Gratitude & Little Girls

I have this adorable, curly haired, little three year old.  She's one for the books.

At the beginning of this month of gratitude, I decided that I was going to start voicing my thankfulness more often. From the food in our frig to the bench we sit on to put on our shoes.  I'd been hearing a lot of ingratitude around here lately and it was starting to get to me.

My littlest picked up on it.  Out of the blue she began asking me, "Are you grateful Mama?"

God's little mouthpiece.

"Yes, I am!  We have so much to thank Jesus for!  He's been so good to us!"

"Are you grateful for your girls Mama?"

I'd give her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek, "YES!  I am SO grateful for my girls!"

Then she began asking me in obvious moments of frustration, "Mama, are you grateful?"

Wow.  That question spoken in her little voice has the effect of water thrown on my angry fire.  I melt.  My voice quiets and I reply, "Yes, love, I am grateful for my girls." 

I think it's God.  I've been crying out to Him for help to do this parenting thing.  I get so frustrated some days.  I get tired of living in a mess.  I get aggravated that all the toys that I picked up so that I could vacuum, get pulled out three minutes after I put them away.  I get sick of a bathroom sink that is always dirty.  And when I begin to rampage about such things that won't matter in eternity, God is using my little person to remind me that she is eternity.  I can't take my clean house with me to Heaven, but I can take her.  But only if I can effectively show her the love of Jesus.  My responses are pivotal.  I know that her eternity doesn't fully rest on my shoulders, but a good portion of how she views God does.  It's a responsibility far bigger than keeping my house in tip top shape.  It's eternal.  That's a long time. 

I feel like a bit of a failure.  I make mistakes.  A lot.  But God is showing me that even in my failure, He is there and He cares.  He wants to help.  It's a great comfort.

She continues to ask me that question from time to time.  It's good for me.  I set out to teach my girls about gratitude, but the little buggers turned the tables on me!  They've become good reminders to count my blessings in moments when I'd rather knock their cute little heads together.  (Just being honest!)

God's help often comes in unexpected ways!  And I am grateful!

The Last Frontier

I can honestly say that I never planned to ever visit Alaska.  Nay, I really didn't want to visit.  I mean, it's cold there!  Beauty schmooty!  Not interested.

After my Dad passed away a few years ago, my Mom was terribly lonely.  In the process of helping to organize a high school reunion, she reconnected with a fellow graduate named "Bill".  He too had lost his spouse a few years earlier.  Thus began a romance.

But my Mom, even though she is an elderly lady, does things with a splash.  Turns out that "Bill" lives in Alaska!  Yeah, really far away.  

I warned my Mom that we probably wouldn't get to visit her...EVER!  But they made the agreeable plan to summer in Alaska and winter in Iowa.  I told her that we'd see her in the winter and waved goodbye.

She missed her grandchildren so much the first summer, that she began a savings plan to help her children and grandchildren with the cost of airplane tickets.  (Thanks Mom!)

So, without much more explanation here is a massive photo dump.  Hope y'all don't get too bored.  I'm doing this mainly for my family.  Because I am terrible at actually getting pictures printed.  Most of the time they stay in my computer.  It's sad, but true.  But I digress.

Waiting at the gate in Omaha to get on our first flight.
There was much excitement!

I wish that I would have taken a picture after we climbed off the plane in Anchorage because I'm sure that we looked pretty bad.  It was a LONG day.

Texas.  We had to fly to Texas first.  The opposite direction from where we needed to end up.  I shall end there lest I spew frustration at having to go HUNDREDS of miles in the WRONG direction before we could get to where we needed to be.  I'm done.

Anyway, I woke up the morning of our departure and had an infection.  So, I was pretty miserable the whole long day.  We got to Anchorage and I had to take a Taxi to an Urgent Care.  Yep, needed antibiotics.  By now I was utterly exhausted.  Nervous me, hadn't slept more than three hours the night before.  

I asked the doctor if I could wait until morning to go to the drug store.  We weren't going to get our rental car until then.  I asked him if I could walk there.  He was adamant that I should not be walking in this part of town.  

In a move that I have never seen before, the doctor said, wait here.  He went out and inquired what time the drug store closed.  An hour.  He came walking back and asked me if I were awake enough to drive.  I was confused.  But I nodded my head yes.

That good doctor handed me the keys to his personal vehicle, gave me directions and sent me to the drug store.  Wow. 

I couldn't believe it.  This was actually an answer to my prayers!  I had been asking God all day to figure this out.  I was lamenting to myself that we didn't know anyone in Anchorage.  Because then they could lend me their car and I could go get my stuff without having to pay the expensive Taxi fees.  I knew that I am trustworthy, but they don't.  

I cried.  I thanked him profusely and went to the drug store.  On the way back to the clinic, I listened to "Jesus Loves Me" on his radio.  Pretty sure the man knows Jesus.

