I Timothy 6:6 in action

Today I am studying.

I have a speaking engagement in less than a month.

I HAVE been studying for weeks, months now, listening to what God is saying, when He lights a scripture passage to my eye and when my littles teach me an invaluable lesson.

Now I am attempting to grab all of these scattergrammed thoughts and compress them for a group of ladies who have quite possibly (gulp) paid to attend and hear…..me.

And I want them to hear Him.

And today I am studying.

I am observing why He loves, how He loves, how it changes us, how the world is made just for us to have communion with Him.

And my observations lead me to Mrs. F.

She is a farmers wife. She tells me she has never been one for fancies and fruveloughs. She always covers her mouth when she laughs, which is too cute for words. She always wears boots and bright socks with her culottes, and donnes a smock all day as she works among the flower beds and such outside.

The farm equipment is rusting. The front door is held open with a tack and an old piece of clothing elastic. The flowers in a huge bush cluster almost cover her front door and she is always cutting and offering them to whomever wants them. They are precious like her and it is amazing to her that many folks take clippings and can never get the flowers to grow like she can, and smiles at me telling me it must be the soil.

I smile back, knowing it is indeed the soil. The rich soil of a heart overflowing with gratitude.

I thankful, refuse a clipping, telling her that I will take some sometime.

When the soil is ready for planting.

We drink from mismatched cups, and she talks about nothing in particular, and I tell her I aim for her calmness.

She covers her mouth and giggles.

It is so contagious that I giggle too.

And the sun warms on us and the flowers smell deliciously lovely and I am thankful for this moment.

Her daughter is recently married, and I look at Mrs. F’s wedding set on her left hand and cannot even see a stone among a square setting.

My own set seems too big all of a sudden.

As she motions with her hand the engagement ring slides slowly around her finger and I wonder if she has ever wanted more.

Has she ever wanted a bigger stone?

A bigger house?

Matching cups and plates?

And when I tease that now that their only child is married they should take a grand vacation, to Hawaii perhaps, she giggles, hand over mouth.

“No.” she tells me in more of a sigh than a sentence.

And then without warning she continues,

“I would never want to be anywhere but here.”

Here, I think?

Here. I understand.

“I’m content here.”

And with that I am overcome. She IS content. Content to reuse paper, stickers, string and elastic.

Content to walk slowly, giggle often, be still, do what is needful, and relish the moment of a fine afternoon.

Content to let the world go by, the roof get old and squeaky, and see God in finding a new place to store the hay wagon.

And I smile and go on my way to my busy busy life and without warning it sneaks up on me…..

Envy.

And she turns to tend the flowers.

But godliness with contentment is great gain. I Timothy 6:6

A sign of the Times

Today I am hanging a sign over the kitchen sink.

A sign I have seen in Amish country.

A thousand times.

And today I think on it.

Steal it's thought,

Learn from Simple sweet folk

and remember to stop and enjoy.

"Slow. Children at Play."

The best laid plans of mice and men often go array....

Just checking in with you all to remind you that we are all still works in progress friends.

Today we had plans.

And usually when we have plans that means a quick toast breakfast leaving jam smudges on seats, hands and usually garments and cheeks. It means rushing to the car, frequent runs back into the house to retrieve blankets, glasses of water, left footed shoes and diapers.

You pack sandwiches because you do want to be frugal and hey, who couldn’t do with more jam smudges? You tell yourself that it is ok because by- standers will see the smudges and you will have the opportunity to tell them that those smudges did not come from STORE BOUGHT jam. No Sir. You wait. You bask in this moment. You inhale. You exhale and with a wisp of Motherly confidence you tell the not so lucky by- stander with an annoying sing-songy voice that you made that jam. You climbed half a mountain to get those precious dew covered blackberries. You tickled them with sugar. You boiled them into deliciousness. You still scratch at the scabs on your arms from being dumb enough to go berry picking with short sleeves.

You conveniently leave that part out.

And if you do not have occasion to find that lucky by- stander, you can always blog about what you would say given the opportunity. (big smile)

Ahem. Back to the van…

You tell yourself you will knit and sing Spiritual Songs with your brood while you travel to your destination.

You lie.

