Broken-Hearted

          "Don't believe her (mom). She told me the same thing about my baby blanket, and I'm still waiting." Hearing those words come out of Half-pint's mouth was enough to make me want to grab and eat an entire bag of Ghiradelli chocolate chips...or two. My heart plummeted. Gracie had already asked me at least a hundred times to sew up the hole in her stuffed Harley's ear; and, no, I'm actually not exaggerating.  Gracie is the squeekiest,  noisy "wheel" in our household of seven. I kept putting her off. I kept saying "I will fix the ear when I have time." That's the same thing my 10-year-old has been hearing for six years about a knitting project I began shortly after Carrie was born. It's the same excuse, just a different situation.  It hurt to hear my jaded daughter talk about her lack of trust. I don't remember what age I was when I realized my mom didn't hang the moon, but that feeling of distrust grew and clung on until I hit motherhood.  That's when I matured enough to realize how unfair and selfish I had been as a kid.
        Now there is the replay of distrust in my own family.  There is always something that comes between me and the things I intend to do. Sometimes it a major life upheaval that buries my promise like packing and unpacking twice in two years. Sometimes it the addition of a new baby and being incapable to sit for 15 minutes straight to knit and purl the hundred and twenty-eight stitches to complete a row in her "baby" blanket (I've had two babies since I began this project). Sometimes it is simply the lure of baking fresh cookies that are more appealing than completing a project that has already taken more time than it should've. It did take me roughly ten years to finish my hubby's blanket though, so maybe it's not that far overdue. I could remind Half-pint of this fact, but something tells me that wouldn't make her feel better. After all, here I am blogging when I could be knitting.  I tend to get all philosophical and think about how someday she will understand how unfair she is being.  I have a lot on my plate. I live in the land of the urgent, but unimportant...demands for water lid removals, and moans of help with writing "hundredth", and screams of accidents in the bathroom, or watching the snot run down, almost past, our one-year-old's lip.  Still, my mommy heart grieves the loss of her trust. It hurts, just as I have hurt her by letting her down.
            This past weekend, this failure came to my mind as I was asking God to help me examine what I should confess before partaking in communion (I'm not down with the whole 1 Cor. 11:30 sickness/"sleeping" issue...I like a clean slate). At first, I just apologized for the hurt I had inflicted on Half-pint. Her blanket just hasn't been a priority. The more I thought about it, the more I thought that maybe I was to use this to point her to God. Everyone in life disappoints us, but God is perfect. Maybe I needed to capitalize on that. My heart wasn't in that though. The honest truth is that I am disappointed with God at times. He is perfect, but it's hard to remember that when I sometimes feel like the old (introverted) woman who lived in a shoe who had so many children that she didn't know what to do...and she homeschools them.  Our home isn't perfect (it's cozy), but God put me here for a reason. I have a lot of kids (that I asked for... and one I didn't), but I truly love them and being their mom. I know that God gave them to me for a reason besides making me more tolerant of noisy, small spaces like our van rides. It'd just be easier if He told me why all the time, but that would require no faith.
           That's when it dawned on me. I have been acting like a hurt ten-year-old, demanding my finished blanket. I want to know it all right now, not once my life is finished. God isn't too busy for me, but He definitely has a different sense of timing than I do. When I allow my doubts to cloud my view of His goodness, it hurts Him just as deeply as it did me when Half-pint voiced her loss of confidence. He knows the future and the good that will come from my struggles (Jer. 29:11). God wants me to trust Him no matter what (Prov. 3:5-6).  Feeling the pain of Half-pint's disappointment brought it home for me. I had to apologize to God for doubting Him, His goodness,  and His perfect timing...and hurting Him.
            Life has felt overwhelming lately, especially with the holiday season. I don't understand it all, but I trust that God does. It's time to wait patiently. My blanket's not finished. In the meantime, maybe I'll knit a little more and make someone else's heart happy.

Grin and Bear It

             My stomach wound into tight knots as we drove into the parking garage at the children's hospital for yet another visit to the pediatric rheumatologist. It may have been a week ago, but I remember vividly the feeling of defeat. This was the last place I wanted or expected to be. I kept telling myself that it was a blessing to have an expert to help us, but I was dreading what she would say. Just ten days after getting an all-clear from Lyme Disease,  Half-pint started complaining of pain in her knee again.  Within three days, both knees and ankles (plus one heel) were excruciatingly painful. I dialed up the rheumatologist's office and took the soonest appointment, which was a Thursday. The morning of our appointment, I read Psalm 42. Verse 6  starts by saying, "O my God, my life is cast down upon me [and I find the burden more than I can bear!]...I wrote "Lyme Disease relapse" in the margin along with the date. Just the thought of what was ahead was too much to bear. I felt let down to think that we were starting all over again with the disease. Yes, I know life could definitely be worse,  but at the time this felt too big for me. I had made the mistake of looking at information on-line about Lyme reoccurance and life-long struggles.
           The rest of Psalm 42:6 says,"...therefore will I [earnestly] remember You from the land of the Jordan [River] and the [summits of Mount] Hermon, from the little mountain Mizar." Basically that part of the verse is encouraging us to remember what God is capable of. I personalized this part of the verse by saying "... therefore will I [earnestly] remember You from the parking lot of the orthodontist and the kitchen in need of a crockpot, with the little mountain of uncooked beans." You probably don't know the story from the parking lot, so here it goes.
            Back in May my hubby and I talked to two "experts" in the orthodontic field. Both agreed that Mary suffered from severe overcrowding,  but their treatments were considerably different. The more experienced one felt that two permanent teeth needed to be pulled by an oral surgeon as well as having an "impacted" tooth bared to attach a gold chain to it (to drag it down). He also recommended an expander. From my orthodontic knowledge, an expander equals a LOT of pain. Did I mention that all my friends use the more experienced doctor (as well as my brother who lives in the area)? The other orthodontist said there was no need for an expander with the "self-ligating" braces (Damon braces) he used. We didn't need to pull any permanent teeth. He felt that if he made room for it, the other tooth would naturally drop without intervention. We looked at some very convincing before and after photos on Facebook. Is it any suprise that we liked the "less pain", "less intervention", "less cost" plan of the latter orthodontist......at the risk of following advice from the less experienced expert? I wondered if the other orthodontist was right though when he said the tooth would "never" descend on it's own. Her braces went on in June.  In October, our orthodontist told us that we shouldn't wait any longer. We should uncover that stubborn tooth with a laser at her next appointment (so we could pull it down into alignment).  My logical brain said, "He WAS wrong, but at least we don't have an oral surgeon bill." The panic on my daughter's white-as-a-sheet face told me that logic was unhelpful at this point. She was freaking out as only a twelve year old with a huge imagination can. At that point in the parking lot, we prayed and asked God to do what one orthodontist thought was impossible and what our current orthodontist was done waiting for (the dental assistant explained to us that they had waited for over six months for her son's stubborn tooth to drop with no success...which increased his treatment time). A few weeks later when Mary told me her tooth had emerged (and far lower on the gum-line than it was in May), I grabbed her hands and did a hoppy, ring-a-round-rosey dance for several minutes. This victory is what my mind went back to that morning that I knew we would be facing bad news.
          It built my faith. It gave me hope. It gave me the courage to declare that I trusted God to be capable in this problem as well. It gave peace in my heart even though my stomach refused to cooperate. I expected the worse for Half-pint,  but the rheumatologist surprised me. There was no swelling with her pain,  which meant no Lyme Disease. The fact that it was bilateral and in additional places was a result of the weather and a little thing called hyper mobility,  which can be treated with physical therapy not medication. Her heel pain was a normal symptom of growing. She was not diseased. She is just growing and extra flexible. 
          Still, we are having to manage her pain. It has to be consistent for three weeks before it can be diagnosed as "chronic pain". Aleve and Advil don't touch the pain, but we found some essential oils that do the trick (lemongrass,  wild orange,  lemon,  and frankinscense are her favorites). Within seconds,  she feels relief. Right now, we are just waiting for our next step...but we're grinning because we know we are not alone.
          
