FROM THE BELLY OF THE WHALE

...and Sunday came...

2011-04-24T08:55:00.000-04:00

But Jesus, with a loud cry, gave his last breath. At that moment the Temple curtain ripped right down the middle. When the Roman captain standing guard in front of him saw that he had quit breathing, he said, "This has to be the Son of God!"

***

All of creation surely held their breath waiting. Soon. Humanity would be once again reconciled to their creator. The sting of death and their separation from God, would be swallowed up in the victory of the Resurrection. Instead of a monumental, loud crescendo, God in true form revealed himself to his friends, quietly in a garden tomb, with barely a hint of all that truth would mean for every person who has lived since that day.

***

10 Then the disciples went back to their homes. 11 But Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she cried, she bent over to look into the tomb. 12 She saw two angels dressed in white. They were seated where Jesus' body had been. One of them was where Jesus' head had been laid. The other sat where his feet had been placed.
13 They asked her, "Woman, why are you crying?"
"They have taken my Lord away," she said. "I don't know where they have put him."
14 Then she turned around and saw Jesus standing there. But she didn't realize that it was Jesus.
15 "Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who are you looking for?"
She thought he was the gardener. So she said, "Sir, did you carry him away? Tell me where you put him. Then I will go and get him."
16 Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned toward him. Then she cried out in the Aramaic language, "Rabboni!" Rabboni means Teacher.
17 Jesus said, "Do not hold on to me. I have not yet returned to the Father. Instead, go to those who believe in me. Tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.' "
18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news. She said, "I have seen the Lord!" And she told them that he had said these things to her.
***

...their beloved soldier...

2010-11-03T09:18:00.004-04:00

Master Corporal Anthony Klumpenhouwer

The years since I wrote the post below have brought much to this precious family. Births, graduations, and all the many celebrations that come with belonging to such a large family. But, as the days and weeks and years pass, the ache for what could have been, for one more day, never subsides. November 11th is Rememberance Day in Canada. On the 11th day of the 11th month at the 11th hour we stop and remember. As a child I sat in the packed school gymnasium while decorated soldiers spoke of sacrifice. What did that mean to a child? I would stop wherever I was at 11:00am while everything paused for a moment in and I would follow along, quieting my thoughts, fidgeting with the poppy pinned to my coat. Yet, until I observed the sacrifice in the face of a grieving loved one I could never truly internalize the cost. Never before could I picture the mommies and daddies who drop to the ground in devastation, as a uniformed man stands solemnly in their kitchen. Nor could I imagine the ache that each Christmas or birthday party will always bring - an empty seat and a void. Freedom costs... much more than even the lives of our young soldiers. It costs the very souls of many left behind. Those who live on cloaked in the weight of the loss. They will never forget - and we must always remember.

We heard the awful news last night on the way home from AWANAS. The girls told us that their friends’ brother had died in Afghanistan. Immediately my heart sank as I thought of this young man whom we had not seen for a long time. He had been a soldier for a few years now.

When I got home I looked up the news station on the Internet to see if there were any more details about him. The top story Canadian soldier dies in accident in Afghanistan. Reading that was almost surreal because I could picture the young man they were talking about. I have sat at the family’s long dinner table after church with his whole family – all thirteen brothers and sisters, a mom and a dad … and always a few guests. I remembered the new pictures hanging on the wall as you come in the door of their home. Portraits of the whole family together: a snapshot of how they have all grown together through the years. The later pictures show an ever enlarging bunch as many of the kids have married and brought children of their own into the fold.

My heart broke as I thought of them. For the media: those who watch the news or read the papers he will be another soldier killed in Afghanistan. A headline too soon forgotten, but for the family, he is a beloved son, a brother, an uncle, a cousin, and a friend. He is a face that will be missing from family pictures and a warm soul that will never sit at their table again.

My prayers and tears are with them as they begin to say goodbye to a precious piece that makes them who they are.

...they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress.

He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed...He guided them to their haven.

Psalms 107:28-30

What do you SEE?

2010-10-18T10:30:00.000-04:00

How good are you at SEEing things? Especially things that have not come to pass yet. I love to read about inventors - people who SEE even when that vision is not yet tangible. SEE-ing in ministry helps motivate me to persevere, to put aside my insecurities and ambitions and press on. I just read Mary Beth Chapman's book "Choosing to SEE" about the tragic death of their five year old daughter and how the simple word "SEE" became a choice for them every day. Even now, when things are tough and heartbreaking and even when hope abound they make the choice to SEE.

This month our children are learning about INITIAVE - SEEing what needs to be done and doing it. We are studying the story of Nehemiah how he chose to SEE not just the visible crumbling wall but the unseen finished work. Nehemiah chose to SEE, and then to plan and act. And as he moved forward doing what needed to be done, others were inspired to follow. They will learn that when we do our part God shows up and does what only HE can do. For some it might appear to be a story about a building project but God knew it was so much more and this quote brings it all into perspective for me...

"Ezra reads the scroll, and God's word becomes more important to them than it had ever been before, because they actually witnessed and saw what God did. And there was an entire generation of children who had lived in a broken down city and as a result of SEEing what God did through Nehemiah and their parents and the adults of that generation, believed in God, in a way they had never believed in Him before. Nehemiah taught an entire generation to SEE things in a way they had never seen."

That's a challenge for me - and a vision I want to hold tight to. When we, as leaders, see what needs to be done and do it God can speak into our children and youth in ways we can only imagine... and do what only God can do. Can you SEE it?!

...flipping ahead...

2009-03-06T08:28:00.006-05:00

March 16th the doors will open and the children will race through the doors of our church for a week of Day Camp. Some will be hesitant, some will cling to a parent and many are ready to run (literally) from the minute they get there. They all know that something is going to happen that week but are not sure what that something is. By about three in the afternoon everyone has become acquainted and the place is buzzing with excitement. I can stand on the platform now and ask for volunteers and just about every hand will not only be raised, but children will begin to moan and whine and hold their hand higher, hoping for the chance to be the "chosen one". As I look down at the crowd and call one out I promise you they don't sit down and smile and my gesture, but rather they race to the front of the stage, ready for whatever is coming next. Not an ounce of hesitation is evident, they are completely present in the moment and awaiting your next words. They know that whatever I have for them to do is going to be good.

And then I am humbled.

Humbled at the realization that this is what Jesus is looking for in me. When he calls my name. When He choses me for a job, I know He would love me to race to his side eager to hear His instructions. Attentive to His voice and calling ready to act.

There was a day when I was like that. I was a child then. I embraced the call with everything that was in me and doubts were squashed under my readiness to act. Now, I have grown, and matured, discovered many of my weaknesses. I've realized my list of shortcomings is huge and accepted that I'll never be wise enough, talented enough, educated enough... I've become adept at making excuses and settling for a big pile of mediocrity. Kind of like the man we are going to be learning about at Day Camp.

Meet my buddy Moses.

This guy stood, barefoot, in front of a burning bush, listening to the voice of God and his response was basically, "Sorry God, I'd love to help you out but...well, there's these sheep... and I have a bit of a stutter, so THAT would work would it?... and well, I could recommend my cousin if you're still interested in this whole, letting your people go thing... do you want his number?"

I've been reading about him, preparing for camp and smiling at His foolishness. I confess I have an advantage over him. I can flip the pages of my Bible and read ahead. I know about the plagues, and the passover, and the parting of the Red Sea. I've read about Joshua and the wall of Jericho, of the Promised Land and the fulfillment of all God's promises. I can flip back and read about his sister, Miriam, caring for him in the bulrushes, and his childhood amongst Egyptian royalty. I can see how his whole life had prepared him for this task and I know what God did through Moses.

But, sitting on a hill, all this shepherd could see was the Midian landscape where he had taken up residence. This vista represented his escape from his mistakes and from an identity he wanted to deny. In this field, a world away from the king's palace, Moses had safely curled up amongst the sheep content to live out his days in complacency.

But God could see, and we know God had a plan.

Jeremiah 29:11 promises us that God still has plans. Just like unsuspecting Moses, He has a job for me, for you, for all of us. His desire is that we become like the children in Mark 10 who race to his side, eagerly anticipating what His words, not like Moses hunkered down amongst the sheep making excuses. (As if it was about me in the first place!)

Do you ever wonder what Jesus said as they ran to his lap? What did He see as He looked in their faces? What does He see when He looks in yours? Maybe it's time to climb on up and hear for yourself...

The people brought children to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus was irate and let them know it: "Don't push these children away. Don't ever get between them and me. These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God's kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you'll never get in." Then, gathering the children up in his arms, he laid his hands of blessing on them. Mark 10:13-16

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

When the LORD saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, "Moses! Moses!" And Moses said, "Here I am." "Do not come any closer," God said. "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground." Then he said, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God. The LORD said, "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey—the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt." But Moses said to God, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" And God said, "I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain." Moses said to the LORD, "O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue." The LORD said to him, "Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD ? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." But Moses said, "O Lord, please send someone else to do it." Then the LORD's anger burned against Moses and he said, "What about your brother, Aaron the Levite? I know he can speak well. He is already on his way to meet you, and his heart will be glad when he sees you. You shall speak to him and put words in his mouth; I will help both of you speak and will teach you what to do. He will speak to the people for you, and it will be as if he were your mouth and as if you were God to him. But take this staff in your hand so you can perform miraculous signs with it." Exodus 3:4-12 & 4:10-17

...fingerprints...

2009-02-26T13:50:00.002-05:00

My friend would have turned 51 this year. As I read this again I am reminded of the legacy she has left in her children and the empty place at every family dinner. Despite their loss I can see the smudgy fingerprints she has left all over them, and indeed anyone who crossed her path.
I was standing outside the house, gardening the day she drove up and told me she had been to the doctor. The cancer had come back she said. It was so matter-of-fact that I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly but in the days to come she, her family and friends began to process the news.

Her story has been nothing short of a miracle really. Before we had even met she had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma and given two years to live. I remember her telling me how she began at that time to pull away from her friends, from her family...preparing to say goodbye. And then, with only the intervention of God, she was healed. She went on to have twins and when they were about a year old we met. Our boys were nursery buddies.

It wasn’t long until we were welcomed into the fold. You didn’t stay a stranger long in her circles. Hers was a house you walked right into - the door was always open. No need to knock - just pull up a chair, pour a coffee and join the conversation. She share her home, her life and her faith. Often she would tell me about someone here or there she had met, shared her story with and led to the Lord. Oh, yes, and they would be coming over shortly if I wanted to meet them.

The year the cancer came back the two of us were home schooling our children and spent time almost every day together. It was that year she went through her first round of chemo. She was determined to stay strong, not let it affect her but even in the early days it was a struggle. Despite her weakness, with God she was strong. Bad news, cancer or otherwise was to be taken to God in prayer and WE were to keep on being obedient. During that time I watched her continue to touch those she encountered every day.

I remember one ladyspecifically from our small town who also had cancer. The two of them had their appointments on the same day in the city hospital. She recognized her in the waiting room and went over to talk. She shared her story and gave hope to one who sitting quietly in a hospital needed something greater to live for. Cancer was not as strong as faith on that day. It wasn’t just because she was a people person either - it was because she knew the power of a life saved. Saved from sin and saved from death.

She loved. Her friends and her family. If you were over in the afternoon she would always get the coffee ready so that when her husband came home it would be waiting for him. She was always looking for ways to honour him. She was a typical mama and fiercely proud and protective of her children. She prayed over them, worried over them, bragged about them - loved them. They each bear a part of her and will carry a legacy of faith throughout their lives.

She loved life. She fought and prayed to live as long as God would allow. She reminded me often we have not been promised a life without struggles and heartache but we are called for a greater purpose. It is not that grand purpose for which many ascribe; fame, or knowledge, or significance, but rather a life of obedience and service. In the seemingly mundane "daily-ness" of life you could catch glimpses of Heaven as bodies were healed and even more miraculous lives were restored. In was in those everyday events, with everyday people that she became the hands and feet of her Savior.

On her family, her friends, and even strangers, she left indelible fingerprints that have touched our hearts and made us so much the better to have known her.

She is finally in the place her heart has resided for so long. Today, she sees it all, not as a mere reflection in the mirror, but clearly revealed in the face of her Saviour. For her there is no more suffering but only joy as she saw Jesus, waiting at an open door to take her in His arms and welcome her home.

Now our knowledge is partial and incomplete, and even the gift of prophecy reveals only part of the whole picture! But when full understanding comes, these partial things will become useless. When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 1Corinthians 13

...perfect timing...

2008-05-30T10:19:00.000-04:00

We celebrate Little T's birthday this weekend. Surrounded by family and friends I am reminded of the visible hand of God carrying our little guy right to our home. We've shared 3 birthdays now with our little guy and he is a growing mixture of life. He never stops and as tiring as that is - birthdays remind me to slow down and enjoy the journey... This old entry is a good reminder of where we've been... Happy Birthday Little T!

**post from last March**

Part of sitting in the belly of the whale is waiting. Waiting to change. Waiting for what will be. Waiting on God. While you sit, you may know in your head that God has something in store but your eyes cannot see what it is. It is a place where all of Heaven is busy working at what is unseen through our eyes.

It was in that place that we began to pray for our youngest son. In the spring of 2003 we started the very long process of becoming foster parents. Papers were filled out. Screenings and interviews were done. Finally, the day came and we were finally approved to be foster parent. Our hearts beat in expectation.

Then nothing happened.

What did happen was a long process of praying, waiting and wondering if a child would ever come our way. We were encouraged to be patient. To wait for the right match. But, to anyone that knows me patient is the last word they would use to describe me. I'll work hard, come up with great ideas on how to accomplish something, to speed up the process, to make t happen...anything but wait.

And then, on a Friday afternoon, when we were going about everyday things, we got the call.

Our worker had a "referral" they would like us to consider. The referral being a 19 month old boy. Reports were faxed over and we spent the weekend trying to digest every morsel of who this little guy was and all the pain this he had experienced in his short life. We wondered what he looked like. What he liked to do. We were unsure how he would fit in our family. Did we have the ability to do this? In many ways this wait was like birthing a baby - soon we would see his face, hold his hand, gather him in our arms and never let him go.

A few days later we found ourselves driving up to a home where "Little T" lived. Peeking through the back window was one the most beautiful children I had ever seen. His gerber baby cheeks and huge blue eyes were mesmerizing. He was perfect. We had not been in the house for more than a few minutes when he began to bat his eyelashes and turn on the charm. He warmed up to Big T right away, bringing him toys and books. In that instant every doubt was driven away. I just sat and watched him play. Telling myself over and over again that I was going to be his mommy. This was our new son. The one that we had prayed for. Soon, we would bring him home and he would meet the rest of his family. A big brother and two big sisters. A forever family... and we would be so much the richer for him being there.