Anyway, the next day we got our car and started south toward Homer Alaska.

Okay, so I don't know who the kid is.  He wouldn't
move, so I took his picture.  Ignore him and look at the
mountains.

This is the Kenai river.  It's absolutely gorgeous!
The water is a beautiful turquoise.
Truly unique.

The six hour drive from Anchorage to Homer was breathtaking.  A camera cannot capture the beauty.  Seriously.  God's handiwork is amazing.

This is the view from the ridge above Homer Alaska.
Homer is unique because they have what is called
a spit.  See that land jutting out into the bay?
It is 4.5 miles long with boats, restaurants, and shops.
It is the longest road into ocean waters in the world.
Pretty cool!

So, Bill owns a boat.  One day he took us out for a ride.  Can anybody say FUN!  Loved it!

They call these rocks, "The Rookery".
Birds nest in these rocks and multiply by the hundreds.
It's pretty noisy when you get close.

It's kind of hard to see, but there are hundreds of birds
nesting on this rock. Smelly!

A jellyfish in the water.  These guys are COOL!
They don't have stingers, but they're just clear
little things filled with water.  It was fun to watch for them
in the water.

Another jellyfish.  This guy was striped and moved
around a lot.  Cool beans.  I wanted to touch one,
but we never got the chance.

Bill took us to Halibut Cove.  It's an island (mountain) that can only be reached by boat.
Neat, neat, neat place!  There is a restaurant there that has it's own ferry to Homer.
Anyway, they have a tank with sea life in it.  We were free to touch star fish, sea
anemone, and some other unidentifiable creatures.  The water level in the tank follows
the tide.  We were at low tide and thus the tank was low on water.  J.J. didn't
want to touch.  Just look.

The ramp to the dock at halibut cove was steep.
The tide was at an astonishing low, and that's why the ramp was
terribly steep.  I actually didn't catch the ramp when it was at
it's steepest, so this is after the tide was starting to come in.

It rained pretty much everyday we were in Alaska.  I personally enjoyed it.
I LOVE rain!  But anyway, this is again at Halibut Cove.  There is a boardwalk suspended above the
water for a good distance around the island.  The island is basically a mountain, so on one side of
the walkway was about a foot wide gap between the boardwalk and the mountain with a significant
drop below.  I was a nervous Mama!  It was wet and everything was slick.  In Alaska,
unlike the contiguous states, if you are stupid, you pay for it.  There are fewer regulations for keeping
people from their own stupidity.  Thus the gap and flimsy railings.   

So, while the little people stayed with Grandma on the boardwalk,
Kurt and I hiked to the top of the mountain at Halibut Cove.
The view was breathtaking, but it was cloudy, so the pictures don't do it justice.

Just beautiful!

One of the cutest little sailor girls I've ever seen!
She wasn't all that thrilled with the life jacket, but
with her climbing tendencies, we weren't risking it.

I liked the hat! 

So, the boat ride was kinda long on the way back.  And cold.
I think they all had a short nap.

Where else can you go to the park and have a view like this?

This picture means nothing to you unless you live in Nebraska.
To a Nebraskan, it's kinda cool.
Only two cities in the U.S. that bear the name "Seward".
One in Nebraska and one in Alaska.  I can now say that I've been to both!

We went to an aquarium in Seward.
I can now say that I have touched a sea anemone.
It felt weird.
Starfish feel weird too. (Shudder)

I dislike birds.  And dogs.  But everyone else thought this puffin
was neat, so I thought maybe you would too.

There was a pretty little creek right out our back door
at the bed and breakfast just outside of Seward.
We would have loved to explore it a bit more, but it was rainy
and cold.

In Seward, there is a glacier that you are able to climb up the mountain
to see.  It's quite a little climb.  And it was WET!  It drizzled the whole time.
It was fun though.  Mom kept the girls with her back at the base.
Otherwise, there was NO way we would have been able to take them. Not in the rain.

At the end of Mom's lane there was this scary lady.
The girls begged us to "go fast Daddy" every time we had to pass her.
When we were leaving for the last time, the girls wanted to stop and make
their peace with her.
They each gave her a flower.  But Daddy had to be there. Really close.
Because the crazy lady looks a bit unpredictable.

I didn't want to come home.  I wanted to get lost on a mountain somewhere and hole up until Jesus comes.  Because there are no snakes there.  None.  Love that.  No bugs either.  Love that also.  There is the minor problem of bears and moose, but like I said, minor.

I missed an opportunity to eat Rudolph.  Could have had reindeer sausage, but I passed it up.  Maybe next time.

My handsome farmer went back to his fields the Monday after we got home.  He came in to eat dinner out of the heat and humidity. "I'm Alaska sick".  He informed me.

We have been trying to figure out how we could make a living if we moved to Alaska.  Not sure there are many farmers there, so we'd better just stay in the flat lands.

