Half A Year Down and an Olympic Strategy

My girls have gone on a mission's trip for the next four days and I have the house to myself during the daytime. Bliss!

I posted in January that I wanted to get back to blogging on a regular basis, but since that was only three posts ago, you can see it didn't happen as I had hoped. I had health issues and travel throughout January, February and March. Then in April and May, I went to my parents' house in Virginia to help out as much as I could.  I returned in mid-June to help care for my Dad in the hospital, which I did for over two weeks, but sadly, he passed away on July 2nd. I then spent a couple more weeks with my mom helping her through the funeral, with events in two states, and then in transitioning to living alone. I came home this past weekend. At this point, 2016 has been a blur.

Have you ever had years like that? I'm weary. Weary, but not without hope or peace. My father was a strong believer in Jesus Christ and longed to go to heaven. I miss him desperately; we were kindred spirits and he was the one person in my life who "spoke my language."(meaning "blunt!")

I know grief takes time and that the amount of crying will diminish, but I came home with the desire to LIVE.  I journaled today that I'm tired of my procrastination, excuse-making and apathy. I'm tired of the sabotages, by others, but mostly by myself. I'm tired of my sinful disobedience. I've thought that I'm being too hard on myself during this time of grief, but I don't think so. I think I need to use it as a wake-up call. If not now, when? I am giving myself grace each day; I'm not striving for perfection, but I am striving for growth. Striving for more self-discipline. Praying for His help in this area since it is a Fruit of the Spirit.

Life is short. I don't want to waste it.

My husband and I put together a video montage of my dad's life. He accomplished a lot and went to many places around the world. His life was full. If I had to put together a montage of my life so far, would I be pleased? In some ways yes, in other ways, no. I know we'd all say that, including my Dad, but I'm just hungry for purposeful living. Not for hanging out on the couch watching tv. Not for playing computer games because I don't want to dust, mop or clean a bathroom. Can anyone relate?

I had to laugh to myself, because while I feel this way, I do acknowledge that the Olympics begin on August 5th. When the Olympics are broadcasted, the tv is on every night in our house (and sometimes during the daytime).  We sit and watch other people strive for their dreams and fight for the goals they've sought to achieve. While we S-I-T.  I just don't know if I can do that right now, but my youngest daughter has just entered the world of competitive gymnastics and I certainly can't put a ban on watching Gabby Douglas or Simone Biles. Those female athletes fuel the dreams of my child! So, what do I do?

As you can imagine, being away from home for over a month has made my to-do list insanely long. I am overwhelmed by all the tasks screaming for attention. I've been methodically plodding away (more often than not trying to check the urgent ones off the list), but I've felt like I don't have any time for me. When you are in the first stages of grief, you need ME TIME, for sure. Yesterday I spent 1 hour working on the to-do list, then 1 hour doing something that filled my spirit. When I hit the month-long mail pile that took 2.5 hours to get through, I turned on a DIY show as background noise. It was hard not to enjoy the mail while watching Vanilla Ice doing crazy things to a house!  The idea of going back and forth really worked for me and I'm going to try to employ that give and take until we get back into our school routine for the fall.

A long to-do list is still a lot of mental pressure for me. I can feel sick to my stomach. So today I came up with a question to ask myself when looking down the list, "If this task had to wait, what's the worst that could happen?" I just need to prioritize and I think that question will help.

Back to the Olympics...sometime before the 5th, I'm going to dig out a highlighter and mark what tasks can be done while sitting with my family watching the Olympics. Crocheting is nice, but I need to get some things done.  Thank you notes can be written, email can be cleaned out, photos can be edited and saved, bills can be paid, magazines can be looked through, ironing can get done. (blech!) If I purpose to do what I can, I can still enjoy watching others reach for their dreams without guilt!

Do you have any tricks/ways that help you live with purpose? I'd love to hear about them.

Thanks for stopping by,

Good-bye 2014!

At first I was surprised how gleeful I felt in closing out 2014, but as I look back over the year, the reality of what occurred made the sendoff evoke more of a "duh" response.  

I haven't blogged for months. The life I have been living has been difficult so that sharing ANYTHING, whether it be about my circumstances or just disconnected trivial fodder, was impossible.  Some of my readers are directly impacted by the same experiences so even if I wanted to get on my blog and share my point-of-view, it would have probably been misconstrued and caused more problems.  So, I greatly longed to just have 2014 come to an end! Hasta la vista!!

There have been many lessons learned in 2014 and I wish I could have seen beyond myself to share them with you along the way, but this has probably been the second hardest year of my life. I just didn't have it in me to share the journey, except with a few close friends and family. I've often questioned whether it meant that I could truly be vulnerable, transparent, etc.  There have been a lot of questions and life lessons, but in it, I have grown fond of the phrase in Luke that says Mary, the mother of Jesus, "pondered these things in her heart." That's what I've had to do over and over again. 

You live through hard times, you ponder what it all means and it can sometimes feel like you will never leave the dark cave.  I miss blogging and reading the blogs of other friends/family, but I could never seem to find a way out of the dark and get back to the lightheartedness I enjoyed in the sharing of everyday life.  Then yesterday happened...the last day of the year.

I ended up in the emergency room about 7:30am. I have bad knees, and while sometimes they've slowed me down, they've never stopped me in my tracks. Yesterday I could not bear weight on my left leg and the pain was about a 12 on the 1-10 scale. So off we went to the ER.  I'm so thankful that there were not, as far as we could tell, any torn ligaments, but the x-ray did reveal several problems, the most comprehensive diagnosis that I have moderate-severe osteoarthritis. I was told my episodes with my knees were not going to get better, only worse and that I needed to make friends with an orthopedist. I was sent home with heavy-duty pain meds and instructions to rest. 

The last day of the year gave entertainment to all who had any interaction with the highly-medicated me. From the hospital receptionist when asking for my credit card to pay my co-pay and asked if "she could get that for me?" and I answered, "Oh, sure, you want to pay my bill?" (Mark gasped a little!) to my daughter who said that in my sleep I said, "I want to get in a long boat with Ashley and eat corndogs." What??  I also asked why the cow's nose was so long (not a cow in sight!) and asked if I could purchase a devotional for one of my daughter's Jr. High male friends. She assured me he probably already had one and I answered like a scolded two-year-old, "Ok, fine!"  Dec. 31st was filled with laughter at my expense, but I know it had to be pretty entertaining. I do remember saying, "I think I'm a nicer person on drugs!" Let's hope not!