And now two years later our little guy has grown leaps and bounds above all hopes they had for him. What a testimony to God’s perfect timing and fit. Every day he teaches me patience. To live right here - in today - and let tomorrow rest in God’s hands.

In fact it was quite a while after he came into our home that I realized how perfect that timing was. You see we began the process of becoming foster parents, and of praying for the child that would come into our home in the Spring of 2003. That was the exact time that Little T was born. I believe we were left waiting all that time because he needed his mom and dad to pray him through through that tumultuous time in his life. If we had rushed ahead in impatience we would not have felt that empty unseen spot that Little T would eventually fill. We would not have seen so clearly the exquisite tapestry that God was weaving as he brought us together as a family. While his face was unseen to us before his first heartbeat he was fully known to the God that holds him in the hollow of his hand.

***************

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

PSALMS 139:13-16

...coffee anyone?...

2008-05-09T13:25:00.009-04:00

This Red Rock called Coffee Pot Rock can be seen out our front door. In fact everywhere you look you see these majestic rocks. They surround you! This picture is from a hike to the top of Sugarloaf mountain on one of the MANY trails you can walk to and through in Sedona.

And as you can see by the

choices, it a pretty easy trek.

But oh, so beautiful!

They made it to the top and as you can see, Little T was busy creating his own castle in the red sand!

And the big kids were applying their War Paint.

...two more sleeps...

2008-05-01T12:28:00.005-04:00

For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. Romans 1:20

Only two more sleeps and we are off to see the beauty of Arizona. Pictures are as close as we have been to the Red Rocks of Sedona or the majesty of the Grand Canyon. Soon we will see it all face to face. We are looking forward to a relaxing and inspiring vacation. Hoping that time stops for just a few weeks as we relish in, not only the beauty of our surroundings but the bliss of being a family. Come along for the ride, we'd love to have you join us.

...Is God Afraid of Our Questions??...

2007-08-27T11:17:00.000-04:00

I have been listening to the accounts of the news about Mother Theresa. They are headlining her crisis of faith...her doubts about God...her deepest questions.

I find it strangely comforting to hear that.

In fact, I find it hard to relate to those who plod along without question. Because as a human, with only finite wisdom, questions are surely part of our walk whether we are a nun, or a pastor or an ordinary girl who calls herself a Christian.

In 1 Corinthians 13:12 Paul writes..."Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

Seems to me that God must have meant for us to questions life and God, otherwise He would have given us the whole picture. But that is the hope of Heaven. We will see it all. Laid bare before us will be the understanding of the masterpiece that is God's plan for creation. In knowing this every tear will be wiped away, every lingering doubt cast off and all sorrow laid to rest. Here we will know to the very core of our being that God is good and His ways are perfect.

...what a hope...

But until then I am so glad that I can come to God to question. Is He good?, does He exist? and why?... why?... doubting God gives Him the opportunity to show Himself to us, to stregthen our faith.

And when my striving wearies me I will "be still and know that He is God." Even if at times the knowing is the faintest of convictions. I will believe that God is who He was when I was most close to Him. I will trust that when my feelings change, God doesn't. He remains truth.

truth.

And, if you wonder why Mother Theresa and a multitude of other doubters hung on, even limply, to their faith, I think that it is because while we are weak and wavering, God is strong and woos us to His side. He never stops revealing Himself to us. I bet God sees our spirit's core belief in Him, even when our head and our heart pile up with doubts and questions so thick we can't see through them.

And in that place where we accepted Him, spirit to spirit, we hold on, and wait for the day when we will know fully - like Mother Theresa and many others - even as we are fully known.

Question Him. Ask the questions buried deep inside that stand in the way of complete faith. Shed the pretense of religion and propriety, if you must, and be honest before the King of Kings. He is big enough, and strong enough to take it from Mother Theresa... and the likes of you and me.

...the new puppy...

2007-08-23T09:53:00.000-04:00

It's not unusual to come into my kitchen and see a cute blonde boy and a big white hairy dog curled up on the carpet. Usually the boy is feeding the dog his peanut butter sandwich or individual pieces of kibble. The dog is usually slapping his tail on floor with a happy thump, thump. I love their relationship. From the day Little T came into our home almost three years ago they have loved each other. When all the people around him were still strangers that big gentle dog was a safe place to head for a hug. Little T doesn't care if she smells, or leaves hairs all over his clothes. Their love is unconditional and their relationship has warmed my heart.

And that is why I was so concerned when our dog went missing.

During the warmer weather she sleeps outside and has an invisible fence collar to ensure she doesn't wander out of the backyard. The collar is largely uneccessary as she is generally found sunning in my garden beds or lounging in the sandbox under the deck - or playing with the kids. When I went out on Sunday morning I didn't see her anywhere. We were on our way to take the girls to camp and rushing around so I sent Coco out to fill up her food bowl and water and soon we were off to camp.

That night I completely forgot about checking on her and Monday morning I went out to give her food and the bowl was still full. Then I began to worry. We hunted through the neighbourhood, called the vets and dog catcher but no one had seen her. She had seemingly gone missing.

I don't think it fully hit me as I expected to look out the window and see our white furry friend come bounding up to the front door to see his best friend. But she did never show up. And my mind went quickly to Little T and what we were going to tell him. I called him over and gave him the news. He looked up and matter-of-factly stated we needed to get a new dog. As if it would never occur to a four year old that a house would not have a dog in it.

When my husband and I spoke about it that night he agreed that we needed to look for a new dog for Little T. But we both agreed that we would never find a dog more gentle and perfect anywhere.

I got on the internet the next day and began researching breeds and sizes and availability. We agreed on one breed that we wanted to look at and found a place nearby to go visit. That night we headed out with little T and his brother Coco to see the dogs.

And, that night we came home with a little 10 week old Schnauzer/Wheaton terrier cross. Her name is Lucy and she is a little perky doll. She is remarkably quiet and cuddly for a puppy and Little T is beside himself with happiness. He has been carrying that dog around everywhere creating another special puppy/boy relationship.

I wasn't really sure I wanted to take on another pet. When our golden came into our house whe was already 2 years old, well mannered and extremely hairy. I cleaned up fur constantly wondering what I had gotten myself into. There were many days I wished we lived in a pet-free house. And when she went missing I thought back to those days wondering if we could be free of that. And then I looked at Little T and remind myself of the love they share. I counted the cost of the training, the pooping and peeing, the grooming, the vet bills, the whole package. It was going to cost me convenience and stretch me to clean up messes but it was going to give our children, especially Little T a relationship that is worth the cost. When we got to the breeders the puppies all looked exactly the same. How were we going to chose. And then we picked up little Lucy and I handed her to my husband. She promptly laid her head down on his hand and made herself at home...and we just had to bring her home.

We will miss our big puppy - maybe someone will find her and bring her home and we will have double the mess and double the joy. But if not we will enjoy little Lucy and this new puppy chapter and remember fondly our big white mutt.

...leave it to beaver has nothing on us...

2007-08-03T11:36:00.000-04:00

We went to look at an awesome old house in town this week. I have been through it before the last two times it has been for sale. Both times we decided that it was more than we could afford and walked away. When we saw the for sale sign this time around, even with the increased price tag we considered it again. So earlier this week we trekked around the property, tape measure in hand, checking old beams, sloped floors and possibilities.

I have to confess that I am a sucker for an old house. If only the walls could speak I would sit and listen to the stories of marriages and babies, of celebrations and wars, of change and progress. It was that I thought of as we wandered the halls countless padded feet had called home. This house, I found out, was the birthplace of Horatio Walker. I didnt know who that was until a few weeks ago when we visited the art gallery in Montreal and saw his name on a painting from our hometown. His art hangs in many art galleries in Canada as well as the Smithsonian and New York Art Galleries in the USA. Visions of a Bed & Breakfast danced through my brain.

Having lived and renovated a few old homes I tend to look critically at things most romantics might overlook. Dry rot, decaying stairs and porches, overgrown gardens, leaky roofs and uneven floors. Not to mention lack of air conditioning and closet space. If I have learned one thing a coat of paint, no matter how nice the colour, does not hold a house up.

But this house was in pretty good shape and we are finally in a position to afford a real renovation where we could hire people and everything. So we left and thought... Back and forth we went that night, discussing the ideas for improvements, how to market a B&B etc. We just didnt come up with a clear and peaceful answer.

The next night I went out to water the garden. I love to stand hose in hand and give refreshment to my plants. I imagine them perking up and blooming for me. As I stood by the pool trying to revive a drooping hydrangea I heard the sound of the kids screaming.

My son Coco had discovered a nest of mice under the composter. Enough that if you lifted the side you could see them scurry away. It didn't take long for him to bring over the neighbours to see the brood. As he lifted the composter a critter scurried across the vegetable garden only to be caught stunned under the hockey stick of a 12 year old boy. And that's when the squeals began. Within a few minutes there were a half dozen or so kids chasing the mouse all over the lawn, grabbing at whatever they could find to catch it. Alas, it was the hockey stick that again caught the dazed mouse under its blade. Somehow they caught it up in one of my Ikea laterns off the patio. Inside its little prison the all came running over to me huge grins on all their faces. I smiled at their prize and turned the hose on the crew. Again screams filled the backyard as they all went running for cover.

Then I smiled. Before we built the house we live in this yard was just a cornfield. I watched the machines come and dig a foundation while I dreamed. I wanted my children to grow up like Beaver and Wally. With a street filled with friends of every age. Where I didn't have to make play dates but rather, after dinner people just headed outside to play. Where spontaneous games of hide and seek intermingled with the discovery of rodents. Where the neighbours looked out for your children and trusted you to look out for theirs. It was a great dream but the reality is so much better. I love that we can give my guys this kind of childhood. I'm thankful that it still exists.

And, as we walk these halls, we leave stories also...hidden in walls that remain silent. But the memories are clear in our hearts and minds.

Another round of screams erupts from the side of the house, its the mouse again. I focus again on watering my plants and smile. Sometimes decisions are not decided on paper but in the the laughter of children.

...mystery in the news

2007-07-27T11:03:00.000-04:00

A mystery was revealed in the news this week...only a few blocks from where I grew up, in a house that looks very similar, a package was found. The "Package" contained a tiny mummified baby boy wrapped in newspapers, dated 1925. An initial autopsy was done that determined the baby was not murdered, nor did he die of a disease however, they were unable to determine whether the baby had been born alive. Further searching by reporters noted that a couple purchased the house in 1925 and it was sold by the state in 1941 when the man died and the wife was living in a Psyciatric hospital. What was she tormented about?? I want to know... Was it her son or someone she knew...

I've stated before I hate to NOT know something. I remember being a child and hearing about a young girl who had gone missing. Every time we would drive somewhere the news would be on and I would hear further details that had been divulged about the investigation. It may have been the result of reading too many Trixie Belden books but I grabbed an empty notebook and set out to find some answers. I titled my page: "Who Killed ____ _____" which of course was the headline. And then I wrote down the facts as I knew them, figuring that once I got the details straight, me, not the police, would have the answer... or not...

This baby in the ceiling story though, begun long before I was born, grips me. I want to know what happened. I want to know who these people were. What was going on and why she was sent to the asylum. If the news doesn't divulge this information I may just have to sit down at a keyboard and create my own story - if only to satisfy me own curiosity

...one smooth stone...

2007-07-24T20:39:00.000-04:00

The young boy stood, staring straight ahead, resolved to finish the battle started by the Giant he faced. Behind rocks and craters the soldiers peered out at the child and trembled in their armour. This was the point of no return and in the balance hung the freedom of every man. Their minds raced back to the comfort of days past, as they recalled the familiarity of avoidance. Sitting in limbo was a much safer option than what faced them all right now. How long had that mighty soldier disgraced them? No, it had long become more important for this army to be safe than to risk it all in what appeared to be a suicide mission.
Until the boy came along, stirring up trouble and unspoken fears. With his akward stance, he stood, hands and feet to large for his gangly body. And his question raised the hairs on the back of the mighty men of God’s army. Really. It wasn’t about who was mighty enough to fight this monster, because the truth was he was bigger and stronger than any of them. Despite the strong jawlines and muscular stance of each of the king’s men no one could stand face to face with this enemy and look him in the eye - this giant that taunted them incessantly. Deep in the recesses of their heart was a nagging far stronger than the giant’s. "Was the God that they stood for, who had called their people "Chosen." even strong enough? They spent their days waiting for a sign, or a flash from the sky. One that would secure their safety and prove they served the one true God. Then, this adolescent entered the camp, stepped on their toes and dare to insinuate that they should do anything but wait. The thought that someone should step up and fight sent a wave of discomfort through the ranks.
Even after it was agreed that he would be the one to go, the king looked to secure his victory with the trappings of a common soldier. But no, the young boy would not don the armour and mighty sword to defend his God but rather the familiar choice of five smooth stones. And, face set towards the enemy he walked away from the camp with a backbone no man there had ever witnessed.
And as he stood alone, stone in hand, David, and the people he would one day be king of, stood, waiting.
Either God was who He said He was or they had all been decieved..
It was a fear of the truth was what kept them cowering behind rocks, living in tents, waiting endlessly for God to make a move.
Even now, they stood, ready to run away, fearing the worst as Goliath stood unhumanly tall mocking the boy. Had he looked closely he would have seen the fire of God blazing behind David’s eyes...and he might have glimpsed the destiny of this youth. But rather, mired in conceit, he spewed threats and barbs. And then...shoulders back, arm poised David threw his stone.
The giant thumped to the ground.
The glory was not in the felling of the Giant, but a bolstering of the faith of a nation and a reassurance in the heart of each man The power and deity of their maker was laid bare and known to them. The fear that had immobilized the Israelites had been shaken to its very core and at its root they discovered the greatness of their God displayed not in the might of a sword but in a small round stone placed in the hand of a young boy.

...the Clampetts hit the Concrete Jungle...Day One...

2007-06-26T12:08:00.001-04:00

So I’m wondering if this past weekend was someone’s way of giving me blog fodder ‘cause it was choc' full of stuff. We took the three older kids on a mini vacation to Montreal to soak up the French culture of our Quebec neighbours. It was a road trip - eight hours of driving across the province. I spent the earlier part of the week planning, catching up on laundry (my Favourite pastime - ha!) And perusing the internet for things to do and places to eat that would give us the whole experience. Big T booked a hotel on this site where you choose the number of "Stars" you want to pay for and they suprise you with a hotel that has a cheap room available. We got a 4-Star Sheraton room for just over a hundred dollars a which was a far cry from their $300 regular price - the reviews online were mixed but thie weekend was all about spontanaiety and I could rough it at the Sheraton right?! So what if the tiles are onlyceramic and not tumbled marble...we were ready!

The morning dawned - VERY EARLY. After last minute packing and sandwich making til after midnight we were tired. The crew packed everything in the car, got Little T settled at Pre-school reminding him that Grandpa was going to pick him up at lunch and off we went.
The day was bright and the fields we sped past were green and teeming with cows and horses enjoying an early morning breakfast of grass and sunshine. We broke out the fruit and veggies and sat back for the drive...