Sorry this is a month after the actual trip, but we've had colds and sinus infections, and well, life.  Plus, I had this post all done and ready to publish and somehow the computer lost it.  So it's late, but that's okay!  

  

Friendships

Can I be totally honest here?  Vulnerable even?  

Friendship.

How does one go about that?

When I was in high school, I didn't have any problems finding, being, or having friends.  I've always been a bit shy in reaching out, but I decided that I was going to overcome that and reach out when it wasn't always comfortable.  I knew that I had "arrived" when one of my friends told me that she could easily envision me in my new job as a waitress because, "You're good with people."  I was floored!  Her offhand compliment gave me confidence and I flourished.  I don't think that she ever knew just how much that meant to me.

I began to truly enjoy people.  I didn't feel threatened and I enjoyed learning new things about people.    It's a time that I look back on with fondness.  

Because that's not who I am today. 

I refuse to play the blame game.  I have made choices that have made me who I am today.  

But there have been people who have hurt me along life's way.  Where I once looked at relationships as an opportunity to make a new friend or help someone, I now tremble with apprehension.

I know that everyone gets hurt at some point.  I'm not some "special case".  Maybe it's my personality. I don't know.  I got burned and I'm still dealing with the scab.  I wouldn't say that it's a scar yet.  Still a scab.

Maybe it's fear.  I don't know.  I'm not sure who to trust.  How to trust.  What used to be so easy, now comes hard. 

My husband looked at me recently and said, "You would never make it as a customer service representative."  He wasn't being nasty.  He was just stating a fact that I know is true. 

How does one go from, "You're great with people." to, "You've got terrible people skills."?  I'm not sure, but I think that it involves a lot of pain and frustration mixed with a whole lot of misunderstanding.

I find myself freezing when it comes to making phone calls.  I ask myself a list of questions like:

Will this person be annoyed by my phone call?

If I have a question, is it legitimate?

Is there some answer that I'm missing?

Will this person think that I'm stupid and reject me?

Is the timing of the call going to be okay?  

Will I interrupt their day?

Will they see me as a hassle?

Often my heart starts racing and I break out into a sweat just thinking about making a phone call or even sending an email.  Even if it's just a call to the dentist.  I know, I know, I'm probably over-thinking things, but...I've had some experiences...

Anyway, back to the friendship thing.  I have a lot of friends.  I can go back to my home state and revel in friendships.  Make one call and we can easily have a girl party!  I love it!

But those are trusted people.  People I've known all my life.  People who I know love me.  People with whom I can "let my hair down" so to speak.

I feel like I'm in the great unknown right now.  One of my biggest problems is reaching out.  I'm concerned about being a burden.  I'm a bit scared of my offer being rejected, possibly even ridiculed.  I'm scared to get involved because I don't want things to end badly as they have before.  I have misunderstood people and they have misunderstood me and out of that has come great pain. 

I'm not exactly sure how to reach out either.  Everyone is so different that it is confusing to me just how to reach out and make a friend.  I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it's how I feel.  Most would advise me to just be myself.  But I'm not sure who that is really.  (Sigh, I know, that sounds so cliche, but it's true.  I'm trying to find out who God has created me to be.)

I think I like people.  I know that I need people, but I'm just not sure how to go about making long lasting friendships.  I don't want casual friends.  Well, I do, but mostly I want a friend who is in "life" for the duration.  

I find that I'm terribly lonely.  Again, I don't blame anyone.  I stink at reaching out.  Maybe I've even hurt some feelings with my reticence.  I honestly don't know.  I'm just trying to figure things out.

One of the hazards about writing a post about something so personal is people's tendency to think that I am crying out for sympathy.  I'm not.  This is not a bid for "poor you" comments.  I want friends who want to be my friend because they like me.  NOT because they pity me.  Nor do I want people to feel that I need to be handled with kid gloves.  That's not what this is about.  Sincerity goes a long way with me.  Though I have misinterpreted that in the past...  Anyway, honesty is the best policy when dealing with people.

I guess the reason that I wrote this is because maybe there is someone else out there who is trying to navigate the confusing waters of friendship.  Maybe it is a relief to find that there are other people out there who struggle with this issue.

On a side note, I found that Chonda Pierce the Christian comedian, also struggles with this.  After her husband's recent death, she found out that one of her "dear" friends hasn't been a real friend at all.  This "friend" has said some nasty things about Chonda behind her back for years.  Chonda didn't know.  Now she is not only dealing with the death of her husband, but also the betrayal of a close friend.

I think I know a bit about how she feels.  It hurts and makes it so hard to reach out again.

I guess that if you are reading this, you could pray for those of us who are struggling with friendships.  For those who feel locked in a prison of loneliness.  It's hard and confusing.

Well, that's where I'm at right now folks!  Hope this didn't depress you, but helped to make you aware of the hurting around you.  