         

"Uncle!"

           There are some days that just feel like one big fight. By 5pm on Friday evening,  I was totally ready to cry "Uncle!" Mr. Blue Eyes started tossing his cookies and milk at 4 am on Thursday.  We went through no less than six outfits between the two of us. Homeschooling was a disaster between the puking and the mountains of extra laundry that resulted, but he seemed to feel better by the evening and gobbled down some mac 'n cheese. Big mistake.  The next two hours were full of pile after pile (splatter even got on my sheets--which I didn't get to till the following day) of regurgitated mac 'n cheese. The next day brought a couple more rounds of throw-up, but also a fever...and his cough was getting worse.
          At the same time that my sheets were getting splattered, the original daddy duck was loving on his lady and inadvertently hooked his leg on a nail when dismounting. He broke his leg and put his mating season on hold. Friday,  he saw our vet and got a splint on his leg. Due to our vet visit and a couple more rounds of puke, our school work was still not finished by 5pm.
      What happened at 5pm? I finally had the baby down for his first nap of the day, so I opened up my Bible. I was done. I had had it up to my eyeballs. I read John 14:1 which says, "Let not your heart be troubled (dismayed, agitated)..." I paused a moment and let that soak in. It wasn't even a whole verse, but the words refreshed my soul. The verse goes on to say that you should believe in Jesus just like you do God.
           I had no idea that I would be up at 1am the following day throwing up, or that Gracie would start throwing up at 4am (followed by Mary at 6:30am, Carrie at 8pm and Half-pint by 1am the following morning). The scripture kept rattling around in my brain. "Let not your heart be troubled..." With every clean  towel thrown down over Gracie's dirty sheets (where she threw up three times in the first two hours--gone are the days of full sheet changes in between pukes), I thanked God that at least I had stopped puking. In the weakness that comes after puking, I thanked God that at least Mr. Blue Eyes had stopped throwing up and running a fever. As I watched carefully for signs of dehydration,  I still felt His comfort. One phrase can make such a difference. I prayed out for wisdom and sometimes in frustration over the overwhelmingness of it all. I was super thankful for Charles' help through all this, but there were moments that I still wondered if I was doing the right thing. Dehydration and phlegm are bad combos. There was alot of diaper counting, popsickle making and juice given (we polished off our first bottle of Basil Oil and used Doterra's Breathe combo for the cough...which seemed as effective as the nebulizer was when he was diagnosed with pneumonia). Bottom line, it was God's mercy and, I believe, answers to repeated prayers that has gotten us through.

          We have had reason to laugh in the midst of all this though. I started running to Group One Crew's album "Outta Space Love" last month, and the first song on it is "Live It Up". While starting a load of laundry, I started singing lyrics about our bout with the stomach bug. Mary and I have decided to write a full song to that tune. She came up with using "Clean it up!" instead of "Live it up!" We'll let you know if we get the YouTube video up.  On Saturday (in the thick of our puke-a-thon), Mr. Blue Eye's crib rail fell apart. I couldn't help but laugh at our 18 year old crib (yup, it's a second hand beauty). I grabbed my phone and took a picture. They must build cribs expecting most people to stop after 2 or 3 kids. My hubby quickly helped me put it back together temporarily and joked about using duct tape to fix it. That part didn't make me laugh at the time, but today it does seems a little funny. A bit red neck, but funny. Don't worry. We intend to fix it properly.

          Yesterday, I read John 16 and the way the chapter ended seemed so fitting to our situation. I know, everyone has rough weeks...this just happened to be one of mine. If it's your turn, please remember this verse. John 16:31 in the Amplified Version says "I have told you these things,  so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace and confidence.  In the world you have tribulations and trails and distress and frustration;  but be of good cheer [take courage; be confident,  certain, undaunted]! For I have overcome the world. [I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you.]

