Inside, Outside, Upside down!

It's been a while since I posted "just because" pics,...

The boys love daddy's new toy, but not as much as daddy does! He is spoiled rotten...

Yet another toy...

 

....but this one came with a box!

(The red thing blasts sand, removing rust from metal (car parts at this house) making them just like new again!)

I have been looking into some "real" curriculum for the next school year. Being sick so often has made it harder for me to teach as "free spirited" as we have in the past. 

 But last week we spent an afternoon that reminded me why I love my "learn as we go" ways.

The steps from the back porch lead to a world of wonder!

Remember the box? 

School room?

Secret hide-out?

 Children of the world "memory"

Table top?

 Blokus!

It seems that, if you are willing to look, school is all around.
I am so glad we got to have a fun reminder of that.
We will still have to order a math book, and spelling, and... well, we'll just see.
But I am still me, and our school remains the same.
Thank you Lord, for the small things.
Hold on to them my friends!

Blessings,

A battered tent

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile, we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling... for while we are in this tent we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed, but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life." 2 Cor. 5:1-5

 Isn't that a beautiful promise?

 There is another verse that goes hand and hand with it -one that is slightly harder to celebrate with joy. Above is a promise. Even though it gets hard, we have heaven to look forward to, our heavenly dwelling.

 But Proverbs 16:9 says "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps."

 That means we have to give up our own self-centered plans.

 We even have to give up our plans if they are not self-centered.

 Even if our plans are "godly", at least as far as we can see.

 I have a friend that I have known since college who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. She quit blogging for awhile, not because she was in too much pain, or too overwhelmed, or didn't have time... although any of those reasons are allowed. She quit, I think in part, because she was afraid that sometime she would have fear. Sometimes she wouldn't be able to be the perfect example of trust. And people would think that she wasn't a good enough Christian.

 I am not really that close to her, and I am certainly not inside her head, but that was what I understood when she finally started writing again. And I had to comment.

 After 20 years as a diabetic, and 3 years, with the first 18 months undiagnosed, of localized partial seizures - well, plenty of people have come over to pray over me. Some I have invited. Some have pushed their way into my personal space quite forcefully. Always, always, I have put my trust in my Savior. It was easier in the early years to expect something, to expect healing.

 Now I simply wait for a moment of peace. A reminder that He is the creator of not only this earthly "tent", but has a heavenly tent waiting for me.

 But I must say that there are moments when I feel accused of not having enough faith. When I remain "sick", even though someone has prayed over me - well, it must be because I don't believe enough. I guess that gives you an idea of the kind of charismatic churches I have spent parts of my life in.

 But still, my life, my physical life, remains in HIS hands. I believe Prov. 16:9

 However, I had a really, really terrible week, medically, this past week. On Tuesday my diabetes was atrocious, and to top it off, I ran out of insulin. Totally bad planning on my part, but when your blood sugar is already 400 your emotional stability is too far gone to figure out how to solve the problem. In the middle of me sitting in the kitchen literally sobbing, Zion asked what was wrong. I was trying to tell him that Mommy was just a little sicker then usual.

 And Canaan says, "Mommy, have you tried praying about it?"

 And my heart broke. Because I wanted to scream "OF COURSE I HAVE. 8000 times. And the answer is always no."

 But I didn't scream. I even stopped crying quite as hard. And I asked him if he could please pray. I don't ever want to crush his faith, in one of my stupid moments of body failure. Because that is what it was. Body failure. When my blood sugar was 400 my ability to have faith was easily defeated by the evil one. But a simple reminder by my son, and his absolute faith, was all it took to remind me who was in charge.

 The rest of the week was still tough, physically.

 But I was able to remember that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil. 4:13

 And I have so much more in my life then this failing "tent"! School with my children was fantastic. We then squeezed in wonderful play time with kids down the hill, and friends from church. (It is spring break for the public school kids here) Even with my crazy medical appts I still made some delicious dinners, if I do say so myself, and right this minute there is bread in the machine that is making my tummy growl.