You end up yelling at third son for licking Fritos and promise to have Dad pull the car over if child number six unbuckles her seatbelt ONE.MORE.TIME.

Almost like knitting……

Your dear husband ends up pulling through a fast food drive through and humoring Mom who would rather drown in chicken nuggets than eat her own jam. In a moment of complete abandonment you hear Hubby order five hot fudge sundaes and you instantly feel the blood drain out your toes. I cannot comment further on this part of the day….. I think I chose to block this part of my day out.

Wisely.

We reach destination and begin to hope that as the mass exodus from the van begins, more children then take out trash falls out of mentioned van.

A small success.

You don lip gloss and head into the ABEKA homeschool display area of the swanky hotel. You smile the “I so have it all together-----ok really I am so frayed at the edges that I am barely hanging on, but I sure hope you don’t catch on,” smile.

You sit in the corner where the nice Representative has his company’s video curriculum showing.

“This will be fun.” I think.

I thought wrong.

We are watching the classic ABEKA Kindergarten classroom.

The chalkboard is FULL of colored pictures, charts, numbers, and a HUGE heart, meticulously drawn in chalk, with great attention to detail. The upstairs/downstairs/basement house is in the heart and she is teaching the letter “V.” Hence the “Valentine,” which she so sweetly says in her Southern accent a dozen or so times and points to her chalkboard heart.

By “Her” I mean Mrs. Bear.

She is divine.

I watch her and secretly wish I could steal her and take her home with me.

Well I not so secretly say that out loud.

And the kids look at me. One even hugs me and says, “Mom, you can be like that.”

Thanks Mrs. Bear.

So we watch and more parents gather and I am feeling like a big zero with the ring rubbed out, and Mrs. Bear gets nicer and I get more agitated that I do not have the gift of teaching and in this mess third son comes to me and says,

“Mom. I think I’ve seen Christopher Columbus.”

Second son comes and notes, pointing at the screen, “ Mom. They’re doing cursive. I didn’t learn cursive in Kindergarten…”

I look at third son and in my best Mrs. Bear voice I reply, “ You probably saw a picture of Christopher Columbus before..”

“No Mom. I SAW him.”

First daughter chimes in, “He’s dead.”

Third son proceeds to persuade his sister that he did indeed see Christopher Columbus and I amazingly find a way to excuse myself giving that afore mentioned smile to each mother I pass as I head to the other corner of the room…….

We order, we leave, we head to bookstore across the street that is going out of business.

And 20 minutes later Hubby finds me loaded with books like Pilgrim and his burden, ranging from, “Cooking on a Budget” to “Managing your own Homestead.” And it is at this moment that I wonder how I got here.

How did I get into this schlump (ok not recognized as a word by this computer, but recognized by every homeschooling Mom of littles… I digress…) where a Kindergarten teacher with 80’s hair is competing with me? Where my kids knowing cursive would make me a better Mother?

Seriously.

Sometimes saying things out loud shows you just how silly you have become.

Why does the world have to know how far I walked to pick blackberries for jam, or how many articles of clothing I have stored under my bed for the sole purpose of cutting into quilt squares?

I don’t know why.

I just know it happens.

And in the middle of the “self help” section of the 60 percent off books it hits me.

Not a book, a thought….. just in case you were wondering…..

“God knows.”

He knows I don’t feel good enough, sweet enough, lovely enough to teach.

He knows I try to do so much in my own strength to my own detriment several times a day.

He knows I forget that all the power and strength and help I could ever need is already at my disposal through Christ.

Who lives in me.

Who goes with me to the self help section.

Who hears me stack the cards between me and Mrs. Bear.

And knows that I need just claim HIS help, strength, peace, wisdom, strength and joy.

I walk to the front of the store to join my family who have suffered long waiting for me.

They have waited for me to set down self help books and pick up a book and read to them on long Summer afternoons.

They have waited for me to seep God’s love out of my life, my tongue and give them a little of that Mrs. Bear graciousness that I do have while walking in the Spirit.

They have waited for me to stop caring who sees, who knows and what someone thinks of me and make jam just for the sheer joy of making it.

I set book after book down on the shelves as I pass them, eyes on my family waiting at the front of the store.

I choose a crockpot recipe book.

I smile at them.

We head home.