While it made a memorable end to 2014, overnight I gave up the narcotics and switched to OTC drugs so I haven't been quite as entertaining today. Thank goodness!

Somehow yesterday's events summed up my year for me. 2014 was hard and painful, but if you didn't find something to keep you laughing and give you hope, you weren't going to make it. People have been helpful along the way and maybe that's what I should have written about, but sometimes the pain is so overwhelming, you can only hold on to the hope for yourself. It's beyond you to share it.

I pray that 2015 will bring a little more rest and healing. The Lord has been ever faithful in 2014. He HAS healed those who I dearly love and were near death. He has carried us to a new state and a completely new way of life. He has been a friend that sticks closer to a brother when there were no friends readily available. He has given me purpose when what I thought was my purpose was taken from me. He has given me a joy and hunger for Him, because when you desperately need Him, HE CAN BE FOUND.  He has promised His love is far greater and far more reaching than my own so that when I don't have any more to give, He is there to fill in the gaps.  He IS faithful!

So, while I emotionally can't rehash the events of 2014, I look to 2015 with joy and praise Him for what He will do. It will surely be filled with His amazing works, no matter the circumstances.

Twins

After explaining that the children of friends of ours are adopted this conversation happened with my youngest daughter at the dinner table.

Tara: "I wondered why their skin is so dark when Mom and Dad aren't dark! I thought maybe their grandmas or grandpas were dark."

Mom: "No, they were adopted from another country."

(There are three children in the family, 2 teenage boys and a 9-year-old girl.)

Tara: "Are they all brothers and sisters?"

Mom: "Well, the boys are twins so, yes, they are brothers, but the girl is not related to them."

Tara: "They're twins?"

Mom: "Yes, Tara. They're identical twins - that's why they look alike."

Tara: "Oh, they're not turtle twins?"

Mom: "What?"

Tara: "They're not turtle twins?"

Mom, laughing, "What's a turtle twin?"

Tara: "You know, they're twins."

Mom: "Do you mean fraternal twins? Ones that don't necessarily look alike?"

Tara: "No, turtle twins. I heard it on tv."

We're all just laughing now.

Tara: "No, really! I did! I think it was on Zack and Cody."

Mom: "Ah, the wisdom of Zack & Cody! Tara, it's called FRATERNAL twins."

Tara: "Well, I like turtle twins better."

This was the springboard for the scientific explanation of egg-splitting and the way we get two kinds of twins.  That edged too closely to a talk about sex for the 19-year-old so thus ended the conversation.

Just another day at the Martens...

New Experience/Old Movie

Have you ever watched an old movie for the umptieth time and responded to it in a new way?

That happened to me last night as I watched

Barefoot in the Park is a great '60's film starring Robert Redford and Jane Fonda.  Last night I was strolling through the new releases on Netflix and came across this old classic. I've seen this movie many times, most often identifying with the different character traits of both husband and wife depending on the circumstances.  However, last night I identified with a new character, the mother of the bride. 

You see, my oldest daughter left Pennsylvania on Thursday towing a UHaul with all her and her husband's belongings and are trekking across the country to settle in Colorado so they can attend seminary. 

She's moving away.

I've had moments of sadness and tears, but they been coupled with joy, knowing that my children are following the Lord's leading and embarking on their new life together in a new place.

As I watched Jane Fonda's character so desperately want the approval of their new apartment from her mother, a stinky little place with no room for a real bed, a hole in the ceiling that allows the snow to fall into the living room and the 6 flights of stairs, I got teary and said aloud, "That's Ashley on Saturday!"

My daughter and son-in-law will have their first real apartment today and I know they will love it! I loved mine and it was a hole-in-the-wall. Their first apartment is sure to be much better.  They have texted details along their journey and arrived safely, but I wish I could be like the mom in Barefoot in the Park, there in person to gush my approval and be an encouragement.  In time we will visit, but for now I wish them well!

It's funny how we can experience a movie or a song differently when our circumstances change. I enjoy the evolution, but it certainly makes me feel old. If you haven't seen Barefoot in the Park, I highly recommend it!

X- Xanthemia

Now that we are about to embark upon the tanning season are you ready to face all the fake-n-bakes? Or would that be Fakin' Bakes? Yep, both. (I googled!)

Anywhoo...while I was looking for a cool "X" word to write a clever post about, I came across this word:

xanthemia: excess carotene in the blood stream; can cause the skin to turn a pale yellow-red color.

It reminded me of a past experience.

In his lifetime my father-in-law had suffered with a condition called spastic (or Spasmodic) dysphonia.

Spasmodic dysphonia is a voice disorder characterized by involuntary movements or spasms of one or more muscles of the larynx (vocal folds or voice box) during speech.

In adductor spasmodic dysphonia (ADSD), sudden involuntary muscle movements or spasms cause the vocal folds (or vocal cords) to slam together and stiffen. These spasms make it difficult for the vocal folds to vibrate and produce voice. Words are often cut off or difficult to start because of the muscle spasms. Therefore, speech may be choppy and sound similar to stuttering. The voice of an individual with adductor spasmodic dysphonia is commonly described as strained or strangled and full of effort. Surprisingly, the spasms are usually absent while laughing, speaking at a high pitch, or speaking while singing, but singers can experience a loss of range or the inability to produce certain notes of a scale or with projection. Stress, however, often makes the muscle spasms more severe. (wikipedia)

On several occasions Dad went to see a specialist for this disorder and he had some success in it's treatment.  We were all thrilled that he found someone who could help him speak, especially since my father-in-law was a pastor! His voice was his livelihood.

Usually Dad would travel to see the Doc, but one time he said that the Doc would be stopping by the church (where we all worked) so we would be able to meet him. We were all anxious to thank him for taking such good care of Dad. I'm sure we figured it would be interesting to hear how he had become a specialist in this field.  We looked forward to his arrival.

When the Dr. arrived at the church we met in the auditorium. To our surprise we found a man that looked similar to this one -

Seriously!

Now the man in the picture I believe has a Fakin' Bake (spray on tan, maybe?), but our Dr. was orange because he was a carrot juicing fanatic.  He has what we call Xanthemia!  Literally, the man was orange because he juiced/drank so many carrots over a long period of time that it turned his skin orange.