Frozen

           It was "bitterly" cold outside early in the week. The temperatures during the days (factoring in windchill) were a chilly -25ºF on Monday. Schools were closed around here. You can all give a groan for my students who carried on at home in spite of the low temps...they agreed that they'd rather be done with school sooner than take a day off. We did make a batch of snow ice cream during school. We couldn't resist trying a recipe from one of my favorite blogs.
            There's one thing you really don't want to lose in a house during a cold snap. Any guess what malfunctioned when the temperature dropped this weekend? Charles, my hubby, woke up at 2 am on Monday morning and realized he felt colder than normal. He went to the thermostat to turn it up, and that's when he saw that the furnace wasn't keeping up with the temperature programed for that time in the morning.
              A friend of mine posted a Jack London story on her Facebook page Sunday night that I read while trying to get Mr. Blue Eyes to go to sleep. Mr. London's descriptions were really tangible with all the cold we had been experiencing, and I felt like hyperventilating during most of it. Mr. Blue Eyes struggled to go to sleep till after midnight,  and I struggled not to have flashbacks about "To Build a Fire". Two hours later, the baby was up again, and my hubby was on his mission to keep us warm. He brought in a kerosene space heater that he had bought for his outbuilding a year ago (yes, for those concerned, we did leave a window partially open for venting), and soon we were blasted with some comfort. Kerosene space heaters are noisy...really noisy. Mr. Blue Eyes was terrified of it. I think he was fighting off an ear infection or suffering from a pounding headache (Gracie pulled a blanket out from under him, giving him a very hard landing on our kitchen tile and a nasty bruise under his eye..."I was just trying to get him off!"). He was miserable. Three hours later, he finally konked out. When we woke up, Charles had begun deconstructing our bedroom closet, so he could fit a ladder in there to access our furnace, which is located in the attic. Crazy right? The previous owners converted our house from baseboard heating, and their furnace guy stuck it in the attic. It wasn't long before he found a tube that drained water which was frozen solid. He called a professional to service it, but he decided to try a few things while he waited. It's moments like these that I am super grateful for a problem-solving engineer like Charles. The next thing you know, he had the blow dryer up in the attic, thawing the line. Sheer brilliance,  I tell you! He had the furnace up and running in no time, and my Jack London-inspired fears were laid to rest. There was one momentary glitch that caused a lapse in heat, but after he blew the water out of a component,  it ran beautifully the rest of the day.
           This past week has been an unexpectedly hard one for me emotionally. Our previous church always did a corporate fast for the first three weeks of the year, as a way of dedicating the year to God. I decided to carry on with the idea even though we live in a different state. Fasting for me usually equals feeling closer to God and an increased sense of hopefulness in how He will move in my life. Instead, I have felt frozen. Frozen by fear. Satan knows our weaknesses and will come at them with everything he's got. He knows my weak spot, and he's chosen this fall to target it. He's been coming after my family. I'm afraid of them being hurt by what I am helpless to prevent. Worse yet, I'm afraid God won't act on my behalf. I've watched my son go through pneumonia and ear infections. I watched my daughters go through physical illnesses and emotional distress as well.
           This past week, I read in Matthew 4 about how Jesus was tempted while He fasted for 40 days in the wilderness.  I guess fasting doesn't always guarantee feeling good, huh? If you remember the story of Jesus being tempted, you'll remember how He was victorious: with scripture. 1John 4:4 says, "You, dear children, are from God and have OVERCOME them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." We are capable of winning our battles because of the Holy Spirit within us. I'm notifying Satan, right now, that I will not accept his temptation to doubt God's power. God's timing may be different than mine, but He will be victorious in doing something in my family that's better than I can imagine.(Rom. 8:28) I am believing by faith that He will reward me for earnestly seeking Him (Hebrews 11:6). and trusting that He loves my family even more than I possibly could. "At all times, I will bless the Lord. His praise shall continually be in my mouth." (Ps 34:1) These are just a few verses that are warming up with. It time to thaw out and function fully again.

           Tonight, our church handed out prayer cards with topics to pray over for our city. One of the verses struck me as very fitting to this situation: "Arise, cry out in the night as the watches of the night begin;pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children..."(Lam. 2:9)

What verses are you using in your battle?  I'd love to add some to my arsenal as well...

Missouri Loves Company

           This weekend,  I watched as many people near our last town were devastated by a tornado.  I sat, prayed, and checked Facebook. It was all out of my hands, and I was too far away to do anything but pray. No direct friends of ours lost their home. I loved all the posts from my friends and their offers of help. I cannot imagine the misery they must be tempted to sit in. The stories from those affected are sad but hopeful.  I know their holidays will be much different than they expected.  Most of them are grateful this Thanksgiving for the greatest gift they have received: life.
         Monday night, I was reminded again of all the wonderful people we left behind. Charles had most of the little ones in our bedroom watching "Different Strokes". They used to watch this show once a week while I went to a small group). There they all were watching a familiar program, and my heart longed for the comraderie of my dear friends that we have left. It brought on a torrent of emotions as the realization hit me that all the people I used to see weekly (or even monthly) were hundreds of miles a way. What did I do? What any woman in my situation would do! I swept the floor.
           I swept and swept until the floors were all cleaned upstairs, and then I vacuumed the basement (lots of ducklings=trails of woodchips). Some people shop for therapy. I clean. As I cleaned, I prayed quietly for the friends I was missing and asked God to bring new ones into my life. Then, I sat down and watched part of a movie with my Gracie, my youngest girl.
          As I put the girls to bed, I still felt lonesome; but God hears every prayer and the next few hours were filled with excitement and wonder as my oldest two girls and I stayed up to watch the next batch of ducklings hatch. At first we were just hanging out with the week-old ducklings. All but one waddled onto Half-pint to take a nap. We laughed as they would preen Half-pint's fuzzy jammies and her long brown hair. Then, we heard some loud peeping as the newest batch started breaking free in the incubator. We laughed and talked like old friends as we named the new batch of ducks "Lola", "Agnes", "Oliver", and "Peter". I know how silly that is since we won't know their gender for a while.
          I believe God gave me open eyes that night to see two precious friends that He had left right in front of me: my daughters. If we had still lived in our old town, I doubt I would've stayed up. I was often too preoccupied to take time to hang out. Having fewer friends and less groups to attend is giving me time to focus on what matters more...family. I'm grateful this holiday season for my opportunity to get to know them better.
           We had almost two weeks with the Grandmas, and it was wonderful. I've had repeated requests to go back and visit our last area, but I need to put it off till the ducklings and baby boy has gotten a little older (to tolerate long trips better). Carrie, my 5 year old, is already dreaming up a visit back to our old town for her birthday in March to visit a favorite friend. We'll see what happens. We'd love to have more visitors here in Missouri, but I'm so thankful for Facebook to help me stay in touch. Missouri loves company, but we will take the memories and the mail (whether electronic or postal )we get with gratitude. 
            I miss you all and I'm praying for you all!

To read more bloggers talking about their less than perfect holidays,  click here.

Does God Make Mistakes?

             Monday morning,  I made way into the doctor's office for an appointment for two of our children,  only to see my sister-in-law standing at the counter checking out. I couldn't have planned this even if I tried. She had planned to put together a meal for our family that day; she just wasn't sure how to get it to us. Carrie and Grace happily skipped off with her to play (while she made a meal for us), and we completed our doctor appointment, as well as shopping at Wal-mart. It was awesome how it worked out. The timing of it all right after the weekend with a sick baby was lovely. I felt like we had been touched by an angel.
                  You'd think after something that special that I'd be thrilled for the rest of the week, but I soon met more challenges. There were unanswered prayers rattling around in my brain that had me feeling disappointed. I was thinking things like, " God, I don't understand this." "God did you mess up? " It's funny that my reading for the day lead me to Luke 23. That's a chapter all about Jesus' crucifixion.  When I read about the women preparing the spices for His dead body, I felt their sorrow. The last verse stopped me in my tracks. It says, "Then they went back and made ready spices and ointments (perfumes). On the Sabbath day thy rested in accordance with the commandment." (This is the Amplified Version) These poor women had just witnessed the death of who they thought was the Messiah, and they couldn't even finish their work because it was approaching the Sabbath.  They were bound to follow the law that Christ had just fulfilled, but they didn't know He had fulfilled it...yet. They didn't know that this was their last Sabbath that would ever be celebrated in this manner,  but it was. They thought it was all over, but it was just beginning.  I could almost hear them wondering if God had made a mistake or if they had made a mistake thinking Jesus was the Christ.
          Life and death is seriously a mystery that only God understands. I was not a planned pregnancy.  Does that make me a mistake? My son was not a planned pregnancy either. Does that make him a mistake?  I was only ten when my dad became sick with cancer and died three years later. How is that fair or right?  19 years ago today, something happened to me that I believed was a mistake and hid for a long time (Read about that here). Does God make mistakes?  NO!
           I'm thankful that I was born (and I believe, my mom is thankful too). I'm thankful for my son's birth even though I didn't plan him. There is not a day that goes by that he doesn't make me smile or feel grateful for his presence. I don't understand my dad's death or everything bad that has happened to me, but it has made me who I am today. I am thankful for that.
            You may be wondering what in the world God is thinking right now because you can't understand it. I want to encourage you to hold tight and trust Him. This may feel like death right now, but your resurrection might be just around the corner. 

