wants to sweep up and piece back together. The end result is a heart more alive and responsive to His grace than what we started with.

Are we prepared for that kind of salvation? Or, like so many 2000 years ago, will we miss God showing up in our lives because it doesn't look like we think it should?

Christmas Fun

2008-12-10T07:26:00.001-08:00

It seems Dove is the only one willing to trudge through the mud and cold. Today she had a horse back riding lesson. None of the other kids wanted to go with us. So we made a day of it. After the horse fun, she rinsed the hoof cleaning grim off her hands and we stopped at the outlet mall. Apparently Dovie is as spur of the moment as I am. She wanted to get her ears pierced. So we did! Can you see her sparkly addition?

Then Pottery Barn made my day with this clearance West Elm silver tree. Yahoo! Now I have to figure out how to make the felted wool ornaments I saw in Holiday Crafts 2008.

Look at sweet Jett in this polar bear sweater and hat duo! Couldn't resist bringing this home for him. He loves new clothes as much as his Poppy.

Gingerbread

2008-12-10T06:49:00.000-08:00

Here are our Gingerbread creations. Not quite the edible delicacies that Chad creates. But beautiful none the less. Every year our homeschool group gathers to construct one-of-a-kind houses. This year I did a little preplanning with google. Promise and I created the creche and Noah and Dove built our vacation home. I still want to make the candy cane sled before the kids or the cats eat our handiwork!

Concert in the Cul-de-sac

2008-12-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

Saturday was such a blast! The band did a great job on their Christmas music. Chick-Fil-A brought food. The Ariases went above and beyond normal hospitality to allow more than 100 people to run through their yard. I saw people I hadn't seen in years. Holley May and Janice Givens were there. The Wilsons and the Fountains drove a long way to see Noah. Aunt Denise and Cousins Joshua and Jessica drove down from Columbus just for the show. Thank you to everyone who came to be a part of concert in the cul-de-sac. I think this needs to be a Christmas tradition!

Who did you see there?

Fear or Love

2008-12-05T21:16:00.000-08:00

I have been pondering this post from Candy since the day I first read it. Take a look at it. It is worth the read. I couldn't get past the thought that someone needs to hear that I am not afraid of their addictions, their struggles, their issues. My brother, who is in prison because of addiction, has struggles and issues and no one to listen. I have been afraid of these things. Afraid I won't have answers for him, afraid I will blame myself for not looking after him better when we were young, afraid that I can't fix him. I am afraid of his pain. Looking back at those sentences, I see how many times I say "I." But those things aren't mine to carry. And his story is not about me. Only the scarred hands of Jesus are equipped to hold that stuff. I am just supposed to be the love. That is it. Love. So I can remain immobilized by my fear or I can reach out to him right smack in the middle of his.

How many people cross our path waiting for us to love them? If we don't love, they might look for someone else. But what if they don't look? What if they give up? Let's be a part of the movement! Who do you need to love?

This poem is by George MacDonald:

I said, Let me walk in the field;
God said, No, walk in the town;
I said, There are no flowers there;
He said, No flowers but a crown.

I said, But the sky is black,
There is nothing but noise and din;
But he wept as he sent me back,
There is more, he said, there is sin.

I said, But the air is thick,
And smog is veiling the sun;
He answered, Yet souls are sick,
And your work is yet undone.

I said, I will miss the light,
And friends will miss me, they say;
He answered me, Choose tonight,
If I am to miss you, or they.

I pleaded for time to be given;
He said, Is it hard to decide?
It will not seem hard in Heaven
To have followed the steps of your Guide.

I cast one look at the field,
Then set my face to the town;
He said, My child do you yield?
Will you leave the flowers for the crown?

Then into His hand went mine,
And into my heart came He;
And I walk in a light Divine,
The path I had feared to see.

Do You Like My Hat?

2008-12-05T20:21:00.000-08:00

I have worked on this tree topper all day. Everytime I got one pick secured, another one would fall out. I sent everyone out of the room so I could concentrate. At last it was stable. Danny walked in and said, "Do you like my hat?" And of course, I laughed and in Suess fashion said, "I do. I like it. I like that hat. I like that party hat."

Silly or not, I like it. The hat stays!

The First Light of Advent

2008-12-03T05:43:00.000-08:00

The glow from the single purple candle fills us with anticipation as we sit around the table together to begin this year's Advent journey. This first light represents Prophecy - such a mysterious concept. The Bible is rich with prophetic words about the coming of Christ that the world largely misses. When you explore the prophecies concerning Jesus with your children, you are opening their minds and hearts to why Christmas is important. I believe we influence how they will experience Christmas for the rest of their lives.

Isaiah 7:14 and 9:2, 6-7 tell us of God's promise of a savior. Matthew 1:21-23 tells us that the promise was fulfilled and his name is Jesus. This is a great place to start. There are so many resources online for Advent readings. Over the years we have collected ideas from different books and websites. There are so many. Don't get overwhelmed trying to do everything that looks good. Here are some of our favorites:

1.Books by Arnold Ytreeide. There are three in this series. We rotate each year. The chapters are very adventurous stories meant to be read each night. Each ends leaving the kids eager to hear more.

2. A schedule of nightly scripture reading/Christmas songs for each week of Advent. The one I use was printed from the Focus on the Family website years ago. It's not available now. But google a few til you find one you like.

3. Christmas cards: Hang up the cards you receive or put them in a special basket. Each night pray for one of the families from whom you received a card.

4. Books like Redeeming the Season and Before and After Christmas give great craft and giving ideas: make a nativity, gingerbread stable, garland, etc.

There are so many great books and resources. What are some of your favorites?

Enter Advent

2008-12-01T06:01:00.000-08:00

Advent - preparing for the coming of Christ. This is a simple way to introduce family time into your home. Celebrating Advent is one of our favorite family activities. We started doing this several years ago and it has transformed our Christmas experience. For one, Christmas doesn't seem to appear before you know it and be gone. The whole month of December becomes a celebration as we put computers, television and busyness at bay while we learn what it means to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christmas day.