The first leg of the trip was to end at one of my favorite places - IKEA!! Yep, I got my fix wandering around the biggest of all big box stores. Heaven - pure bliss! I got great deal on a terracotta planter that I’m going to fill with succulents and a million ideas on how to arrange MDF laden, ready to assemble, strap it to the roof of your car and bring it home furniture. We ended by springing for the obligatory 75 cent frozen yogurt for the kids and off we were.

With five and a half hours left we also made a stop at my other favorite big box store, Chapters, (also known as Borders I think in the USA). We picked up an audio version of Tuck Everlasting to listen to while we drove. It was a good book and made me think a whole lot for a children’s novel... perhaps another blog??

As dinner time closed in we finally saw the sign - Welcome to Quebec - only it was in French! After that every sign was in French and the kids spent the last leg of the trip attempting to pronounce with reeeeally bad accents all the French words.

And then we were there. Driving down the city streets in all their glory. It felt good to be back in the concrete jungle and all its familiar sites. Overpriced parking lots to begin with. The hotel parking was ON TOP of our room rate and after picking up our little ticket we drove deep through the low ceilinged abyss of the underground lot. Four floors below the sidewalk we finally found a spot, pulled our bags out of the trunk and headed for the elevator.

The hotel was really nice... escpecially the lobby. We requested a room with a view and got one on the 28th floor. Other than the CN tower this was probably the highest building they had ever looked out. I have to admit the view was incredible and I spent a lot of time trying to take a picture of the vista only to continually take a picture of the reflection in the mirror!

We got cleaned up and wandered down to the city streets to find our first French restaurant of the weekend. That’s when reality hit me...my children are like the Country Mice. They have no sense of danger, or the meaning of street lights or crowds. They are so un-citified and think they can talk to everyone they meet. They are their dad’s children in that way. I grew up in Toronto and the energy of the city gets my heart pumping. No where else can you find such diversity in so little square feet. The business man walking purposefully, head held high in his four-thousand dollar suit ambles past the man dressed in rags, looking up from a step, coffee cup in his hand, waiting for a dime. The students in their artsy clothes and trendy hair stand around as if this is their backyard and in a way it is. The women, out on the town, dressed up and adorned with jewellery and perfume walk up the street beside old man, walking with a cane down the familiar street he has traversed for almost seventy years. People, everywhere, some with a place to go, some still looking.

I love to watch them sweep their eyes across the unfamiliar view. To see it for the first time. To know how different their little world really is.

By the time we pulled the covers over our shoulders and tried to settle the troops it was after eleven and the weekend had only just begun.

...when life gets in the way of blogging...

2007-06-12T11:27:00.000-04:00

On the camera phone coming out of anesthetic!

Well, ya... that is my excuse for not typing here for almost a month. Not great when my initial goal was to write everyday. The perfectionist in me wants to write an inspired post every time and sometimes in the midst of running after a pre-schooler who has escaped onto the road yet again and trying to educate 3 often unwilling students inspiration is lacking. So, I'm going to forgo the clever excuses and keep writing - not because I have inspiration or even because anyone is reading but because I made that commitment to myself and its a good one to keep.

...and so to sum up the last month of bloglessness we have been enjoying the beautiful weather that has come to our neck of the woods...

We have opened the pool, fertilized the grass, mowed a few times, stained a fence and 2 decks (almost!), tidied the yard and attacked the weeds. We have also spent much time in the hospital since "Pickle" started off the season by breaking the two bones in her forearm... Big T and the older kids were at his baseball game when Pickle fell off the monkey bars she was hanging upside-down on. She came wandering up nonchalantly to the ball diamond and asked one of the girls if her arm was supposed to look like "that". And by "that" she meant bent in a horribly wrong way between the wrist and elbow... She soon found out that no, they were not meant to look that way and a long night in the emergency room was in order.

You know you live in a small town when the doctor has to call her husband a few too many times on his cellphone so that he can leave his post-soccer game to come administer the anathesic to our daughter. Around midnight she finally tracked him down and he came in. Not long afterwards she was fitted with a beautiful green cast.

The next week she had to go to a larger city nearby to see the orthopedic surgeon who removed the cute green cast that was set just below her elbow with a boring white one that is set just below her underarm.

We remedied the white cast with a blanket of colourful sharpies but she still is not happy that she cant move her arm for 6-8 weeks.

Also... our cat Emmy had kittens. They are soo cute! Cats take 9 weeks to gestate. That is wonderful knowledge if you know when she um...had relations with the neighbour cat - but if you just sent her outside because of her incessant meowing you might not recall that date exactly... you will be able to make an educated guess by the size of her growing belly and the discontent that she seemed to be feeling the day of. The evening of actually. She was meowing and complaining and hunting for a spot to birth - even though I had made a nice one. Then, just after dinner she crouched down in the hallway and made a horrible noise. Cookie starts yelling, "Mom. the cats limping, she hurt her leg!!" I counter that her leg is fine but she must be about to have the kittens. I yell for my farm boy husband to come and gently carry her to the box. He respond to the cries by scooping her up before she heads downstairs and as he is heading for the box out drops kitten number one... momma proceeds to stop in the hall to clean her up while Big T proceeds to record the icky goodness with our camera's video tool... I wont post that here. But a few hours later she had given birth to three mini-Emmys and a black kitty and a tabby kitty who obviously look like their dad... One cream baby has died but the other ones are almost a week old and growing and getting cuter by the day.

Other than that - life has been uneventful... just the way we like it!!

...growing up...

2007-05-16T17:33:00.000-04:00

I can remember vividly the excitement of going away on a Youth Retreat for the first time. Everything was thoughtfully packed away in my bag. I made sure that I had the right clothes, the right makeup and hair products. I thought about who I would sit with on the bus and where on the bus we would park ourselves for the three hour ride to our destination. I was so excited.

The details of that weekend are a blur now. After all it was over 20 years ago that I boarded the bus that first time. But many other weekends followed and I eagerly anticipated each one during my years at youth. They were weekends spent with friends, old and new. Rushing to look my best at breakfast in the morning. Eyeing up the boys sitting together, trying so hard to look cool. Countless campfires and hikes and Games of capture the flag and snow volleyball. Services where my heart was moved and altar calls where we prayed together, cried together and grew together. I remember trudging back to cabins with friends, talking until late into the night. I remember pranks we pulled on the boys and the ones they pulled on us. Incredible memories and monumental decisions were packed into those days away from home.

And where did the time go?

Was it just yesterday I turned around and that life, my youth, was gone? The years slowly pile on each other, one by one, until you finally start to feel “grown up” but a small part of still feels 17 with all the same intense feelings that define those times in our life.

And now I find myself at the other end of the spectrum. My son will go away on his first youth retreat this weekend. Its hard for me to believe he’s old enough but underneath the boyish face I look at a young man is starting to emerge. I’ll send him on his way understanding just a little of the excitement he’ll be feeling. I’ll be the one to wait and pray while he begins his own journey to independence. I’ll start to trust others to begin to help influence and shape him. I’ll (try to) pry my fingers, ever so slightly, from the tight grasp I have on him. Knowing the One who loves him best has a secure handle on every detail of his life.

And I’ll anticipate the minute he comes back home full of stories and his very own memories. Oh. I’ll bask in those moments, knowing how fast life moves and how very few years I have left to keep him this close to his home and his mom.

...Spring Fever and Chocolate Bunnies...

2007-05-14T10:07:00.000-04:00

Big C searching for minnows.

After an extremely snowy winter spring has finally come to stay in our little neck of the woods. It may have been posted on the calendar a while ago, like March, but in Canada THAT is just a number on a page. Here we are unable to slip a pair of colourful capris over our white legs and don a new pair of sandals permanantly until May.

Little T and his sister "Pickle" playing with kittens.

There is something about this season that is so invigorating. New baby kittens and budding tulips aside, the brightness of the mornings and the soothing feel of the warm sun gives me the push I need to get us out to clean the yard, pick up all the toys, shoes, discarded mittens and other clothing that has found its way to the backyard. There are a few advantages to the snow however. In fact there is something revealing about spring's thaw that I wrote about here.

This is a view of our pool - wanna go for a dip anyone??!

This spring we purchased an invisible fence for our dog. She is a beautiful golden retriever with the most gentle personality. Her only flaw is that she can't find a spot on our 1/2 acre backyard that is QUITE RIGHT to do her "business" on. The neighbours yards all seem to have much more enjoyable spots to leave her treasures. And let me tell you how endearing that makes us to the neighbours. Because we have a huge backyard that would cost thousands of dollars to fence we just tried ever so hard to keep the dog on out property. But wanderlust reared its head again this spring and we gave in and spent the $399 on an invisible fence with a collar that zaps her if she runs too far. IT WORKS AMAZING. She sticks close to home and doesn't need to be tied to a rope outside. If you need one of these we found out after the fact that there are many sold on E-Bay because they work so well after a month or so people don't need them any more. It would have been useful information to have had before we spent $399 but it was worth every penny to me. The delightful side effect of the fence is her "tresures" seems to land near our back door which, while good for neighbourly relations can be a little hazardous for our shoes.

The dog & toddler contained...best buds!

It got me thinking/wishing for an invisible fence for toddlers.

Another advantage of having four feet of snow surround our house is that it is very HARD for three year old boys to walk very far. Even if he didn't have to be bundled up in boots,, snowsuit, hats, mittens and scarves that cover all but your eyeballs its hard. It tends to become a huge sandbox where he can sit oout for 10 MINUTES and make castles and snowlumps before he wants to come back inside to play.

But come spring thaw, the word "boundaries" leaves his vocabulary. (if it was ever there) He has found that a three year old can run so much farther when there is only grass beneath his feet. He can run right past the neighbours yard and onto the road. He can run towards the field where the green tractor plows the field, or he can hop on his bike and head to the park at the end of the street . Yes three years olds can head just about anywhere they take a notion to go when they have 4 wheels and orange crocs.

And so...these are the first places we looked when Little T went missing the other day.

I was doing laundry and trying to keep him inside (HA!) but he kept escaping out one of the doors. Then I would either yell for him, cofirming the "Crazy lady" rumour going around the neighbourhood, or run around looking for him, drag him back inside kicking and screaming, get him settled down and watch for his next escape attempt. He keeps me on my toes but I am developing a great radar.

But one slip up can cause the whole household into chaos.

This time I looked all the usual places the escappe usually heads and he was nowhere to be found. So I dispatched the troops (aka. my older kids) to the park, the road etc. We could not find the boy anywhere. I looked in closets, under beds and in bathrooms. I wondered if there had been a partial rapture for a minute even. But for the life of me I could not find the him. My heart was beginning to race a little faster and I had begin to offer up desperate little prayers.

Then I went back in my room for a minute and looked at my unmade bed. I thought I saw the duvet moved ever so slightly and figured I better investigate. Sure enough under my blankets I found this:

Yep... little stinker had kept quiet for a reason. I looked at him sternly and said, "DO NOT MOVE A MUSCLE BOY." and I ran to grab my camera.

Then I asked him. "Little T, what are you eating?"

He replied as the brown drool puddled on my sheets, "NUFFIN!"

"I See." Looking at him trying not to laugh and asked, "Well, there seems to be a few chocolate bunnies missing. Do you know who ate them?"

He nodded, a confession was forthcoming, "Yes mommy, Pickle. Pickle at the Bunnies!"***

...summer reading...

2007-05-11T20:04:00.000-04:00

So I am deciding on the books that I want to read this summer as I play lifeguard by the pool. Hopefully the writing will inspire me, make me smile, make me think and maybe nudge me to my knees a few times. Here are my picks. If you want to, join in and leave yours too.

Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson- I have started reading this one on a recommendation from another blog. Here is the description for this book:

Every year I think there must be more to life, and every year, despite a new car or a trip to a new land, new milestones and triumphs in my son's life, or a redone deck, a pool, a spa, or entertainment system, I take stock and think once again, I was made for more than this. But I love my stuff.

Heather Curridge is coming unhinged. And people are starting to notice. What's wrong with a woman who has everything--a mansion on a lake, a loving son, a heart-surgeon husband, and soapstone countertops--yet still feels miserable inside?

Yet when Heather spends the summer with two ancient Quaker sisters and a crusty nun in a downtown homeless shelter, she suddenly finds herself at a crossroads.

Sometimes you have to go a little bit crazy to find the life you were meant to live.

I am VERY slow going through this one, which is strange, because its a novel. Its not that its boring but I haven't sat down for a long stint and the book hasn't sucked me in emotionally like say a Karen Kingsbury novel.

But I am thinking and thinking is good.

I just read this:

"...normally read fast-paced mysteries and suspense, and quick reads in magazines and online. Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson wouldn't let me do that. The pacing of the book, which was perfect, slowed me down, forced me to think. The characters and setting are so vivid, so real, and the story so poignant, this book will stay with me a long time."

...and am glad cause it means I am not just losing my brain cells at an ever quickening rate!

Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis - This is one I have wanted to read for a while. It is simple and yet there is so much I want to understand in it that I am reading along at a snails pace. Maybe I should take notes - like on this blog - hey!!?? there's an idea.

90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper - Ever wanted to know what Heaven was like? This author was pronounced dead for 90 minutes and went to Heaven. Meanwhile a stranger on began to pray for this dead man and he came back to life and to this Earth. I have a lot of friends and loved ones that have recently gone and a friend said they were really encouraged after reading this book. That and the cool title helped it make my "must read" list.

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver - What a totally cool title. It intrigues me greatly. From the reviews I read its about Missionaries that head to the Congo with all they think they need and find out what they really need. Isn't that just how we all are...all the things, ideas etc. we really need - how much of that gets in the way of what God wants to do?

A Tale of Three Kings by Gene Edwards - I bought a new copy of this a while ago and though I have read my favourite snippets again I want to read this one from beginning to end.

Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Rolling by Neta Jasckson - YIPEE - the Yada Yadas are my favourite novels. Don't let the bright covers fool you - they are FAR from chick lit. Seriously, if you haven't read any of these books get thee to a store or a library AS SOON AS YOU FINISH READING MY BLOG!! This is a brief description of what cannot be encapsulated in a li'l ol' nutshell of a blog:

What do an ex-con, a former addict, a real estate broker, a college student, and a married mother of two have in common? Nothing, or so I thought. Who would have imagined that God would make a group as mismatched as ours the closet of friends? I almost didn't even go to the Chicago Women's Conference -- after all, being thrown together with five hundred strangers wasn't exactly my "comfort zone." But I would be rooming with my boss, Avis, and I hoped that maybe I might make a friend or two. When Avis and I were assigned to a prayer group of twelve women at the conference, I wasn't sure what to think. There was Flo, an outspoken ex-drug addict; Ruth, a Messianic Jew who could smother-mother you to death; and Yo-Yo, an ex-con who wasn't even a Christian! Not to mention women from Jamaica, Honduras, South Africa -- practically a mini-United Nations. We certainly didn't have much in common. But something happened that weekend to make us realize we had to hang together. So "the Yada Yada Prayer Group" decided to keep praying for each other via e-mail. That worked for a while, but our personal struggles and requests soon got too intense for cyberspace, so we decided to meet together every other Sunday night. Talk about a rock tumbler!--knocking off each other's rough edges, learning to laugh and cry along the way. But when I faced the biggest crisis of my life, God used my newfound girlfriends to help teach me -- Jodi Baxter, longtime Christian "good girl" -- what it means to be just a sinner saved by grace.