 Each of us have a clean slate every morning, ready to start with praise. To ask for strength, whatever comes. Forgiven, and with our Savior at our side every step of the way.

 Third Day's "Mountain of God" has been my theme song the last few days. I will leave it playing on here for the next week or so. Please, stop and listen and be lifted up.

 I'll close with one of my favorite verses. "Do not grieve, for the JOY of the Lord is your strength." Nehemiah 8:10b

 Blessings,  

Wedding!!!

I have been "gone" for a very long while now. Part of it will be talked about later. But, a very large, and important, part of it was this...

My baby sister got married. 

 There was lots of prep work. Obviously. And our family doesn't believe in letting other people be in charge of our events. We LOVE our friends and family who help. Couldn't survive without them. But complete and total control and dominion - well, that stays in "our" hands. (and by our I mostly mean Emilee) I simply do what I am told!

 First things first - I must admit that I have not been so sure about this Josh guy. He did the entire dating process while we were in MO. They have had their engagement while we have lived here in NC. And I had missed the entire thing. Before we went home for the wedding I had spent less the two weeks with him, combined.
 So I must admit, much to my shame, that I was grumpy during the week of the wedding. There were other, outside forces contributing - once again, we'll talk about those later - but the fact that I was giving away my baby sister to a practical stranger was a little hard for me.

 But at the rehearsal dinner he sang her a song.

That he had written.

It made her cry. 

See the way he looks at her!

 And it was suddenly much easier for me to be ready for the next day.

 The professional pics will be around eventually, and I am sure they will be all over my house, but for now, I am getting quite a kick out of the ones from my camera "back stage" and from Kevin's all along the way.

 Boots were a huge part of the theme. 

 This is my favorite picture of my boys with their Aunt Mary.

The two big sisters had been running around like crazy...

 We needed a little help getting ready in a hurry! 

The "boys" were banished to the back porch while they waited.

We were taking a sister's pic - of course. Then, a bee attacked. I love pictures like this. Action shots. I am sure the actual posed picture will be lovely. But the silly, laughing, funny face picture is the one that always makes me the happiest. 

 6 little ones, 8 (of the 9) bridesmaids and a beautiful bride, all on our way to the wedding. 

Bridesmaid number nine, Emilee, was already at the location. 

She wasn't about to let anyone else run the last minute details!

 I don't have a picture of my boys coming down the aisle, but here they are at the rehearsal. Zion carried the Bible. It took him a while (and some tears during rehearsal) to be ready for the responsibility, but he followed through. Canaan carried the sign, and enjoyed it immensely. Andy says we might have a used car salesman on our hands. He certainly got a kick out of advertising! (and looked adorable too!)

The "old people" in the wedding were responsible for the babies. They were adorable... but not very interested in being involved. I think I heard about 1/3 of the ceremony! Still, I got the important stuff. They promised to love each other always. ("in sickness and in health" made me tear up, considering how fabulous Andy has been, always). We all took communion together, as the body of Christ. 

My precious Daddy covered his eyes and let them kiss, and then they danced down the aisle as husband and wife. 

Then the party started. 

Andy was the DJ.

My children THINK they can dance. 

I got to visit with people I haven't seen since the last family wedding. 

I'd say a good time was had by all. 

But that's enough for now!

Blessings,

Romans 8:28

A little over a week ago we had a really bad day. Or, at least our poor car had a really bad day. We, as a family, really don't have that much to complain about.

 Not having the car you owned, with the buttons memorized, and the comfy seats you loved the feel of - well it's no fun. Both my boys point out every red Tahoe they see, in sorrow and mourning. But...

 Every week for school we have a bible verse of the week. They are slightly random. I don't know that I have any rhyme or reason as to how I find them, God just points them out. On the Monday after our accident God quite clearly led me to Romans 8:28.

 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purposes."

 How very perfect is that?

 I love how He works!