Marshmallow Musings

          I am polishing off a bag of half-eaten marshmallows while reflecting back on this day (yes, unbeknownst to most people I cannot leave marshmallows sit in their bag...they call to me to rescue them). I am so full of gratitude. Moving from our last home was challenging. I was totally open to moving, but I was still suprised that we actually did move. It was like I was somehow waiting for God to step in and to stop us. It all felt rather surreal; and when we did move and close on our old house on that end and close on our new house on this end, I was a little perplexed.
            Today was my birthday; and although I have often had my mom around for it (since she only lived an hour and a half away from me), I cannot remember the last time I had my brother's family over as well. My brother's oldest daughter has a birthday on the same day. When my brother asked if I wanted to get together on our birthday,  my hubby came up with the idea of a having a bonfire up here and even putting hay in the cart our lawn tractor pulls for "hayrides". It was pretty awesome for me (plus my sister-in-law left half a bag of marshmallows to inspire my musings and temporarily bloat me...thanks, Sis!).
           I miss my old friends and old town, but I love being able to be apart of my extended family's life. This past week I was able to spend a couple of days with my neices and nephew while my brother and sister-in-law got to remember why they really like each other on a trip in Mexico. I loved hanging out with them and being an aunt again. I always felt like I barely got to see them when they visited.  I was too busy making meals or taking care of the baby to really get to know them. I've already seen my neice play in a couple of softball games and watched my nephew score two touchdowns in football. Today, when my youngest neice spent all of her money on a present for me, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude to get to know her sweetness firsthand. 
           This would've never been possible without my hubby's decision to move for this job or to move to this house (that he picked for us). Had we stayed in our old town, I would've never experienced a birthday like this. Had our septic system been ok and our original buyer bought our house, we would've moved to the first house we had our bid accepted on  (which would've been an hour away from my brother)...so my birthday still probably wouldn't have been this way. It's funny how God always makes my hubby's choices benefit me. God knew just how much He would be giving me when we moved.
          My mom wrote this verse from the Message translation on my birthday card today, and it seems so fitting: "God's angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray." (Psalm 34:7) I can't remember a day I haven't talked to God about this whole situation for the past few months. I can feel His protection and His provision.  I can feel the smile on His face as I am beginning to realize what a gift this is for me. I can't help but say thank you to Him for blessing me with a hubby to take me just where I need to be.

Little House on the Prarie

           Have you ever walked into a house and felt instantly at home? That was exactly how I felt when I saw our new house for the very first time this past Sunday. It isn't grandiose or majestic...bucolic and rustic come to mind instead. When I was first married, one of my hubby's friends described me as "simple", and it offended me at first. Now that I'm a little older, it doesn't bother me like it did. I now know it meant "uncomplicated", not "boring".  This house suits me perfectly.  It's even yellow, which I've always loved. Plus...wait for it...there is no tile in the showers! Hallelujah!!
           I described our last house as "The Promised Land", and it really had everything we could've ever hoped for.  I remember asking God why in the world He allowed us to simplify and get rid of so much stuff if we were going to move to a huge house. We never really did fill up our old house. Now, it all makes sense. Don't get me wrong,  I loved living there, but I believe I will love living here as well. Our old house feels more to me like one of those awesome vacation houses that you rent to make special memories in since we only lived there a year. We had lots of special things happen there (like the birth of our first son or polor bear event, where my hubby and the girls rolled on the icy pond after going in the sauna), but I never left my mark there. I never even had a chance to paint any walls a beautiful (some may say "obnoxious") shade of green.
          You should see the land that goes with this property.  It is beautiful and rolling with tall grasses and a seasonal stream and pond. Parts of the grass have been cut and huge rolls of hay dot our backyard. There is an enormous screened in porch off the back of the house with large knarled silver maple trees shading it. It is just lovely.
          I used to love the show "Little House on the Prarie", and my mom recently bought the entire set. The girls and I have enjoyed watching it with her when we see her. When she came down to celebrate her birthday, we commented about how our new home would be just like that. I guess that would make me Caroline and my hubby Charles. I'm curious to see if there are any nagging, superficial Mrs. Olsens around here. One of my mom's friends hit the nail on the head saying that we enjoy Mrs. Olsen so much because "we all have a little of her in us".
            We started reading the "Little House" books for school this year; and while debating whether or not to buy them, I saw that the author's daughter has some books about her called "The Rose Years". The author, Laura Ingalls Wilder moved to Missouri with her hubby. It seemed a little more than coincidental when I saw that. It was like God had us  introduce our girls to the "Little House" books and shows right before we moved out.
          Do you know when we first found this house? It was listed for the first time on our 16th anniversary. Sitting on the back porch listening to the cicadas humm and the chickens cluck, I can tell you that this definitely feels like a present.

A Series Of Fortunate (and Unfortunate) Events

           What seemed rather simple in theory has turned out to be rather complicated. Every time we turn around there is a new challenge to navigate.
           Unfortunately,  our driveway proved to be too steep for the semi-truck to drive without scraping the bottom of the trailer. Fortunately,  our neighbor has a road bordering ours that they parked on. Fortunately,  they could also rent a u-haul to shuttle boxes back and forth.
            Unfortunately,  the paperwork wasn't finished for us to close on our house before driving to our new house. Fortunately,  a good friend was willing to watch over our house while the packers finish late last night (since the shuttling made the process take longer than anticipated).
             Unfortunately,  due to some assessment issues the bank still wasn't ready to close when we arrived last evening. Fortunately,  a friend of mine allowed us to keep our chickens and ducks at her place.
            Unfortunately,  the buyer wasn't willing to let us take possession by leasing the property till Monday. Fortunately,  my hubby already had a two bedroom furnished apartment that allow dogs and cats. We have somewhere to stay.
             A lot has been challenging; but fortunately,  we are all here together and (other than allergies) are healthy. None of the animals even got sick.