Every book deals with an aspect of the women's lives. You will come to love each quirky character for their real-ness. You will wish you were a part of Yada Yada. This one book deals with facing really painful situations, letting go, growing up. God is prodding them on. As the father Denny tells his daughter, “Sometimes God knocks the props out from under us to help us grow up. Life goes on. We have to keep rolling.”

Ouch and Amen!

And so... I am off to use my Chapters discount card to mail order the books I don't have on this list. In the meantime I'm gonna brew me an un-sweetened ice tea with lime and get ready to READ... please join me, there's plenty of room on the swing!

...pureed fries anyone?...

2007-05-11T10:45:00.000-04:00

I'm lovin' it...baby Ronnie!

...as quoted...

2007-05-09T20:13:00.000-04:00

"All children not claimed within 24 hours become the property of The Walt Disney World Corporation. They will be taken to the "It's a Small World" ride, their little feet crazy-glued to a piece of cardboard and taught to sing that ANNOYING song in 37 different languages!"

- Cruise Director on Disney's Jungle Cruise.

...Silly Songs With Sanjaya...the part of the show where we...GET BACK TO THE REAL SHOW!

2007-05-02T08:43:00.000-04:00

I have to confess that I would love to have seen Sanjaya back as a side show - JUST TO SEE what he would have done with his hair and clothes...imagine "Headbanging with Sanjaya".

...I am secretly a "rocker chick" at heart and I love me some Bon Jovi. But seriously was this not an amazing week on Idol? The kids stepped up and rocked the joint...

Phil must have earned himself a few million votes by picking this song. Blaze of Glory is one of those power songs and all his years of singing it with a comb in the mirror finally paid off. (How many stars got their start on a hairbrush I wonder?) Seriously he was da’bomb!

I mentioned to my hubby that he might want to get one of those Leather Jackets that Phil was wearing but he wasn’t sure it would go with his khakis and oxford...

Oh Jordin... you have some Rockin’ hair so don’t take Simon’s jabs to heart. But honey, you know after that performance you may just be "Stayin’ on a Prayer". I loved, loved that you agreed with the judges when they said it "wasn’t your best".

Laskisha and Simon Sittin’ on a stage
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love
Then comes marriage...
Oh yeah, "This Aint a Love Song" but the girl rocked! She was great, not screechy this week but I just can’t get over the fact that Simon liked Lakisha’s lips. Sooo...funny!

And for this week, I am officially a "Blaker Girl"... if I was 17 and single I’d be swooning. I was really worried what he was going to do "You Give Love a Bad Name". I mean, Beat Boxing Bon Jovi??!! Come on! But I was more than pleasantly suprised. He kept the rocky essence of this power-house song and added an incredible TWIST.

I was watching Gilmore Girls last night and one of the characters had to eat a big bowl of shredded wheat so that she could get her throat all scratched up so she could sing all "gravelly and rocky" Chris coulda used some of that cereal. He was a cutie this week, however, and while "Wanted: Dead or Alive" needs more guts and raunch to do it justice, the performance, like all the rest, was good.

Melinda DOOlittle... you DOO everything so well. From a gospel standard to BON JOVI! Seems that you channeled your Inner-Tina-Turner to pull this one off. You had fun, laughed at yourself and you "rocked-on" with perfection, thank you very much! I can’t wait to do church with you someday! You are my American Idol girl!

Now, unlike last week someone has to go home. I think it will probably be Chris or Jordin.

Phil, Melinda and Blake have got to stay.

Rock On Internets!

Back to Boomama for more...

...secret obsession revealed!!...

2007-05-01T13:39:00.000-04:00

So.. when I'm not blogging or chasing children or doing laundry again and again and again I am peeking into my secret obsession - blog reading. Here I can laugh with moms all over the world, share in their sufferings and try out a few new recipes. Some day I'll get my techie-head screwed on right and post my fav's on the side but until then... let me introduce you to some of the best writing in Bloggetyville.

The momma of all mamas is Boomama...She's got a heart of gold and her southern accent just makes me smile. I know I have never heard her in person but her writing is that good. Here are some of my favourites. Firstly, in honour of the less than stellar colour I am now sporting may I present Me and My Hair-Brained Ideas as an appetizer.... for a main course lets go with Serving the Internets One Clogged Artery at a Time and for dessert lets go with the trends and talk skinny jeans... If you are a TV kinda person this and this are hits. But be warned - her charmingness is addictive and you might never come back!

And a few new blawgs I am beginning to love.

Mental Tessarae has this post "From the Hazardous Area of my Mind" that shares the reality of worrying over our children's safety. Me and my imagination can so relate.

And another new favourite is My Best Investments. It is a blog written by a dad that takes an oh so funny view on life with kids. Hard to pick fav's but here and here and here are great starts.

And for a challenge to your faith and a glimpse into the strength of the human spirit read Heather's battle with a Brain Tumor here. She is really amazing and this Thursday she will be operated on to remove the tumor in hopes of saving and prolonging her life. There is an amazing prayer chain started by Kelli who has her own story of waiting for a transplant. Another blog that I peek in on is about Ashley Adams a little girl who is fighting for her life. She has had a triple organ transplant and now is fighting cancer. The miracle and glimpses of grace her mother shares are inspiring.

These three remind me life can be so hard but God is Good - ALL the time.

...the perfect guy...

2007-05-01T09:31:00.000-04:00

I met the perfect guy in church 2 Sundays ago! He was tall, had dark hair and eyes and olive skin. He was dressed pretty well too. But, what really got me was that he was really praising God as he sang. While I tried to sing my eye kept being drawn to him and as he raised his hand in worship my heart skipped a beat...THERE WAS NO WEDDING RING ON HIS HAND!!!

Perfect I thought. I looked over at my husband, two seats down from me and began to plot and plan. How was I going to get an introduction to this guy? Me, being the quite shy and only bold in my own head type of person, decided hubby would have to do the introductions and we would take this slooow and casual-like. But let me tell you, on the inside I was already picturing the wedding. He would be standing at the altar, waiting for his bride...

And my awesome (once) single friend would head down the aisle on her daddy’s arm to meet him. I would sit at the back of the church silently rejoicing at how God had used me that Sunday morning to find the love of her life. ...makes you want to get out a hanky and wave it in the air don’t it??!!

You must realize that this is all going on as I am trying to sing "Blessed be Your Name" with the rest of the congregation in majestic praise, but I think God understood that there was something going on here (right!?). And then the song changed. The atmosphere in the church became quiet, somber as we sang a slow song. I focused myself, closed my eyes and leaned forward with my hands on the seat in front of me to sing. After a moment I opened my eyes and looked down...And.There.It.Was...just staring at me...taunting me, if you will. A filled out visitors card for the very boy I was trying to get an "in with". Truly this was a God moment and my ol’ heart did a hallelujah... well, that, and all my self control fought within me NOT to be NOSY but to SING THE BEAUTIFUL SONG. But, alas, my flesh was too weak and I looked. I did it. I read his name. And I noticed that he lived in a nearby town...excellent I thought, no need for anyone to move away...Now, what church would they attend?? Hmmm... As I pondered that,, I looked down again to the bottom of the paper. He wanted a pastoral visit...this was really impressive...this man was serious about God. Oh, and as I read further it said "healing for my family" and, isn’t that wonderful that he loves his family. And then, oh yes, I read the word I never thought would be there. WIFE... He had a wife and wanted prayer to restore their marriage. And in that instant, while the band played and people all around me worshipped, my hopes and dreams crumbled into a little pile o’ sand at my church shoes. As I watched my matchmaking dreams go belly up (yet again) I had one small, TERRIBLE thought. "Maybe, it just won’t work out with his wife and then..." AND THEN I REPENTED and turned away from the closed door. I learned a long time ago not to sit and stare at doors God has closed wondering what might have been. Let me tell you though. It was hard.

You see my friend is the greatest. The friendship started when she was still in youth group and we helped out the pastor and his wife. She would sneak sugar laden donut-bites to my toddler hoping he would get hyper. And then I watched her grow into such a strong, beautiful woman. She has always been a support, someone I could ask to pray for me. She has told the truth, had my back, laughed with me and cried with me. We don’t hang out often enough. She’s a social butterfly, busy with a multitude of friends and activities.

And did I mention that she is single?

While she attended the weddings of her friends and siblings we all hoped that "the one" would come along for her. If anyone deserved a great guy it was this chickie. And, while I never meant to become a matchmaker I seemed to find these guys, like the one described above that would be just perfect, if not a great story to tell at the reception.

But in watching her in her singleness, I have come to admire her even more. While many guys have come her way over the years she has never met the right one. She might tell you, as she laughs, that she is just too picky, but I think it is deeper than that. She is really waiting for God’s best. Even if that means being single and leading a life that is different from the traditional one she might have envisioned. If only we could all do that with "stuff" in our life. God’s ways are good. His plans are perfect. Waiting for His gifts is worth the time. She has taught me that... not in words, but through her life and example. Its one of the reasons I love her.

Someday I hope to sit at the back of a church, watching her stand by the back door, arm linked in here daddy's, beaming and in love. I’ll smile as I remember all the guys that "got away" so that the perfect one for her could be standing, tall, dark and handsome, at the end of the aisle, waiting to take her in her arms.

...and if God wants to slip his phone-number to me sometime to pass on... I will willingly do my part as "Yenta, the matchmaker" yet again... anything for a friend!

...I’m glad I’m not God...

2007-04-27T11:33:00.000-04:00

In the book "A Tale of Three Kings" there is a passage that is one of the most beautiful and difficult quotes I have ever read.

Gabriel is giving out destinies to men that will one day become kings. To one, he gives the gift of power. He explains that the gift of power will not change the inner person but rather: "Outer power will always unveil the inner resources or lack thereof."

The second king receives an "inheritance". The angels explains: "A gift is worn on the outer person; and inheritance is planted deep inside - like a seed. Yet, even though it is such a small planting, this planting grows and, in time, fills all the inner person."

As the king steps up to receive his inheritance the angel goes on... "I must tell you that what has been given to you is a glorious thing - the only element in the universe that can change the human heart. Yet even this element of God cannot accomplish its task nor grow and fill your entire being unless it is compounded well. It must be mixed lavishly with pain, sorrow and crushing."

And, that is why I would never want to be God.

I watched my friends, an entire family, crushed under the grief of losing a brother, and a son. The sorrow etched upon their faces, in the recesses of their eyes was something I could never willingly place upon another human. It doesn’t seem right that a 25 year old young man has been taken from this earth. The gaping hole it will leave in the hearts of 12 brothers and sisters, in a mom and a dad, can never be filled. The reality of the loss will be part of them always and each will grieve in their own way.

While I know that the crushing and bruising of brokeness is what creates the beauty found in God’s children. That it is the the source of the perspective and the gentle grace seen in the faces of the oldest of saints It still seems so cruel to put a heart through that wounding.

And...if I was God...

As I witnessed the tears shed while this family looked at their soldier, lying in a coffin, I would have resurrected his body, shaken off their sadness and set their feet to dancing. I would orchestrated events so that they seemed "right" in my own heart and mind. Yet, in doing that, I would have stolen the beauty that will come only through this sorrow.

Soldiers who sat in church with the family, hearts softened at the loss, might never have heard the gospel. The family, in their grief, might not have leaned their ears so close to their father, seeing him as the spiritual head and protector of their family. Eternity, and the short breath that is this life, might may not have been so real. Hundreds of people would not have been praying for these children, these parents - this family. And so much more, that I will never see, would have been lost to eternity.

I heard a saying once, "Don’t sacrifice the eternal on the altar of the immediate". They are noble words, but, held up to the light of reality, it is so much easier as humans to live in the immediate. To take action with our feelings instead of trusting that there is so much more, of eternal value at stake.

While I would have done things differently in this boy’s life and would have spared the family this week’s agonies, God knows best. And while we only see a dim reflection of the big picture, I know His ways are perfect and what he does is eternal and excellent.

And for this family, for the days ahead, He is enough.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
1 Peter 1:3-7

I will bring (them)...through the fire,
Refine them as silver is refined,
And test them as gold is tested.
They will call on My name,
And I will answer them;
I will say, ‘They are My people,’
And they will say, ‘The LORD is my God’”
Zechariah 13:9

And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
Romans 5:2-4

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 1but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1st Corinthians 13:8-13

Blessing Heather

2007-04-18T14:30:00.000-04:00

What exactly does one do when the doctor tells you that you have a brain tumor? When they begin predicting the number of years you will live? If you are Heather you step foward and face the challenge with the grace and dignity that only comes from a daughter of the King.

If you haven't heard Heather's story read here. Read her "Brain Stuff" links and then read about her cute Emma Grace. You will be moved to pray for her and her family and she will bless and challenge you with her transparency.

Today the whole of "Bloggetyville" is stepping up to bless Heather and help her with the many unforseen expenses they are about to incur through this cancer battle. As of 1:30 today internets far and wide had raised $5150.00 for her family already! God is good!

So... give if you feel led and pray if you feel moved. Its not everyday you get to be part of a miracle.

...poor reflections...

2007-04-13T15:04:00.000-04:00

I’ve got a new obsession. Cleaning my mirrors. Well, really it’s as much of a cleaning obsession as a scatterbrained housekeeper like me could have. I was watching Martha one day when she showed the "PERFECT WAY" to clean glass with a damp cloth and a squeegee. The squeegee was the thing I was missing all those years and it is a key step to get a "streak-free shine". Having strange perfectionistic tendencies caused me to get frustrated with the old windex and paper towel routine and often I’d just not bother. But now I take pride in looking into clear pristine windows.
.
I like it that way.
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We used to have an antique mirror that I bought it at an auction years ago. It had a beautiful frame but I couldn’t wait to replace the glass in it. The paint on the back of the glass had cracked and separated leaving a poor reflection. It was dull and no amount of cleaning was ever going to change that.
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I like things clear.
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All around me I have friends who have struggled with health issues. Cancers, sick spouses, dying loved ones. It would be easy to question God’s purpose when we can’t understand the big
picture. Poor reflections indeed.
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Heather, a young mom in the blogging community has really been on my heart the past few days. She had been struggling with dizziness this past weekend thinking it was an ear infection. When they tested her further they found out that she had an inoperable brain tumor. And just like that her whole world changed. Her children, her family struggle to see what is still unseen and cling to the arms of a sometimes invisible God. Yet even in this short time glimpses of God’s grace come through. It turns out that the dizziness was not related to the tumor at all but because of it they found the tumor much sooner than they might have otherwise.