The clip below introducing Advent Conspiracy is a must see. Did you realize we spend 450 billion dollars a year on Christmas? Let's face it, wouldn't our kids rather spend time playing a board game and making cookies WITH US than being pulled around from store to store as we get irritated by the crowds and traffic? I'm not saying we shouldn't buy gifts. As a family we are asking how much of the spending and busyness is necessary. How much is too much? Take a look at this video and decide for yourself.

I will be posting weekly sharing ways our family enters the four weeks of Advent. So please keep checking in. Please share your ideas with me. Are you blogging about Advent? If so, link to me.

It's Snowing

2008-12-01T05:57:00.000-08:00

All that talk last night about needing fake snow and what do I wake up to today? Snow! Big chunks are actually falling. The kids are freaking out. But it probably won't stick. However, when we see flurries in Georgia, everything shuts down. So this should be a fun day.

O Christmas Tree

2008-11-30T20:49:00.000-08:00

I usually don't wait this late in the season to put up our Christmas tree. But having a real tree means I have to wait til Pikes starts blowing the fake snow. Here we are with our tree. It's the one to the right. I love going to Pikes during the Christmas season. All those trees crammed into the greenhouse! Ah, the smell is divine. It is my favorite earthy smell. Ranks right above horse manure. Yeah, I know it's poop. But I love the smell of being on a farm.

Anyway, I enjoy wandering through the mass of trees, checking all sides of each flocked tree before we pick one. The kids like meandering through the rows and rows of trees. The boy working that day really wanted us to just pick a tree. I really wanted him to leave us alone. Finally we all agreed we had chosen the perfect tree. But we couldn't take it home because of the rain. The fake snow would fall off. Since that is all the snow we are likely to get in Georgia, I don't want to mess it up. We left without our tree. It was sad. Like picking out a puppy at the pound only to find out you can't take him home til he gets his shots. Yeah, I know I take this a little too seriously. But it's fun. And since I get to be the mom, there are a few things I take the liberty of being a little nutty about...like riding the Pink Pig, driving around to look at Christmas lights, watching all the old Christmas movies and, yes, the smell of horse poop.

Hope your Christmas season is off to a fun start!

Back in the Saddle

2008-11-17T20:39:00.000-08:00

This is Laurel Ridge Farms and one of the many reasons I love homeschooling! Today the kids and I loaded up the car and Noah read our history lesson as we drove to the country. Dovie had a horseback riding lesson with Rebecca. This was a birthday gift from her grandparents. She has waited a year and a half to do this. Dovie loves Rebecca, the owner and her instructor at Laurel Ridge Farms. Before the lesson was over, the farrier made a house call. It was akin to Little House on the Prairie as he lifted open the sides of his trailer and set out his anvil. We had a chance to learn something unique as he worked the horses' hooves. It was a great day.

Fun with Books

2008-11-16T05:42:00.000-08:00

Amy has something fun posted today. I love reading and I know lots of you do. She shares a great resource for keeping up with what you have read/what you want to read. Check out Good Reads. When looking for a good book, this would be a great way to see suggestions on what friends are reading.

So here is the idea Amy shared for something different for today:

Grab the nearest book.
* open the book to page 56.
* find the fifth sentence.
* post the text of the next two to five sentences in your blog along with these instructions.
* don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.

The closest book to me right now is Time Management: Leadership Skills for Women by Debbie Lloyd. Nowadays you can't find this book ANYWHERE! But it is the most helpful book on this topic I have ever read. I recently took it off the shelf because I need a little inspiration. So let's see what is on page 56...

If you struggle with procrastination, you are not alone. How often have we echoed the Apostle Paul’s apparent self-reproach as he wrote to the Romans, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do” (Romans 7:15). We cannot easily transform the bad habits of procrastination that took years to acquire. But by thoughtful analysis of the reasons for our postponing we can alter our attitude toward the problem. And changed attitudes become a springboard for modified behavior. We procrastinators with good intentions would do well to adhere to the challenge of Paul in another letter: “On with it, then, and finish the job! Be as eager to finish it as you were to plan it.” 2 Corinthians 8:11

Ugh! I love starting projects. I love getting just far enough to see that my idea works. Then I am ready for something new. Guess it's a good thing I didn't look at marriage that way!

You Are My Sunshine

2008-11-15T06:24:00.000-08:00

Autumn sunshine makes whatever nature is wearing look good. I am spellbound by the November sun streaking through the leaves, casting its glow on all it touches. This week I realized why I love its golden glow so. All of my children have been born in fall. Well, slightly later for Noah. I love being pregnant. In this season, I recall contemplating how my life, our home, the world would be changed by the new life about to emerge.

When nature slows down this time of year, I do too. Fall has become a time of reflection and anticipation. It’s when annually I pick up my nature journal and actually consider adding something to it. I look for just the right book to guide me to the place my mind is longing to go. This month it will be something by Louisa May Alcott. I wrote a poem last year in my attempt to capture my thoughts.

Today I am captivated by another fall beauty. Dove. She turned 8 this week, November 13th. She is that unique golden sun of autumn. She casts her glow on all she touches. She loves good and true and unconditionally. Her forgiveness humbles me. Her passion for trying new things inspires me. Like the rays of the sun that dance about and shine beauty on the landscape, Dove brings joy and laughter to our family . Happy Birthday Sunshine!

Little Things

2008-11-11T20:39:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I loved receiving little trinkets; gifts from my mom or dad. I found more pleasure in the little things than big, elaborate items. I feel that way about God's gifts too. The little things are so personal. When God meets a need or teaches me something that may seem insignificant to onlookers, I feel especially loved. Kind of like he is saying, Nobody else notices that this is important to you. But I do.

Right now God is teaching me that I can't out give him. Let me give you two examples. Last week we mailed $40 cash to a friend who needed gas money. Two days later $230 cash showed up in a letter mailed to us. No clue who sent it. It was postmarked from a city where I know not a soul. Today I slipped $20 into the purse of a friend I knew had a need. No kidding, 10 minutes later, another friend handed me a bag with brand new dresses and shirts for each of my girls!

God is saying, See there? You give when I say give and someone else might just be doing the same thing. Now I know we don't give so that we can get something. And God doesn't always give such quick returns. But today he is reinforcing a lesson that he has been teaching me this year about the purpose of money.

