what are you looking at?

We are trained to look to the future, never look back, set our sights on what is to come, live in the moment, move on to the future, and forget the past. I guess this is good advise when the past is holding you back, or preventing you from creating a future. I wonder though, if we just looked back differently, if we might see things a bit more clearly.

I once knew a man who lived so much in the past, that he found it hard to live in the present. The past hurt and humiliation of a particular sport coach's words and actions haunted him so, that 20 years later he was still dwelling on the pain that individual had inflicted way back in high school. The past was his present, because he replayed those old scripts in his head continually, and they affected not only his career, and public life, but his relationships and private life as well. Looking back was not only painful for him, but it was devastating for both his present, and his future. But I wonder, if he had looked back at something different, perhaps that would not have been the case.

I have a friend that is facing a possible move. The thought of a move is not pleasant to her, and she wishes to stay where she is. This same friend has confided in me that she is not happy where she is, nor are her children and husband. They have not built satisfying relationships in their present town, and they find people basically unfriendly there. Her husband finds his current job stressful, and he longs for a more relaxed way of life. Her children are very social, and long for more friends to connect with on a greater level. So, why I questioned is she not up for a change? It is the unknown, she replied, the having to relearn and readjust, and re acclimate herself to new surroundings as she had to do just two years earlier when she moved to her present location.

In both of these people's lives looking back is not the problem, it is at what they are looking.

If we look back on what the Lord has done in our past, how he has brought us through, protected us, made the path straight, guided us, or just poured out His mercy and grace on us, then how can we not face both our present and our future with anticipation and hope.

Life is stinking hard for so many. Hardships abound, and lest we think we are the only ones who struggle, we need only look as far as the next individual to discover we are not alone.

That man I knew, had so much to live for in his present, and he could have looked back at the loving family he came from, the cancer that the Lord healed when he was just a child, the gift of children he was blessed with, the many people who looked up to him and counted on him, the place of leadership for which the Lord had equipped him, and all the blessings that had brought him to a role of prestige and honor. He didn't look back at what God had given, and from what he had been delivered. He couldn't see what the Lord did in his life in spite of the cruel words of that coach so long ago, because he wasn't looking.

My friend looking towards a move, isn't looking back at where the Lord met her in the last move, or how He always supplied her needs. She can't see how He revealed Himself over and over to herself and her family, because she only sees the difficulty and inconvenience that she experienced. She doesn't look at what the Lord taught her in the uncomfortableness of a new place or what were the many blessings she and her family were to those around them. She can't see the benefit of the pain she already experienced, and that loss of sight, is stealing he ability to see the possibilities in what the Lord might do in and through her at the new location, not to mention that the chances that she will like her new surroundings better are very good!

This can be the case in so many circumstances. As we face the uncertainty of this earth existence, job change, a bad diagnosis, pain,  loss of income, disappointment, or just the everyday inconveniences that life throws our way. Looking back can be a wonderful thing, when we can see what the Lord has done for and through us in years past.

Looking back can give us not only hope for the future, but the courage to face the present.

Heavens anesthesia

I felt it down low, almost in a place far below my soul. That slow brewing emotion that I keep hidden almost always, not because I am ashamed, or fearful of feeling the gnawing, but because life must go on, children eat and play, friends expect, strangers presume, and weeping just isn't living. Not always, only in quiet alone moments when vanilla scent brings up flashes of remembrance of his Pediasure diet, or the high squeal of a far away drill on wood conjures images of his uncontrollable giggles, or just a heaviness of soul longing weighs on my chest and I escape to an alone place...my car, the shower, the basement, anywhere to feel, and wish, and regret, and weep, because a mothers heart misses a sons sound and presence. But this time, this time at bible study, with no one even suspecting the battle I was fighting in that back row booth, I could not stab it dead, freeze it quiet, it was brewing, slowly coming to the surface. I could almost hear it's groan as it passed the diaphragm gate, and entered my throat. I warred with the burning, defying it to surface, begging it to wait until we were alone, and the flood gates opened, and my sitting was now walking, then running, to the safety of the restroom, and then the tears were pouring, and the sound was escaping and I wept, and won only the battle to not scream that guttural death moan my body hoped to let out. My control was defeated, the weeping won, and I too, as the release was cathartic and cleansing, and mascara trails marked the way to peace. 