"We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed, we are persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed..." 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Appetite for Destruction

         Last week, I surprised my mom by showing up with the kids to a birthday party thrown by her co-worker celebrating her 70th birthday.  It was awesome to meet some of the people that she has impacted in the last 18 years of work at a support group for people who have had a loved one die.  It was also a wonderful break from the ordinary, but it was just long enough to forget about the partially burned peanut butter jar that Harley found at the top of the hill on our neighbor's burn pile. Harley, our dog, didn't forget. Food is always on his brain, especially when it's peanut butter. He must have somehow snuck up there after coming home on Tuesday afternoon. Wednesday,  I found out about his secret binge when his body began purging the blackened plastic all over our floral carpeting at the top of our stairs. He looked so pathetic as he continued to empty the charred contents of his stomach throughout the next 24 hours. He stared accusingly at me when I withheld his regular meals, so I lectured him all day about making good food choices,making it easier to resist his huge puppy dog eyes.  Eating garbage prevented him from eating his regular nourishing food, but it also caused him to be isolated from us. I love him, but when it comes to puking dogs, they are confined to tile areas with washable items only. I have too many children to spend hours on my hand and knees cleaning dog puke out of the carpet. I had enough fun the last time around to last a lifetime. (If you missed that post, here you go.) I also informed Harley that he chose this isolation by indulging his appetite. The vet mentioned that I needed to be sure he continued his bowel movements. His appetite could literally destroy him (or at least his internal organs). Why would he choose to eat trash?
          I have begun to say goodbye to the familiar.  Sunday was my last service in our home church, where they celebrated a finished balcony by holding a free Mandisa concert. What a treat! She is fabulous!! My daughter celebrated her final birthday with her best buddies yesterday,  and it is just a matter of days till we say goodbye to the town that has been our home for the past twelve years. As I began thinking about all the people we are leaving behind, I began to feel very weepy.
           If I wanted to, I could've thought about all the negative things; but it wouldn't really be any different than choosing to eat a burnt jar of peanut butter. It would make me feel sick and cause me to draw inward, isolating me from those I love.  I chose instead to take my sadness to God. He reminded me that we aren't guaranteed any length to our life. For all I know, I could be exiting earth tomorrow. Even if I never see all my good buddies again in this life, I will have all eternity to spend together with those that have trusted in Christ. (Although I am planning on returning for an occasional visit). I felt a smidge better after those thoughts, but I still told God how special they all are to me. It brought tears to my eyes to think about each friend and the important role they have played in my journey.  He told me that my friends here are wonderful, but I have no idea all the amazing people that He is going to introduce me to in Missouri. God is no stranger to sorrow,  and He knows how hard this is for all of us. I know He can handle my tears, but He can also lift my spirits with the truth of wholesome thoughts. This is what I'm choosing to dwell on, instead of eating the garbage.
          This is why I'm singing with all my heart the song that Mandisa led us in during her concert. It says, "At all times, I will bless the Lord." Thank you, Mandisa for that song; thank you, hubby, for surprising me with the CD; and most of all, thank you, God, for the feast of good thoughts!
     

Learning Endurance

          I have great news! We now have a house that we are planning to buy. It is a lovely three bedroom ranch situated on more than 25 acres. I haven't seen it in person; but thanks to Google's "Hangouts", the girls and I were able to see it via my hubby's smartphone. We begin inspections this week; and as long as nothing major pops up, we will be moving in just a few weeks.
          The people who put their house on the market in order to buy our house sold their home last week. We begin home inspections on this end this Thursday,  so we can close on September 20th.
            The other notable news from this week is that our duck Splashes has begun laying her clutch of eggs. We are up to  six eggs. Malards typically lay one egg a day. After they lay 12-18 eggs, they begin sitting on them. If she lays 12, we should have baby ducks around September 22. (18 eggs would put us around September 28.) I'm not sure how the ducks will handle our move, but I think two ducks will be easier to move than a dozen...looks like we will just be moving eggs.
         Yesterday when I was getting all befuddled about how this is going to work out, God brought my mind back to our hike in the woods Saturday. We all went as a family for a trip through the wooded part of our property.  This was my first time hiking in our woods, and I was amazed by how beautiful and serene it was. Everyone walked except for the baby, who got to ride on my hubby's back. In the beginning, it was almost impossible to get our three year old to hold my hand, even on the steep ascent into the woods. I stood behind her ready to catch her at a moment's notice. It wasn't until we came to a couple of large logs across our path that she showed any signs of hesitation.  What was knee high for me was almost waist high for her. She began asking me to pick her up.  Most of the time, I smiled at her and offered my hand to guide her instead of carrying her. Her requests increased in frequency the longer we went on. She was getting tired.  Occasionally I did pick her up when the obstacles were too much for her to do alone. However, I wanted her to continue to walk as much as possible to help her develop endurance.
          That's what I think God is doing for me right now. He is with me every step of the way holding my hand, but He only carries me when the way is really difficult. He knows I'm tired, but He also has the perspective of being so much bigger than my obstacles.  He can see where the path gets easy again, just like I could with my daughter.  2 Cor. 5:7 tells us to walk by faith not by sight.  Continuing to trust God enough not to worry over every detail of our move builds my own faith-filled endurance. I know He is right there to catch me if I fall, and that is enough to keep me pressing on.
   

Eye On It

            This morning while I ran, I listened to one of my favorite CD's: Toby Mac's "Eye On It".  All the songs on the CD are awesome to run to except for one track, but I can rant about that in another post. The lyrics from the title song encourage me a lot because it talks about the importance of keeping your eye on your goal. It says," I got my eye on it, and I will not quit. I got a new passenger to help me navigate the way, So when my heart hits the floor I can recalibrate. I feel the deeper callin' me, all else is fadin' in the past, So let me run in the race that I know is built to last. 'Cause I can feel the wind at my back. Chest is pumpin' like a heart attack. Feet are moving and my mind is locked. Pressing on I gotta take my shot. I got my eye on it."           

          This morning, I reflected on this past week, and all that we accomplished. We prepared the house for six showings. The only minor hitch was that my one daughter's bowels invariably need to empty whenever we are at the park during a showing, but my potty stashed under the back bench of our van has been quite handy...we've just had to endure the smell on the trip home. Yesterday, we found that our favorite park just got a port-a-potty. Hooray!  That won't even be a problem anymore. I was tempted yesterday to feel whiny about one couple that delayed us from going home. I needed to drop off the pooch, so we could do some grocery shopping. I felt irritated that they were taking so long looking at the house; but when I stopped to think that maybe they were there so long because they really liked it, I felt hopeful instead of annoyed. Our goal is to sell our house as quickly as possible,  so being flexible is important.                   

          This past week, I completed another goal. My continuing education is all done for the next two years. I will give you one pearl of wisdom that I gleaned concerning cirrhosis of the liver. If you're  drinking more than seven drinks a week, ladies, you had best be drinking some espresso as well.

           Although we haven't successfully negotiated a house contract in Kansas in the past week, we have made progress in ruling out more homes. Hopefully,  we will have news to share concerning that within a couple of days. It has been a long time without being together as a family,  but I can see the finish line ahead in that regard as well. I'm grateful to my hubby for driving to see us every weekend since May 20th (except for one). That has been a huge sacrifice on his part, but we need his presence. Our three year old counts down the days on the calendar every week. You should hear all the girls holler when they see him pulling down our drive. It's one of my high points for the whole week.