The Woman Who Lived in a Mess

There once was a woman who lived in a mess.  She didn't particularly enjoy living in a mess, but this was not your typical "mess".  This was a sneaky, somewhat sinister mess.  The mess had the uncanny ability to grow when she but blinked her eyes.

The woman lived on a farm which provided many and various opportunities for the "mess" to overtake her home.  Newly cut grass tracked across the house, mud puddles galore, donkey poo, corn, soybeans, sand, and the list could wrap around the world.

The woman awakened to the sun pouring through her window.  The children were clamoring for her attention.  Even the two year old who had awakened her several times in the night having felt the need to lie on top of her Mommy until the nightmare was forgotten.  The woman, tired of traipsing up and down the stairs, made a little bed on the floor by her big bed and laid the toddler there.

As the woman lay in bed trying to catch up on sleep, the two little girls began to argue and fuss.  So, the woman acquiesced and rolled out of bed.

"Mom, I want juice!  Mom, I want juice!"

"Mom, I'm hungry!  Mom, I'm hungry!"  rang two little voices loud and insistent.  Each one vying for the mother's undivided attention.

Groggily the woman poured the juice and slathered the toast with PB&J.  Thus, with the children temporarily satisfied, the woman decided to get dressed.  As she turned to go to her room, she noticed that her hubby had lovingly carried the laundry up from the basement.  That was always a sign that he was out of pants and things were getting serious.  So, she started a load of laundry.

"Mom, I want more."  So, the woman put more bread in the toaster.

"Mom, why aren't you getting my toast?

"Mom, I need more juice."

"Mom, my hair is in my eyes." said the little one as she smeared jam through her tresses in an attempt at getting the hair out of her face.

"MOM!  I dropped my toast and made a mess."

"AAAARRRGGG!  Just hang on!  I can only do one thing at a time!"  The woman was not proud of the exclamation, but seriously, what did they think she was?  An octopus?

After feeding the masses, washing them up, styling hair, and cleaning blueberry rhubarb jam off of the floor, the woman was finally able to get dressed.  After finding a clothing deficit in her closet also, the woman realized just how badly she needed to do laundry.  

As the woman passed the living room on the way to the kitchen, she stopped and shook her head in amazement.  The room that she had ordered her children to clean just the night before, and they had picked up, was now littered with toys.

This is a tame mess.  Very tame.

  Just. That. Fast.  

She narrowed her eyes and vowed to keep an eye on the toy box.  She was sure that it had contracted a bad case of the stomach flu and had vomited its contents all over the living room during the night.

As she sprayed the hubster's jeans with extra goop to get the extreme dirt and oil out, a little voice called from the bathroom, "Moooommmmmeeee, I need help!"  

The woman stopped what she was doing and started toward the bathroom.  She glanced through the living room doorway as she rushed past and caught a glimpse of the toy box.  Yep, no doubt about it, it was sticking its tongue out at her.  She shook her head and proceeded to take care of little person business.

Sticking out it's tongue.

After re-rolling the whole role of toilet paper, drying the floor after a hand washing episode, she snuck a peek at the toy box as she walked by.  She tried not to be obvious.  She was sure the toy box could sense her suspicion.  She caught the direction of her thoughts.

"I'm losing it.  I've gotta get out more."  She shook her head.

But sure enough, more toys had been belched out onto the floor.  This time it was dress up clothes.  Missing was the favorite purple princess dress.  

"Ate that one into oblivion didn't ya?  Ya monster."  She muttered under her breath.

"What Mommy?"

"Nothing sweet girl.  Mommy's just having a mental breakdown."

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm doing laundry.  Do you need something?"

"I need my purple princess dress.  I can't find it."

After searching high and low, the dress was finally located wadded up in a ball behind the toy box.  A happy little girl ran off with sparkling tiara to become the Princess of the Playhouse.

"Lost that battle didn't ya!  I've got my eye on you."  She said to the box in the corner as she walked away to do the dishes.

After finding large clumps of mud on the floor by the front door, she sighed and followed her nose and the mud trail down the basement steps where the trail ended abruptly in front of the closet.  Just more evidence that this was not your typical mess.  It grew exponentially.  Without warning and seemingly by invisible imps.

As she made her way upstairs to get the vacuum, she tripped over the doll car seat and became entangled in the strings of her daughter's pint sized apron.  Regaining her balance, she resumed her attempts at cleaning.

Four minutes (she knew exactly because she timed it) after having cleaned the bathroom sink, she walked into that little room to find mud caked around the handle... again.

All day the woman kept a wary eye on the toy box and the mud that seemed to be appearing all throughout the house.  She noticed that the mess did seem to take a break for nap time, but soon after, the toy box was again spitting an endless stream of toys into the atmosphere.  This time it was the little toys.  The kind that take 9 years to fully locate and put in the proper place.  Things like toy  coins, itty bitty doll clothes, puzzle pieces, and the beads from a broken chew toy.  