Needless to say, we wished Dad had warned us. Cause what can you do/say when you are faced with an orange man? I think we mumbled some thanks, but in our minds all we could think was, "This man is ORANGE!" Ca-razy, I tell ya. Ca-razy! (Thanks, Joyce, for the spelling!)

While I like myself some fake tan (the lotion in a bottle kind), I try to take a second look before I go out in public so I don't end up looking like the ORANGE man. If I ever do, I hope someone will do more than mumble thanks my way.  Who knew "X" could stand for orange!

Earthquake

How crazy was yesterday's earthquake in Virginia?!

My husband is a San Diego boy and we lived in California for the first 12 years of our marriage.

I've lived through this:

The 1992 Landers earthquake was a magnitude 7.3 earthquake that occurred on June 28, 1992 with an epicenter near the town of Landers, California. The quake was described at the time as the largest earthquake to have occurred in the contiguous United States in 40 years. At 04:57 local time on June 28, 1992, a large quake awoke much of Southern California. Though it turned out to not be the so-called "Big One," it was nonetheless a very powerful earthquake. The shaking lasted for two to three minutes. Although this earthquake was much more powerful than the 1994 Northridge earthquake, its location out in the Mojave Desert meant that damage and loss of life were significantly less than what they could have been. (Wikipedia)

The morning of the Landers quake I awoke from my bed feeling the earth ROLL under my feet. It was terrifying! I was a Midwest girl who had sought shelter from many tornadoes in her lifetime, but there was no preparing for this. My natural instinct was to run! I ran screaming and grabbed my sleeping two year-old out of her crib. I ran to the front door and stood screaming in the doorway. From there I watched the earth roll under the street and stood glued in my spot as the power lines swayed ominously. I didn't want to be INSIDE, but I didn't want to go OUTSIDE either.

On the other hand, my husband, who had lived through many quakes, awoke as I ran frantically from the bedroom and looked up to see if anything on the wall would fall on his head (his first response from a near-miss as a child.) As my hysteria continued he thought, "Well, I guess I'll have to get up!" Such compassion! Needless to say, I was shaken after that earthquake. An aftershock later that morning made my washing machine "walk" toward me and I was hysterical again.

It's only funny now.

All over the local news and Facebook people were talking about yesterday's 5.8 quake in Virginia. The big question - where were you when it happened? Uh...in the bathroom. How embarrassing! As the house started to shake, I thought calmly, "Oh a quake!" I thought I'd just wait it out. Then it really started to shake and I thought about the structural issues of our townhouse and blurted out loud, "Oh, Lord, please, don't let our house come down!" I ran down the stairs shouting for my family members who had already congregated in the backyard. My husband exclaimed, "That was a good one for Virginia!" (like he was so proud of our state!) He makes me laugh. I was again shaken and started crying, "I HATE those things!" I was not so proud of our state!

Earthquakes are a poignant reminder that our life is not our own. At a moment's notice it could change and I was reminded again about priorities. At the dinner table we talked about the spiritual condition of our neighbors and felt the impetus to do more in sharing Christ, because we just don't know when things will change. Sometimes a natural disaster is good for reminding us that God is in control. I'm so glad I KNOW HIM and can TRUST HIM, no matter the outcome.

Mother's Sheep

Last night my Muslim Turkish neighbor had the kid's and I over to visit with her guest, a young man who is visiting for the summer to learn English at the local community college.  We had a wonderful time talking about our different cultures and sharing our different perspectives.

At one point in the conversation, he asked me about homeschooling. You could tell that he thought it was highly unusual and was a little confrontational, but after homeschooling for 16 years, it's not like I haven't had to defend explain my choice. I was happy to share my reasons with him, including that I believed that God has uniquely made each of my children and that I can give them time and encouragement to focus on their strengths and God-given talents and abilities.  BTW, I think each of us as parents can do that, no matter what kind of school choice we make.  It was just one of the reasons I stated.

The guest listened politely, but then commented that Rhett was a "mother's sheep."  Through interpretation I realized he was saying that my son was a "Momma's Boy" because he spent all day at home with his Momma.  To a Muslim man, I'm sure it seems that way.  I assured this young man, that although my son (who was sitting right beside me!) was taught at home, he was truly manly. I cited things that my husband had taught him and how he was just about to complete his Eagle Scout award.  Of course, much of the conversation was lost in translation and we had a wonderful time visiting, but I awoke this morning thinking about the connection between last night's conversation and a prayer that was shared in the Father's Day message at church on Sunday.

A Father Prayer by General Douglas MacArthur
(May 1952)

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

Then, I, his father, will dare to whisper, have not lived in vain.

I have spent my life dedicated to mothering a son who will grow into a man of God who will seek the Lord wholeheartedly and be gentle in spirit/strong in character.  I want a son who can do "manly" stuff with the best of them, but be kind enough to have compassion on those who need it.(often his three sisters.) Yes, he's been surrounded by girls day in and day out; that's why we are involved in Boy Scouts. Only men, like my husband and other godly Dad's, can teach our boys how to be the men they're supposed to be, but I can promise you, my son will know the ins-and-outs of living with women.

He's my treasure, but more importantly, He's the sheep of the Lord's, not his Momma's.

Psalm 100:3

Know that the LORD, He is God;It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.

A Daughter's Wedding

Ashley makes a beautiful bride ready for her day.

Proud Mom!

Maid of Honor - Jessica (friend-long hair)

Bridesmaids: Chelsea (friend)

Katie (Sister on right)

Flower Girls: Tara (Sister on left)

Emma (TJ's sister-front center)

TJ (Groom - top)

Ben (Best Man - 2nd from top)

Caleb (TJ's brother - 2nd from bottom)

Peter (Friend - bottom)

Rhett (my son), plays for the ceremony

Proud Dad walks Ashley down the aisle.

Exchanging Vows

Unity Rock (Rock-climbing themed wedding)

TJ made a rock they could hook their carabiners into, signifying their unity with Jesus Christ, The Rock and each other.

Introducing the happy couple

Ashley enjoyed greeting guests as they left for the reception.

(I wanted you to see her headpiece too!)

Away to the reception

(or a short trip around town before coming back to the church for pictures)

The bride with her sisters, Tara (L) and Katie (R)

This one makes me cry.

The couple with proud parents

Arriving at the reception

So in love!