 I was talking to Canaan about good things, and bad things, and how they often work together. Sometimes we get to see the results. Sometimes we don't.

 But there is a beautiful story I love to tell of a wreck that led to good.

 When Andy was 19 he put on his good clothes and headed down to the Coast Guard recruiting office - planning to sign up for a stint protecting our shores and rescuing beautiful maidens from drowning.

 There had been lots of rain that week. Slightly appropriate for signing up for a coast guard job, isn't it? Unfortunately, on back country roads where his parent's live, it isn't always conducive for driving. He drove through what he thought was going to be a puddle. Unfortunately, the road is slanted there, and the side he was on - well, the puddle was closer in size to a pond.

 That car wasn't going anywhere. (I don't remember exactly, but I am pretty sure he flooded the engine, and I don't think that car ever drove again.)

 He waded through the "pond", got picked up by some old guys who knew his grandfather (and laughed at him) then took him home.

 The car was towed away.

 Andy's parent's had another chance to talk him into giving college another chance.

 So, instead of the coast guard, he came to Shorter, met me, and the rest is history.

 Yes, he had to get laughed at by old men.

 Sure, he had to drive his Mom's old Grand Caravan to college.

 But he got me, and two amazing boys.

 He got the AF, then the Army, in career fields he has enjoyed.

 "In all things God work for the good".

 I am pretty sure Andy couldn't see the good when his car was sitting in the middle of a puddle the size of a pond.

 But I sure am grateful for it now.

  I completely have faith that, although we may never see nor hear about it, every event, every day, every single moment works for good. One way or another.

 Now isn't that something to be grateful for!

Blessings, 

Shamrockin'

 I am, for a short time, NOT Andy's "old lady". For a little over two months every spring we are the same age.
 On Saturday my Leprechaun had his birthday and officially joined me at (gasp) 32.

 During our ten years of marriage he has been gone, for one reason or another, 6 times on his birthday. There was a rumor of him leaving on his birthday this year (just for a training exercise)... so last Sunday we went out to eat - sort of an early birthday. You remember how that day ended.

 Thankfully, he was HOME for his actual birthday this year. So we partied.

 Shamrock trays that have been around since Andy's childhood. Thanks Ellen! 

 A very green room. 

The boys had a blast, hanging streamers and shamrocks throughout the entire house. 

 We had a multitude of muscle men, ready to show off - 

See?

That Shamrock hat has been around since Andy was in highschool.

 A glow in the dark, laser shamrock...

 fascinating...

I think I like it!!!

Yep!

Since I have been vehicle-less this week, my ability to search for tiramisu has been thwarted. When I mentioned my frustration about that early Sat morning "Oscar the Grouch" immediately volunteered to make a run in search of Andy's favorite dessert. 

Unfortunately, there wasn't one to be found in a 20 mile radius. So at the last ditch stop at Walmart, the three year old got to point to what she thought "looked the most like Tiramisu". It seems that Chocolate Brownie Icecream cake won. 

 No complaints here! 

Yum, Yum! 

I even got a picture of the birthday boy, almost smiling for the camera. 

I call that a successful day! 

Blessings, 

Sounds

 I think that at some point in time every mother has had a moment when hearing their children crying is the most beautiful sound in the world. Because it means that they are breathing.

 And at that exact moment their breathing is the most important priority in your life.

 When they are born, and they take that first gulp of air. When they fall from the top of the playground, knocking themselves silly. When they wreck their bike and you can't even see where they landed.

 Broken bones, blood gushing, those thoughts start creeping in second later.

 But breathing is a first priority, and when it proves itself immediately, you can breath also.

 So crying is the most beautiful sound in the world.

 I had a moment like that this weekend.

 Truly, at first you can't hear anything. Then the first little peep of fear that only a six year old can produce pops up from the backseat, answered immediately by his big brother, and it's just enough to bring you back to reality. To let you know that they were alive.

 Then sounds start coming from every direction.