I’ve never been one to question God. I’ve always believed that He was good and He has it all under control. But I am guilty of always wanting my answers now. I don’t want to see a dim reflection but rather a clear view. To know the purpose behind the sorrow. To package life’s questions into a neat little box that I am comfortable with. But God didn’t call us to a life of comfort but rather one that will fulfil His purpose on Earth. If I am going to be fit to be a part of that I need to accept dim reflections for now. Knowing that what is seen is temporary and what is unseen, that which hides behind a veil of questions, is eternal.

I have been reading "A Tale of Three Kings" again. In the very beginning God is giving gifts to the kings. He gives one an "inheritance". The angel described it not as a gift worn on the outer man but rather something like a seed planted deep inside. As the king takes this as his destiny the angel explains that this is the only thing that can change the human heart. Yet, the angel warns, even it cannot grow or fill your being except if it is compounded well. And "mixed lavishly with pain, sorrow, and crushing."

The eternal, His inheritance, is what I choose. Even if the way is harder. Even if it costs me clarity and a firm footing. Even if... because I have glimpsed what lies ahead and I know nothing in this life can compare to that.

For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

...of marshmallows and boys...

2007-04-07T11:45:00.000-04:00

It was a really cool game. The kids tossed the ball to another child in the circle and repeated “Jesus died for________” and filled in their name. What a way to personalize the story of what God had done during this Easter season. When the game was done we regrouped and I began to ask questions about how the children felt hearing that Jesus had died for them. One boy stated that he felt really sad. “Yes,” I explained “that is a sad thing that Jesus had to die.” We continued with the lesson and as I spoke about Jesus rising from the dead Kevin yells out “HE DID?!” Reality checked itself at the door of my heart. After all these years I take for granted so many times that the children have heard the basics of Christianity in North America. But Kevin had never heard.I re-told the whole story just for that little boy and as I spoke I heard it again through the fresh understanding of an eight year old. To him, it didn’t matter that everyone else had done wrong things. Jesus had died for his sins, on the cross and that was sad.We had a great snack planned and as the talk wrapped up we headed in to the kitchen to don our chef hats. The children wrapped a marshmallow with a crescent roll, sprinkled them with cinnamon and placed them on the baking sheet. I explained that we were going to use our imaginations and think of the marshmallow as Jesus being wrapped and placed in the tomb after he died. We would close the oven door just like the soldiers closed the tomb.Then we left.I have to tell you that it had been a really busy week and I hadn’t had a chance to try this snack out before so I had as much idea what would happen to our baked goods as the children did. Ever the professional, I went on to the next activity without a second thought. At the end of the night one of the leaders brought out the tomb confections and put them on the table for the kids to devour. Kevin took a bite and ran to me excitedly “Look Cheryl, He has risen!” The marshmallow had indeed melted and left an empty hole in the crescent roll, but in the eyes of that eight year old boy the stone had been rolled away and Jesus was no longer there.You see Jesus had not only died for Kevin but had risen and made a way for him to be forgiven…and that message was anything but sad!

...shadowlands...

2007-04-03T14:39:00.000-04:00

The title comes from Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia, in which the world as we know it and other worlds like it are referred to as the 'shadowlands', because they are only a shadow of what is to come.

-----------------------------------

When I was a girl I loved babies. I had a few of my own. They were plastic, had long eyelashes and hair that easily tangled. They were my children, my students, my entertainment. I could imagine the future as I tucked each of them into toy strollers and cribs. Rocking them to sleep with bottles of disappearing milk-like liquid was pure bliss. When I grew up I wanted two things... to be a teacher and to have a baby girl, or ten.

I did not want a boy.

I was the oldest. The only girl and the caretaker of two little brothers. My parents separated and eventually divorced which squashed my dreams of ever having another girl in the family. But boys we had. Two of them...and I vowed never to have another.

For years I carried that dream close to my heart. I had plans. When I came up with baby names with my friends, they would be girl names. When I looked at baby clothes in a store they were always girl clothes. Together we dreamed of being mommies and pushing pretty pink strollers proudly down the sidewalk.

And then I found myself carrying a real live baby...kicking and turning and growing under my heart. I told people it didn’t matter whether we had a boy or a girl, but deep down inside I knew I wanted to put pink bows in this baby’s hair.

Barely a month before our firstborn’s arrival, my husband and I went to see the movie Shadowlands at the theatre. If you haven’t seen this film it is about C.S. Lewis and his wife, Joy Gresham. She is one of his fans from the U.S.A. and they begin to correspond. Eventually she comes to England to meet him and they become friends. Lewis helps her stay in the country by marrying her for convenience. They remain platonic friends until she is diagnosed with cancer he fears losing her. Lewis risks his heart being broken and allows himself to fall in love with Joy. They marry again in front of a priest and spend another year together before the cancer takes her away from Lewis and her son Douglas.

Near the end of the movie there is a scene where her son is sitting alone in the attic crying. Lewis walks over and sits down next to him and the two sob over the lost of their beloved mother and wife. As I sat watching that my heart broke for the little boy sitting their so forlorn and in my head I thought, 'that boy needs his mommy'. In that instant I knew, before I had seen his face, that I was going to have a son. A son that needed his mommy also. In those Shadowlands, the place where we glimpse what is to come instantly melted every bit of resistance I had and replaced it with a deep, abiding love for my boy.

That September, as the leaves turned crimson and gold, I finally met him face to face. Nestled in a blue blanket looking up at me was my son. All boy and more beautiful than I could have imagined. I made plans for motherhood but God had a better idea in mind. I am so thankful he changed my heart, for I could not imagine missing one day, one smile, one bone-cracking hug of this boy's incredible life.

---------------

The movie concludes with this quote that reminds me to risk the safety of my own plans for the unspeakable joy of trusting God with the reigns.

"Why love, if losing hurts so much?

I have no answers anymore. Only the life I have lived.

Twice in that life I've been given the choice: as a boy and as a man.

The boy chose safety, the man chooses suffering.

The pain now is part of the happiness then.

That's the deal."

...it totally worked!!...

2007-03-29T12:44:00.001-04:00

You Are Likely a First Born

At your darkest moments, you feel guilty.
At work and school, you do best when you're researching.
When you love someone, you tend to agree with them often.

In friendship, you are considerate and compromising.
Your ideal careers are: business, research, counseling, promotion, and speaking.
You will leave your mark on the world with discoveries, new information, and teaching people to dream.

The Birth Order Predictor

...a moment of silence...

2007-03-28T21:34:00.000-04:00

...for the Sligh guy... We will miss you...you didn't make Hasselhoff cry but there are many a fan shedding a tear over your departure tonight. Someday soon I hope to see you again, hiding behind your guitar, singing to your God. For tonight we'll just sit in the belly of the whale and think what coulda been...

...silly songs with sanjaya...

2007-03-28T09:24:00.000-04:00

the part of the show where Sanjaya comes out and sings a "Silly Song"...with silly hair... and silly little girls will cry. A teeny part of me just wants him to come back every week just for that comedic break in the middle of the show. It won't be the same without him- but don't tell anyone!

Seriously though...

What is the poor guy supposed to do but put on a happy face, a "Phony Pony-Hawk" and keep on rockin’ since they KEEP VOTING FOR HIM.

And... the secret is revealed - it is not just 12 year old girls voting for the boy but also many, many Sirius Radio Howard Stern Fans. Yep, that lude, crude man and his minions is largely responsible for the madness that is Sanjaya.

OK... end of rant...for now...

Kiki - she looked much better in this dress than that GREEN one from last week. He song had more spark but I had forgotten about her by the end of the night...

Chris - His voice sounded great but he just didn’t step it up enough - I want that boy to fly and I sure hope he can do it.

Gina - Sounded great. Her voice is strong. Probably her best performance but I had forgotten about it by the end too.

Sanjaya - Please see above.

Haley - Pretty girl, nice voice...forgettable.

Phil - I like this song - it was good for his voice and I like him with a hat to frame those awesome blue eyes.

Melinda - Is just awesome - She had even more life in her song and is so comfortable on stage. I love, love that at the end of every magnificent performance she suddenly looks suprised that people were watching her.

Blake - boring - I think the beat box angle made him stand out and the rest - well maybe it’s just not my style.

Jordin - She showed some spark with this song. It may not have been the best vocally but its showed some spunk and stood out from the others because of that.

Chris R. - Did a good job. He is growing on me.

IF you cant get enough Idol and you want a laugh there is a FAKE Chris Sligh Blog here. It is irreverent and very funny. I read through some posts and it seems clean, although a bit eyebrow raising at spots. There are pics of the boy as a baby and - SANJAYA MAKEOVERS - too, too funny! If you want to check it out, please know I am not endorsing the content...

...a room after my own heart...

2007-03-27T11:51:00.000-04:00

Rose Heights Church in Texas not only has a great Children's Ministry outlook which makes me happy in itself, but, they have also done a terrific job decorating their Sunday School Rooms.

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14. These rooms definitely welcome the children in...

Can you guess which one is my favorite?

...Kahlua Cake, Insomnia & Toddler Droppings...

2007-03-27T09:31:00.000-04:00

The window is open in my bedroom and outside I can hear the birds singing away. They must be happy that the weather is FINALLY getting warm here. It was a balmy 18 degrees* yesterday and every child in the neighborhood was out soaking in the amazing weather.

*(that's18 celcius...65 farenheit)

Finally after months we seem to be crawling out of our house of perpetual sickness and squinting in the light.

Last night we made dinner for Big T. The girls were excited to cook Dad’s birthday meal and dessert. I was just excited to finally get it done. Big T’s birthday was, after all, in February!!

We had "A Chelsea Morning’s" Kahlua Cake that you can scroll down and find here. Except we used Starbuck’s Liqueur instead. Yuuummmy and easy. My 9 year old daughter, Pickle made it all by herself. It was moist, and did I mention easy!?

Cookie, my 10 year old, was in charge of the frosting, which was whipping cream and a piping bag. I really should have taken a picture because no words could do that beauty justice. Lets just say restraint is not her strong suit and at one point she squeezed the bag so hard the clip on the end popped off and sprayed whipped cream all over the kitchen.

Daddy felt special and reveled in being the"belated birthday boy". The kids were just happy to have cake because dessert is usually reserved for company and, since we’ve been living in a sick house for like, forever, we have had neither company, nor dessert for a while.

So, when bedtime came I lay down like normal to sleep and then just like that my mind went wild. Every think I could have thunk raced through my tired ol’ brain and I could not shut it off for the life of me... then I figured it out. The cake had coffee liquor in it - and, Starbucks to boot. And, while I love caffeine in the morning, having it at night it is not a good idea - even in a belated birthday cake.

And... while I was laying there restless and sooo tired I started thinking about my kids and how old they are getting. My baby boy is in Grade 7. I started reliving the days when they were so young. And just as I started getting all sentimental and nostalgic I remembered my first trip to the mall after baby number two...

...it all started about ten years ago...

Weeks after my baby girl Cookie was born Big T was heading to the city for an appointment. I got the brilliant idea that I would tag along with the kids and have him drop us off at the mall. Bogged down with stroller, diaper bag, purse, newborn, two-year old and still very hormonal mommy.

As soon as I was able to strap every bag and baby to the stroller we were off on our shopping adventure. Which is when I realized that shopping with two young children is not so much fun. First one would need, you know, a bottle, and then one would want a snack. And then, after the snack is, um, processed it’s time to head to the family bathroom for a change.

And that is really where the story begins. I got C up on the change table, poooopy diaper off and as I reached for a new diaper I realized that I had forgot to pack anymore his size. No problem, I thought, I would just leave him - uh - uncovered while we motored down to the drugstore for some diapers. He was two, almost toilet trained and had just "gone"...we were safe for a little while.

And then I passed my favorite store. I was drawn in... yes I was....stroller, toddler and all.

Before I knew it I was excitedly pulling things off the rack and heading to the change room. Just as I was pulled together my the first outfit IT started.

By IT I mean the pooping.

Little C had a pair of OshKosh overall shorts on - only. And big, huge turds started falling out the one pant-leg and onto the floor of the store.

"Stop that!" I whispered loudly. Little C looked up, made a scrunchy face as he dropped another uh, toddler poop, onto the floor. It was then that I realized the change room had a curtain in that only came down as low as mid-calf. Outside said change room was a lovely saleslady!

I grabbed baby Cookie’s extra outfit and started scooping up the poop as fast as he could drop it. Because I was in the change room and no where near a garbage receptacle I shoved the whole mess in the diaper bag.

While I collected poop with one hand I was desperately trying to get the store clothes off without, well, getting anything on them, and back into MY clothes so I could get this incredible pooping toddler and his mortified momma OUT OF THAT STORE!

As soon as the clothes were off I dropped the last turd in the diaper bag, picked up my son in one arm, turned the stroller around with the other and flew ...

I sprinted down the length of the mall, stopping only when I got to the diaper aisle of the drug store. While I tried to find his size, I turned around only to see him start pooping again. I grabbed a package of diapers off the shelf, ripped them open and right in the middle of the aisle strapped a diaper on that boy.

Then I looked up at the security camera and smiled.

Motherhood really is a piece of cake!

2007-03-23T10:44:00.000-04:00

...if the battle for souls is lost

...it will not be because God was not strong enough

...it will not be because Satan was too powerful

...but simply because

...the Saints did not show up to fight.

...just one...

2007-03-23T10:39:00.001-04:00

The excitement in the air was palpable.

This Sunday morning the sun had come out and there was not a rain cloud in sight. Our hearts beat faster as we looked over to the nearby apartment buildings and envisioned the children racing to join us. This day was a long time coming. For months we had planned this summer outreach. We had painted props, practiced skits, handed out hundreds of flyer. We had prayed our hearts out. And now it was time.

And then from the direction of the apartment buildings came Christopher.

He marched purposefully towards the group, looking at no one in particular but rather up in the air waving his finger towards us.

"DO. YOU. WANT. TO. KNOW. MY. NAME?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "MY NAME IS CHRISTOPHER!"

We introduced ourselves to our first visitor Christopher. He was an awkward boy who talked to loud and spoke at the wrong times. He was dressed in older clothes and his hair was messy. We were so glad he came.

Other than our "church kids" he was the only one who came.

The weeks of summer flew by and every Sunday, more children would wander over. They didn’t come in the hundreds but rather the tens...or even ones.

We got to know Christopher better as he barreled over faithfully each week. He lived with his mom in the apartment buildings. She didn’t have a car so we would often see this 10 year old riding his bike back and forth from the grocery store, bangs in hand. He didn’t have many friends. It was easier for the other children to stay their distance than get to know this boy.