Weeping is heaven's anesthesia.

I know he speaks theology with Spurgeon now before audiences of angels, and dances with David and grandma Dee before the throne. He and John Calvin laugh together at the audacity of earthlings claiming to understand the intricacies of predestination and foreknowledge. The 12 year old earth suit he wore here no longer restrains his ability to think or move or see. He is perfect. He is not present in that filthy grave, with the sweet soft body that contained him once, and It is not for him that I weep. It is so much more than grief that fuels that soul groan, so much more than pain or sorrow, although those too are very present. It is the knowing that God's plan was best, that He is sufficient, that His ways are not my ways, and being so very grateful. It is in the making and receiving of tender memories that my savior so lovingly weaved in and around my boy's life, that grow me to Him, grafted to Him more purely, all because of the gift of one small broken male child with soft warm hands and deep brown eyes. It is because this is not my home, this beautiful place full of flowering dogwoods and azure blue skies, this is not it, and someday I will be with him, and.......with Him. And there, there will be no more pain, and no more tears.

No more tears? I ask Him in disbelief, but I NEED to weep. I like to cry, sometimes it helps Lord, No more tears? And in His most gentle of voices, calming and assuring He reminds me that no more tears, holds firm hands with no more pain. No more feeling inadequate, no more voices of you're not good enough, thin enough, smart enough, anything enough. No more striving for perfection with your home, your meals, your clothing, your children. No more fear, fear of the future, of loosing someone else, of being alone. No more being overwhelmed, no more guilt, no more hurt, no more regret, no more harsh words, no more abuse, no more hurt feelings, no more anger, no more unmet expectations, no more loss, no more sorrow. 

No more tears, He will wipe them all away. 

We won't NEED them any more.


He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Rev. 21:4

Proverbs 31 ministries seeks to connect women, and bring them closer to the heart of the sovereign God of the Universe who will one day wipe every tear. A scholarship is being offered to one brave sweet soul, who dares to peek through the veil of fear, and tip her pinkie toe into the iciest of rivers, in hopes of a cleansing bath in the warm pool of She Speaks acceptance. You could be that brave soul.

unexpected sunshine

Long time no post

So sometimes life moves too slowly, and at other times much to quickly. The last few months have been the later, and while I apologize for my absence, as a friend recently reminded me, life takes precedence!

Our family reached the milestone of one year since we moved to Georgia in August. Our first 11 months here were quite slow by design. Still mourning the loss of Crockett, with a desire to remain in the shadows of sorts, searching for a church in which to minister, falling into a new family rhythm complete with new members, and finding a new place, in our new place.

Finding a church family in July certainly ramped up our social lives, and ministry as well as friendships have been keeping us busy. God has led us to a medium sized church full of sweet brothers and sisters in Christ that have welcomed and loved our family in a very special way.

One week shortly after we joined this church our passionate pastor requested from the pulpit that members of the congregation attend the Sunday night ministry "Celebrate recovery". It is a 12 step program for those with addiction problems, or the loved ones of the same. Michael and I both felt led to see what it was all about in spite of the fact that neither of us has ever struggled with addiction. (other then chocolate of course for which no amount of steps will ever pull me out). That night we were faced with the reality of what we might call the down and out. We were the only visitors, and we were quickly informed by the then directors, that we could not serve if we had never been addicts, and could personally attest to the power of the12 steps. Our Pastor had said that the directors at that time wished to retire from the program, and without more people, the ministry would have to be discontinued.