Details

2008-11-10T22:35:00.000-08:00

Today my little China pearl is 8 years old. On November 10, 2000, I was unaware that she was entering the world. Oh, I knew I had a daughter in China. But I did not know the details. Today I have the privilege of knowing all the details of her precious life. I get to see her drawings and receive her hugs. I get to hold her hand when she crosses the street and kiss her when she skins her knee. I marvel at her ability to keep up with things and organize the pantry; I can't even do that. Details are wonderful things.

I can't help but hurt for the woman who felt PJ enter the world. Surely she must remember this day too...wondering about the details. Oh, if she could see this picture, wouldn't her heart soar with pride? Break with passion? Long to hold the hand I am so blessed to hold? May God grant her the peace that passes understanding...and not knowing details.

Abundance

2008-11-10T22:28:00.000-08:00

Funny how you can pray for something for years like a flat stomach or a big bag of cash and it never comes. Yet you can pray for something really small like a heart change and God answers right away. Why is that? Oh sure, the pure heart lasts a lot longer than the money bag. But isn’t it funny how God knows what we need and when? It’s like he gives us a hint what to ask for because he knows he is about to give it to us anyway. We’ve got to have it to grow.

I have been asking God to help me tame my tongue. Why do I inevitably drift to the negative side of the pond? If I love and adore my family the way I profess, how can I be so quickly irritated by their humanness? The last few days I have been asking God (again) how to beat it.

For years when I read “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” I just assumed this meant that the mouth speaks the truth that is in my heart. If I say I love my kids yet cannot be patient with them in all things, I don’t love them enough; love is not in my heart. Right? No! This is impossible for me to accept. I know I love my family. Thus I am left unable to glean any concise guidance from that verse.

But today it happened. It was like that moment when you’re focusing the binoculars and you think, “Wait. Go back. There it was. I saw it.” I saw what I have missed all those times I have quoted that verse and questioned my love and devotion. “Out of the ABUNDANCE of the heart the mouth speaks.” Not out of truth – abundance.

I am studying the Spiritual Formation Workbook with some friends. My moment of enlightenment came when I read, “Pray for the Holy Spirit to purify your hear and mind. Then listen.” It was automatic! I asked. I listened. And I heard...My heart needs purifying. Then I recalled the Bible verse about what I say revealing what is in my heart and I realized….It’s not that my love for my family isn’t sincere. It’s that other junk is in my heart getting in the way of love. I am abundant in something not so nice and my heart needs purifying.

Now Matthew 15:11 makes more sense. It’s not what goes into my mouth that makes me unclean. It’s what comes out. I can have all the love in the world. I can feel it, see it, touch it. But then I can open my mouth and negate it. Ahhh! Now I have something I can work with.

Apple Orchard

2008-11-02T15:51:00.000-08:00

My favorite thing about where we live is being so close to the country. I can jump in my car and drive two miles to get fresh eggs before the kids even wake up. Monday we drove less than an hour to pick apples and get fresh cider. The drive was beautiful. It was just Noah, Dove and me. Danny was working and the other two were sick. Although I will go back so Jett and Promise can pick apples, it was fun to have the other two all to myself. Isn't it interesting how the dynamic changes when you change up the parent/child ratio? Here are some pictures from our day in Elijay.

Stirring

2008-11-02T15:43:00.001-08:00

You know that feeling you get when God stirs your hear about something but he doesn’t reveal the whole picture? I have felt that lately about serving. I have written about serving in my own family. I have linked to some cool people serving in the ATL. I have listened to my friend who serves locally and is about to take that global. When Danny had that amazing experience at Safehouse and came home in awe of what he had just seen, I felt a little jealous that I was home with the kids while he worshipped with a hungry crowd. God reminded me that my hungry crowd is below the age of 12! Yes, I get out of the house plenty. But my point is that right now my first ministry is to meet the needs of this family I so desperately asked God to give me.

Yet God is stirring my heart about ministry. I don’t know exactly what it is. But I can tell it is something specific. I know there will be opportunities in which I will be able to serve with our kids. After all, as a mom I feel that the point of much of my service to them is to teach them how to serve others. But another facet of service is to teach me how to love. And there are billions of people out there who need some.

So I don’t know what God has in store for me. But these are the thoughts I was having when I started that last post. It just got really long and I never got around to addressing the stirring that inspired it.

I Was Made for This

2008-10-30T20:56:00.000-07:00

When I was 10 years old I did a book report on child abuse. I can still see the cover of the Dale Evans Rogers book I found in my parents’ basement. Reading that book drew me into a reality of which I had no prior knowledge. I was disturbed by what I learned on those pages. But I can pinpoint that moment as the first time I felt love for the forgotten. As I grew older and discovered Isaiah 61:1, I knew God wanted me to be a voice for someone who had none. I remember hearing Bob Pierce’s quote, “Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God,” and thinking, “YES! That is what it’s all about!”

I wish I’d had the wisdom at a young age to lay my life before God and allow him to mold that passion. But being the control freak that I am, I conjured up ideas of how I would serve God. I dreamed that I would rescue runaways off city streets. I read everything I could find on Covenant House and even went to tour their facility in NYC after college. I can still remember stepping out of the taxi alone on the street corner and feeling like I was on holy ground. I never rescued the first runaway. But my (by that time) 15 year old passion led me to volunteer at Safehouse . I met a woman in Cabbage Town and helped her with inner city kids for a couple of years. I was involved there until I started having children. Then I felt my mission field changing.

Over the years, my passion for the forgotten of this world has grown. But it looks different as the seasons of my life change. When I did finally lay my life before God and take my hands off, he revealed just how he wanted me to serve him. That revelation came as I was being rolled out of a recovery room…holding the most perfect eight pounds of human flesh I’d ever seen. I will never forget the words that flooded my heart the first time I touched Noah. “I was made for this.” I felt the weight of those words all the way down to my toes. Yes, even with the epidural!! When his little cheek touched mine, nothing else in the world mattered. As they rolled me down the hall, I said to Danny, “I want 4 of these!”