And on the way home dear Dad sees two black bears on the side of the road and pulls over.

On my side.

To see them better.

And I hit the power lock.

And I tell myself that I have picked enough blackberries for the year.

Or two.

(smile)

Mid-Summer Memories

Hello you lovely folks, you.

It is August already and I am enjoying some much needed quietness at the local library which has almost turned back the hands of the clock and stopped in years past, when men ran libraries with full suits on, card catalogs still gathered dust, and air conditioning rattled false ceiling.

And I am thinking about this wonderful life that has ebbed and flowed for us this Summer.

Abby got new glasses. Seeing her fiddle with them reminds me of 4th grade, and wishing for glasses and braces so I could fit in. I wish and pray for her to love however God alters her eyes, teeth, hair and height. Just love her and her scars from stitches from falling out of trees.

Just like I did when I was her age.

Lately the Lord has seen fit to bring me through a period of rest. I am back to testing for various and sundry things that make my heart skip, my energy just out of grasp, and my mind fuzzy.

I have been through this a few times and each time I am an emotional wreck.

Except for this time.

This time I am resting in Him who knows the end from the beginning. I am praying over appointments, over stressful situations, over dishes for strength and at bedtime for sleep.

God is more than enough for me.

For you too.

I am sitting next to the magazine section where various titles jump out at me regarding what was innocent turned cancer. I used to shy from even seeing the word. Who wouldn't?

But I am realizing that God is here with me.

In me.

He alone gives us the strength we need for each day. I am letting Him guide me with His eye.

Yesterday I was feeling particularly miserable in body and spirit and I decided to enjoy the kids.

Yes, I decided.

I picked beans with them, and as one son commented on how he needed to grab this weed he found from the root or it would only grow back, I had the great privilege to also remind him that the soil of our hearts can become filled with weeds that needed a good pulling.

From the root.

We sweat, pick and I take them to the porch where I sit and snap beans and watch them put on a play for me in the front yard. The cars look on as they pass by, some older folks, some young.

And for a second it hits me that they might see me snapping beans and the kids frolicking and want to stop a while and enjoy this wonderful life with me.

It has been a while since I have enjoyed children……… my children.

The workers at the bank, the store, the library, tell them how lovely they are.

Do I tell them too?

I laugh at the myriad of funny faces they are giving me. They interview each other with a paintbrush, asking one another what makes a good family.

I smile.

Have I shown them?

Am I showing them?


Joel told me the other day that corn is one of the only plants that he knows of that doesn't droop when it needs water.

I look at him puzzled.

"It points up when it needs rain."

It felt like he, not even meaning to, saw into my heart in the midst of drought.

I turned so he wouldn't see the tear falling and whispered into the car window,

"It knows where it's help comes from."

The Lord Himself answered,

"YES."

My mind just swirled.

The sparrow, the lily of the field,

the.... corn?

All of them fret not, nor toil, nor spin.

Their heavenly father knows what they need.

He knows we need a good soft rain.

He knows I need a good soft rain.

And He reminds me to look up.

Look up.

And so I begin to take my eyes off of the unknown and worrisome now, and look up.

We put the kids in a tent in the yard and roast marshmallows.

De-lish.

I shouldn't.

But I do.

And I eat and let the marshmallow kids kiss my cheek and we laugh as our daughter keeps losing hers to the fire and we just keep laughing until it is time to go to sleep.

We sit out by the fire and comfort son who keeps poking his nose out because of fear.

So much like me.

We answer the "What if's."

I think of God.

And how much more patient He is with me, than I am with my son, who is so like me.

We sit and decide to watch for falling stars.

Joel has seen so many in his life already.

He is accustomed to looking up.

I am not.

I have never seen one.

And then almost taking my breath away it happens.

It jets across the sky!

I am in awe.

This is commonplace to Joel.

This is life altering to me.

I thank God and clap my hands together. I think of Job, who in great affliction and trial hears God tell him of his greatness and all that He created, reminding him that He can be trusted again and again.

We map out the constellations and enjoy life. Together.

I look at my sweet husband, all loving and patient, look at my tent of kids and at a star filled night and my heart is full.

I will decide to stop looking for answers.

I will keep looking up.

Sweet Mid Summer's to you all!