Within a week our Pastor had a new vision for the program, and a new name, and some new willing helpers in Michael and I. We have been serving these precious souls for about 6 weeks now. Each week there are new faces, and each week we pray over the new and grieve for those who did not return. As the only female volunteer, I meet and attempt to minister to all the ladies that come. Most are from our local emergency shelter, where their physical needs are met for a limited time. Not all are addicted, but most are homeless, and loosing hope. It has been my privilege to pray with prostitutes, single mommas, and former heroine addicts. The first night I even met a man that had served time for killing another man, and asked that we pray for him to control his temper. We did, and I also prayed silently that nothing I said or did would tick him off...lol. God has used each of these individuals to teach me, and soften me in ways that I can not express here. The words "there but by the grace of God goes I" reverberate in my head often as I lament their poor choices, and confused ways. I know I did nothing to deserve the privileged life I find myself in, nothing to deserve loving parents that guided and cared for me, nothing to deserve a husband that loves me and provides for me. It is not I, but only the Grace of an almighty God that brings me to where I am. I struggle with the desire to bring each of them home with me, to shower and change, and sleep in soft clean sheets, safe from whatever has damaged and hurt them so. I struggle, because deep within I know that most of them do not want my help, or my Jesus for that matter. They eat a hot meal, and return again to the same lifestyle, some I suppose because it is all they have ever known, and others because to them it is safe. There are those few that return again and again though, and they are as hungry for the nourishment of the word as they are for the meal we serve. It is for those few that we are there, and for the spouses and children, and mommas and daddies, that they may one day be reunited with. Some of the gentlemen come to Sunday morning services as well. They often dress inappropriately, with smelly tattered jeans and shirts, or shiny patten shoes and pimpish gold chains. They often say "Hi, Mrs, Amy" and I grin and wonder what the proper Georgian church ladies think of me speaking with the likes of them. I like to let them wonder. I am no longer an outsider looking in, but am now on the front lines of sorts. And as I learn their stories, and feel their pain, and pray their requests beside them, hand in hand, I experience the joy that comes with loving the way Jesus loved, on His terms, in some small way attempting to be His hands and feet, and it hurts really good.

If you think to pray for us in this small ministry we would be very grateful.

intolerant commenter part 2

Be sure and read Intolerant blogger part 1, or this may not make much sense.

Ms. Intolerant stated that Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin were both Deists, and that there were also a few atheists thrown in.

We could argue about whether Thomas Jefferson was a Deist, or a Theist, but it wouldn't really be relevant in the discussion, as I think Ms. Intolerant was speaking in reference to the Constitution which Thomas Jefferson did not sign. As far as Ben Franklin is concerned, I agree that he was most likely not a Christian because he stated at one time that he didn't believe in Jesus' Deity, I hope his mind was changed before his death, however, I do know that just a few weeks before he died he wrote these words concerning Jesus.

"I think his system of morals and his religion, as he left them to us, the best the world ever saw or is likely to see:"

One does not have to believe in Jesus, or his deity, to believe and understand that his principles, Christian principles, are good, and make a better world when they are followed!

Of the fifty-five men who met to write our constitution, fifty of them were unquestionably Christians, and possibly fifty-two. Of the fifty six who signed, definitely fifty, maybe fifty-two were Christians.

None of that really matters however in a discussion of our country, and if it was founded on Christian principles, because the ground work was laid far before that.

The Mayflower Compact was written by the first settlers of Plymouth as they sat in the Captains quarters on their ship before stepping on to the "New World". That document affirmed their intention when it states "for the glory of God, and the advancement of the Christian faith". You see, those pilgrims as they were named by Governor William Bradford, who derived the name right out of I Peter 2:11, were a single congregation, secretly formed in 1606 in Nottinghamshire England. They began their underground congregation by making a covenant, which became the Scrooby Covenant, pledging to "obey God, and His law, and to walk together in Christian fellowship". Because religious freedom was nonexistent in England, they left for the Netherlands. There they faced different hardships, and eventually planned to go to America. The first group arrived in America in 1620. The very group that penned the Mayflower compact.

The significance of the Mayflower Compact to our Constitution is ginormous, isn't that obvious?