It took me four years to have another baby. I remember feeling so angry with God. “Why did you give me this passion then refuse me more children?” I’d ask. Little did I know he was peeling back a layer of my heart to allow me to feel love through adoption. And God, in his wisdom and sense of humor, gave us another birth child as we were adopting. After completing all the paperwork to adopt from China, we became pregnant. Now we have daughters who are three days apart in age. Then another four years later, we were blessed with another birth, another boy. So I have my four. Why didn’t I say I wanted six kids that day??? God did come through. He gave me exactly what I asked for, just not the way I expected. And you know what? It’s better this way. They are all perfect. In retrospect, the timing was perfect. I wouldn’t trade the infertility issues for anything because they shaped the family we have.

A big part of my heart is in China. Other than my home, that is where I serve these days. Since I am a homeschool mom, that service has been only once a year. But God is teaching me to serve through intercession. I have a lot to learn. This requires focus and humility and anonymity. But so does being a stay-at-home mom! I really don’t think there exists a more trying job in the whole world. But when I am honest with myself, I would not trade it for any other job I could choose. Sometimes I think of other things I would like to do. And I always land on the realization that those things can be done later. God will open doors for me to serve in different areas as my kids get older. He has opened the Safehouse door for Danny and One Atlanta. When I read blogs like Drew’s and Alicia’s, I think, “I want to be involved in that too.” But I hear God saying, “In time. You are right where I want you for today.” I am a dabbler. So that is hard to hear. I want to stretch myself thin. I want too much on my plate. But every time I do it, I crash. I hear God saying, “Please let me direct this scene. Please trust me and focus on the task in front of you.” God hasn't placed so many passions on my heart for nothing. And I trust he will open doors for me to serve when the time is right.

So when I think back to the day I read that book as a 10 year old and God stirred compassion in my soul, I see that his plan was for me to raise children to know who he is and what he is all about; to instill compassion in young hearts. And if you think about it, isn’t that what everybody needs to make sense of this life and be effective in this world?

The Value of the Vision

2008-10-25T06:07:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the value vision has on my everyday life. How does it affect what I do sun-up to sun-down? Like I said yesterday, some days I see it very clearly. But other days I ask, Have I veered from the center and shifted my focus to temporal things? I often don't realize how far off track I have gotten until I am skidding on gravel. My eyes get big, my hands sweat as I grip the wheel tightly to gain control.

So how do I stay focused on an eternal perspective? Probably the first thing is to quit trying to grab the wheel! God has never failed to guide me back to his path when I've asked. That is where the Presence comes in. His Presence is my center. When I am there, I receive direction, encouragement, peace. But I live in a culture that changes the signs, reminds me what I am not, laughs at my pursuit of peace. So it is vital that I seek his Presence like I seek for my kids when they have gotten out of sight at a state park. I am frantic. I don't breathe til I know they are close.

When I am in that place, the vision is crystal clear. I am reminded how and whom I am to serve. The world around me is never going to tell me that. L.B. Cowman says the value of the vision is that it equips me for service and endurance. And that is exactly what I talked about yesterday.

Everyday Life

2008-10-23T06:29:00.001-07:00

My heart has felt as dry and crunchy as the leaves in my October backyard. Busyness is my enemy. When creativity and a sense of calm are beyond my reach, I can usually lift up the blanket of a busy schedule and see them cowering beneath. I recognize their expression because it is my own. "Let me out," they chant, "I have something to say."

I just read a book on writing. Although I find the author intriguing and her advice on writing insightful, it seems to have incapacitated me. I read this stuff and immediately bucked up with, "I can't do that. I don't write that way. I will fail." But something in Streams in the Desert stirred my heart and pointed me to Exodus 3:1-2..."The vision of the Angel of the Lord came to Moses while he was involved in his everyday work. That is exactly where the Lord delights in giving His revelations."

This intrigues me because Moses' job at the time was keeping up with smelly sheep for his father-in-law. What career could be less appealing? Yet the Creator of this universe found Moses out there among the herds and revealed His plan for Moses' life.

I read this on a day I am feeling completely unorganized and utterly behind. There are moments I soar...moments when I grasp the investment of homeschooling, kitchen duties, eye to eye contact with little people. On those days I sense that my life is not the sum total of my chores, but the fine print. When I put on my glasses to better see that fine print, I am reminded of the vision God gave us for our family 12 years ago when I was pregnant with our first child. I am reminded that God has allowed Danny and I to structure our lives around that vision and I am grateful. This also inspires me to put myself in a position of listening.

The promises and revelations God gives become vital to staying on course. I need those periodic refreshers. If you have chosen the career of stay-at-home mom or homeschooler, you know what I mean. On the outside we don't come off as spectacular. Most of our days look the same. So what we are feeding our soul daily becomes the very fuel with which we carry out our calling. When God reveals something to me, the purpose of that vision is very often to equip me for the service I am called to. Service! That is what it boils down to. And that is why some days are more difficult than others. Serving is an invisible supporting role. I don't know about you, but that is not easy for me. I want to do things now, see results now. Action! I like action. It makes me feel useful and worthy.

God has to remind me that my worth is not in what I do, but in who He is. And when that sinks in, I can live with my lack of productivity on a given day. What God calls productive on those days is how I have shown my kids we deal with schedule changes or unforeseen interruptions. Do I huff and puff and rush them along? Or do I have a servant's heart?

The world will keep going, busyness will grab me again, and I will have to be reminded of all this. That is okay. God doesn't seem to mind filling me with new inspiration on the days I need it. I am grateful He shows up in everyday life.

Love Hurts

2008-10-15T18:47:00.000-07:00

Well, here it is. I love it. My family loves it. David is going to love it. But I have to say it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt! It still hurts. But it should be better in a day or two.

Quick, Get Up!

2008-10-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I asked God to give me a vision of my brother's spirit. I wanted to pray more effectively for him and I felt I needed to see what I could not SEE. As sure as I asked, God showed me something. What I saw was David bound to a wall with chains. The atmosphere was dark and he sat in filth. As I write this, I am recalling that his head was hung in shame.