Grace is flowing.......

I heard a story recently from a sweet Pastor's Wife's own lips that frankly, still has me grinning from ear to ear.

She told me that she was in the car with her husband reading him a book regarding health. His health. He had been having a time physically and she, doing what all of us good wives would do, found some sort of information on how to help. AND SHARED. Well, apparently he was none the excited about what she was sharing, and when sweet she noticed that he was NOT noticing turned and asked him, "Are you even gonna DO any of these things I am telling you about??" And a turn of the head was the reply.

A horizontal turn of the head in case you were wondering.

And with that she rolled down her window and threw out the book.

(pause to grasp this friends)

SHE THREW THE BOOK OUT THE WINDOW.

Like, on the road.

And THAT. THAT makes me happy.

Giddy actually.

They were a happily married couple, faithfully serving the Lord, raising a Godly brood, and her, now in her I believe 60's, smiled as she relayed the circumstances to me that beautiful Spring afternoon. She even chuckled telling me that she had to go back to the woman who gave her the book and tell her what happened and asked her if she could have another one.

That would never come close to a window again unless she was putting it on the shelf.

Everyone has "life days."

I had one today.

And I am sitting on the bed, coffee nearby, wrapped in my fav blanket that was a gift from my sis in law her first Christmas with the fam. I am surrounded by happy.

And in my happy spot, I unfold the napkin of days events to relay them to you.

But the beginning begins with the end of my day funny enough.

Just a few minutes ago, while finishing up my time in my "think tank" otherwise known as the show-er, I realized the kids had taken all of the towels to various and sundry parts of the house.

Hmmph.

So as I was preparing to wash my face, I got a good look at me, with my electric blue shirt wrapped around my head, with one earring showing and smiled thinking how closely I resembled an African woman.

These are "life day" moments.

They catch you off guard and smile and say, "Hello. This is your life. Dealwithit."

And sometimes you smile.

And sometimes you throw the book out the window.

On to today.....

Today we had a LOT on our plate.

And most of it was Brussel sprouts honestly.

But we were off and running and we whizzed to the first thing.

This put us in a situation where God led us to a man who so ministered to my husband. I sat and watched and smiled. I looked at the man, and then I looked at my husband. I looked back and the man and then again at my husband. I watched a sweet volley of conversation that was God ordained. Water to dry ground.

It was as if God said, "You need some grace poured into some cracks you have? Here ya go."

And conversation flowed.

And grace flowed.

Then in a flash we were gone and to our next event. It was a Graduation party. Just a party.

I should have known that a few life lessons were gonna show up and God would be working. He does love to work in base things, does He not?

We arrived and began the ascent to the house, barely standing. People drinking, laughing, hushing when we drew near to them.

I smiled, handed the graduate her card and sat next to one of our members. She looked uneasy, and I wanted to tell her, "Girl, the 'uneasy' is where I come alive!" We talked and laughed, were fed and the graduate and her fiance came to talk.

We have tried our dead level best to encourage them. Counsel them. But they would not.

Now, a week away from marrying, they both have STD's and our graduate is expecting.

I winced as each new "fact" was presented to us. I just died inside for them. No wisdom. Hard choices. No foundation for marriage. New baby.

Now I am not a "hide it on the outside" person. If I am sad, I show it. If I am happy, I show it.

Maybe good, maybe bad. But nevertheless it's me.

And out of the corner of my eye I see him.

An old him.

Old, tanned, wrinkled and every ounce persnickety.

He smokes and looks on.

He cannot hear our conversation, but he can see my face.

I swallow hard.

I listen on. Joel is all of grace. I am burying my head in pasta salad.

I literally want to run and hide, scream and come back to resume my Pastor's Wifely duties.

I cannot.

I look at their hands, showing rings already worn before any ceremony, clutching pop, nervous.

I look at their eyes, flinching, sad, scared.

They need grace.

They "want to make the best" of the situation. They want "to beat the odds."

CAN God take this.

Can he use us to pour grace into hard deep cracks? Broken spots, decay that shows?

I listen as Joel pours grace running off from his cracks to theirs.

I smile a "Whatever I can do. I WILL do" smile.

They need grace to show them help.

And it flows and brings smiles of hope.