          This leg of our race feels like it's coming to a close. My hubby's assistance with temporary housing is up on August 20th. With the finish line looming ahead, there is a new surge of energy within me. We're so close.  I can't help but want to sprint to the finish!

Evening Expirations

          A good friend of mine took some of our girls over to her house for the evening, and asked what time I wanted them to come home. I said that around 8pm would be good. She made a joking comment about how past 8:30 it is hard to be a good parent...like we expire at that time. I couldn't agree more. I wish I could have a label on me that says," Go to bed by 8:30pm (or your sweet mother will turn into a head-spinning harpy)."
          The last few weeks have felt like a bit of a time warp when I get past seven o'clock. It doesn't seem to matter if I start getting the three youngest ready for bed at 7:30 or 9pm. It has still been almost 10:00pm before I get done and can go to bed. Part of me feels like I'm slowly spinning out of control, but the sensible part of me acknowledges that parenting takes time, that our lives have felt hectic lately, and that getting three little ones to bed and getting them to stay there is something that will get easier over time. I can get so caught up in what I feel I'm failing in that I forget to look at what I am ultimately accomplishing...putting three children to bed and giving a good close to their day, even if a little discipline is included.
           Even if I can't have my expiration clearly labeled, I can help my attitude with another evening expiration.  As a x-ray tech, I am all too familiar with another type of expiration. We have people exhale their air for certain exams like an abdominal x-ray. Performing an abdominal x-ray on expiration allows you to see a lot more in the picture. When I am stressed out, a good expiration can really help me to see the bigger picture too...especially when I am giving me cares over to God. At the end of the day, I used to rehash all the things that I did wrong during the day in my head...trying to think how I could do it differently next time and avoid the problem.  Now when those thoughts come to me, I expire those as  prayers back up to God. At night, I am almost constantly dialoging with God. "I'm tired, God...and they are misbehaving again!" Breathe out. The thought pops into my head, "If they don't stop misbehaving, tell them their cuddle time is over." Breathe in. "I just want my night to be over, God." Breathe out. "Hang in there! Set a timer, so you both know when it's time to leave the room. " Breathe in.
       As I expire my problems to God.  He inspires new solutions to my problems. This last Saturday, we were contacted with a new offer on our house. This offer is not an all-out offer to buy the house right now. It is an offer contigent on their house selling. In fact, they are putting our house on the market in order to buy our house. As we were trying to come to an acceptable agreement,  I felt frustrated. It was the end of the day, when I was tired and ready to be done. I was scrubbing the girl's hair for their bath while talking and texting back and forth to my husband. My hubby made the comment of praying about the issue. Breathe out. I began to ask God if I was being unreasonable about one aspect of the negotiations,  and a new thought flew into my head that I don't think I would've come up with on my own...a very good reason that made our position understandable. Breathe in. When I shot the idea to my hubby,  it made sense to him too. We ran it by the realtor,  and she agreed with it too. Yesterday, we signed a new-contract that we could both agree on. Since it is contingent on them selling their house, we will continue to show ours. If someone else makes a better offer, they have a window of time to come up with that money; or we can sell the house to the new person. Yesterday, as we left the house to show it again before my daughter's birthday party, I realized I felt completely at peace. That is totally a God thing. He is with me every step of my day...just waiting to breathe inspiration into me, when I feel ready to expire.

What do you need to expire?  If you'd like to leave a comment,  I will be happy to pray with you about it.

Where The Rubber Meets The Road

            We have just under a month till our generous package from my hubby's job stops paying for his temporary housing. August 20th is last day of our three month window. It feels like a deadline that is quickly looming. We are trying to find some reasonable options for housing in Kansas, and currently we are looking at homes that are less expensive.  This is where the rubber meets the road.
             I looked up what this phrase meant, and all I could find was general definitions about going into action. That does describe where we are; but when I would hear my parents use this phrase, there was always a sense of discomfort with that action...like they were taking into account the friction that went with that wheel making some movement. That is an even better description of where we are.  This past week has been a challenge to my faith.
              Our first week with our house on the market was disappointing.  We had zero showings, so my hubby and I began the search for different homes in a new price range. This past Sunday, however,  we had an open house with fourteen groups of people showing up. We've had two showings since then, so all hope is not lost. The sermon on Sunday was all about God being near, and it hit home to me in many ways. He spoke on Psalm 23 and his own personal valley he was currently walking through. The pastor asked if we have ever felt like God is distant. My answer would be, "Yes!" I am at a loss right now to understand exactly what God is doing. I feel like we are poised at a start line with our engine revving,  just waiting for the flag to drop,  waiting for our rubber to meet the road. There is no flag in site though. Every home option we look at is another challenge in patience. Half the houses we found last week are no longer on the market.  My hubby did look at a home on Monday, but there is paperwork concerning easements that we are waiting on now before we will make an offer.
          I know timing is everything, and there is a reason for all this taking the time that it is. I long for clarity on what we are supposed to do though. This morning in "Jesus Calling" it talked about thankfulness. It said, " When thankfulness flows freely from your heart and lips, let your gratitude draw you closer to Me. I want you to learn the art of giving thanks in all circumstances. See how many times you can thank me daily; this will awaken your awareness to a multitude of blessings.  It will also cushion the impacts of trials when they come at you."
         So here is list of some of the things that I'm thankful about right now. Our chickens have begun laying eggs, and the girls have eagerly gone out multiple times a day to search for their treasure. Yesterday,  we watched as Caramel laid an egg in the box my hubby had put together as a shelter for the cats in the winter. It was pretty amazing to see the intent look on her face and the ruffle of her feathers...and then to see her completely distracted by the ear of corn in front of her two seconds later, while we snuck her treasure out from underneath her.
       Also, because we haven't moved yet, we are able to travel only a little over an hour to spend time with my hubby's family from all over the country this weekend.  Had we moved to Kansas, we'd have had a seven hour drive plus the challenge of finding someone to watch our animals. My second eldest also has the chance to celebrate one more birthday here. Our current neighbor is letting us use his pool for the celebration this coming Monday too.
            This Friday marks the sixteen year anniversary of the day my hubby and I said I do. I'm even more aware of all the things he adds to our relationship because we can't spend as much time together right now. When he is home, it's more fun to let my plans fly out the window (like this past Friday when we took a impromptu trip to a livestock auction as a family). I'm thankful to him for bringing color and adventure to my life. Without him, my life would be terribly boring. He is way more fun than anyone else I know.
             Just stopping to pause and think about the good things I'm grateful for has calmed my revving engine and made me smile. You can be sure that I will let you know the moment that flag drops and it's time to burn rubber. Till then, I'll be counting my blessings.

What about you? What are you grateful for?
            