It was two decades ago that David pledged his allegiance to his own destruction. He couldn't have known that first time that he would be sitting in prison one day unaware of his own worth. Year after year it seems nothing is changing. He repeats the same actions, returns to same filth and sadly he sinks deeper into the shame. In his eyes, these things define him. But I know they don't. As the years fade away, so do the people who believe in him. I can't blame them. This is exhausting! There are days and weeks that go by when I don't even think about him. But there is a small handful out there who remember him, who call his name before the Lord, who refuse to give up on David. I hear my kids praying for him. Their hope is not extinguished. Their love is not failing. He has one childhood friend who still prays fervently for him. And my in-laws pray for him every day. There are people who stand in the gap on the days my parents and I can't find hope.

This morning I read Acts 12:7: Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared and a light shone in the cell. He struck Peter on the side and woke him up. "Quick, get up!" he said, and the chains fell off Peter's wrists.

I wasn't thinking of David when I began reading but I was struck with this thought. "David, Get up! Just get up and the chains will fall off!" I pray God will shine his light in David's cell. That freedom will come in the form David can grasp, that God's angel would poke his side and he would wake up to see who he is in Christ. Isn't that what he does for all of us?

Tonight I am standing with my brother in a tangible way. I am getting a tattoo of his artwork on the back on my neck. I have one piece of original art that he made for me. It is a pink cherry blossom. That will be the art for the tattoo. David is an amazing artist and tattoo artist. So this is a fitting way for me to remember him and tell others about him. If you read this, please call out Acts 12:7 to the Father with me. David, wake up!

State of Being

2008-10-06T05:45:00.000-07:00

The girls and I have been studying verbs in First Language Lessons. Most recently we have been learning the state of being verbs. As I explained to them, these are words that simply show that something exists. No action, these words just show that you are! Some days we need to simply exist.

Yesterday was a wonderful Sunday of no action. It was the day following Ink for Africa. I stayed in my pajamas all day! Poor Danny had to be at work at 6:30am. But the rest of us slept til 10am and ate cinnamon rolls on the back porch. The sun cast that perfect autumn goldness that keeps you warm but not hot. So we stayed outside most of the day til 9pm.

Kids need time to just be. That is when they create and imagine, when they think and talk. And if we want to hear what is on their hearts, we have to protect their time and pencil 'nothing' into the schedule. Noah and I talked for two hours after breakfast. We talked about life and people and differences and God's grace. Periodically, I would say, "Are we dragging this out too long?" His response was, "No, this is helpful." I love listening to his heart and understanding his take on his experiences.

I invited the girls to come out separately and asked what they wanted to talk about. Dove talked about differences she notices in friends. That led to talking about your inner circle, the people we allow to influence our lives and the outer circle of people we occasionally spend time with. She is not too young to practice making wise decisions! Then she wanted to talk about how babies get from the inside to the outside! I think this stemmed from us talking about how women are better at handling physical pain.

When it was PJ's turn to talk, she wanted to talk about beads and crafts and art. She showed me her very organized collection and the seasonal necklaces she is making. When I tried to talk about life, she steered me right back to which kinds of beads represent spring and how she sees bird eggs in the tiny dots of her favorite button. PJ has an uncanny knack for color and creativity. She sees life as art. That is a gift!

Of course Jett, wanted his turn. But all he wanted was a back scratch and a popsicle! As the baby of the family, he gets the lion's share of my attention so often. It was really nice that he played quietly and I had uninterrupted time with my other kids. The rest of the day they played outside, I sat on the deck and read and wrote yesterday's monster post. I am thankful for our state of being day!

Silent Weekend

2008-10-05T19:00:00.000-07:00

My spirit settles as I back out of the driveway. I have tied up loose ends, filled the pantry with food for the husband and kids, and settled in the car after a very noisy afternoon. I have way more books and warm socks than I will ever use in one weekend. But my son is a boy scout and I have learned to be prepared! I am driving to Ignatius House where I will dwell in silence from Friday evening til noon on Sunday. I anticipate the possibility that God might want to tell me something while he has my undivided attention. I am in for a gift as that possibility is about to become a much needed reality.

Every September I set aside a weekend to take a silent retreat. These times away are the highlight of my spiritual journey. I am amazed at all God wants to pour over me if I will listen. I am sharing this experience in hopes that you will be compelled to find a silent place to listen. If you do this once, I bet you will be hooked.

As I am approaching the serene 28 acres of woods and trails along the Chattahoochee, my friend K.N. calls with a prophetic word. I am going to tell you what that was because it blows me away to see how God can work through a good friend and a listening heart. K.N. said she had been thinking of Danny and me all day and would be texting some scriptures to me. Then she said, "I am supposed to tell you that there is a pattern in your life that you need to stop. You need to figure out where are you getting off track. I believe God wants to free you from something."

Have you ever met someone who just seems to have a hotline from God? These are the friends you want to listen to; the ones you hope have a word for you now and again. My first thought was, "I know it was an act of obedience for her to even say these things to me. So I am going to find out why God told her that." So the first evening of my retreat was ushered in with a quiet whisper as I stepped out of my car: "God! From what do you want to free me?" But there had been a quickening in my spirit the moment K.N. had spoken those words. And I had a glimmer of what was coming.

Before she even texted me the verses she was praying for us, I read the previous day's Streams in the Desert selection from Charles Spurgeon. That glimmer got a little brighter as I read...
"Dear believer, can you find any reason why you are so often mourning instead of rejoicing? Why do you allow your mind to dwell on gloomy thoughts? Who told you that night will never turn in day?...Have hope...Hope forever, for God will not fail you." As I read this, God said to me, "It's time to stop being ruled by your emotions. You say you trust me, and I have told you I am working this desert experience for your good. So stop letting financial circumstances dictate how you will feel day by day." Wow! There was my pattern. The next day I would receive K.N.'s text with Isaiah 30:15 for me. "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength. But you would have none of it." What a confirmation that God was trying to show me that legitimate trust frees me from being ruled by my feelings.

The current day's Streams in the Desert was based on 2 Corinthians 5:7. It further confirmed what God was trying to tell me: God never wants us to live by our feelings he wants us to face the facts of who he is. What really stood out in this passage was a line that read: "...He wants us to trust him apart from our feelings resting solely on His Word and His faithfulness to his promise." God could not have been more clear. This is a time of testing. Our circumstances have been orchestrated by Him for us. God is trying to teach me something that I cannot fully grasp if I am going to continue to be tossed up and down emotionally. That burns alot of energy and gives me headaches. It also distracts me from those two things up there in bold letters. I find it very interesting that he has worked up to this. God did not demand we enter this desert place with a stiff upper lip. He has met our needs, been silent at times, and allowed us to feel what we had to feel. But it is as if He is saying, "OK we've got some work to do and it's time to climb the next rung."