But Christopher was resilient and feisty and he captured our hearts that summer.

As the leaves began to change to the beautiful shades of orange and red, our outreach finished for the year. Fall programs were beginning and we found a way for Christopher to join us.

And.

As I planned my programs that next year and assessed how successful the summer was, I decided to measure my efforts not by the world, or even the church’s, definition of success.

Rather, I asked myself. "Was I faithful?"

I purposed to forgo the accolades of the saints for the approval of my God. If I was tired, I would persevere. If I was stuck, I would pray and ask for help. If a mass of children came through the doors, I would serve them to the best of my ability, and, when I fell short I would rely on the many hands and feet of Jesus that so faithfully came alongside to help me. And if only one came, I would pour out all I had.

In the throngs that followed Jesus on this Earth he looked out so many times and touched just one.

Just one.

If in the crowds of people we miss the individuals all our efforts will be in vain.

He saw me in a crowd as a little girl. Quietly going about my life, Jesus captured my face in His hands and showed me He had a plan that no other person in this world could fulfil but me.

I was just one.

One of billions he died to save.

...Addison Needs Your Prayers...

2007-03-22T15:48:00.000-04:00

Addison's mommy can usually be found here but today she is at the hospital with little Addison. If you read about her on her momma's blog you'll know that she is a fighter but today she needs your prayers.

This was posted on her grammy's blog.

...one tiny request...

2007-03-21T08:36:00.000-04:00

Please. Please. Keep ALL 12 year old girls off the phone until Sanjaya has made a graceful exit from the competition. Do not let them vote or someone worthy of the top 10 will surely go home. Did y’all see that girl in the audience crying while that Sanjaya boy tried to rock the house???!!! I will need Depends if he stays another week for fear I will pee my pants watching him– it was too funny! And just to add to the demographic myth… my 9 & 10-year-old daughter swoon over him and his sawft voice too. Radio Disney is calling his name… His mama should hand him the phone…just saying.

And so on to the rest. Haley at least wore pants this week – albeit short shorts. But still last week I kept telling my girls she needed a pair of jeans with that shirt cause there was nooo way something that short is a dress.

Chris Richardson - was okay. Still a bit nasally but I can give him props for “keepin’ it real and classic.

Stephanie Edwards – I had high hopes for that song but she seemed to over-sing it. In my very non-musical opinion I think it should have been softened up in parts.

Blake Lewis – Well ok…the judges liked it but I just didn’t get it.

Lakisha Jones – Those diamonds are going to her head I think. This week she lost that quiet beauty that shines through those killer vocals. I hope it was temporary because fame is not good on self-esteem and character.

Phil Stacey – Well it was kinda funny seeing him run around with the mike stand – Bo Bice he is not… thankfully. It was pretty cool though and those eyes…

Jordin Sparks – What a beauty, voice and all. She really is great and the song was impeccable.

Sanjaya Malakar – Please see above…

Gina Glocksen - I always like me a good rock song but that was a bit frenetic. She is in her element as the “REALLY NICE” rocker chick.

Chris Sligh – Well, my husband said he is probably more comfortable on stage hiding behind a guitar doing worship. He just looked so awkward walking through that crowd – I think he is nervous still. But look at his “Fro-Patro” base, his pastor was there I think – that’s gotta keep you grounded. The vocals were good but I think there is more to him and I hope he gets a chance to show that… do you think they’ll do a gospel night?? Have Toby Mac and whoever come and coach - how cool would that be??!!

Melinda Doolittle – That girl has the wisdom to express her faith in ways the judges won’t find uh… “indulgent”. She may be meek and quiet but I do not think for a second she lacks self-esteem. It seems she knows who she is in Christ, where that voice comes from and who its for. I believe she was brought here for “such a time as this” and I can’t wait to see all she’s gonna do in the years to come!

I had this thought last night – if Sanjaya stays another week that means he will tour with them… please just send the boy home before they spend another week lost in a decade he has never heard before like the 80s!

...Tale of Three Kings...

2007-03-20T15:31:00.000-04:00

Sitting in the Belly of the Whale can be a lonely prospect but it is a place we will all end up in our journey through life. My first teaching on this came when I was on a youth retreat at about 16 years old. Our youth pastor used the book "The Tale of Three Kings" by Gene Edwards as his teaching material that weekend. It was series on brokenness and a pretty heavy subject for such a young crowd. But as he spoke the words resonated within me. He talked not of if we would would be broken but rather when. And, stuck in that place, how we deal with that pain defines who we will become when we finally find ourselves on dry land again.

Will we follow after the order of King Saul or after the order of King David?

One of my favorite lessons is of Saul throwing spears at David. Instead of becoming angry David allows himself to be broken and ultimately this helps to build his character. Saul, on the other hand, turns a "deep shade of bitter" when faced with pain and ultimately orchestrates his own downfall.

This book is beautifully written and the words weave a beautiful tapestry out of a very deep subject. It is not a big book and should be on every one's "Books I Need to Read in this Lifetime" list.

Here is an excerpt I found:

Well, dear reader, how nice to be with you once more. It is a privilege to spend this time with you. Thank you for meeting here, and I suggest we hasten into the playhouse, as I see that they have already dimmed the lights.

There are two seats reserved for us not too far from the stage. Quickly, let us take them.
I understand the story is a drama. I trust, though, you will not find it sad.

I believe we will find the story to be in two parts. In part 1 we shall meet an older king, Saul by name, and a young shepherd boy named David. In part 2 we shall once more meet an older king and a young man. But this time the older king is David and the young man is Absalom.

The story is a portrait (you might prefer to call it a rough charcoal sketch) of submission and authority within the kingdom of God.

Ah, they have turned off the lights, and the players have taken their places. The audience has quieted itself. The curtain is rising.

Our story has begun.

Prologue

The almighty, living God turned to Gabriel and gave a command.

“Go, take these two portions of my being. There are two destinies waiting. To each unborn destiny give one portion of myself.”

Carrying two glowing, pulsating lights of Life, Gabriel opened the door into the realm between two universes and disappeared. He had stepped into the Mall of Unborn Destinies.

Gabriel spoke: “I have here two portions of the nature of God. The first is the very cloth of his nature. When wrapped about you, it clothes you with the breath of God. As water surrounds a person in the sea, so will his very breath envelop you. With this, the divine breath, you will have his power—power to subdue armies, shame the enemies of God, and accomplish his work on the earth. Here is the power of God as a gift. Here is immersion into the Spirit.”

A destiny stepped forward: “This portion of God is for me.”

“True,” replied the angel. “And remember, whoever receives such a great portion of power will surely be known by many. Ere your earthly pilgrimage is done, your true character will be known; yea, it will be revealed by means of this power. Such is the destiny of all who want and wield this portion, for it touches only the outer person, affecting the inner person not one whit.

Outer power will always unveil the inner resources or the lack thereof.”

The first destined one received the gift and stepped back.

Gabriel spoke again.

“I have here the second of two elements of the living God. This is not a gift but an inheritance. A gift is worn on the outer person; an inheritance is planted deep inside—like a seed. Yet, even though it is such a small planting, this planting grows and, in time, fills all the inner person.”

Another destiny stepped forward. “I believe this element is to be mine for my earthly pilgrimage.”

“True,” responded the angel again. “I must tell you that what has been given to you is a glorious thing—the only element in the universe that can change the human heart. Yet even this element of God cannot accomplish its task nor grow and fill your entire inner being unless it is compounded well. It must be mixed lavishly with pain, sorrow, and crushing.”

The second destined one received the inheritance and stepped back.

Beside Gabriel sat the angel Recorder. He dutifully entered into his ledger the record of the two destinies.

“And who shall these destinies become after they go through the door to the visible universe?” asked Recorder.

Gabriel replied softly, “Each, in his time, shall be king.”

One

The youngest son of any family bears two distinctions: He is considered to be both spoiled and uninformed. Usually little is expected of him. Inevitably, he displays fewer characteristics of leadership than the other children in the family. As a child, he never leads. He only follows, for he has no one younger on whom to practice leadership.

So it is today. And so it was three thousand years ago in a village called Bethlehem, in a family of eight boys. The first seven sons of Jesse worked near their father’s farm. The youngest was sent on treks into the mountains to graze the family’s small flock of sheep.

On those pastoral jaunts, this youngest son always carried two things: a sling and a small, guitarlike instrument. Spare time for a sheepherder is abundant on rich mountain plateaus where sheep can graze for days in one sequestered meadow. But as time passed and days became weeks, the young man became very lonely. The feeling of friendlessness that always roamed inside him was magnified. He often cried. He also played his harp a great deal. He had a good voice, so he often sang. When these activities failed to comfort him, he gathered up a pile of stones and, one by one, swung them at a distant tree with something akin to fury.

When one rock pile was depleted, he would walk to the blistered tree, reassemble his rocks, and designate another leafy enemy at yet a farther distance.

He engaged in many such solitary battles.

This shepherd-singer-slinger also loved his Lord. At night, when all the sheep lay sleeping and he sat staring at the dying fire, he would strum upon his harp and break into quiet song. He sang the ancient hymns of his forefathers’ faith. While he sang he wept, and while weeping he often broke out in abandoned praise—until mountains in distant places lifted up his praise and tears and passed them on to higher mountains, until they eventually reached the ears of God.
When the young shepherd did not praise and when he did not cry, he tended to each and every sheep and lamb. When not occupied with his flock, he swung his companionable sling and swung it again and again until he could tell every rock precisely where to go.

Once, while singing his lungs out to God, angels, sheep, and passing clouds, he spied a living enemy: a huge bear! He lunged forward. Both found themselves moving furiously toward the same small object, a lamb feeding at a table of rich, green grass. Youth and bear stopped halfway and whirled to face one another. Even as he instinctively reached into his pocket for a stone, the young man realized, “Why, I am not afraid.”

Meanwhile, brown lightning on mighty, furry legs charged at the shepherd with foaming madness. Impelled by the strength of youth, the young man married rock to leather, and soon a brook-smooth pebble whined through the air to meet that charge.

A few moments later, the man—not quite so young as a moment before—picked up the little lamb and said, “I am your shepherd, and God is mine.”

And so, long into the night, he wove the day’s saga into a song. He hurled that hymn to the skies again and again until he had taught the melody and words to every angel that had ears. They, in turn, became custodians of this wondrous song and passed it on as healing balm to brokenhearted men and women in every age to come.

...adoption...

2007-03-14T09:01:00.000-04:00

...little T & big T...

Ever since we began the process of adoption God has brought people from every side into my life to speak understanding into my heart. Birth moms, adoptees, other parents. This story spoke to the unending bond a child may have to their birthparents. Even after decades the loss still resonates.

It makes me wonder yet again how we honour the past and the losses our little T will face as he grows up. I've been told that to make peace with past losses frees you to go forward in life. But, I think like everything it comes in waves, no more than a person can handle at once.

His birth parents may not have been perfect or able... His adopted parents will fall short of the ideal but we can point him to the perfect parent in his Heavenly Father. The father that will never let him down, let him go or fail him - even once.

...My Little Man...

2007-03-13T14:51:00.000-04:00

NOTE - This is not C's real Hair!!

The first time they met both wore diapers. The details are fuzzy but, I can't say that it was an instant friendship even. Little D was likely wielding a ball and Little C was probably reading a book or playing with a toy farm implement. They have never had a lot in common actually. D has always been more physical and rough and tumble and C more cerebral, a thinker, an arguer.

But they always wanted to be together.

In fact for a year they were both home schooled and saw each other almost every day. Differences aside there were a few things they both loved to to - like canoeing. And a few time the boys and their dads went away for a weekend together to enjoy nature and freshly caught fried fish. They both loved to climb trees (what boy doesn't) and play video games. They loved nicknames and came up with Coco and Dodo for each other when they were quite young - the names have stuck.

Unfortunately their encounters would often end in some sort of disagreement that the moms tried to carefully negotiate. They were so different that they had a hard time seeing eye to eye. Many times both moms thought it would be easier on both of them if they each found another buddy.

But that's not how best friends work.

Eventually C left the church they had both attended and their contact dropped off greatly. Then not long ago C felt strongly to go visit D again. D's mom has battled cancer for years but she was really not doing well and C was concerned that D needed a friend. Two minutes into their first phone call in a year they had picked up where they left off and spent an hour chatting on the phone, making plans to get together.

This time around there has been no arguments. (I wish D's mom could see it!) They have more in common now and get along awesome.

The whole story breaks my heart and makes it swell with a maternal pride. You see, C, is my little man. 12 years old. Through this, I have seen a glimpse of the man that he is becoming. I have seen the heavy burden he has willingly taken on for his friend. His grandma died from cancer a few months ago and he has been willing to revist that sorrow so that he can understand his friend more. I have seen the weight of compassion, and the tears, in his eyes. I have heard the prayers. I have heard him listen with an open heart to his friend share the sorrow of losing his mom to the cancer. He tells me he will be there for D when he needs to say goodbye. It makes me look forward to seeing this child of mine grow in to a man.

Proverbs 18:24 says "A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." I think that's the kind of friendship they have.

Despite the heartbreaking circumstances with D's momma I have seen so much happiness come from their friendship. They have smiled often, they have laughed, they have played. And...like boys will...they have been rambunctious and mischievous and well...boys...

Which is just fine with me because while I like to see glimpses of the man he is becoming, a big part of me wants to let them be kids as long as they possibly can.

...plunged beneath that flood...

2007-03-12T08:24:00.000-04:00

If ever a man knew what it was like to live in the belly of the whale this man did. Born into a family of four children his father was a minister and mother a loving soul who died during the birth of William’s youngest brother when he was just six years old.

As a child he was sent away to boarding school where he endured years of bullying. I can only imagine the sadness in that little boys eyes as he must have dearly longed for a mommy to wipe his tears away.

William grew up in these institutions and finally graduated as a lawyer. He passed the bar and was up for a prestigious job with the government when his first bout of depression and insanity hit. He was terrified to stand before his prospective employers, and, in his manic state he attempted suicide. A letter written after that time describes the traumatic events that unfolded. His plan began with the purchase of drugs that make his death simple and quick but every time he would try to take it an incredible shaking began that would not allow him to get he liquid to his mouth. Distraught, he tried to lay on a knife that broke before it entered his body. In agony and despair he lay there blind to everything but his own pain until the guilt of what he had tried overwhelmed him. It was shortly after this event that he penned the words so familiar to churchgoers. Written not as brilliant poetry, but rather from a place of brokenness.

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

...

The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;

And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.

...

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power

Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.

...

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

...

Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

...

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,

For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!’

Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,

To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.

Olney Hymns (1779)--'Praise for the Fountain Opened'

...

In the future there will be a fountain, where David's descendants and the people of Jerusalem can wash away their sin and guilt.