The Gray Area

         Life is full of black and white; but between the black and white, there is the gray area...that's the tricky part, the part I find the most frustrating and confusing. It's the area that's open to personal opinion and interpretation. Friday night I spent several hours in the local ER with my five year old due to the gray area. She tested positive for strep on her throat on Thursday. When she'd been on antibiotics for more than 24 hours and her fever had jumped from 102.3 to 104.8 (without the ibuprofen) in the same 24 hour period, I began to feel that the antibiotics might not be helping. When I looked at her tonsils, I saw that her tonsils had gone beyond just having pus on them to having great big red streaks as well. I called the after hours hotline in hopes of either being told to sit tight for another 12 hours and watch what happens or to have a different antibiotic prescribed. Instead,  I was told that I had to take her to the ER. I tried to reason with the nurse that I knew the fever was responding to the ibuprofen,  and I could take another temp immediately if that was her concern...but she had consulted another nurse and was concerned that something more was involved due to the high temp. Here was the gray area. I didn't believe anything would come of our visit to the ER. Indeed three hours later when we were seen, she was fever and pain free. However,  there was this nagging thought of "what if". What if there was a bigger problem with her, and my stubborness got in the way of her well-being. It was worth it to me to lose the time, just to be safe.
            Selling a home has turned out to have huge gray areas. There is a fine line between what is legal and what is morally right. We found a legal proposal to fixing our existing septic system, but after third and fourth opinions,  we have chosen to replace it completely...so it is in no way a detractor from someone wanting to buy it. Another gray area we have dealt with recently is whether or not we could keep the earnest money from our buyer that backed out. After looking into it for a day, we were told we had no right to it.
            Our next step is a huge gray area too...not just what to do from a monetary standpoint,  but also from a psychological standpoint. Part of me wants to just leave now and start our new life in Kansas...the other part of me is dealing with closure from all the ties and relationships we have built here for the past twelve years. Today when my eldest daughter said goodbye to her best friend who'd be gone for the next four weeks, I wanted to cry. I doubt we will still be here in four weeks. This could be the last time in a long time for them to see each other. I did cry a little later, but I chose to be grateful that my daughter had another chance to hang out with her bestie. One of our daughters is coping with our move by spending more time alone. She is a natural extrovert, so it's strange seeing her so reclusive.   I talked to her a couple of weeks ago about this, and it was a relief to hear her finally share how she was feeling through all this. We both agreed that the hardest part of this is not knowing what the future holds. Will our next house be as wonderful? Will we find friends quickly? Will we settle for another twelve years? We don't know these answers, but I encouraged her that when these thoughts raced to her mind to think about how God knows all about our future...He has promised plans to prosper us, not to harm us (Jer. 29:11). Our future may be shrouded in gray mystery, but my calling as wife to love, honor, and obey my hubby in both the good times and the bad is not. I made a promise, a vow in front of God and my family. God knew what those words would cost me, and He also knew all the good things that I would be blessed with as a result. I know our future together will hold challenges,  but ultimately good things as well.
        My five year old has been obsessed with drawing me pictures almost daily of rainbows. Below is my favorite that I named "Bridge Over Troubled Water With a Rainbow" (my daughter was willing to sell it for two cents). The rainbow reminds me of God fulfilling His promises.  I need that reminder a lot lately. The bridge reminds me of His help through the rough spots. Life is not just full of black and whites and gray areas. If you look hard enough through the sunlight and your tears, you will see the beautiful rainbow of His promises.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Backwards

           This morning I became reflective after I was doused in a good amount of baby vomit (mostly just milk with a small amount of sticky acetaminophen). Our poor little man is running a low grade temp because of getting a couple of vaccinations yesterday. In an effort to make him more comfortable,  I gave him some Little Noses dye-free grape medication. He grimaced and made horrible faces. I thought he disliked it, but I didn't expect him to then empty the contents of his stomach all over himself,  myself, and the floor. Some things are just hard to swallow.
               That's what this last week has felt like for me. We had our home inspection in Kansas (which produced one major fixable issue), we lost half of our chickens; and biggest of all, the buyer for our home walked away in the middle of negotiations. I know that God promises all things work together for good for those who love Him, but this was not an easy week. Romans 5:3-5 is one of those disturbing verses that makes you say "Really?" However,  today it seems fitting to my situation. It says, "We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love." I feel like I'm definitely developing some endurance after this week.
                 This week means fewer eggs, more showings, and more potential house hunting.  We know a good deal more about our home than we did a month ago, so we can address issues that were a problem this round. God has the right buyer for our house out there. This apparently wasn't the one. It feels like we took two steps forward, but one step backwards.  As long as we keep walking though, we will eventually move forward. If we chose to dance this path instead of walking, we might even enjoy this adventure. It's time to break out the boots.

The Duke

          Yesterday my five year old lost her very first pet, Duke, our lone Rhode Island Red rooster. He was beautiful and was almost fully grown. His tail feathers has just begun to grow longer with a lovely dark green to them. He had also begun to crow his trademark "cock-a-doodle-doo" first thing in the morning.
              Our next door neighbor called to apologize and tell us that their German Shepherd had seen our chickens out in the tall grass next to the road. Much to their chagrin, she began chasing and killing them. They tried calling her off,  but she had already killed several. We were saddened to find three hens and one beautiful rooster dead.  Five of our ten chickens survived and one remains MIA. My five year old hoped out-loud that her strong and fast rooster hadn't been killed, but I told her that if his hens had been threatened,  I was positive he would have charged out to fight and defend them. We found our rooster farthest from the barn as he flew into the dog and lost his life.
              Some of you may be wondering how much a little girl could love a cocky rooster...she loved him a whole lot. She picked him up and carried him around like a cherised cat. He happily laid on her chest. She spent hours picking worms and berries for him. He was the first living thing she was in charge of. 
            I've watched the two older grieve the loss of their first pets, and it always breaks my heart. I know that this is a part of life that just plain stinks, and this isn't the last time they will know loss from death. I'm glad that at the very least we can go through this together.
             My mom helps adults process their loss after losing family members,  so she has given lots of tips over the years that have really helped me with guiding our girls through this (plus I had a lot of experience as a little girl with losing pets and people). Yesterday when I gathered the chickens up, I said goodbye to them out loud. I stroked their feathers and told them my feelings that "I was sorry they died". I watched as my five and three year old did the same. When my dad died, I was afraid to touch him and that haunted me for along time afterwards. Now, it is one of the first things I do to say goodbye.  At first, my older ones said that the rooster was hurt too badly for me to pick him up, but I think it's important for our little girl that he was not left out in the open...that we "cared" for him one last time. I don't want her thinking that we deserted him for other animals to eat him, even if chickens are food. He was special to her.
           I think it's also a great idea to hold a small service for a pet. This is not our first one, so the older girls did some things that were meaningful to them like putting flowers in with their chickens. My second oldest even had all the living chickens peck the flowers as a way for the living to say goodbye to the deceased. I like to say a prayer to thank God for their part in our lives, but also to share how much we hurt and will miss them. I ask God to heal that hurt that I am feeling. I tell Him that I don't understand why, but that I trust Him. We usually sing a favorite song and say a couple scriptures. One of my favorites is the scripture that says how Job responded to loss: "the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)  We laid the hens into the hole first, so that even in death Duke could  "shield" them. Our five year old quickly pointed this out. The girls laid their flowers into the hole with them and we cried over them while sharing our favorite stories about them.
            My oldest offered to bake cupcakes to eat after the service, which models what many people do after traditional funeral services. We've had food after other animal services before. It's a comforting thing to eat something and share funny stories.
           My five year old stood with tears streaming down her face at our funeral. She was not alone. I cried right along with her and told her it'd be normal to feel sad when we saw our chickens missing from the survivors. Two of my hens were killed as well. We all gave her hugs as she sobbed about how she would miss her rooster. We know that we will have more chickens, but that there will never be another Duke. We talked about him at bedtime,  and spoke about how brave he was...how he had laid down his life for his hens...including my favorite, Charlotte.
           Hopefully, long from now, when she says goodbye to a person not only will the process feel familiar,  but she will also remember that her heart did heal after the loss of her pet. At least, we could walk this road together for her first time. I know this is just the beginning of her healing process, but I intend to be there with her along the way. Duke not only served as a great first pet, but also as a integral part in my little girl growing up and learning about a hard part of life. For that I will be forever grateful.
          What have you found to be a meaningful way to say goodbye? How have you helped or been helped to deal with loss?