The next morning, I saw the scriptures that K.N. had texted. They built on everything God and I had discussed Friday night. Over the course of the weekend God wove those scriptures together with others He had previously led me to. Themes began to surface and God gently reminded me that he is working something far greater in our lives than we currently see. For instance, God had been impressing upon Danny the importance of praise in the dry places. Both of the passages she was praying for Danny (Isaiah 41:18-20 and 43:18-21) were about praise and God sustaining his people in/and transforming the desert places.

There was the theme of hope that God had reminded me of in Zechariah 9:12. Which led to Zephaniah 3:17-20 and the theme of an appointed time that God has been weaving into us for 9 months. One theme I am especially fond of is the announcing. I felt God's kindness in these verses, as if he were saying, "I know you are weary so I am going to announce to you, I'm going to tell you now that I am at work, this is not random." My friend gave us Isaiah 42:5-9, which has sustained us for years. When I opened to this page I saw the notes written around these verses from 1998, 1999, 2000, 2002, 2004 and now 2008. God speaks to me again here with "...This is what the Lord says...I will...I will...I will...." Ending with before it happens, I announce it to you.

I will share just one more theme. As Danny and I have sought God's direction together, we are certain that He will be glorified. It has never been about us, even on the days with lots of drama. In Isaiah 41:20, the word says "so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this..." And in Zephaniah 3:17 we are reminded that the sorrows of the appointed time he will remove, he will rescue, he will gather, he will give, etc. The restoration will be an obvious work of the Lord.

Ten years ago when we were struggling with infertility God led us to the above mentioned passage in Isaiah 42. What I wrote in the margin next to "I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not give my glory to another or my praise to idols." was that no doctor could take the credit for the baby God would give us. Little did I know He had a baby in China for us. But here we are a decade later with four kids! And I would say that is an obvious work of the Lord!

We trusted Him then. We can trust him now!

Silent Retreat #4

2008-09-30T17:51:00.000-07:00

Appointed Time

2008-09-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

Looking back at my blog posts I see that 4 months ago I said, "Tomorrow I will post about God's appointed time." Well, here it is!

About a month into this "adventure of dependence," my mom called one morning to ask how I was holding up. I told her I wasn't. She immediately pulled out her Bible and read this to me Habakkuk 2:2-3. "Then the Lord replied, write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it. For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."

She said, "God has an appointed time and no amount of crying, begging or pleading can speed that up." God is up to something and my job is to wait for the revelation.

One of the things my mom talked to me about is letting go of my expectations and putting my trust in God. She shared two important elements:
1. God is sovereign over timing and everything in my life.
2. I honor God by accepting my own limitations in regard to timing.

That day I began to pray differently. It started with acknowledging that I am not the one in control. Instead of asking God to bring the solution right away, I started asking God to sustain us while we wait. God has shown up! As I have posted previously, work is coming in for Danny, gifts are miraculously appearing, God is giving to us through others.

I typed the above words 6 months ago. I never dreamed I'd still be walking this rocky road. But God has seen fit to prolong this time in our lives. The road has gotten dusty and very dry at times. Some days I am so thirsty and I can't see God anywhere in this. But just as my hope is faltering, he reveals himself in some odd or unique way like with money in my carton of eggs! The scripture closes with "...it will certainly come, it will not delay." This sure feels like a delay; a long one. But God has already determined the outcome.

What first grabbed my mom's attention about this passage is what she read in NAS "Record the vision...that the one who reads it may run." She said, "Keep writing promises on the wall so Danny can be reminded of his vision and be encouraged to keep going."

One more thing...Check out the notes in that were in her Bible regarding this text.
"A fixed period must elapse before the prophecy will be fulfilled, but this should not be regarded as failure or deception. Rather this time can be endured with the Lord's guarantee of approaching fulfillment."

That footnote is still sustaining us. There have been days were we felt deceived, tricked. But as time passes and God reassures us that fulfillment is coming. So we endure.

I Am a Prisoner

2008-09-23T20:22:00.001-07:00

Return to your fortress, O prisoner of hope;
even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.
Zechariah 9:12

Today I am discouraged. I feel overcome and wiped out. I was so looking forward to some good news. But I was met with nothing negative or particularly positive. When I received that message, I thought I would cave in shoulders first. But I jumped in my car and drove to Pottery Barn Outlet and shopped til I felt better. HA! Who are we kidding? This is not tv. This is an internet diary. I took my $25 cash and drove to the local K-Roger.

I quoted this scripture with such fervor that I drove up there actually believing it. I was on the phone with Kirsten when I walked up to the automatic double doors. I decided to stand just out of reach of the sensor long enough for her to impart a little H2O to my parched soul. I mean, who wants to be the woman walking into the grocery store crying, clenching a list of essentials and a small amount of cash?? I am sure I would not be the first!

But here is the beauty of the encouragement of a friend. Her words turned me back to this scripture. The word I had been quoting, His Word, dug beneath my discouragement. At first it felt like a spade, breaking me and loosening all that felt tight around the roots. But after a moment of agitation, I felt a warm hand holding my pulsating heart. My heartbeat slowed. I remembered God's promise to me today, and yesterday, and the days and days before.

I could hear that God was saying, "This is for you. Run back to me, I am your fortress. You are a prisoner of hope and that is a good thing." I could be a prisoner of many things. But I am a prisoner of hope. And I am glad.

Friendship

2008-09-22T20:34:00.001-07:00

It's interesting to me how some friends are for life and some are for seasons. The lifers aren't put out with you if you don't see them for a year. They're not in this for themselves. And the seasonal friends are by no means expendable. You are just in each other's life for a time of God ordained comfort, support, and enjoyment.

I am intrigued by God's timing with my friendships. He can rekindle a dusty one when you need it, when the friend is unaware of your circumstance. He can bring a new one that may last a month or a few years. Either way the imprint we leave on one another in the exchange leaves a kind of resist that we will take into future relationships.