Zechariah 13:1

As a young man William met a friend who invited him home for a short visit. This visit lasted the rest of his life, as he was taken into the family as a cherished member. The Rev. Morley and his wife Mary were evangelical ministers who surely took this lost young man under their wing providing him with a loving father and mother that he had never had before. While 18 months after moving in Morley Unwin died his wife Mary, William’s second mother, continued to care for him throughout her life.

The family relocated to Olney, Buckinghamshire at the request of a Rev. John Newton (famous for writing Amazing Grace). Here William finally found his life’s work. Not as a lawyer as he had intended but rather a Missionary and Hymn writer. Olney was a poor village where most made their living making lace. Together with Newton they ministered to the people of this village and opened a church.

William Cowper’s story did not play out as he had imagined. I’m sure he would have wished for his mother to have lived longer. That he would be free from the depression that plagued him. That he would practice law and attain great wealth and notoriety. That he would be immune to poverty and loss.

But God had different plans for him.

What William considered a weak and shameful state birthed words of great value. Their timeless truths ring out over centuries of change and still resonate in our hearts today. He was not known for his vast wealth, his great discoveries or even a dynamic ministry but rather for his vulnerability, as he laid out his weakness for all to see. It was in that place He discovered the power of God’s love to redeem us all.

...

GOD moves in a mysterious way,

His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,

And rides upon the storm.
Olney Hymns (1779)--'Light Shining out of Darkness'

...from the belly - lite...

2007-03-07T09:18:00.000-05:00

Fox n' Friends and coffee in the morning.

I get my dairy from all their cheese... what a great way to get my news fix. This morning they were talking about people being smuggled into the country illegally. The one host Brian asked the other - very blonde guy - when did your family come over from Sweden...in his usual serious manner he said, "Brian, my people came over in a shipment from IKEA." **groan**

************************

Flipping the channels...

AMERICAN IDOL - those boys got step up their game...

...I'm still that Sligh guys biggest fan. But I knew that DC talk son "We all Wanna Be Loved" - he choked up in it and lost the power of the song... but props to him for wanting to share a message in his music!

Blake is great but although I might vote for him I probably wouldn't buy his album.

Phil Stacey - Who wouldn't be charmed by those blue eyes. (I've been know for falling for a blue-eyed boy before!! -Big T!) But Phil really needs to go home, sing for his girls and tuck

them in at night.

Sundance and Brandon - I hope they get another shot next week.

Sanjaya, its really time to say goodbye to AI. My girls (9&10) love him though. It makes me think he could get a deal at Radio Disney or something. I could see him and his HUGE smile dancing the hula with Mickey & Minnie.

Chris & Jared - did they sing??

If you're too impatient to wait until Thursday you can get a sneak peek here. They make predictions by tracking busy signals or something - kinda like an AI spoiler.

"There's a fine line between fishing

and just standing on the shore looking foolish."

Am I really fishing or just standing on the shore going through the motions?? As I have been mulling this over it reminds me to keep casting my net in the water and trying make a difference in this world.

...a picture worth a thousand laughs...

2007-03-06T14:55:00.000-05:00

This just makes me smile.... thanks for coming out... as you might guess we are having a snow day AGAIN... every road in the area is closed and the kids have been playing in the basement...who knows what they might be up to...

...clean up on aisle 6...

2007-03-06T13:43:00.000-05:00

So my big C would be MORTIFIED if he knew I was mentioning this one. hehe... he's 12

About 10 years ago (when he was 2!) he was just mastering this potty-ing thing. We had come shopping and were over in the toy section when C told me he needed to go. I was carefully picking out a toy for a party and the washrooms were waaaay over on the other side of the store ... so I piped up, "Can you just wait a minute?" He looked at me with a wiggle but he didn't say"no" outright so in my desire to finish up I kept shopping. Not a minute later the wiggling stopped and he got a really serious look on his face. I looked down and he had peed right into his rubber boot. Cute. I grabbed the first toy I could and got ready to hightail it to the washroom, "c'mon C." I called...and then turned around to see him pull his bright yellow boot of his foot and poured the contents into a puddle on the floor.

I can only imagine the look on my face... and then came the dilemna. Do I confess to the 17 year old employee and ask her to mop up on aisle 6 or ... run? I was torn really,but in the end I figured at 17 I would rather clean-up what looked like a puddle of snow, than what I knew was a puddle of toddler pee. So, for better or worse I took my items and proceeded to the check out, head hung just low enough that the cameras couldn't catch a glimpse of my whole face.

...Digging Out from Under...

2007-03-06T13:12:00.000-05:00

I’ve lost it!!

You know the cord that attaches my digital camera to my computer so I can download pictures. It may be under a pile of laundry, or hidden in a drawer somewhere but it is definitely not where it is supposed to be - which is, by the way, in the camera bag. I have looked all over and even offered the kids $5 if they could find it... but it seems that little grey cord does not want to make an appearance at this party. Which means friends, that you will all have to use your imagination for now.

Think of a taupe mini-van covered in a blanket of white and sunk deep in the snow that is our driveway. Think of a big blue tractor with a yellow rope attached to the front as it pulls, and pulls the poor little van out of the driveway. Yeah - its free! Then the next picture has the snowblower on the back of the above mentioned blue tractor blowing out our driveway in a fog of powdery crystals. You might just see the sun shining and reflecting happily on the snow oh, neighbours helping people get out of drifts and kids in their pajamas cheering through the windows for today is yet another "SNOW DAY!!" for them. In the middle of it all is my darling husband.

Yesterday we got a wonderful treat for our anniversary. A snow day. Husband, wife, the four kids, dog & cat stuck inside all day. It was the kind of bliss you can only experience after so many years together.

Before I go on... I noted yesterday that the highway to the place we got married has been closed just about every March 5 since that time. The year we got married the day was sunny, warm and beautiful... just goes to show you God’s perfect timing in everything!

I’ve learned after all these years that humor is a vital component in marriage. Learning to laugh at ourselves and each other is important. I’ve been laughing at my husband a bit these days and threatened to BLOG HIM... here it goes.

The first snowfall of the year dawned - the kids were excited and C, by 12 year old son, wanting to make some money asked if he could shovel the driveway instead of the tractor. We agreed to pay him the going rate and I watched him lug out the shovel and clean out our rather large driveway.

Then the snow really started to fall.

Daily it piled up and the initial entreprenuerial ambition of C waned. I suggested to my husband that maybe we should ask the guy with the snow-blower to do it. My suggestion was filed under "R" for ridiculous. Ridiculous to pay someone to clean it out when I can just drive really fast and make a path through it.

Which, I may explain, is like a Disney ride, complete with the flying snow all around us.
Maybe, I thought, he just needs that adreneline pumping bit of fun everyday. There were worse pursuits I could think of.

But really - we should pay to have the snowblower come and clean the driveway out. However, don’t tell husband that ‘cause as I have learned - it’s a bit of a touchy subject!!

Even if people get stuck.

The first one was a guy who came to bring his tax return. He drives a big pick-up truck and was really suprised that husband could drive through it. I laughed and wondered if he would be the one to bring reason to my man...

Then, our dog got out and into the neighbours garbage (if any of them read this we are soooo sorry btw!!). The dog catcher came to the door to give us a warning...slap on the hand...stern-look. He went back to get in his truck and got STUCK. Yup, I peeked through the curtains as a neighbour came, hooked him up to his car, helped him shovel and pulled him out. I told husband when he came home. "Well, if he couldn’t get out he shoulda parked on the road!" was the response...

Then more snow fell and husband got stuck. A kind neighbour came over and tried to pull him out only to get stuck also.

"Honey." I said that night - thinking this was a teachable moment. "Maybe we should call the guy with the snowblower." But alas, in his eyes the driveway was just perfect.
Another morning and another afternoon our friendly neighbours came over and shovelled around tires and pulled husband's van out of the driveway... but still no call to the snowblower guy.

Then yesterday, just ahead of the roads closing husband and Little T came home. The snow was so bad that he couldn’t see to get in the garage - which turned out to be a non-issue because he got stuck halfway up the driveway. Which is where the van sat, through the storm, until morning.

This morning dawned sunny and bright. Our poor little van awash in snow. The neighbours pulled on their winter clothes and peeked out to see if husband needed to be pulled out yet again. [They are sooo polite these neighbours. Not once have they suggested that maybe - just maybe, he could have the driveway cleaned out so the whole crew could get to work on time!] Neighbours came over and shovelled around the tires, hoooked up the rope and pulled - but alas...this was the time our van would not budge.

In the distance was - yup you guessed it - the snowplow guy and his BIG BLUE TRACTOR!! I did a little happy dance - got out my camera for pictures of the big event. Blue tractor pulled our van out of the driveway and began to blow all the snow far into my front yard. The kids stood by the window mesmerized. They had seen other neighbours get their driveways cleaned but NEVER at our house...this was a special event.

Husband came in, looked out the window, smiled sheepishly and said, "That was easy - I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing that earlier!"

That’s why I love the guy!

The whole thing got me thinking. How many times do we find ourselves letting everything pile up in our own driveway of life. We make excuses and push down our problem like the snow. Layer after layer finally builds until we realize we can’t make it through. Our own little shovel won’t make a dent in the mess. It's only then we finally call for help. Admit that all we’ve left undone has overwhelmed our lives and we just can’t do it on our own. We look up sheepishly and realize that help, a loving Heavenly father, was there all the time - if we’d just made the call.
Here’s to us all learning how to dig out the easy way! And an early spring...

...It's a Snow Day!...

2007-03-02T10:25:00.000-05:00

Welcome to our snowy corner of the woods. The neighbourhood is buzzing with action - today is a snow day! Make sure your kids bring their snow gear to join the fun - its perfect packing snow for forts and igloos. If they don't have the right stuff - don't worry, we always have a stash of extra mitts and hats.

We can hang out by the fireplace - I have freshly brewed Starbucks - or I can get you something cold to drink. Its been a busy few days around here - lots of sadness. This is the perfect excuse to sit, chat about simple things and cherish the day...

Please leave a message and I'll be sure to come visit - its so much easier to travel in cyberspace - you don't need to worry about the roads being closed!

...Just for Today...

2007-03-01T10:02:00.000-05:00

Just for today I’ll let them play in the snow. Decked out in coats and mitts and hats until I can barely see their faces. I'll close the door and watch as the backyard becomes a huge white sandbox. Perfect for making snow forts. Perfect for layng down in and letting the sparkling flakes fall onto cold rosy cheeks. Perfect for soaking up the warth of the winter sun and basking in its glow. Perfect for making a host of angels and deep footprints.

Just for today I’ll serve them hot chocolate and not worry about how much sugar is in it! I’ll bake cookies and serve chicken soup and crackers for lunch.

Just for today.

Just for today I’ll listen in on their conversations. Hearing the bravado, the dreams and plans that reside in their young hearts.

Just for today I’ll let them play "Heart and Soul" on the piano over and over and over. And as they play I can see glimpses of great masterpieces that may someday flow through their fingers.
Just for today I will watch them make castles and fight battles against pirates. I will stay silent as the floor is filled with colourful blocks... a floor that too soon will be emptied of legos and other toys.

Just for today I tackle the pile of soggy boots and coats dropped at the door, and put them away for them. I will unload the dishwasher, set and clear the table, put laundry in the hamper and let them play.

Just for today I will quietly watch them take the cushions of the couch; make hideouts and caves, and not complain about the mess.

Just for today I pray they will see, not their clumsy, growing bodies, but the beauty of the creations they are. May they know they have purpose and significance. May they grasp the strength of the cross in their weakness. May they know pure, unadulterated love and acceptance.

And when the darkness settles in, I will gather them 'round, play silly card games, watch their favorite tv shows, serve popcorn with lots of butter and cuddle by the fire under cosy blankets.

Just for today.

Just for today when their sleepy heads hit the pillow, I will pray that their dreams are filled with possibilities. That any voice of doubt or discouragement would be silenced as they feel us cheer them on. I Pray that they will hear "you can do it" ringing in their ears, deafening the the other voices.

Tomorrow will surely come, and with it the heartache that will grow them into strong adults. It will knock chips off their shoulders, fortify their faith and their backbone. It will cause them to know beyond all doubt that their God is enough... no matter what they may face. It will be hard and it will be necessary...and it will be good.

But just for today, I’ll let them be children. I’ll shelter them. I’ll be their champion and draw them so close that no one can hurt them. Protect them...

Just for today.

...Fingerprints...

2007-02-28T15:10:00.001-05:00

My friend would have turned 51 this year. As I read this again I am reminded of the legacy she has left in her children and the empty place at every family dinner. Heavenly reunions will be all the sweeter for them someday.

I was standing outside the house, gardening the day she drove up and told me she had been to the doctor. The cancer had come back she said. It was so matter-of-fact that I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly but in the days to come she, her family and friends began to process the news.

Her story has been nothing short of a miracle really. Before we had even met she had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma and given two years to live. I remember her telling me how she began at that time to pull away from her friends, from her family...preparing to say goodbye. And then, with only the intervention of God, she was healed. She went on to have twins and when they were about a year old we met. Our boys were nursery buddies.

It wasn’t long until we were welcomed into the fold. You didn’t stay a stranger long in her circles. Hers was a house you walked right into - the door was always open. No need to knock - just pull up a chair, pour a coffee and join the conversation. She share her home, her life and her faith. Often she would tell me about someone here or there she had met, shared her story with and led to the Lord. Oh, yes, and they would be coming over shortly if I wanted to meet them.

The year the cancer came back the two of us were home schooling our children and spent time almost every day together. It was that year she went through her first round of chemo. She was determined to stay strong, not let it affect her but even in the early days it was a struggle. Despite her weakness, with God she was strong. Bad news, cancer or otherwise was to be taken to God in prayer and WE were to keep on being obedient. During that time I watched her continue to touch those she encountered every day.

I remember one ladyspecifically from our small town who also had cancer. The two of them had their appointments on the same day in the city hospital. She recognized her in the waiting room and went over to talk. She shared her story and gave hope to one who sitting quietly in a hospital needed something greater to live for. Cancer was not as strong as faith on that day. It wasn’t just because she was a people person either - it was because she knew the power of a life saved. Saved from sin and saved from death.

She loved. Her friends and her family. If you were over in the afternoon she would always get the coffee ready so that when her husband came home it would be waiting for him. She was always looking for ways to honour him. She was a typical mama and fiercely proud and protective of her children. She prayed over them, worried over them, bragged about them - loved them. They each bear a part of her and will carry a legacy of faith throughout their lives.

She loved life. She fought and prayed to live as long as God would allow. She reminded me often we have not been promised a life without struggles and heartache but we are called for a greater purpose. It is not that grand purpose for which many ascribe; fame, or knowledge, or significance, but rather a life of obedience and service. In the seemingly mundane "daily-ness" of life you could catch glimpses of Heaven as bodies were healed and even more miraculous lives were restored. In was in those everyday events, with everyday people that she became the hands and feet of her Savior.