The lovely reception was held in the Groom's family  backyard.

At first they were nice...

but that wouldn't be like them.

You got something on your face!

First dance

TJ and Ashley Parnell.

May the Lord bless your marriage.

We love you both!

A Father's Passing

Thursday night we received the call that Mark's father passed away from a massive heart attack while reading his Bible in preparation for Sunday's sermon.

It has been a whirlwind of activity, phone calls, and little rest ever since.

My husband, Mark, is the oldest of five children and flew yesterday from Virginia to California to take care of his Mom and all the arrangements. We will follow soon.

At this time, words are hard. Tears are flowing. Mom and Dad were just with us last week for a visit. In the previous post you can see them playing a board game with us. Life can change in an instant.

Life will change in an instant a few times in our lives. If we have the Lord, He carries us beautifully through. How do others do it without Him? I can't imagine.

There are so many details that the Lord is orchestrating perfectly and I want to share them with you, but I'm too tired to think, let alone write at the moment. I will do my best to share His faithfulness with you soon.

If you feel led to pray, please ask for wisdom and strength for Mark and safety for family and friends who will be traveling, some even from the other side of the world. And, of course, comfort for the family.

Thank You!

Remembering a Friend, Part 2

There's something I didn't tell you in Part One that adds to the story.

Kenny had been born with Cerebral Palsy and had two twisted legs that could walk with the aid of a crutch. He was in constant pain, but never complained. He hated being treated special in any way. He did almost everything a 25-year-old young man could do, except play sports. He made up for that with his passion for basketball and baseball and was a great encouragement as coach to the athletes on his college teams.

Kenny was also brilliant! He was at the top of his class academically and was smart as a whip. I tend to find intelligence attractive so we made a good pair. I've often wondered what smart men found in me! :) We quickly fell into a routine of dates that would start out at a sporting event and end parked somewhere discussing anything from politics, to philosophy to the Bible. We LOVED to talk and found each other's conversation quite stimulating. Very quickly Kenny became one of my best friends. He was a safe place to float ideas and work through thoughts.

Anyway, I started telling you all about our dating relationship because of the outfit I wore in my senior picture. We had only been dating a few months when Kenny took me out to dinner to a nice restaurant. On our way back home he parked the car in the small urban park that surrounded our County Courthouse. The trees sparkled with small white lights in the darkness of night. Honestly, I got a little nervous (he seemed nervous), but then he pointed out something through my window. I looked away, but when I looked back at him he had placed a beautiful lavender glass heart necklace over the rear view mirror. It glistened in the sparkling lights. He then put the music from Somewhere In Time on with his cassette player and began reading me a story. The story was about a prince who had been lost and a princess who rescued him. She had captured his heart. It was sooo romantic! After he read the story he took the necklace off the mirror and put it around my neck. He said, "You know what would look good with that?" I said, "What?" He answered, "Look in the back seat." There he had laid out this gray suit and burgundy blouse. Wow! I couldn't believe that he had purchased an outfit for me. I was a giddy school girl and he loved it!

I will be honest that I didn't like gray and NEVER chose to wear that color. I loved burgundy and gave it a try when I got home. I LOVED it! I wore the outfit for several years and often thought of the romantic way it was given to me. I think that's the only outfit he ever purchased for me. It certainly was the only one that sticks in my memory, but what a sweet memory it is. I still have the necklace. In telling you this story, I pulled it out of my jewelry box and looked at it fondly - remembering a dear friend.

Kenny and I continued dating for 2 1/2 years. I dated a few other boys during that time, but the summer before going off to college (after I was 18!) Kenny dropped hints that he was serious about our relationship. In hindsight, he was on the marriage fast-track, but I was somewhat oblivious to how serious he was getting. That was until one night as he dropped me off at my door, he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. He said a hurried good-bye and rushed out to his car. I remember closing the door and thinking, "Oh, no...that was like kissing my brother!" Really.

During that summer my parents had released the rule of dating monthly. Our family had moved to within an hour of his college so we were seeing each other weekly. The next time we saw each other we knew all was not well. We talked about the kiss and came to the realization that God had given us a friendship, but that marriage was probably not His plan for us. In some ways I think it broke both of our hearts. We were buddies! We could talk about anything, but marriage takes more than an understanding of the minds and that's all we had. We dated a few more weeks, but our story ended soon after I went off to college several hours away from him.

My mom made the observation that maybe the Lord brought us together so that I would be protected and would have a wonderful example of dating and the opportunity for Kenny to do a little growing up. Although he would say he didn't want to be treated differently because of his disability, he actually had to own up to his words when I would wait in the car for him to get my door or wait at a table for him to pull out my chair. It surprised him, but he loved it and I think it made him a better man to have someone believe that he really didn't need to be treated any differently than anyone else.

Kenny went on to date others and got married, just as I did. I entitled these posts as Remembering a Friend because Kenny is no longer living, but the sweet memories I have of our friendship will always remain with me. I know someday I'll get to see him walk with perfect legs on streets of gold. What a joy that will be!

Remembering a friend

In the Random Dozen on Wednesday I posted my senior picture and mentioned that my boyfriend had purchased the outfit I wore. I was surprised that tidbit of information sparked interest, but I thought today I'd share the "back story." I have a feeling you'll enjoy that even more. It's a little long, but stay with me. I think you'll be glad you did.

As a teenager my parents said that when I turned 16 yrs old I would be allowed to date. I was generally boy crazy most of my life and was looking forward to going out on actual dates.

As a young girl I had given my heart to Jesus and grew in faith and understanding. Although I was excited about dating I truly ONLY wanted to date who the Lord would choose for me so I began praying regularly at the age of fifteen, several months before my 16th birthday, for the Lord to reveal His choice for me. Innocently I probably thought He would reveal someone around the time of my birthday - what a nifty present a "knight" would be, but the Lord began teaching me early to wait for HIS timing. (Remember these are the musings of a self-absorbed teenager!) My March birthday came and went. I prayed a little more fervently. (smile!)

In late July I went to a youth conference several hours away from home. It was a multi-day event sponsored by a Christian college. I did NOT have the dating prayer request on my mind because all the boys from my church who went to the conference had already been brought before the Lord and found wanting. (Oh, this is so revealing-what an attitude I had!)