After finding a cache of dead leaves and rocks in the girls' bedroom, the woman became peeved.  

She confronted the mess head on.  "What are you girls bringing dead leaves and rocks into the house for anyway?"

"Moooom, it's fish soup."  said the oldest, as though it should be completely obvious.

"Get. It. OUT.  Of. My. House. NOW!" she bit out through clenched teeth.

Obediently they began to clean up their mess.

That night after bath time, the woman again told her children that it was time to pick up and put away all the toys.  The toy box glared at her, but she defiantly returned the glare.

Finally the house was looking less messy if not perfectly clean.  The woman pulled her two precious mess makers up onto her lap and began to read them their nightly chapter from the Bible.  

As the two little ones made their way to the bathroom to brush their teeth, the youngest threw a handful of secretly hoarded toy coins onto the floor and laughed uproariously while the oldest made a detour past the toy box to retrieve her doll and pulled 6 other toys out in the process.  

The woman shook her head.  She definitely lives in a mess, but it is a happy mess.  Yes, it is frustrating and really does seem to have a mind of its own, but it is a mess made by those she loves the most.

The toy box is just too full.  They need to have a toy purge, and soon if her sanity is to stay intact.  Preferably under the cover of darkness, because unused toys suddenly become extremely sentimental when threatened with their relocation.

I am the woman who lives in a mess.  Perpetually.  

One of my sweet friends recently lost her precious 3 year old daughter to a drowning accident.  As I walk with her through her pain and heartache, there is a recurring theme:  

Squeeze and kiss those little mess makers as much and as hard as you can.  We are not guaranteed tomorrow.  

My dear friend would gladly clean up a little three year old mess.  I have that opportunity here and now.  This is my chance to enjoy everything about the little family I have.  God has used this tragedy to wake me up to what a precious gift a mess can be.  I hate, hate, hate, that it has taken such a horrific event to get my attention.  But it has definitely got my attention.

I thought I was doing an okay job before of just gritting my teeth and putting up with the mess, but now I see what an incredible, incredible gift a messy house is.  Even when the man of the house is the culprit.  I love them all and I'm honored that I get to be the one to work on their perpetual mess.

Well, okay, let's be honest, most days I'm honored, but I still have days of frustration.  Though all it takes is to think of not having the need for toys or having a spotless yet sickeningly silent house, to straighten out my attitude.  

Please pray for my friend Dorothy and her family.  They have a long hard road in front of them.  They are hurting.  I can't even imagine the ache of losing a spunky and vivacious little girl too early. 

In the words of my friend, "Go give your children an extra hug and kiss today."

This is how it's supposed to look.

Daddy Lovin's

This Father's Day I'd like to honor my hubby.

He's amazing.

                           

    His little girls love him.  I'm not saying that because it's what you're supposed to say on Father's Day.  I mean those little girls absolutely adore their Daddy.  It's pretty awesome to watch two little girls running as fast as their little legs can carry them toward their Daddy.  He crouches down to meet them with wide open arms and an ear to ear smile.  I've seen that happen a hundred times and it makes me tear up every single time.

   Before we had children I told my man that if we were blessed with girls that I would do all in my power to make him a hero.  I also warned him that if he didn't live up to hero status that I'd kick his hind end.  I needn't have added my warning.  He's a great Dad.  Some days as I watch him with the girls, I am amazed at how effortless he makes parenting look.

   J.J.'s day starts by trip tromping down the steps, climbing up onto our bed, over her daddy, and then burrowing up under his arm and snuggling in close for some daddy lovin's.

   Sometimes I get jealous because Daddy is the favorite.  Then I remember all the little girls who would give their right arm to have just a minute of what J.J. enjoys nearly every morning.  (Because, of course, she gets up at the crack of dawn. Right about the time Daddy needs to get up anyway.  She's a pretty cute alarm clock.  Though, it's not so cute on the days when we could actually sleep in.)  

   He's a hands on Dad.  He always has been.  From Bri's first breath, he's been there giving baths, changing diapers, kissing boo boo's, and whatever else needs to be done.  When I can't get everything done, he's been known to unload the dishwasher, vacuum, and help with the laundry.

   He takes his role as the spiritual leader in our home seriously too.  Not just in doing family devotions, but also in the decisions he makes as to the direction of our home.  The girls often find him kneeling in prayer.  They see him read the Bible every day.  They see his patience when things go wrong.  They will never hear foul language from him.  In nearly 10 years of marriage I don't think that I've ever heard him say a bad word.  Ever.

   He's also pretty fun.

No, my living room is not painted a hideous green.  It's a much nicer color in real life.
  Honest.

   They're pull-ups.  I don't recall just what he was doing, but it was entertaining.  Obviously.