We have to go. We thank everyone. People groping for themselves for want of wisdom. Sceptical of us. The NEW Pastor and his family. I decide to approach the wrinkled old man.

I stretch out my hand. He takes it, but his whole body leans away from it, as a sign that he is shaking my hand but wants no part of me. I get it. I press on.

I hear someone behind me, our church member tell me that she should introduce me to her Father.

Noooooo... not your Father. The one who you have told me about, everyone has told me about. The town knows about.

Who's daughter lost her arm in a meat grinder, who beat his son until he passed out. THIS man. Father?

They are grown, and he is an old man, but is still feared by everyone. And now me standing in front of him.

He looks at his cigarette as if I had a magnifying glass to it.

"I have been smoking since I was young ******** and I DON'T have lung cancer!!!******" he tells me sternly.

My stubbornness rises to the challenge.

"Well that's a good thing you don't."

He is taken back.

I am not running.

I smile.

He begins to tell me all of his injustices.

I am a great fan of people watching and as he speaks, I listen

and watch.

I cover every wrinkle, every scar, his completely toothless mouth, and see what the end of life without God will bring you to.

He tells me something.

I nod.

He swears.

again

and again.

I have heard it all before.

Joel comes to meet him.

He motions that we need to get to our next stop.

I thank the man for his time.

He is genuinely surprised.

I offer him my hand again.

He takes it.

I pat him on the arm as I walk by.

He is baffled.

I hug his daughter, still hurting, in her 40's. I hold on after she has let go.

Grace.

Grace from God through me, covering the rough spots.

I smile.

It will be alright. God has grace for everyone.

Even me.

I cannot fix. I cannot heal. I CAN show grace. Grace that is given to me, flowing over from my cracks to yours.

"Life days" happen.

Hurt. Frustration.

Hurriedness. Hope deffered.

But......

Grace is flowing like a river
From the mount of Calvary.
Look to Jesus Christ the Giver;
He from sin can set you free.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Heaven's fountain ever floweth;
All our need has been supplied.
Taste His love receive His mercy;
No one yet has been denied.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Through the blood of Christ forgiven,
Dry the tears from ev'ry face.
Through His cross an heir of Heaven,
Evermore a child of grace.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Come to Jesus, weary sinner;
Calv'ry's river flows today.
All who plunge beneath that fountain
Wash their guilty stains away.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

He leadeth me. A blessed thought!

Ever had a boss you just could not please?

No matter what?

I have. I have been a waitress, a cashier, a house cleaner, a secretary, a business cleaner, a librarian, and even had a stint as a sandwich with meat and cheese hanging all whichway.

Yes friends, when you are paying your way through high school you are stupid enough to take a job dressed as a sub sandwich, and you will subject yourself to waving to passerby's hoping they will visit your franchise.

I digress.

I have had great employers........and not so great.

There are few things more frustrating than trying to please someone whom you cannot understand. I remember working as a business cleaner with some friends and never really feeling like I could do a good job. Oh I cleaned my heart out, but the boss just never seemed happy, like he intentionally had a corner somewhere that unbeknownced to me SHOULD have been cleaned though I never knew it's whereabouts.

Or there was that boss that changed my responsibilities so fast that I was left doing half a job for each task just to make it through the day with every task getting SOME time spent on it.

you get me?

And on the flip side, how much security there is in knowing just what you are supposed to do, how you are supposed to do it, or maybe even a liberty to do the job required how you deem best. Get in, get going, give it your all, close up, go home, feel good. Loved those jobs.

Lately I have been feeling like I have too many plates spinning. I know some are gonna crash. I know it's gonna be messy, but for the life of me I just keep running and spinning them from day to day never feeling like I have gotten enough done when I lay my head on my pillow.

And I am not just talkin' laundry here.

I'm talkin' every room in my house and heart.

This desire to check in with the one who gives me my marching orders began a month or so ago. And I wanted to simplify life again, some soul spring cleaning. I was on a Ladies weekend with two of the bestest sweetest godliest ladies you could ever set your heart on. They were talking, sharing their hearts and I was......... um, doing what I do best.


Crying. And I listened to them and yearned to know what God wanted ME to do. They knew what to do and were doing it, seeing God bless, coming through trials wonderfully. I wept to hear the Lord answer, give, bless, and just plain love them through one mess after another.