There was a young man from our home church who had graduated with a undergrad degree and a Master's degree and was working at the college. Kenny had come to our church on a bus route as a young boy and was the only believer in his family. Our senior pastor had taken him under wing and he had flourished. Kenny usually found our high school group each year at the conference and would act as host - giving us good intel on how to beat the long lines, where to get fast food, etc. We all enjoyed his humor and company. This year, however, he did not find us right away.

Late into day two in the middle of a sermon as I was sitting in the balcony I looked down upon the crowd and saw Kenny sitting with another group. Immediately I felt the Lord impress upon me that Kenny was the person I was to date. "What? That didn't make any sense, Lord! He's a MAN!" I tried to dismiss the thought. Nah! That's crazy thinking, girl!

Following the message Kenny found his way up to our group in the balcony and apologized for getting to us so late in the conference. He had been tasked to host another group, but wanted to check in on us. My heart was pounding and I just kept looking at him and thinking, "There is NO WAY this is the answer." Throughout the rest of the conference Kenny did not make it back to our group, but I did see him off and on throughout the building and each time the Lord was telling me, "It's HIM!" By the time I got home, my head was spinning.

After the conference our bus pulled into the church parking lot back home and inside the secretary's office we lined up to use the telephone to call our parents to come pick us up. After my call I had to wait for my parents to arrive. I noticed the light was shining under the door of our senior pastor's office. He was studying for the next day's sermons. I knocked quietly on the door and asked to speak with him. He welcomed me in and I began sobbing and telling him about my prayer request and that I thought the Lord was telling me that Kenny was the guy I was supposed to date. (Poor man!) He settled me down and then assured me that a MAN was probably NOT the answer to my request. I listened quietly, sensing in my heart that this answer, if it was from the Lord, was so unusual that God would have to do it, because it wouldn't make ANY sense on the human level.

I arrived home well past midnight and told my mom all that had transpired. If there was ever a moment of Godly wisdom (and she's had a lot of them, but this one was a biggie) Mom said, "Well, ok then, we need to continue praying about it - just you and I. Let's not tell anyone else because it doesn't make a lot of sense right now." She didn't shoot me down or discount my thoughts; she just said, "Let's keep praying." That's all I needed.

Fast forward...in September my family hosted a Labor Day picnic at my home. We had at least 50 people on our property and Kenny, whose family lived about 6 houses away, had been invited, as usual. I IGNORED him. I was so afraid of my feelings/thoughts that I steered clear away! I think he tried to speak to me once and I answered abruptly, then made a beeline for anywhere else. I was afraid he would somehow sense something and I just didn't know how to deal with the emotions of what the Lord seemed to be saying. I was not polite.

Fast forward again...a Saturday in mid-October I was traveling with my high school's marching band for a state-wide competition. We left early in the morning and wouldn't be returning until late into the night. Unbeknown to me, Kenny had phoned my parents earlier in the week mentioning that he would be home for the weekend and asked if he could take them to dinner on that night. My mom, sensing the Lord's movement, said that I would be out-of-town and he could come to our home for dinner. She did not reveal the phone call or plan to me. Then it was time for Mom to let Dad in on what had been transpiring. I assume he was a little surprised!

Kenny came for dinner that evening and said that while he was at our picnic in September he felt like the Lord was telling him, "to ask Angie out." He argued with the Lord making note that she was still a MINOR and in high school, but he couldn't get the thought out of his mind. He then mentioned, "It wasn't anything that she did that day. As a matter of fact, she actually seemed to be avoiding me, like she was angry or something." My parents asked a few more questions and then revealed to him my prayer request and answer in July. They were all stunned to see how the Lord had unveiled His plan for a 25 yr old man and a 16 yr old girl to date.

My parents gave Kenny stipulations: he could only come home once a month to date me, I was allowed to date other people and they encouraged him to do so, as well, AND if he touched me he was dead! (or prosecuted or both.) They then agreed that he should ask me to lunch after the Sunday service the next day to tell me how the Lord had moved him to ask me out.

That he did. We went to Long John Silver's for lunch. There were a few nerves, but the peace that passed all understanding was clearly evident in my heart. God had answered in a way that was unmistakeably Him. How I would need this example to rely on later in life!

I'll tell you the story of the outfit in part 2.

Stay tuned...

Remembering

Today I choose to remember and be thankful!

Today is the first birthday my grandma will miss. She would have been 81-years-old.

Last year I know my family wondered if we were celebrating her final birthday with us, but we hoped that we'd be joining her for her 81st this year. I choose this day to remember even though it's very hard and I miss her very much! She was a fantastic grandmother who loved me and my family well.

As I visited other bloggers today I saw many remembrances of our soldiers who have served, are serving or are waiting to serve. It brought to mind the last trip my grandmother ever took in 2005 to visit my parents and my family in Virginia.

Late one afternoon I took Grandma down to see the monuments which she had never visited. I thought it would be a great treat for her and it was, but I never imagined what a favored memory it would be for me.

We saw it all. I knew she'd never get back to Washington DC so we borrowed a wheelchair and chauffeured her around to all the monuments. When we got to the WWII monument we first went to the Atlantic side, then the Pacific side. Grandma began sharing where her brothers and Grandpa has been stationed. She pointed to the places of battles on the wall and would name our relatives who had been involved. Grandma was not one for history or for sharing her feelings, but that day she got teary and shared how much she worried about her brothers while they were serving. I marvelled at the thought that if my grandfather had not survived that I wouldn't even exist. The monument became even more precious to me.

We moved on down the mall toward the Lincoln Monument, but Grandma didn't want to miss seeing the Vietnam wall. There was a young man who had been in school with my mom and her siblings. His parents still resided in the small town in which we all grew up. We found his name. Grandma broke down crying which surprised me. She said that when he died the whole community felt it.

There were veterans there that day passing out paper that you could lay across a name to create a rubbing. Grandma said she wanted to create a rubbing and send it to this soldier's mother since "she'll never be able to see it." This was very unlike Grandma, but it was important to her. I saw her in a different way that day and the memory of it is very precious.

This last picture depicts the heart of my grandma. She loved her grandkids and great-grandkids. She would share with any friend or stranger something about one of her own. She was proud of us all! I remember Ashley calling home from college just a few weeks after Grandma died last November. She said, "Mom, the only person in whole world who I could tell anything to is gone. What am I going to do?" I thought, "I know exactly what you mean." I had lost her too. Grandma loved you no matter what "state" you were in; she just loved you unconditionally. What a gift!