   For a while the nightly routine was: brush teeth, go up the stairs hanging upside down over Daddy's shoulder like a bat, wait at the top of the stairs for Daddy to hide, and then go find him and scream at the top of their lungs when he jumps out at them, pray, and sing a few songs, lights out. It gets kinda wild around here sometimes. 

   He gave J.J. her first taste of dill pickle at 4 months.  Lemons quickly followed.  Along with whatever else he could think of that might produce a funny reaction.  And yes, like all good daddies, he video taped their goofy little expressions.  Posterity's sake and all.

   

                             

    He works hard to provide for us.  We lack nothing.

   When it's 100 degrees out and windier than a gaggle of gossiping old ladies, he's out in the fields working.  For 10 months out of the year he works from sun up to sun down for us.  Because he loves us.  It's humbling.  

   We never talked about what I would do after we had children.  It was just understood between us that I would stay at home and raise whatever children God gifted to us.  I'm grateful to my farmer and to God for allowing us to live that out.  Without my hubby's hard work and dedication, that wouldn't be possible.  

   Thank you Love for taking such good care of us.  We, I, appreciate it immensely. 

   You know what really blesses me about my husband?  The fact that when the girls are old enough to fully understand just who our Heavenly Father is, they will have a proper view of Him.  That's HUGE! Just because my farmer took the time to love them like a real man should.  Maybe they will miss out on some of the teen angst that is running rampant in this world.  Simply because their Daddy took the time to imagine Bethlehem with them. Because he crouches down to their level looks them in the eye and tells them that they're beautiful.  Because he listens with his heart and not just his ears.  They know that Daddy values them and that they are safe with him.

   Oh, don't get me wrong, the man is not perfect.  He has his parenting "moments" when the well of patience has run dry or it just takes too much energy to keep up with the girls.  He's made mistakes.  But he doesn't give up and I love that about him.

   Our Heavenly Abba deserves some praise too this Father's Day.  The picture of my hubby crouched down with arms open wide, pure joy radiating from his face as he waits for our daughters to reach him is a pretty accurate portrayal of our Heavenly Father.  At least that's how I imagine Him to be.  No matter where I've been or how I've messed up, He welcomes me with a smile, arms wide open, eager to embrace me.  I love the intimacy of that picture.  After my man scoops the girls up into his arms, he talks to them.  He listens as they tell him what's on their little hearts.  Just like God does for me.

      

   But God is perfect.  He doesn't make parenting mistakes.  He's got the toughest love imaginable.  His patience is endless.  His mercy is great.  His faithfulness is unchangeable.  

   I'm grateful to my Heavenly Father for not giving up on me when I sin over and over or when I fail to obey right away.  I struggle with doubt and fear, but God just keeps lovingly proving Himself to me again and again.  Because He is good.

   God does that thing that all good parents do, He works in the back round of our lives putting up a protecting hand here, averting a crisis there.  It'll be interesting to see someday all of the little things our Abba has quietly done for us that we have absolutely no clue about. 

   

   Sometimes I wonder how many times He has made a drunk pass out before climbing behind the wheel of a car.  Saving not only their life, but my life and the lives of my children too.  

   How many times has He directed highway traffic in such a way so that I can safely turn my tractor and grain cart across traffic without hitting a driver coming from behind who wants to pass my slow moving rig?  I can't see behind me, so I always pray that no one is trying to pass me and hold my breath as I make the turn.  So far we've been good.  It's been close a time or two, but no disasters.  That is definitely my Heavenly Abba's care.  Definitely.  

   Thanks Abba, for your care for us.  Thanks for protecting us in ways we probably don't even realize.  Thanks for loving us no matter what.  Thanks for not giving up on us and seeing our potential when we feel like there's no hope for us.  Thanks for welcoming us with open arms and a genuine smile.  Thanks for being excited about us.  We are grateful.

   

   Happy Father's Day Love.

You're the best!

    

   

   

Graduations & Weddings Oh My!

   This last week has been busy, but fun!  The girls and I traveled to my hometown to celebrate with my niece Heidi.  After four years of hard work and nights spent studying instead of sleeping, she has graduated from college!  She is a full fledged elementary teacher!  So proud of that girl!

The beautiful graduate!

My Kiddo just liked the hat.  And the tassel.

   She will be a wonderful teacher!  She has the patience of Job and kindness is woven into her DNA.  She loves little people and has an unusual knack for entertaining while slipping in educational tidbits here and there!  The school that hires her will definitely have one of the best teachers anywhere!

   So, we traveled out for her graduation, and then stayed at Grandma's for a few days before loading up and making the trek to Indiana for Victor's (Heidi's brother) wedding.  

   Heidi rode with me in my van and very skillfully entertained my two little squirts while I desperately tried to keep up with Charity in the lead car.  That girl... she drives like it's the Indy 500!  I admire her driving capabilities, but it's not a gift I possess.  Apparently.  