After that initial group of pilgrims came, several more waves of Pilgrims came, then in 1628 the Puritans arrived. By 1700 the distinction of the two groups had been dissolved. Over the next 150 years, these dedicated Christians in New England, wrote up about 100 different compacts, covenants, and constitutions. They all reflect a Christian motivation.

No one can argue with the Character of these early settlers, and the hardships they endured, all in the name of religious freedom and the cause of Christ. However, instead of being grateful for the contributions that they made to our nation, and the wonderful Christian Heritage they left behind, the modern secularist holds them up merely as cartoon images to be dismissed and forgotten.

I could go on and on to prove that our country was founded on Christian principles. Why is that so hard for some to accept? It's just a fact, and just because you don't want to believe it, doesn't make it false. History is History, and nothing can change it. Our secular history books have more words dedicated to Marilyn Monroe then to the Puritans and the huge impact they had on our American way of life, because they don't want you to give God the glory for what he has done through those puritans.

So, Ms. Semantics, you can go on and pray to God when you need him for healing, but not acknowledge the work he has already done to make your life worth living in the first place. And, Ms. Intolerant, you can cheer on your favorite soccor team, all the while forgetting the price that was paid for your enjoyment. Ms. Oblivious, you can fail to stand for what is right, and let intolerant blogging commenters bully you into not using words like blessed, even when you know we all are, and Mr. Rude, you can hide behind silly immature tactics like making fun of people who know more about something that is important to them, and aren't afraid to speak it, all the while failing to speak yourself. Irrelevant, I guess you can keep spouting about the religious persecution you have never experienced, and the Indians that apparently you would have lived at peace with, while forgetting that free speech is just one more thing our Christian forefathers gifted us with. But none of you can change history, no matter how much you want to! This great United States of America was founded on Christian principles, and If I was the last person to believe it, and I can assure you I am not, it wouldn't make it any less true!

If you have made it to the end of this very long post, I commend you, and while I welcome your comments, please don't write about all the mistakes our forefathers made. I am well aware that the Indians were pushed out of this land unjustly, and that many of those Godly men I speak of also bought and sold slaves, among other atrocities. They made horrible, unimaginable mistakes, they were sinners in need of a Savior just like you and I, but that does not change the reality of our history!

Intolerant commenter part 1

I recently commented on a blog, and got a bit beaten up for it.

I thought is was a harmless comment really, just stating the obvious I thought. I was actually addressing another commenter, lets call her Ms. Intolerant, just because I don't know her real name. You see, Ms. Intolerant had addressed a different commenter, lets call her Ms. Oblivious. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

The blogger I was reading is a fantastic writer. I have only read a few of her posts, but she is very funny, as well as insightful, and can make the most mundane of events interesting. This particular post was about a dream she had, and a phone call she was anticipating, and an interesting study she had come across. The study was about if you condensed all the people in the world down to 100, how many would be American,male, or wealthy, or educated....etc. You know the kind if study I'm talking about don't ya?? These studies are always enlightening, because what we always learn from them is, that as Americans we are extremely blessed.

Well Ms. Oblivious commented just that, something about being blessed as a nation, which would make her not oblivious at all, but rather right on the money, but like me, I don't think she saw the tornado of anger that would ensue. Ms. Intolerant took offense to her using that word, blessed. She chided Ms. Oblivious, and explained that the word "blessed" has a certain connotation to it, implying perhaps that God somehow loves us here in the US more then he loves other countries. She didn't want people to use the word blessed. She said she didn't think God noticed map boundaries.

Well, like I said I too commented.

I complimented the blogger, thanked her for her post, and then I stated,

hold on to your hats here,

this is really controversial,

I almost feel like I should whisper it, since it created such a fire storm last time.