So today I choose to remember and be thankful for the men and women who have served our country. If you are one of them, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.

I choose to remember a woman who loved me well. Her strength and stubbornness live on in me, but I also hope my grandchildren (someday) will feel the same way she made me feel - loved, no matter what.

Love you back, Grandma!

Memorial in Needlework

My grandmother passed away November 8th. She and I were very close and words can't describe how much I have missed her these past two months.

Grandma loved to embroider dish towels and she gave them away generously to friends and family alike. I have worn out several sets, knowing she would always make me a new one. She made a set for each of her grandchildren and had them put their sets away. When they grow up they will have a token of her love for them hanging in their kitchens.

Grandma had several old patterns. If you're at all familiar with this craft, you may remember cute kitties, bunnies and other animals, children in various forms, fruits, vegetables and florals. The patterns were quite nostalgic...like you were receiving a gift from the 1940's, 50's or 60's.

Last spring Grandma complained that her patterns were wearing out and that she needed new ones. I tracked several down at JoAnn's Fabric Store and sent them off to her. I sent patterns that I knew she had used before and a few new ones that were a little more up-to-date.

When Grandma passed away and I was asked what I would like to have of hers; the first thing that came to mind was the embroidery patterns. I wanted to carry on the tradition. I seem to have an affinity for this as you can see here. My mother bagged up two bundles of patterns that now sit in a pretty basket on my bookshelf and I'm looking forward to using many different designs.

Last spring I purchased a set a cotton towels, some of my own patterns, thread, needles, etc. with the thought of taking up this craft. I went to visit my grandmother in May and was hoping to have her teach me some of the different stitches. About 500 miles down the road, I realized that I had forgotten all of my supplies and thought to myself that I'd do it another time.

Then she passed away and that opportunity vanished. After returning home from the funeral I decided that I wasn't going to wait any longer. I went to the library and checked out three books. I just put my mind and hand to the task and this is what I created:




The first two towels were given as a Christmas present to someone very dear to me.

The second two towels will soon be wrapped in birthday paper and given with love.

It just seems like the thing to do. I can't keep them for myself yet; the spirit of grandma compels me to share the tradition. I miss her, but she's with me every stitch of the way!

Radom Dozen # 9

Linda over at 2nd Cup of Coffee has been doing a weekly random question/answer post. I've just been reading, but thought I'd join in this week.

1. Tell me something about your favorite teacher.

My favorite teacher was Mr. David Brown. He taught numerous business classes in the small college I attended, including Accounting. I truly cared for Mr. Brown, because he cared about me. I was usually a good student, but I really struggled with Accounting. I would go into Mr. Brown's office after hours and seek help with my homework. Often, I just didn't get it. He seemed confounded. I then explained, "Mr. Brown, when I look at the little boxes in the ledger where the numbers go, I worry more about my numbers looking pretty rather than if they are right." He gave me a knowing look and patted my arm and said, "We'll get you through it." Somehow he did!

2. Tell me about one pivotal moment in your life.

I was sitting in Chapel during my Senior year in High School. There was a visiting evangelist at my Christian school that was really ranting on and on about homosexuality. I had attended public school up through my Junior year so much of the Christian School "ways" were new to me. I remember sitting there just getting madder and madder inside. I was ready to jump up and start yelling and arguing with the preacher saying something to the effect, "Just get off it. They have a choice. It's none of our business. Why do you think a bunch of Christian High Schoolers need to hear this message?" Then a still small voice said, "Because it's sin." I was blown away. At that moment I realized that the public school system had brainwashed me with their socialistic viewpoint and that I had not been using the Bible as my source and guide by which to measure what is true. It was quite the eye-opener, to say the least.

3. About favorite colors--a lot of people will ask you what it is, but I want to know why it is. What feeling or memory does it evoke?

I adore pink and red...always have. When I was growing up my bedroom had pink walls, a floral canopy bed and red shag carpeting. I never tired of that crazy color combination!

I guess I like pink because it's so feminine to me. I look very good in pink and I just feel more cheery when I I wear that color. If you know me, cheery is a good thing!

I love red because I look good in that too. Ha! I love deep rich reds and pair it with yellow in my decorating scheme. It's just a warm color that is NOT drab. Red makes me happy too.

4. What's a sure sign that you're getting older?

What's with being all creaky when you've sat down for a couple of hours? I'll get up from my desk or from watching tv and I'm an OLD lady! I just get stiff too quickly. Plus, the gray hair...but let's not go there.

5. Please don't sermonize, but Halloween--is it a yes or no for you?

Yes!! We innocently celebrate in a fun way with our kids.

6. What's your favorite musical?

South Pacific..."Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair..." I just love her spirit!

7. Are you more of a city mouse or country mouse?

Hmmm...I have lived both and love both. I think I'm a suburb mouse. I'm really very content wherever I live.

8. Did you know that it is possible, for a small fee, to name a real star after someone? (It's true! Google it!) If someone were to name a star for you, would you appreciate it for its whimsy and romance, or would you say, "Are you kidding me? For $19.95 we could have gone to the movie and actually bought popcorn."

Well, before seeing the movie, Rocket Man, I would think you were crazy, but I love when the main character talks about the star he named as a kid. It's the only thing that makes me think it might be fun, BUT I would want to be able to SEE my star...none of this "it's out there somewhere."

This question comes from Paula at His Ways Are Not Our Ways.
9. What's the craziest thing you've ever been doing and texted during it? I only thought of this b/c I was about to try to text during my walking video but I didn't.

Church or driving...wow, I hate admitting that. (texting so my family can find where we're sitting in church OR at a stoplight...not while actually driving...well, maybe once.)

10. "It's not a party unless _______."

There's good food. I'm from a Southern family, remember.

11. When you're stuck in traffic or a waiting room, what do you do to pass the time? PS: There are no magazines available.

I plan stuff...blog posts, schedules, curriculum, errands, to do lists. I love planning.

12. If you weren't yourself, would you be friends with you?

NO WAY! I wouldn't put up with me. Ha!

Scents and Scents-ability

This is the first scent I can ever remember wearing...does it look familiar to anyone? It's Avon's Honeysuckle Roll On. If they came out with it again today, I'd buy me a case of it! Loved it!!