When my sobs could not be contained I quietly excused myself to the bathroom of the hotel we were staying at and cried out to my Lord and Master. In my heart the only thing I could ask Him was:

"Lord, what do you want me to do?"

And I was at His disposal. No agenda, no ready made plans on my part. Just one blank page with pen ready to fill up with His "To Do" list for my life.

And He answered.

Like He does.

When we seek Him with our whole heart.

And just like Him.

He is soft and kind.

He told me two words followed by a verse.

He said:

"Forgive yourself."

I know. I was shocked too. Forgive me? Not "Forgive so and so." "Forgive yourself." Friend the "goodness of God" does lead us to repentance. It leads us to the room with the cobwebs on it that hides our inner most secrets known only to us... and God. And in that one glorious moment there was nothing in that room that needed dusting or the garbage pile. God wanted me to forgive myself and lay down that burden of guilt that I carried all day every day everywhere I went. I brought it to birthday parties, family gatherings, shopping, everywhere. It.was.there. It humbled me, angered me, frustrated the day lights out of me, depressed me, and even made me anxious.

Guilt over silly things, bad things, horrible things, things that haven't even happened but I know they will things. The past was always present with me. And in that moment my mind flooded. I knew what He meant. I knew he had reached into my back pocket and exposed what I had hiding. And I was embarrassed. I said in my heart, "But I deserve to have to carry these. I should be required to bear this." He said:

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" Micah 6:8.

I was silenced.

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

It was as if you had Cinderella's cleaning list in your hand and he wiped every job off but three.

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

Pilgrim from Pilgrim's Progress had to have felt like I did dropping all that baggage off in the hotel restroom.

My spirit soared. The God of the Universe met with me amidst dirty towels and running make up in a hotel restroom. He came to cross things off my "To Do" list. Better yet, He gave me a new one. And it's "Post It" sized.

Life simplified just for me.

Fast forward a month or two.

See me huffing up yet another hill on a five mile bike trail. And yes I am in first gear and way out of shape.

Ok picture me briefly and far off. FAR OFF.

Good.

I am sweaty, frustrated at the gnats that swarm me because I am so slow, the kids who keep getting too close to my bike making me yell at them in the perfect "Old Lady stay off my grass" voice, and even at my dear sweet husband who is soo drippingly sweet he would even make Cub Scout Leaders look like criminals. Sheesh doesn't this man ever have a bad day??

I digress.

I finally got off and walked. Yes I did. I walked up the dumb hill. I waved my hand to half swat the gnats and half tell the crew a mile or so ahead (ok slight exaggeration) that I was NOT in cardiac arrest and that they could go along their merry way without me for a while. (A loooong while) They refused.

I INSISTED.

They biked ahead. (GRIN)

So it was me and a beautiful woody opening with trees as high as I could see. It was just gorgeous and it was all mine for the taking in this moment of relief from frustration. Frustration with life. Life is hard folks. Add marriage and kids and more kids and more kids and..... well you get the idea. Add low income, high stress and get a sour spirit. Beautiful bike hike? Blah. Kids all smiles in shiny helmets and sweet spirits. Bleck.

So with up-turned nose I stood and He was there.

THE He.

And he grabbed my list of complaints out of my back pocket. He grabbed my list of things that MUST be accomplished that day, you know while we were wasting time on this bike hike.....

I raised my arms to the sky, forgot about the gnats and said out loud, "Lord, I am trying. Please help me. Just help me."

And he crossed my list out and wrote three things. Three things that are more important than any others. The only things that must be accomplished that day:

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

I grinned a grin that showed I had been reproved. Again with Micah Lord? Ok.

OK.

And I shed some more tears alone in the woods. He bottled them up and gave me strength, renewed strength because I had waited upon Him. (Isaiah 40:31) And with that new strength I got on and biked ahead.

And when I wanted to pick a whole bundle of wildflowers from the Park.....the Lord said:

Do justly.

And I did what was right and snagged a small token to smell as I biked.

When one child could not find their shoes for the tenth time and waded in way past what they should have and came to me in a wet, muddy mess, God said:

Love mercy.

So I found their shoes and sat them on my lap.