   Anyway, we arrived in one piece and got to help with the reception preparations.  It was so much fun!  The bride is a super organized woman and had stuff well prepared.  We swooped in and got to help with putting some of the last minute details together. 

   While being really organized, Chantelle (the bride) has a knack for decorating and making ordinary things elegant.  She has an eye for beauty.

   The reception was held in an old glass factory.  The brick walls added character and charm.  It really was beautiful.

Because I have absolutely no abilities with a camera,
I wasn't able to capture just how neat it really was.  They hung
chandeliers from the ceiling all over the large room.
Over the wedding party table, they hung lights and greenery with
branches.  It looked super neat.

My sister grew about a hundred or so baby tears plants.
She found old glass ware at garage sales and second hand stores
and they grew them in pretty pots.
Meanwhile, Chantelle planted "grass" in similar pretty pots.
While we were there, one of our jobs was to "mow" the grass.
Loved her table decorations!

The factory had big windows and this is one of the ledges
that was decorated.

And one more reason that we love Chantelle, she made a special
place for the kiddies to hang out.  I've heard that a lot of people
are starting to have weddings that ban the children.  I think it's a shame.
Children are a part of us.  They are the future brides and grooms.
We need to include them.  Yes, they can sometimes ruin a special
moment, but it's memories.  It's all good memories.  That's one thing that I
appreciate about the bride, she realizes this and makes a point to let
the littles know that they are important to her.

   And my girls were privileged to be flower girls in the wedding.

Talking about little people ruining a special moment, my
little J.J. absolutely refused to look at the camera for
pictures and wouldn't even look at Victor or Chantelle both
of whom she absolutely adores.  (Sigh) The stinker.

My handsome Farmer and the reluctant girl herself.  

The beautiful Cherry Berry!

The delightful Miss Emilee.  I must say,
I have some of the sweetest and nicest nieces and nephews!

Sister lovin's!  They were so cute, but also very
tired.  Which is why the reluctance to smile or even
look in the general direction of the photographer.

   We were all lined up and ready to go down the aisle when I was told that if J.J. wouldn't go on her own that I would have to lead her down the aisle.  I began to pray fervently that the little pipsqueak would go on her own!  I didn't really want to have to escort them down the aisle.  But at the last minute J.J. balked and I had to take her hand and walk them down the aisle.  Oh, well, memories!

   Their wedding was truly unique!  They wanted to portray the picture of Christ coming for His bride one day.  So instead of the groom waiting at the front, the bride went down the aisle first and waited for her groom.  The music swelled and Victor's twin announced, "Behold the bridegroom cometh!".  It was really neat.  They are a couple who are seeking to follow Christ with their everything.  Jesus was the center of the day.  Pretty neat. 

This is the beautiful bride and her handsome hubby!  

   I must say that it is kind of strange to think that my nephew is married.  I mean wasn't it just a few days ago that they were born?  I remember it well.  I was SO excited to have twin nephews!  I could not wait to get to the hospital to see them.  They were so cute!

   Heidi and I used to do tricks with them.  Flipping them over our arms and swinging them around.  We used to dress them up like little girls (This was when they were small and defenseless.  Poor guys.)  We used to mess with their minds and try to get them to believe outrageous things. 

   I distinctly remember the day that I realized that it probably wasn't a good idea to pick on them anymore.  They were about 10 and I challenged them.  Bad idea.  They took me down and sat on me.  In less than it took for me to write that sentence.  

   Now they are 6'4" and extremely handsome.  I love them both dearly.  They are awesome men of God and diligently seek to honor Him.  I pray that God blesses them abundantly!  I pray that someday my children will have the same desire to live for Christ that I see in my nieces and nephews.  My sister and brother-in-law did an excellent job of raising their arrows.  They're not perfect any of them, but they are all diligent Christ followers.

I caught my two little people holding hands on
the way home.  It warms my heart to see them love each
other without being prompted or coerced.  They are the
closest of sisters and I love it!

   After 11 days of living out of a suitcase, I'm grateful to be home.  We had a lot of fun, but home is always a welcome sight.  God was good to us.  We didn't have car trouble, no accidents, and no sickness.  May God be praised!

Happy Mother's Day

   Guess what?  I learned how to use our scanner!  (I'm not particularly tech savvy.)  This knowledge will make some smile, some howl, and others wish for my extermination.  But because I'm the author of this blog, I get to do what I wanna do! 

   Since it's almost Mother's day, I wanted to write a tribute of sorts to my mom and mother-in-law.  Because they are just the best!

   I was a surprise to my family.  When my sister was 20 and my brother 15, my mom started to feel really yucky.  Finally she decided to go to the doctor to see what the problem was.  After running a few tests, the doctor came back to the exam room with a huge grin.  Mom was a bit miffed at his bright smile because after all, she felt rotten.  