I stated that "America is blessed, not because God loves us more, but because our country was founded on Christian principles. It is a cause and effect thing."

oooooooo doggies, another commenter Ms. Semantics I'll call her, did not like that, not one bit, and she let that be known! She argued that our country was founded on freedom, not Christianity! other commenters also joined the throng. Mr. Rude resorted to making fun of my name "a snip of goodness?" he wrote, not sure what that meant, but it was as if because he didn't like my name, then my comment was invalid. Then of course in these discussions there is always a Ms. Irrelevant, I didn't really get her point, first I was like huh? then I was like what? then I was kinda bored, something about Indians?

Because Ms oblivious used the word blessed, and I used the word Christianity, we were treated....well, lets just say, less then kindly.

let it be known, that the names have been changed to protect the unenlightened.

part 2 to come soon

climb to the top

I am constantly amazed at the willingness in my kids to try new things. I love that they all thrive in new surroundings, that they do not cower in the face of the unknown, or back away from obstacles or challenges. I am proud of how they so easily acclimate to new places, and have the ability to effortlessly make friends.

They have all faced huge upsets in their lives in the last few years, moving, disappointment, loss of friends, physical limitations, gossip, the realisation that people are not always who they claim to be, the death of a sibling, and the grief of their parents, the hard realities of life.

The four children I have left on earth, hold their heads high, they try, they battle, they persevere, they keep on keeping on,

.....and my one boy in Heaven, well, I am convinced that he is now able to climb mountains as well.

linking up with

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2010/06/29/blooming-on-a-tuesday/

PLEASED

They planted,

they prayed,

they pick,

they pluck,

they prepare,

they partake,

they praise

They think this gardening thing is fun

They marvel at the miracles of their provider

from just a few tiny seeds.

and God is pleased

Have you ever been re-gifted?

Have you ever been regifted, that is, have you ever received a gift that you knew was a rejected gift that the reciever, who was now the giver, was regifting to you?

I think I have, on a number of occasions, I guess you can never be sure.

Does it bug you? It kinda does me, but I guess it shouldn't.

One time I received a dock with speakers for an ipod as a Christmas gift. Only thing is, a didn't have an ipod at the time! Don't you think that is kind of a random gift, if you don't just know the person has an ipod, and needs a dock for it???

I guess I should just be grateful, shouldn't I?

I think the only time you should regift, is if you get a gift and immediately think of someone in your life that would love it. Then, I think it should only be regifted for a 'just for fun' kinda thing, not for a birthday or Christmas kinda thing. Or perhaps, it is okay to regift when it's for someone you don't know, like those obligatory office parties where you draw a name out of a hat. But I don't really like those obligatory gift thingys either, what is the purpose of that anyway?

Do I have to many gift giving hang ups??? probably!

Isn't the point of gift giving, that you are picking and purchasing, or making, something especially for that unique individual?? Maybe that isn't the point for everyone.

Okay, I think I'm rethinking this whole regifting thing.

Maybe I am just to rigid.

Speaking of regifting, I was recently regifted, and it didn't bother me one tiny bit.

ElizaJane approached me quietly in my bedroom just last week, tenderly delivering this fancy red heart box, and with a tiny voice, and the sweetest of expressions, and the sincerest of hearts she chirped, "Momma, I thought you might like this".

I thought to myself, isn't this the box from the chocolates I gave her last Valentines Day??? Oh, I quickly assessed in my momma brain, she has put something special in the pretty box, something she made just for her Momma.

Upon opening the box I discovered this, five half eaten chocolates, 4 month old chocolates, chocolates that I thought had been relished and devoured months ago!

"UHHHHHHHH, wellllllllllll, ummmmmmmm, yeah, Liza, thanks......ummmmm that was really thoughtful of you sweety", I stammered.

"I just found them, and I thought you might like em, cuz, well cuz, I know how much you like chocolate. I didn't really care for them, but I tried them all. I thought you might want to try them too." her voice was hushed, and sweet, and proud, as if she was sharing a secret between just the two of us.

"Thank you sweety, that was so sweet to think of Momma! Chocolates are my favorite!" I swooned. We shared a long hug, and she was off like a pixie to bless the next unexpected victim with her charms.