I then graduated to Love's Baby Soft! What girl of the 80's didn't wear this perfume? I even bought it for my oldest daughter when she was young...love that powdery scent.

In high school I moved on to Ciara - a strong musky/vanilla perfume. I wanted to make a statement/be memorable, but it sometimes gave me a headache.

I then went through a Wind Song phase. When Walmart began carrying those faux perfume aerosol sprays I could smell good cheaply - always a plus in college.

During my sophomore year in college, one of my roommates, Kirsten, and I got very sick. We both came down with mono and pneumonia and we felt like we were gonna die. Seriously, it was traumatic. I remember using all our energy to walk down the hallway to the pay phone so we could call our mommies. I sobbed on the phone one day telling my mom that I doubted my salvation 'cause I was sure God wouldn't let one of his children suffer as much as I was suffering. Kirsten was so sick that while she slept she had me stand on a chair next to her top bunk and shake her every time she stopped breathing to wake her up. I just laid my head down by her and probably drifted in and out of sleep too.

One day a package arrived from Kirsten's mom. Enclosed was an adult sized pair of footie pajamas drenched in her mother's favorite perfume. It smelled heavenly! Kirsten's mommy was thousands of miles away, but this was her way of taking care of her daughter. It actually did wonders for both of us. The perfume...Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden.

Soon after the two of us recovered, I went out and purchased my own bottle of Blue Grass and I've worn it ever since. I can only find it at one specialty perfume store in the DC area, but somehow that makes it even more special.

I've tried a few other perfumes and every once in a while I'll wear Anais Anais or Jessica McClintock, but Blue Grass will always be my favorite. It's my signature scent.

Ancestors with a Past

A while back I was given a written history of my mother's side of the family. The first of our family to set foot on American soil was Martin Dye in 1665! From this family history I found out that I was an 11th generation American with relatives of many different means and ways of life. There are two stand-out relatives I'd like to tell you a little about.

The first, Avery Dye (I love his name!), was born in 1828. He married a woman named America. Wouldn't it be fun introducing your parents, "Avery and America"? Ok, well anyway, Avery was a Confederate Civil War soldier who was captured and incarcerated in the Alton, IL Yankee prison. While there, he escaped with the Quantrill Raiders. (not nice guys) From there he became friends with the Younger Brothers and rode with Jesse James and his gang to Texas. The James-Younger gang were notorious bushwhackers. (again, not nice guys) Didn't know you were in for a brief history lesson, huh?! After the war Avery escaped the James-Younger gang and returned home to Missouri. He said it was easier to break out of Alton Prison than it was to break out of Jesse James' gang. I can believe it!

A relative with loftier goals and better friends was David "Reuben" Dye. He was born in 1835. He lived on a farm 2 1/2 miles south of Stoutsville, MO. Stoutsville is where my great-great grandparents, great-grandparents and grandparents all lived. After Cannon dam was built in 1984 the town was buried under water. Some day I'll share some of my cherished memories of that small town. Back to Reuben...He mortgaged the farm for $1000 to finance a Star Mail Route from Stoutsville, to Florida, MO. His two partners defaulted and Reuben ran the route alone with a horse and spring wagon to keep from losing the farm. One of his good friends and passengers was Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain.) It is said that Samuel Clemens fashioned many of his book's characters off of people he had known; quite possibly those he met along the mail route with Reuben.

I love ancestors who have an "past" worth remembering and sharing. Makes you wonder what they will write about us someday...look at that girl, she just blabbered and blabbered on about nothing. Ha! :) Oh well, maybe they will run across some good tidbits themselves that will make it all worthwhile.

Safe in the hands of God

My heart is bursting to share so many things with you.

The Lord blessed me with safety to and from Lynchburg today - about 6 1/2 hours of driving in the fog and rain.

Our family prays together in the van before we leave on a long trip of any sort, but in all honesty it often feels like a courtesy prayer. I'm not trying to be disrespectful. We truly do want God to watch over us and He ALWAYS has, even when there has been car trouble, but sometimes I think we take that safety for granted. Tonight my prayers for safety were urgent. I didn't want to drive back home. I wondered if it was because I was enjoying the college kids while sitting in the cafeteria chatting after dinner. I sat back and looked around the large room and thought, "I need to go home, but I don't want to." It struck me that it wasn't because I wanted to STAY there either...5 hours was more than enough of their fun and crazy antics. :) I worried that maybe I was anxious about leaving my son there for the weekend. I made my college-age daughter promise me to check up on him and make sure he was ok throughout the four day visit. Then as I drove off the campus I called home to tell my husband that I was leaving so he would know when to expect my arrival. He put my little girls on the speaker phone and I asked them about their day and then I asked them to pray for mommy that she would have a safe trip home. It wasn't a request I would normally make. I drove less than 5 miles down the road listening to praise music as loud as it could comfortably go and fear just gripped me. I prayed that God would get me home to my family. I tightened the seat belt and slowed to the speed limit, which I continued to keep for the rest of the night. If you know me at all...that's UNUSUAL!

A long time ago the Holy Spirit had prompted me to slow down around a very dangerous curve that I drove every day. Back then I drove with the attitude of invincibility, but I immediately braked to a crawl just as a semi truck came barreling around that curve into MY lane. I had the capacity to move off onto the shoulder because of the Holy Spirit's prompting and avoided almost certain death. I felt like something like that might happen tonight. I was genuinely anxious.

For a solid hour I listened to a playlist of my favorite worship songs and just enjoyed singing to the Lord in private. Then right about the second hour mark I popped in a cassette my mom had given me of Beth Moore talking about the passion of God. The past couple of weeks I have enjoyed some truths that Beth has "nailed home" for me in my Esther study, but she also has shared some thoughts/ideas that I found to be "out there" so I was curious to see what she would teach re: the passion of God. I made it through both sides of cassette 1 and side A of cassette 2 and had about 45 minutes more until I got home when I turned over cassette 2 to side B. What she shared about Jacob wrestling with God was profound in my life at the moment.

She said that Jacob was finally having an honest struggle...no cheating allowed in this match up. He hung on through the night, clinging to God. When God asked him his name, he replied, "Jacob." He had to admit that he was the supplanter, the cheater. Then God gave Him a new name. She made the point that God wants to transform our lives-to give us new names, so to speak. He doesn't want us to identify with our old self, but to become new in Him. Jacob's tenacity, his hanging on, while God stripped away the old and made something new out of the man was critical to Jacob fulfilling His calling. Then she used other illustrations from the Bible, David being the most recognizable. He was anointed King and then sent to the "wilderness," spiritually speaking, while Saul was chasing after him and trying to kill him. David remained faithful and his tenacity, his hanging on to the PROMISES OF GOD, allowed God to fulfill a great destiny in him.