Buried Treasure

             I love our house. I referred to it as our Promised Land, but right now it doesn't feel like it because we are in the middle of negotiating after inspections. We may have a septic issue that wasn't found on our inspection ten months ago, which is frustrating and tempts me to wail, "Gloom, despair and agony on me..."  We will know more after our "second opinion" tomorrow. (I debated with titling this post "House of Dreams or House of Poo?")
             There have been plenty of challenges in my life, and I have loved watching God work through them...I believe this too will be one of them. A couple years ago, my hubby left one easy, unfulfilling job for a challenging one with a company just starting up. Initially, there was a substantial pay-cut to deal with (pay would have increased as the business grew). To make a long story short, that job didn't work out...but my hubby ended up being offered an outstanding job just six months after leaving the unfulfilling one. One of the things that came out of that time with learning to live with less was my love for making jewelry. I got creative instead of bemoaning the fact that our income had changed and my resources for giving gifts were different. Although I apologize to the owner of my first creation (a dear teaching friend of mine), I eventually got better. I began looking at jewelry people were wearing and copied what I liked. Below is a picture of my favorite peice that I made last spring.
             I'm reading a book called "Respectable Sins", and one line really speaks to me at this time. It says, "If I complain about the difficult circumstances in my life, I impugn the sovereignty and goodness of God and tempt my listener to do the same." Although,  I wish sometimes life was easier...I'm learning that the bigger the challenge,  the greater the opportunity for God to come through.
          Have you heard the story about two twin boys? One was the eternal optimist and the other was constantly negative. Scientist conducted an experiment and placed the pessimistic twin in a room filled with cars, trains, and toys to boggle the mind. They placed the optimist in a room of manure. Twenty minutes later, they checked in on them. The negative boy was crying amid the room of toys because none of the cars were his favorite color. However, the optimist was covered in manure and happily digging around in it.  When the scientists conducting the experiment questioned why he was so happy, he exclaimed, "With all this poop, there's bound to be a horse in here somewhere! "
          I'm not sure why we are going through this septic issue, but I'm going to keep digging till I find my horse. God is big enough to bring something good out of this stinky issue, and He is big enough to bring something good out of yours too.

Blown Away

          Last year we had our house on the market starting in January. We had 17 showings and two open houses, but we didn't get our first offer till May 25th, 2012. It was exhausting keeping the house in what I felt needed to be a "state of perfection". "The tidier the house, the quicker the sale" is the general widsom concerning selling a home. It was not something I have been looking forward to at all. Last week, while decluttering and preparing to show the house, I had a thought. If God wanted to, He could just blind a person's eyes to anything they wouldn't like...to the clutter, to the spit up stains on the carpet (or the ear wax our dog rubs into it), to the cloudy windows in our bedroom...to all of it. Last year, no matter how perfectly I tried to keep the house, we still had no offers after 5 months of hard labor. We then recieved two offers within a week of each other. I hadn't done anything any differently...it was all just a matter of, I believe, God's timing.
          This year on May 25th, we listed our current home. We had two showings yesterday, an offer by 6pm, and papers to sign for the sale this morning. I am blown away by this! It happened so quickly that my head is still spinning. God gave us a great realtor who happens to be a very hard-worker and is always ready to serve. (I'm not sure our house would even be listed by now if another realtor had only been given the green light for listing it on a Friday night of a holiday weekend.) While waiting for all the paperwork to be finalized through the relocation company, we'd shown the house three times ourselves.  Three times, we had suffered the disappointment of the buyers being put off by various things...the most common was the proximity of our next door neighbors (we are only separated by a driveway). However, yesterday, someone was able to see past that the same way we did.
            The pressure is off. My fears are being blown away...fears that our house would be on the market for two years (like it was before we bought it), fears of double house payments,  fears of a long distance relationship, fears of having a very challenging summer with five children. The Holy Spirit is coming like a "mighty rushing wind" (Acts 2:2), and my burdened, over-heated heart is shouting "Hallelujah! "

Looking To The Hills

          Yesterday, the girls were in a panic over our rooster, Duke. He was laying on his side  digging his feet into the wood chips, which resulted in him spinning in a circle. The description reminded me of a clip I vaguely remember of Curly from the Three Stooges laying on the floor spinning. They told me that he couldn't get up.  By the time I came down to the barn, we realized he COULD stand up because he was standing next to the barn door, a little wet...but fine. I'm still unsure why he did that, but I saw the matted circle left from his spinning.  I could be just like Duke these days. When I wallow in negative thoughts, I have the same silly circle dug into my mind. I run and run, but go nowhere. Looking up is what I need to do.
            Today, moving and everything that goes with it seems much more real. Adapting to change is not my strong suit. It makes me tired and weary. I've honestly been struggling for the past few days with just feeling tired and wanting to bury my head in the blankets. I miss my hubby, and I miss just relaxing and taking in the warmer summer weather. I don't feel like decluttering, and getting the girls into a cleaning routine to prepare for the showings that I anticipate.  However, I don't believe that God wants me to live by how I feel. Thank God that I have learned that I have a choice in the matter.
            Psalms 121 has become one of my absolute favorite chapters of the Bible. Today, as I began to feel weary this Psalm started playing in my head,  like a much loved LP. The first four verses say, " I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep." I was outside at the time, and when I looked at the hill behind our house I could feel God's presence and strength filling me up with what I need for today. I don't know what you are facing today, but I know God is watching over you the same way that He is watching over me. All you need to do is look up and cry out. His strength is there for the asking.