And when Joel was obviously building a fire the WRONG way, the Lord of mercy reminded me to:

Walk humbly with thy God.

So I helped with a smile and without putting my two cents in.


Tomorrow is a new day. I am reminded that Proverbs 16:9 says, "A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps." I see where I need to be, but God knows where He needs me to go and patiently gets me there.

Goodnight friends!

In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul. Psalm 94:19

Hello all.

Yes, you four are worth me staying up wee hours of the morning to catch you up to speed with the Royalty clan.

A lot of soul searching goin' on lately. I think we ladies have times that are like that. It is almost like we are stuck in this cloud of thoughts that we must work through to proceed with the daily grind as we know it.

This is not a bad thing.

This is just a long thing.

I heard someone say once that all of your life's experiences change you as the years roll along.

I scrunched up my face, tilted my head to the side and wondered if I really had changed so much.

I didn't think I had.

Not with the birth of my children,

Not with the financial set backs,

Not with the hospital stays with my children,

Not with the third world country excursion,

Not with anything.

I could still laugh about the same old things,

Still liked the same favorite colors,

Still wanted to be the person I grew up loving and imitating their handwriting,

Still secretly loved poetry much more than I would ever confess,

Still loved making things with my hands,

Still wondered if I could ever measure up in just about every area you can imagine.


And lately the Lord has been prodding, pushing me to get out of where I have been, and made me look at where I have come from, and where He alone is taking me on this wonderfully sweet journey of life.

Months ago now in a phone conversation someone I love said something that sent me a crushing blow.

To understand the weight of this you must know that growing up I took a particular interest, love to be more direct, in the arts.

I was a Freshman in Senior plays, interviewed for the newspaper, on traveling drama teams, had the red carpet rolled out for me. I had dreams of acting in college until I realized it would go no further only to then transfer my energies to writing. Of course I knew I would have to take some low paying journalism job until my big break, but I was sure someone would find my banter fresh and new and use me for something great, somewhere.

In eighth grade someone else was waiting for me, with even greater dreams for me. He rescued me from a party that would have robbed me of my testimony and scared me for the rest of my life. He then prompted me to chose the road less traveled and gave me a new set of clothes for the journey.

I changed.

Teachers pleaded, scholarships looked promising, parents questioned, friends forsook me.

But I had changed.

I folded up my jeans, closed my yearbook and stepped out in faith with my new partner.

So much has happened since then.

This call, the words......... "could have done so much." Stung.

To be honest, the tears still come just typing it. I was mad, I was hurt, I questioned myself, my life, my decisions.

It has taken me months to heal from that wound that smarted. Oh how it smarted.

A horrid feeling of waste just swept over me for days. For months.

In a few weeks time I had been able to witness two souls heading to their true home. A course had been charted for them and they were nearing the finish line.

I used this time, watching them, holding their hand, listening to them breathe, to search my own soul. And I found such worth in my life. Not to many, but to the one who matters most.

I cannot tell you what healing this has been for me. I think I am still in the process of fully understanding what it means to be in the will of God.

To have purpose.

I think until I was challenged, I hadn't seen this life with my spiritual eyes for longer than I care to confess to.

I spoke to God, I poured my heart out to Him. I gave Him my plans, my dreams all over again. I wept going through each obstacle that life had thrown at me again in my memory. Each joy, each small victory, each defeat. All of these had drawn me to Him, a splash of color on this beautiful picture that God was creating of my life.

And after a long, long time I finally saw myself as beautiful.

This Mother's Day was the hardest for me I think. Navigating Motherhood is not easy. I have made such mistakes along the way,

but I am trying.

Joel used my life in his sermon Sunday morning. He, not knowing that my heart was searching through the past, brought up the very things I was pondering, and unrolled the canvas of my days, and the way I had chosen to go while even a teen.

My mouth just fell open. Here he was, vindicating me, almost just for my hearing alone.

I chose right.

I chose right.

My life is worthwhile, and friend so is yours.

Friend, rest in the wonderful thought that there is no "could have" with God.

at the end of my days it will not matter what this vapor has shown the world.

I have chosen the better part.

No, scratch that.

He has chosen me.

After all, what greater honor is there than that?

Just a thought.