Yes, I think I am rethinking the whole regifting thing.

Hero is spelled DAD

The Father's day card that ElizaJane picked out this year for her Daddy, to go with the straw hat we purchased for those long hot lawn mowing days here in Georgia said, "At our house we spell Hero D-A-D."

Her card is so right on target! Her Daddy is her Hero!

All of these pictures were taken this year, but we have lots more just like 'em for every 22 years that we have had children. Pictures of him being here with us, always being fun! He isn't a I'm to tired, or maybe later, kind of Dad. He has invested his days being available and present.

He plays, he wrestles, he prays, he laughs, he lectures, he admonishes, he coaches, he corrects, he hugs, he cries for, he comforts, he helps, he encourages, he ribs, he punishes, he reads to, he teaches, he compliments, he drives, but whatever it is that he does, he is here, and he has been doing it for 22 years, and he will continue to do it for as many days as the Lord gives him!

In his heart he yearns for his children to love their God with all their hearts, and to follow and serve their God always. That has always been his greatest desire and prayer, and it always will be.

He longs for them to be great men and women of God, not for the eyes of man, but for the glory of their Father in Heaven.

I can say, because I have watched for 22 years, that he always strives to be the best Father he can be, always, and that takes sacrifice. If given the opportunity he would give his life for each of his kids without a moments hesitation.

In essence he does give his life for his kids, every moment of every day, as he works hard to provide for their physical needs, and comes home and provides for their spiritual and emotional needs as well.

At our house Hero is spelled D-A-D!

His plan

We detected a strong odor as we pulled up behind the grey sedan at the red light. Her license read IAMA 10, and she was on the phone as her fluffy white dog looked on. It wasn't until the light turned red that we realised IAMA 10 was in trouble. The car behind us beeped impatiently as it passed around us both. We pulled up beside her and my passenger side window went down. "need some help?" I asked. "I ..I ...I think so", she replied nervously. " I'm 40 minutes from home, and my husband is in Michigan, and I can't get hold of my friend, and it just shut down, we've been thinking about a new car, oh I never should have left home!", she rattled off. Michael put our van in park, and turned on the flashers. They opened the car hood together under the beating sun, as if a bright red button might appear that would say push me, and would magically restore the cars function. No button appeared. Kartwright joined Michael to push the stalled car into the turn lane together, in nice khaki pants and dress shoes. I too exited the car, and in my heels reentered on the drivers side to move our vehicle out of traffic as well.

Several minutes passed as I watched in the rear view mirror, and occasionally glanced at my watch. Eventually they all three began to walk toward our vehicle, and I asked Haven to join ElizaJane in the backseat to make room for our new passenger. Cheryl was her name she said, and her small fur ball was Wendy. It soon became obvious as Michael followed her directions that church was no longer our plan today. We shared pleasant conversation as we drove through the beautiful Georgia countryside, and I watched the minutes tick by. I texted Dakota to let he and Maria know where we were, so they wouldn't worry, and I sat back in silent submission to a God who often has a different plan then I do.

We dropped Cheryl and Wendy off at their desired destination, knowing the service was deep into sermon time by now, and we would only be a distraction if we tried to go, not to mention we had no idea how far we were from the church. We proceeded to drive the now more than 50 minutes home. Once home we all changed out of Sunday clothes and I started lunch. Dakota soon called to let us know they were on their way, We have made sharing Sunday dinner a sort of tradition now. Over oven fried chicken and potato salad we laughed and joked as always we do in this house. Dakota was anxious to tell us about the sermon, "it was awesome" he said with animation, "I wish you would have heard it, I just know you would have LOVED it!"

The topic: The good Samaritan!

As I tucked the girls in for that night, we prayed for Cheryl, and Wendy, and we thanked God for the opportunity to serve Him, even though we didn't understand why it had to be on Sunday morning.

It is so good to know that even when we don't understand, He always has a plan!

This year was different

We have never really made much of Memorial Day at our house. Michael usually has had to work, and we have usually just done school, as we do every other day. I try always to remember to thank God for our service men and women, both past and present, but it has never been a day set apart much from the others.