I am so grateful for the folks in my life today. It is amazing how much more I grow when I am interacting with people who inspire me. Hopefully I am encouraging them too.

Blueberry Day

2008-09-21T18:55:00.000-07:00

On my list of things I desperately wanted to do this summer was to go blueberry picking with my mom and the kids. It was early in the summer but I am so glad we went. The season ended soon after we returned from China and we would have missed it. It was old-fashioned fun...the kind that makes you wish it could last all day. When we were thoroughly exhausted, we headed out in search of home cooking. We found a place called Simply Southern. I found it funny that the guy cooking our fried chicken and green beans was Korean! From the taste of our lunch, he's been living in the south for a while.

Here are some pictures from our fun day in July.

The Good, the Bad and the Beautiful

2008-09-20T07:28:00.000-07:00

I tend to post mostly about the good stuff. And why not? It's no fun dwelling on the bad long enough to write it. And who wants to read it? Unless...the bad isn't really bad.

For the last 9 months God has been taking my husband and me on a journey that has pushed us and tested us in ways we have never experienced. By default our kids are included in this journey. What they are learning is something our words could never teach them. What we are learning is that God can be trusted. When we are without gas money for the next day and our 11 year old finds $100 on the porch step with a note, "To the Stephenses from Jesus." his eyes have just seen what his ears have only heard. You can't really call that bad.

In our desperation and dependence, we are driven to pray together and trust and abide. That is not a bad thing. We are finding that God in that place of desperation waiting to meet us. Often times we are forced to lean into things we cannot get out of. During this leaning, we learn something new about ourselves and God's faithfulness. As Andy Stanley says, "When our faith intersects with God's faithfulness..."

So even though some days feel really bad, they are working something beautiful that remains unknown to me. Isaiah 28:28 "Bread flour must be ground; therefore he does not thresh it forever,"

Mystery Solved

2008-09-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

Ahhh. I have figured it out. I went back and listened to the message for the 15th time. And this time I recognized the voice. Funny thing is Dovie got it right away this morning. But I said, "No that's not her voice." Now that I know who you are, would you like to join us for breakfast tomorrow? We are having bagels and donuts...but I guess you already knew that! :)

Thank you my Thailand friend! Welcome to the BOM!

Help Solve My Mystery

2008-09-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

I have had an emotional day. First of all this is day 5 of my migraine. I think I can forecast the weather by these things! We really needed to pay an overdue bill today. So I was headed out to the mailbox to see if we had any gig money. As I opened the front door, I was shocked to see a huge box of groceries on my doorstep. I fell to my knees and praised God for this blessing. The kids came running to see if the headache had finally done me in. They were amazed by God's provision and mesmerized by the cookies and brownies! Noah informed me that someone had just left a message telling me to check the front porch. Of course, they did not say their name. And I don't have caller id so I don't know who it was. You'd think I could recognize a friend's voice. But everyone I have asked, has denied making the delivery. Hmmmm... Who could it be? Who could have known?

Well, you may be wondering. The mailbox contained no green. So I just kept trusting God for the provision. While I was at our homeschool co-op this afternoon, I had this overwhelming sense of peace. I immediately thought, "That bill has been paid." It was as if the burden was lifted. I got home and found out that about the time I was experiencing peace, someone had loaned us the money for this crucial need. Wow God is good. This same "someone" bought us a refrigerator when both of our old ones died last week. You know who you are...Welcome to the BOM!

By the way, if our band of misfits intrigues you and you would like to create one of your own, all you have to do is give or receive. Why do I refer to us misfits? Because most people don't do life this way. We have a remarkable group of friends meeting one another's needs. If one of us has it and one of us needs it, we give it. It is a beautiful thing.

Ink for Africa

2008-09-16T08:05:00.000-07:00

When Rebekah left her sweet comment on my post, she made my mom cry. Yes, I like to homeschool and bake and pick blueberries, and I wear an apron everyday. But I also like to invite my friends over for tattoos! Here is the 'raising money for people' thing Rebekah was referring to....

You know adoption is an issue close to my heart. What you may not know is that international adoption is about $20,000 total. Danny and I have some close friends who are adopting and we want to ask all of our friends to join us in supporting them. The next step for this family is to raise an initial $2,200. So we have devised a way to help them. Some of you came to our Tats for Tots party to raise money for our globalx trip to East Asia. That party was a blast and we raised $1,200 that day for our trip.

Jamie Pierce has graciously agreed to come over again (and again) and ink for Africa. Many of you are familiar with his work as he has tattooed alot of people at North Point. Jamie attends church there and really has a heart for missions. Click on the flyer for more details. Basically, we will have a drop in party from noon to midnight on two dates: October 4th and October 11th. If you are coming to donate and hang out, stop by anytime. But if you want to be tattooed, I need to put you on schedule. You can contact me here or on facebook. We will be splitting the tattoo proceeds between Jamie and the adoption fund. So bring cash :).

I will be periodically updating on this event. Hope to see you there.

A Pocket for My Pinecones

2008-09-15T17:43:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my dear friend Cindy (and her medicine cabinet) my 4 day headache is subsiding and I decided to do a little sewing. I really want to make an apron. But I have never sewn anything by a pattern before. So I decided to start small. Tonight I added a pocket to my Christmas apron. Hey it's a start!

Amy gave me an easy pattern for when I am ready to try my hand at making my own apron. I opened it up and my first thought was "Too many pieces!" So I just followed the directions for the pocket. That was easy. Maybe I should just buy aprons and add pockets!

Easy as 1-2-3

2008-09-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

I told you Jett is all into the school thing. Today he found some puffy alphabet stickers and covered his belly. After this art exhibit, he covered himself in tattoos. Thank you, Miriam for the boxes of books and stickers!

My goal this year is to start each school day with an activity specifically geared to Jett. This was good advice from Jeannie Fulbright. This makes him feel included and curtails that urge he has to get our attention when I am trying to read aloud. Today we played Boggle Jr. He loved matching the letters and spelling words. We also played Python Path with Dove and PJ. That game is a little difficult for him, but he went along with it. We have an Usborne Number Lotto that Jett loves. He calls it his math. He brings it out when the others gather their math books.

So what do you do with your preschoolers? I would love it if you would share your ideas with me.