   Dr. Beckman put his hand on her knee and gave it a pat.  Then he told her the good news!  You can actually read about it in, Chicken Soup for the Soul, From Lemons to Lemonade.  Because yes, she is a published author!  But trust me, her story is the only good one in the whole book.  And no, I am not a lemon.  If I am, I'm the sweetest one God ever made. 

Me at 2 months old with Mom.  I know, I know,
I'm just a doll! ;)

   I was never any trouble at all!

   Okay, so that's not quite true.  The above picture is of me playing in the puddle left after someone had showered.  If I remember correctly, I was dressed and ready to go to church.  Ain't I cute! 

   Maybe that's why when I tell Mom all the antics that my girls pull, she just laughs.  She tells me that I deserve it.  I think that's kind of mean of her myself.  

   I'd like to thank my mom for keeping me alive.  No!  Really!  I never realized just how much of a challenge that can be until I had children of my own.  The first year of life is intense!  I remember hitting the first birthday of each of my girls and giving a sigh of relief from my toes.  We had made it!  They were healthy, strong, and happy and I was extremely relived.  

   So thanks Mom for walking the floor for hours with a colicky baby.  Thanks for taking care of diaper rash and not killing me when I was teething and grumpy.  Thanks for being my stability when I learned to walk.  Thanks for teaching me how to praise.  My mom always had a song on her lips.  She still does!

   I remember her playing endless games of slapjack with me.  I loved the game and couldn't understand why she wasn't enjoying herself.  Thanks for sewing me dresses for school.  Thanks for making me bean bags so that I could imagine new games and then make you play them with me!  

   Thanks for teaching me about Jesus.  Thank you for being a good example of Christs' love.  Thanks for sending me to a Christian School.  Thanks for not forcing me to make Valentine's boxes year after year.  (You can read about that here.)  Thanks for teaching me about responsibility and how to not shirk my duties.  Thanks for teaching me the importance of keeping my word.

  Oh yeah, and thanks for all those wonderful "Momisms" that I find myself repeating to the girls.  I hear myself telling the girls, "Look at the room.  What's out of place?  Let's put it all back where it needs to be."  If I've heard that once from you, I've heard it a thousand times since.  It's like a broken record in my head.

   Thanks too for teaching me how to be a supportive wife.  I can remember riding on the hayrack as you drove the tractor and baled hay while Dad stacked it.  I recall how you worked right alongside Dad everyday whether it was in the field or keeping house, you did what had to be done and you did it well.  Now I realize just how great it is to work beside my farmer and help with what I can.  You taught me that. 

   

This is the inner tube from a combine or tractor tire.
They are extremely fun to bounce on.  Mom even got in on the fun
sometimes.  She could make me fly!

She always used to make me take a nap with her in her
chair.  Somehow she'd get up while I was still sleeping
and leave.  It always used to make me mad to wake up
and not have her there.  How she ever got up without waking me up
I'll never know.

Birthday no.6.  Mom made the dress that I'm wearing.
Note to my family: do you see the hamburgers?
(Mom, I may never forgive you for my awful bangs.)

Mom with one of her favorite Grandsons!

Tea party at Grandma's house!  

   We love you Mom!

   And when one is paying tribute, one must always remember the blessing of a mother-in-law!

   My mother-in-law is the best!  She is a retired nurse (which often comes in really handy) and an extremely good cook.  She is creative and loves to make the girls things and do projects with them!  She is the main babysitter and I love how the girls just adore her.  I hope that they can pick up and emulate her kindness, her giving spirit, and the quiet calm that she exudes.  She's a hard worker and loyal friend.

   

She will sit for hours and read to the girls.
They love it!

   She did an excellent job of raising my farmer.  He's a really good guy and I'm sure that a lot of it is her doing.  

I believe that my hubby was 4 days old in this picture.
I was as yet a twinkle in God's eye. 

My hubby is the baby, his big brother, and Mama.

Isn't he just adollable!  I so want to pinch his cheeks!

   From baking and decorating birthday cakes to making meals and delivering them to the field, she's pretty much awesome.  I don't like to cook.  So, she very sweetly takes over and works her tail off making food for her family.

  So, thank you for being so willing to babysit at a moments notice.  Thank you for loving our girls and taking time for them.  Thank you for making many, many delicious meals for our family.  Thank you for all the work you do for us.  Making applesauce, nightgowns, pillows, and jam.  For helping me can chicken, green beans, and put up sweet corn.  For rounding up strawberries every year and helping us with them.  For helping me with the garden work.  And so, so much more.  We appreciate you.  A lot!  I could not make it without you.  

The girls in their new pajama's that Grandma made!
Complete with morning hair.

   Thank you for raising your son to be a man of God.  For teaching him how to love.  For teaching him how to put others first.  For being a Godly example.  For praying for us.  We love you! 

  And best of all, because of you two, we get this...

   I agree, it doesn't get much better than that! 

Happy Mother's Day!