On her family, her friends, and even strangers, she left indelible fingerprints that have touched our hearts and made us so much the better to have known her.

She is finally in the place her heart has resided for so long. Today, she sees it all, not as a mere reflection in the mirror, but clearly revealed in the face of her Saviour. For her there is no more suffering but only joy as she saw Jesus, waiting at an open door to take her in His arms and welcome her home.

...If You Want Me to...

2007-02-28T14:38:00.000-05:00

Ginny Owens is a young Christian singer. She is blind and I have often wondered how hard it would be knowing you would never see your husband as you walk down the aisle, your child take his first step, or many of the other precious things in life. I'm still learning seeing clearly does not always come through human eyes. Sometimes, it comes from insight and understanding that can only be seen through the Holy Spirit's vision. This is one of my favorite songsby Ginny and one that always reminded me of my friend and has been playing around in my head today... I thought I'd share...

The pathway is broken
And The signs are unclear
And I don't know the reason why You brought me here
But just because You love me the way that You do
I'm gonna walk through the valley If You want me to

Cause I'm not who I was When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
so if all of these trials bring me closer to you
Then I will go through the fire If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When you lead me through a world that's not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I'd never go alone
So When the whole world turns against me And I'm all by myself
And I can't hear You answer my cries for help
I'll remember the suffering Your love put You through
And I will go through the valleyIf You want me to

When I cross over Jordan,
I'm gonna sing, gonna shout
I'm gonna look into Your eyes and see
You never let me down

So take me on the pathway that will lead me home to You
And I will walk through the valley If You want me to

...the Path to Hollywood...

2007-02-22T10:53:00.000-05:00

Has anyone else marvelled over all the talent that makes its way out from the church pews and onto the stage of American Idol? This year is no exception. I went through the bios quickly and over half of them say they will thank "God" if they win. ...ya ya... most actors in Hollywood will say the same thing on Oscar night - and while I'm not implying that any of them have a greater or lesser relationship to God I am impressed by the ones that talk about him like He's a friend.

Also, I'm Canadian and so none of those guys are from my small town...instead I'll vote for my other hometown - Heaven - cause that's where I am apparently gonna meet a few of them someday. Ironically, the one's our family are really impressed with seem to be mostly from the same "hometown"...cool...and...without further babblings here are my picks...

Melinda Doolittle - I loved Randy's comment that others have much bravado and little talent and she was the complete opposite with much talent and little bravado... but she can belt it out - she was brought here for "such a time as this" Shine girl-Shine!

Jordin Sparks - is a real spitfire - and 17!! But she is young and that depth that comes from well, living, is just not developed yet. I love her but the momma in me wants to see her wait a few years...

Lakisha Jones - Musta been the best first night performance evaah! She can sing, she can move - wow. And when she was done I loved watching her soak up the praise like a sponge - slowly the words are permeating her heart - like a chrysalis coming out of her cocoon, - fly butterfly!

...and the boys...

Well they have yet to really show enough...

I still have my fav's -

Chris Sligh - He has a following apparently - The "Fro-patrol" makes me smile and one day he may make David Hasselhof cry - just hope he stays humble.

Blake Lewis - His voice is kinda like a smooth lindor truffle. Loved it.

Phil Stacey - American Idol's young dad. With those piercing blue eyes, terrific voice and three girls cheering him on at home he is already a winner.

It's still snowing outside, I can hear the wind blowing it all around but American Idol gives me 5 [five!] bright hours in the week...

...Tonight it Starts...

2007-02-20T10:24:00.000-05:00

The top 24...yes - all fellow American Idol fans know this is where it gets good - - and I think I've found my IOC (Idols of Choice). While I like talent I think the music sounds better when it comes from a place of depth and character. Kinda like the depth of flavour that comes from marinating a steak.

Check these two out...http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season6/melinda_doolittle/ and http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season6/chris_sligh/
Check out his Blog here - http://theologicaldigressions.blogspot.com/ who-da thought a MK on American Idol!

...Bubblegum and Other Things to Chew On...

2007-02-20T08:59:00.000-05:00

We have a 5 bedroom house and each room is full of kiddy things. One day, when my kids are all grown up, I will hope to have a guest bedroom and it will be a room of words - I love words. I can picture it. Some written on the wall, some in frames, maybe even a few on pillows...I want it to be a room that inspires me more from the shared thoughts of others than the decorating prowess of one.

These are a few of contenders that may one day be emroidered on a pillow:

Better to spend our time on people than our money on things.
That which costs us too little we esteem too lightly.
Moments of Silence are part of the Music.
Teach me to number our days that I may gain a heart of Wisdom Ps 9o:12
If we lose this battle it will not be because our God was not strong enough, nor that Satan was more powerful, but that the saints did not show up to fight...
It's better to raise a child than repair and adult.
Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashionable.

...Eyes Wide Open...

2007-02-16T15:12:00.000-05:00

So Saturday morning I woke up, had my coffee in bed with my darling husband and realized what the strange feeling I was having was - it was Target withdrawals. You would have to be a Canadian or something like it to experience this phenomena however. You see Walmart made its way north many years ago but despite the rumours Target has yet to peek its toe into our country. When we go on vacation it is my favorite store to visit. The kids always joke around when we see one - "Mom - it's your store!"

I'm not sure what brought on the feelings this time - it may have been the laundry that still waited in the hamper and the bathroom floor...and the cold, wet stuff that had already been through a cycle Friday afternoon... it might have been that the cat is in heat and sounding loveeely... or just the knowing that the snow outside my door was gonna keep us all inside these walls for yet another weekend.

Then we got a brilliant idea.

It was time for a mini vacation - to Target!!
(Actually just south of the border to stay in a hotel that happens to be near a Target store.)

We went online and got the name of a few hotels and then my darling Hubby called "Tom" from the Fairfield Inn and got us a great deal on 2 rooms. Wow - two rooms. That was a first for us. But we have 4 children now and trying to pack us all in to 2 double beds just isn't working for anyone anymore. So now the older three Cookie(10), Pickle(9) & Coco(12) got their own "Executive King" to themselves - complete with their own card to open the door and microwave and mini fridge. Let me tell you it doesn't take much to please them yet. We threw in an indoor pool and mom and dad were heroes! The girls, Cookie & Pickle got the king size bed and big brother Coco got the pull out couch. The verdict was out on who actually got the remote control.

I should tell you about getting over the border. We picked the line that didn't move. While all four other lines kept creeping along we sat still...and waited. I noticed that even in the other lines the border guards were being ultra diligent - checking through trunks etc. I wasn't sure whether someone was being difficult ahead of us or whether we got the border guard who was in a bad mood and ultra picky. Finally the line began to inch along and we eventually made it to the front. "Kids," we warned, "remember no on talks unless they are spoken to - now quiet!' We went through the ritual, handed over all the birth certificates etc. and waited while she inspected them.
"Where are you going?"
"Just away for a bit"
"How long will you be in the US?"
"Until tomorrow" (Gasps from the backseat - the kids think we are there for the day.)
"Where are you staying?"
"The Fairfield Inn"(more gasps and whispering)
"How's T?" (T is our 3 year old foster - soon to be adopted son who has a travel letter from the agency). My son shouts out "He's sleeping!" from the back of the van. I cringe but she smiles. She goes on to ask us about fostering, how long we have done it etc. Then she smiles and hands us back our ID and says,"What a nice thing to do to foster - that's great - have a nice day." And we were off - no inspection at all.

"We are staying overnight??!!"
We had been trying to keep this a secret so mom and dad could see the the excitement on their faces when we drove up to the hotel not the Target.
"No," I say "Dad just said that so that we could bring back more stuff from the US."
"So, my parents lied to the border guys to get more stuff...we learned about that in Sunday School last week."
I cringe - now in a dilemma over whether I should tell them or not - I decide to keep it going because this could be a great lesson.
"No", it's technically not because we can always change our minds and come home early."
Well my brilliant son wasn't gonna take that for an answer. "He continues to mutter in the back along with his sisters, "How'd ya like that - My mom and dad lied....they lied and said we were staying in a hotel."
I was feeling a bit guilty and the hotel was minutes away so I turned around and announced that we were staying at a hotel. They cheered a bit but the whole moment was lost- darn border
guards!

Well we swam, we watched TV, we went shopping even to Target...we made mini memories on our mini-vacation. And then it was time to head for home. It was a beautiful sunny day, the roads were clear and the sky was blue, blue, blue...until we got closer to the lake. What a difference 15 minutes makes. The sky went grey, the snow was falling lightly but there was snow and drifts all over the roads. I didn't think much of it. We are Canadians and this is winter. My husband is a good driver...

And then we hit the icy patch. Our van began to slide all over the road into the other lane and back...and then into the ditch. A big deep ditch actually. The kids were screaming in the back.and when we stopped the snow made a big whoosh over our car.

There we were...stuck, just a few feet from a tree...on the side without hydro poles...with no cars around to have collided with...everyone was seat belted and sitting properly... Angels guiding us straight into the safest thing around - a big pile of snow. A driver stopped, we got a tow truck to pull us out - my little T's real live "Tow Mater" (think "Cars" movie)- he was thrilled.

My older son said it best..."Wow, what a weekend, We went away - my parents lied - then they didn't lie, then we went into the ditch..." What a weekend indeed! Although it ended up not being such a big deal all the couldas I mentioned earlier kept going around in my head. It showed me how much we are not in control of anything in this life really. We can be careful, we can teach our children, we can do everything within our power to control outcomes but in the end we still need our God to take the wheel. The one who sees the future and will guide us every step - good or bad. The one who loves our kids even more than we do. The one who can take a spinning car and land his children safely in a snowbank - reminding us how fleeting this life can be and how eternal He really is.

...blankets of grace...

2007-02-16T10:53:00.000-05:00

I don’t believe in re-incarnation ... but...if I did I can tell you I musta been a Southern Gal. Probably would have been Miss Melanie’s friend but secretly wanted to hang with Scarlett. The fact that I wouldn’t have been a handsome rum-running hoodlum likely meant she would not have given me the time of day... but I digress.

In reality I live in Canada!! Can you believe the contrast from peach trees to snow tires! If I look out my window there are huge fields of white as far as my eyes can see. Interspersed are a few houses, barns and silos. The snow is fresh and white which is a good thing because come February there are often times that everything has become grey and mucky and rather dreary here.

There are a few (and by a few I mean not very many!) Good things about the snow. ..
Firstly, it looks awfully pretty at Christmastime when the twinkly lights reflect against it and put everyone in a good mood.
Secondly, I love snow days. Not the ones when the school buses are cancelled but when all the roads are closed and even hubby can’t go to work. We sit by the fire, cosy up and enjoy a day in.

Pure bliss.

Thirdly, snow covers a multitude of things. I have four children...who all have many friends...who all like to play in our yard. It’s awesome all year but come autumn I find my yard filled with pretty much everything you could think of as well as many you might shake your head at: Toys, gardening implements, weeds I have not pulled, enough clothing items to start a thrift store long since discarded while in or waiting for a turn at the trampoline, chewed up doggy stuff, leftover bricks from the girls pyramid project and, well, I could go on, but you get the picture. I look out at the mess daily and think - I gotta get at that stuff and clean up before winter. But in those grey days when all the leaves have fallen and there is no colour anywhere I find myself agreeing with Scarlett's anthem that "tomorrow is another day!"

Then it happens.

The kids come screaming into our bedroom at 6:00 in the morning, "Mom, come look out the window!" By then I already know what has happened because the reflection from the snow already has made the house brighter than it has been in weeks. I look out and smile as the blanket of white covers up all the unfinished business in my yard. It grants me a reprieve until spring.

King David must have know the same feeling. Psalms 51:7 says, "Wash me and I will be whiter than snow." I’m sure it wasn’t just the color he was referring to but also the covering of grace that blankets a multitude of sins leaving everything pure and clean. It lifts the grey off our shoulders and allows us to curl up and just spend a peaceful day with our God.

Wishing you a white day cosied up with the King of Kings.

...transfusions...

2007-02-16T10:52:00.000-05:00

She sat at the table, body failing, mind more alive than ever. I felt as if I should glean every ounce of knowledge from her time in the valley. Looking into her gaunt eyes and watching her flinch in pain made me wonder if this was what nearing the end of life looked like.“Did you have the transfusion at the hospital here, or after they transferred you?”“Oh,” she exclaimed as her face suddenly lit up, “let me tell you about that.”My friend, has the unique ability to find a God moment in every situation. Sometimes you just shake your head, but seeing the strength of spirit as she straddles death’s door, I am reminded that her faith is real and this is what happens when you spend a lifetime hanging out with the King of Kings. So, I sit back, smile and listen, as she speaks.“I had the transfusion in the hospital here,” she began. “The nurse came in and explained all the risks and side-effects of having the blood. There were a lot. At the very least, however, I would have irritation at the site. This is someone else’s blood going into you and it is unfamiliar to your body.”
I had no idea.
She continues with a smile. “I looked up at the nurse and asked her if she was a Christian.” Like anyone who knows my friend, I grinned, this was a usual question for her. “The nurse looked at me and paused...Uh, yes, she guessed she was. So I asked her if she would hold my hand and agree in prayer that there would be no ill-effects from the transfusion, and well, yes, she figured she could do that. So in the hospital room we held hands and I prayed over that blood. Then she started the drip. I watched that blood enter my hand and immediately became overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the person: who I felt was a man. He had donated his blood to give me life. I would have died without it.”
She was right, after the first Chemotherapy treatment for late stage Lymphoma her blood counts had dropped so low she was forced to lie in a hospital bed fevered and isolated from her young family. Without the transfusion she would have died.
“I began to pray for this person, because even though I didn’t know who it was, God did. I prayed for his family: for his salvation. I prayed that he would be blessed because of his gift. He gave his blood for me. I was able to come home once again to my family because of it.”
In a day and age where even church’s want to remove all mention of something as grotesque as blood I was reminded once again of it’s importance. A precious, life-giving substance that poured out can give hope to another. I was reminded of my Saviour. Nailed to a wooden cross He too gave His blood. The day I decided to accept His gift I received my own transfusion of sorts, one that gave me another chance – for without it I would surely have died.

...on cave dwellers...

2007-02-14T09:55:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, in the midst of planning for greatness God calls us to hunker down in a cave. The best of the best have been there.

Observe David.

A young man at the cusp of the kingdom goes into hiding. To his credit, he knew to wait for God’s perfect timing. Others, like me, get swallowed up by that infamous whale. Determined to chart our own course we sail off in the direction of disobedience. It’s funny how we often find ourselves sitting in a slimy, fishy cave. That’s love. You see in the dark, when God seems most quiet, he is most assuredly working a transformation of character to bolster us for the next leg of the race. In a day of instant gratification we might ask why he chooses such a long process rather than handing our character over to us right away. It’s simple really: the load would be too heavy to carry.