First Week of School

2008-09-08T19:42:00.000-07:00

Look at those faces. How could I not love being with them all day? We had a good time last week, getting back on a schedule, seeing what new things we will learn this year. The best part is that Jett is all about what we are doing. Last year was a challenge because he wanted the other kids to play with him all day. So it was very hard for me to get much teaching done. But this year is different. I am grateful because I have prayed for this all summer. I won't say Jett is sitting patiently for hours. But he does like to join in.

Jett was excited to decorate his own pencil box. He plays on the computer with headphones or sits in his cubby and reads the books on his special shelf. He still wants the other kids to play with him. But he is learning patience. It is precious to me how much he wants to be like Noah. He will wear the same color shirt or ask for the same kind of cereal. Sunday morning I had told him to get his shoes several times. I was trying to get out the door and just grabbed them for him. He started crying alligator tears and I couldn't understand why. He wanted to wear tennis shoes like Noah and he had been trying to find socks! Of course, I found that sweet boy a pair of socks!!

Corn Hole Holiday

2008-09-02T20:36:00.000-07:00

We spent Labor Day with the Johnston's and were enlightened in the ways of Corn Hole. Just the name itself intrigued me enough to venture out in the heat and give it a go. It was alot of fun. We always enjoy an afternoon with Michael and Amy.
Danny and Michael have been friends since they were 16! Amy and I talked homeschool and sewing and had fun looking at each other's latest projects.

This is a dreamy picture of an old fashioned American holiday: shotgun house, picket fence, dog on the porch and a swing full of kids!

Homeschool Eve

2008-09-01T23:52:00.000-07:00

Why I wait til the last minute I will never know. But I am just more creative that way. It's almost 3am and I just finished, cleaning and decorating our school room, copying notebook pages and organizing books and crafts. It's like Christmas Eve! I had to wait til the kids were in bed to do all this. I want the first day of school to be fresh and exciting. So it was out with the old and in with the new. I packed away 1st and 5th grade and brought out 2nd and 6th. I even created a little cubby hole with special stuff for Jett. He is excited to do what the big ones do.

Being that I waited til after Labor Day to begin class, I felt it was appropriate to haul out the fall decor. The room will look clean and different when the kids come down in the morning. Hopefully they will be surprised. I have to sleep now. We are painting t-shirts and decorating pencil boxes bright and early...that's 10am in the Stephens house! :)

Robin's Egg Quilt

2008-08-30T21:13:00.000-07:00

Here are the first two blocks for the quilt I am making for our freshly painted bedroom. These Denyse Schmidt fabrics are so fun. The line, Flea Market Fancy, came out two years ago. So I'm having a hard time finding more. I wanted this quilt to be random. Seeing how they are two different sizes, I would say I am succeeding. Hmmm... I want to float them in white so I guess I can make up the difference there. Any suggestions?

I have not forgotten about posting what the kids are sewing. The projects are changing from just a block to a doll blanket and pillow. So we have more work to do. I will share those photos soon.

The BOM

2008-08-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

The Band of Misfits is growing! Yesterday Heath and Jamie called us from AR. Somebody gave them a van!! And I don't mean a run down old thing. A couple said God told them to give Heath and Jamie their 2003 Honda Odyssey. WOW! This meets a huge need for them. Just a few days ago Heath and Jamie had our family over for dinner. They could not have known what perfect timing their invitation was. Their friendship is such a blessing to us. They are always willing to give and share what they have. And look what God has done!

Band of Misfits

2008-08-28T08:05:00.000-07:00

I was telling some friends tonight that I refer to our group as a band of misfits. Not because we are pathetic but because we are living contrary to culture. We are taking care of each other. We find ourselves in circumstances of need, testing, struggle. This is when alot of people feel isolated. But God seems to be pulling a group of people together with invisible string. Our various paths are converging in our common desire to be used of God.

What a gift this is! True friendship is a rare treasure in these busy days. It is strength giving and edifying to have these kinds of friends. To be so low in circumstance, I find I am lifted high by the prayers and outreach of people who care about me. God wants us to bear one another’s burdens. And that is what is taking place with us...granted I am on the receiving end alot these days. This current trial I am in is opening my eyes to the needs around me. God is giving me a Biblical view of money and teaching me to slow down and notice needs around me. He is also providing opportunities for me to meet a few needs. It is really fun to strengthen those who are strengthening me.

Have any of you heard Francis Chan’s message on The Church? I listened to this Monday. It is incredible. I told Danny, "This is what our group of friends is about." Hours later our mechanic called and said, “Your car is ready and someone has anonymously paid your bill.” A friend who knew we broke down on the side of the road made our problem his problem. When something like this happens, I hear God’s voice saying, “See I haven’t forgotten about you.”

How do you get friends like this? In the words of Corky, "You find them."

Great Sadness

2008-08-27T21:02:00.000-07:00

My heart has been so heavy today for a homeschool family I do not know. Their 3 year old son passed away last night. I was forwarded an email that went throughout the homeschool community asking people to pray for Christian last night. Danny, Noah and I prayed together and hoped God would intervene. This morning the first thing I saw in my inbox was that he had passed. I have been sick with grief today since reading the outcome. My heart is breaking for the Drews family. I have cried and prayed as I looked at his pictures and read about him counting for his mom. I have a little blonde three year old son. He is also excited about doing school next week with his siblings. It is these similarities and the bond of being fellow a homeschool family that intensify this grief for a mom I have never met.

Please join me in praying for this family in the days and weeks ahead. Put a rock in your shoe or a string around your wrist to remind you throughout the day to call out their names before the Lord. They have to try to sleep at night. They have to relive all this the day they bury his little body. And this mom(Marsha) has to teach her other two sons in their home when school starts. She has to be happy, make school fun, comfort her boys. She needs our prayers! Christian's brothers (nicknamed Tank and Dash) need to feel peace from God for something that cannot make sense. And finally David, the dad, has to embrace his own grief while comforting the rest of his family. Surely God can give him the strength for this as he has also grieved the traffic loss of his Son. But he is God and we are human! From what I have read about them, I know they rejoice that Christian is with the Lord. But I know that doesn't lessen the pain. Please, please don't forget this family.