This year was different.

We made plans to do it the American way, and we got tickets to see our favorite team, the Braves , play baseball. We ate popcorn, and salty soft pretzels. We drank to much ice cold Coke, and sang "Take me out to the Ballgame". We laughed, we clapped, and we did the Tomahawk chop while hooting like Indians. Some of us got a bit too much sun, and all of us participated in the wave. We sang The National Anthem, and God Bless America, and I watched as my men removed their hats in respect. We watched Chipper hit one out of the park, and we cheered our Braves to a valiant victory over the Phillies.

We had fun!

See that white dot above my oldest Dakota's left shoulder? That was the spot that Hank Aaron's ball hit when he broke Babe Ruth's home run record. The old stadium is now the parking lot. Michael was present that record breaking day, and we listened as he reminisced about precious childhood memories of seeing the Braves play.

All of this was fun, and nothing can replace good times together as a family. The ribs after that were also truly delicious, but my favorite time of the whole terrific day, was the pre-game show.


The Braves organization honored our war veterans, both the living, and those that are not. The baseball diamond was circled by men and women of the armed services in uniform, surrounding war heros that represented each branch. beyond the bases stood the families of many of our heroes that are either deployed, or are not coming home. There was a movie presentation saluting our heros on the huge screen that sets Turner field apart from most others, a very moving presentation. The whole stadium seemed to stand at attention, and listen.



I was truly struck by the sacrifice our service people have made, and continue to make, as I enjoyed the very freedoms that they so bravely fight, and have fought for.

I was stuck by the pictures of men the ages that my sons now are, and thought of the Mommas, and wives, and babies, that those young men left behind.

I was reminded of my own Fathers service in the Korean war, where as just an 18 year old boy he flew for the very first time, was shipped miles and miles from home, to a country he knew very little about, to see and experience unspeakable things. He has raised four children, Is Grandpa to 11, and great grandpa to 5. He is a strong, and brave, and Godly man, but his service to our country did not come without sacrifice.

Lots of men have done what my Father did, good men, some that lost more then their boy hood, and I was moved, and reminded, as I enjoyed precious moments with my family, that all that we so flippantly revel in, was purchased at a very high price.

So, I just wanted to say thank you, if you are one of those who have served, is serving, or is going without the one you love because of service. Thank you!

butterfly love

And I am sure of this,

that he who began a good work in you

will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

The Holy Bible

English Standard Version

Paul in a letter to the Philippians chapter 2:6

laughing is good for the soul!

We recently saw this guy in person. We dragged the whole family out in the cold rain, and it was well worth it. We laughed OUT LOUD for the whole evening, and our sides literally hurt, I am not even lying to you! If you get the chance to see him, please go, because no matter what is going on in your life, laughing is truly good for the soul!

Check Tim out here, and scroll down to listen to short songs. I am telling you, this guy would be funny if the sound was turned off, he has such great expressions!

http://www.timhawkins.net/video.php

A front yard visitor

As the deer panteth for the water

So my soul longeth after thee

You alone are my hearts desire

And I long to worship thee

verse based on Psalm 42 holy scripture

slander

Whoever spreads slander is a fool

Proverbs 10:18

please read or listen to THIS

A sweet poem for all

I Must Be

I must be a Christian child,

Gentle, Patient, meek, and mild:

Must be honest, simple, true

In my words and actions too.

I must cheerfully obey,

Giving up my will and way:

Must not always thinking be

What is pleasantest to me:

But must try kind things to do

And make others happy too.

If a playmate treats me ill,

I must be forgiving still:

I must learn my lessons well,

Not my schoolmates to excel,

But because my hearts delight

Is in doing what is right.

And in all I do and say,

In my lessons and my play,

Must remember, God can view

All I think, and all I do.

Glad that I can know I try,

Glad that children such as I,

In our feeble ways and small,

Can serve Him who loves us all.

- Author unknown