I sobbed for 45 minutes straight. Not little tears from a poignant thought, but true bondage-breaking, hope-inducing sobs. I can't truly wrap my brain around all the God is revealing to me and what He is trying to strip away (that I so desperately hold on to), but Beth shared how God is walking you through this time of destroying the old, not for Himself, but FOR YOU. He's not in Heaven just wishing we'd hurry up and obey so He can do His work, He wants to strip away our old man, and yes, have our obedience, so that WE have the victory. He lavishly loves us and wants to save us - not just from Hell, but from ourselves, our sinful nature. He wants to create a new woman in me. What am I hanging onto and why? What do I believe about God, truly, if I can't trust Him with my baggage?

I don't have the answers for you or for me. I just know that I desperately want Him to keep doing that work in me. That I don't want to be the old Angie; I NEED Him to make me anew.

Beth shared a side note about her daughter, Melissa, sharing as a young woman, how profound a certain truth had struck her in Psalm 23. As best as I can remember through the crying, Melissa said, "Mom, Do you realize that God forces my enemies to sit and watch me eat at God's banquet table where every good thing is given to me? My enemies have to watch as God anoints my head with oil. He is showing my enemies that I have all I need to fulfill my calling and have the victory."

How do we forget how awesome God is? How do we forget that in Him we have all that we will ever need? I believe tonight the enemy knew that the Holy Spirit was going to "nail one home," and he sure didn't want me to get the message. My drive, even through dense fog and curvy roads, was completely uneventful. I would like to surmise that it seemed the roads were emptier than I had ever seen them. I was safely in the hands of God, both in my car and in my heart. I hope that you too have experienced his loving care in your life.

God Cares About Dryers & Root Canals

It has been a hectic couple of days. Before I left my house for the day on Tuesday I decided to throw a blanket in the dryer. My son was helping me out with this chore when the dryer started doing "the twilight zone" on him...beeping like crazy. I ran down to the laundry room wondering, "What is he doing?" He was staring at the control panel pushing random buttons to try and get the machine to quiet down. It didn't work. I unplugged the dryer, said a prayer and plugged it back in...nothing. I had a blacked-out control panel and very little time for a diagnosis. I ran to the electric panel and flipped the fuse back and forth (I had no idea!), but still no luck. The light was coming on in the dryer so I knew the machine was getting power; I just grabbed the dryer manual and ran Rhett to his Art class.

While sitting in my car waiting for Rhett I read the entire manual, hoping to find the section that said, "if you can't afford a dryer repair right now, just press this reset button we've hidden on the back of the machine and all will be well." There was no such section. :( I called the repair center and tried to communicate my issue with someone from India (I think.) She let me know that it would cost $70 for the repairman to come out whether I got anything fixed or not. Then she cheerfully told me about the $200 deal that I could pay on the spot and it would take care of all labor and parts for this visit, plus any I would need during the coming year. I let her know that I would need to talk to my husband and get back to her. I called Mark and gave him the low-down and he said if the control panel had gone out it would definitely cost MORE than $200 to fix it. We decided to let him take a look at it later in the day and wait until we had no other option.

I waited through Art and volunteered at the library before being able to get home to gather my remaining laundry (which mysteriously seemed to be hiding ALL OVER the house-we have to talk about getting the dirty stuff in the basket in the hall again). My husband had beaten me home and was tearing the machine apart trying to find that mysterious button too. :) He cleaned out the dryer's insides, but it still didn't like us. Then Mark said that he had read online that sometimes a control button gets stuck and if you just push a lot of buttons it might pop back on. Wow! We're getting desperate now, but it is $200. So with another little prayer I watch him go to town on the buttons and you won't believe it, it popped back on!! I got misty eyed and we started hugging and praising the Lord right there in the laundry room! I think we said lots of thank you prayers throughout the night and felt blessed to not have to drag a mini-van full of clothes to my mom's house. Dad would be happy about that too.

Later that night I had come up with a tasty meal that included grilled pork chops. As Tara was eating her meat she complained about a sore tooth. (one with a filling) I gave her a toothpick thinking she had some pork chop stuck in her teeth. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom with a bloody toothpick and still crying. What kind of mother am I? I got some floss and gave it a try...no luck. She couldn't describe her pain very well so we suggested not finishing the meal and I gave her some pain medicine. She mentioned that it had hurt at other times, but she hadn't told us. I asked her to let me know whenever it hurt again.

Today on our way home from a piano lesson she complained about the pain again. I called the pediatric dentist and they said to come right over. We got there and found out she had broken the filling. Ok, I think. The dentist suggested taking an x-ray just to make sure everything was still good. Of course, it wasn't. She needed a baby root canal on the spot. I know I haven't blogged about the dentist before (there's a reason), but I have awful dental phobia. The dentist only had time right then to fix it so with a "good luck" phone call from Mark, I was the brave Mommy trying not to mirror the terror on my 5-year-old's face. Tara and I came through it just fine and she was excited to hear the dentist's suggestion of ice cream for lunch. Thanks, doc! Can't wait to pay for the next cavity. :)

I took her home to relax, ran to an over-due hair appointment, came home, ate a quick lunch, got my basement ready for ballet (the girls did that...I just did the yelling - quiet yelling!), tried to finish my Bible study homework for tonight (yes, even after yelling), made and ate dinner and rushed out the door to go study Esther. Thank Goodness for Esther! I was dished up a good side of conviction - rightly deserved, but I felt the better for it.

Home to more laundry so my son doesn't go off to "college for a weekend" (CFAW) in the same shirt he's worn for the past two days. Then I ironed for my boys and put some upbeat music onto my ZUNE to keep me awake on the long drives tomorrow.

We've all had days/weeks like I'm having. I'm just amazed that God knew I needed to spend that $200 on a little girl's sweet smile instead of a dryer. I'm thankful He provided the means to do it. He is sooo good, isn't He!

Talk to you again after I return from my trip...I'm hoping to get at least one great picture to share with you. Good-night.