 Your very angry (at himself) husband telling them to get out (just in case) means he is okay - and as you hear their doors open and their feet follow, you know that they can move.

 That's when you realize - your door won't open, and you're not sure you could get out even if it did. The airbags make that terrible squealing sound as they finish deflating. And the miscellaneous parts of the car that use to make it move, now growl. Steam rises all around with an almost beautiful sound of it's own.

 Then metal scrapes and complains as that 6'1" tower of muscle who loves you makes it obey, refusing to leave you in your seat, or make you climb over another seat with a busted knee. The door opens enough to slip through, the knee works enough to get to the grass and (of course) you sit down directly in an ant pile.

 And the sounds continue. Firetruck. Police car. Ambulance.

 Slightly amusing really. After the ant hill fiasco, I limped my way over to the back of the Tahoe and managed to sit on the back of it. When the first responders, the Firemen, got there they had an icepack for my knee. But I was bleeding from my thumb. Just a tiny little cut, but because it had been bleeding for several minutes it had pooled up. My children were very concerned. The firemen didn't actually have bandaids. Something to pack in a gaping wound? Got you covered. A tiny cut on your thumb... not so much. However, I am a mom. With a fully stocked (although fully wrecked) SUV. So I looked around and luckily my emergency bag hadn't gotten thrown too far. Alcohol wipe? check. Bandaid? check. Neosporin cream? check. Help from a friendly fire man to wrap my thumb in a self provided bandaid? check. Children who were very much calmed now that mommy wasn't bleeding any more? Check check!

 Care to see some pictures?

 The tow truck, loading it up. 

 I think this is the one looks the worst.

 Driver's side wasn't so bad..

And truthfully, the back has hardly any damage at all. 

 My babies were protected.

Buckled up, in the booster seats - even at 8 and 6. 

 A small pile of left-over pieces.

 And that- that is what we hit. (coming from the opposite direction, obviously, since the passenger side is what hit)
 20 mph. Not texting. Not changing the radio station. His hand simply slipped on the wheel at the exact wrong minute. Not a chance to brake, nothing. Cement doesn't give...

 We had cleaned the Tahoe out fairly that afternoon, waiting through all the details of firetruck, ambulance, police report and towtruck. Actually, let me say that properly. Andy and the boys, and then later when she came to rescue us, my friend Kirsten, cleaned most of it out Sunday afternoon. Books, DVD player, umbrellas, picnic blanket, emergency first-aid kit, toothbrush, sewing kit, safety pins, diabetic supplies, etc etc. I simply sat on the back, held an icepack on my knee and said things like "did you remember to check the pocket in the side of the door" and "did you get all of the quarters from the console". Luckily, I carry grocery bags with me too, or we would have had some trouble containing it all!
 On Monday after I talked to the insurance agent they told me I needed to make sure I got everything out of it, because they would be towing it to their storage facility several hours away. So Kirsten, once again, saved the day and drove me out to the temporary storage place.
 And I got my first real look at it.

 I simply stood there and sobbed, for just a second. 

 I'm not exactly sure why. 

 Thankfullness that we are all okay? Sorrow for my car, which I have loved? Purely and simply overwhelmed? 

 Earlier I had heard the sound of my children crying. My husband yelling. The metal creaking, airbags squealing, steam whistling, sirens wailing. Voices all around asking questions - and my voice answering them. 

 God and I had even had a beautiful moment of comfort, where I got to hear His voice reminding me of His care. 

But I hadn't really seen it yet. 

Now with sight, the sound that was needed that moment was very quiet. Without interruption. And with a touch of finality. 

I removed the license plate, military tags and even managed to scrape off the trinity sticker Andy made for my car. It is not re-usable, but I couldn't stand the thought of it rotting in a junk-yard. 

And we are about 98% sure that the Tahoe is not coming back. Sigh.

Time for something with better gas milage?

X-rays show no broken bones in the knee. Lots of swelling means just keep ice on it and enjoy the black and blue. So we rejoice in our many many blessings. 

Rejoice in yours too!