tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70559850815397691732024-02-19T07:31:53.867-08:00it's a wonderful life!wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-47678258018946576292011-05-04T07:45:00.000-07:002011-05-04T07:45:15.856-07:00Brittle vs. HardOh how I need an abundance of grace! <br />
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For myself---what a wretched mess I am.<br />
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For others....have mercy, I am impatient when things don't go my way.<br />
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For the journey--God, I really didn't think this was how it was going to look. <br />
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<i>A high station in life is earned by the gallantry with which appalling experiences are survived with grace. <br />
Tennessee Williams <br />
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<b></b></i><br />
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Have you seen the Bill Murray movie "Groundhog's Day" ? While it isn't a favorite of mine, it definitely makes me think of my life and the manner in which I have to learn lessons. I feel like I am destined to repeat my flaws and mistakes like a broken loop on an old VHS tape sometimes! <br />
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Short-tempered, perfectionistic, critical, impatient, frustrated....my identity is tied up in my flaws and failures this morning. I am reminded that there is a better way. <br />
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I have a long way to go. Today, I'm stuck in about the third replaying...I'm wrestling with recognizing when I'm a jerk and moving on, instead of staking a tent in the land of shame, which I'm so prone to do.<br />
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I'm pondering where the brittleness comes from and recognizing what I've allowed to cause it. Back in my scientist days, I knew the difference between brittleness and hardness. Brittleness means a substance breaks easily under stress. Hardness is an indicator of how unyielding a substance is when force is applied.<br />
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My heart and my attitude have become brittle. Both are in need of Living Water in order to become resilient and pliable again. I'm in a drought period....in spite of the many bible studies I'm participating in. When the earth is parched and cracked and a big rain comes, sometimes the water runs off instead of soaking into the ground. Ironically, we are in a season of relentless, soaking rain here in the valley. Everywhere you step you sink into soft earth. I need to soak my heart and mind, continuously, in the life-giving water of Truth to regain that soft, plowable ground that is moldable and shapeable without shattering. <br />
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I'm thankful for the lesson today-- that brittle doesn't equal hardened. I had forgotten. I'm thankful for grace, like rain, that will soften brittle places and allow more grace to grow.<br />
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<b>As in nature, as in art, so in grace; it is rough treatment that gives souls, as well as stones, their luster. <br />
Thomas Guthrie<br />
<i></i></b>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-39208121290453022832011-02-09T05:48:00.000-08:002011-02-09T05:48:39.605-08:00\o/ God inhabits our praise....“...I will bless the LORD at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth” (Psalms 34:1).<br />
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Last night I was typing a comment to an old friend on facebook. I started the comment with the word "woohoo" in response to her son cooking dinner for the family. I was happily remembering him as a toddler, when we first met and thinking about how much time had passed.<br />
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My phone autocorrected my "woohoo" to "Elohim". <br />
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It reminded me that God inhabits the praises of His people- as if He were in that silly word of joy, Elohim in the woohoo. Sacred in eucharisteo. Holy in the mundane. God in my every moment.<br />
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It made me laugh out loud, that Papa would choose to remind me of his ever present joy in praise through such an unexpected coincidence. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://dixonhomestead.com/auntjen/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/worship-praise.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="609" width="812" src="http://dixonhomestead.com/auntjen/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/worship-praise.bmp" /></a></div><br />
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I want to live a life of thanks. <br />
Look for extraordinary in the ordinary. <br />
Find grace in the everyday.<br />
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Woohoo!wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-14582946685437860662011-02-06T12:06:00.000-08:002011-02-06T12:06:22.537-08:00Daring to live fully....that is the challenge being picked up by many of my female friends, both real and virtual. Learning to live fully, in the moment, embracing our current reality with grace, joy, thankfulness and an appreciation for the fact that we are exactly where we are meant to be, in spite of our circumstances because the sovereign God has placed us there, at this time, in this moment.<br />
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Boy, it sounds good. Especially when I'm curled up with Ann Voskamp's book, a hot cup of peppermint tea, my house is clean and my kids are quietly, peacefully engaged in something. <br />
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Not so much when I'm dealing with the raw material of me. Cranky, short-fused, snarky, saying all the words I mean to choke back instead of responding with love and grace because I'm so thankful for all of the stuff of life. <br />
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Truth? or Dare? <br />
<br />
When I was a kid, I always took the dare. I took the dare because I fancied myself to be brave and reckless and there was some kind of thrill to doing stupid things....and I didn't really want to answer truth to questions that I didn't want to be asked. <br />
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As I am slowly, slowly, ever so slowly chewing my way through this book, I'm finding that God is asking me both questions and I don't get to choose. He is challenging me to look at the truth of who I am, and who I'm not. He is asking me to remember the Truth of Who He is, and to embrace that. Cling to it. Recognize it as the life raft that it is when I'm drowning in fear, doubt, anger, self-loathing, insecurity, feelings of failure and frustration. Truth. <br />
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He is also daring me to live it out loud. He is asking me to recognize the idols of comfort and peace and acceptance that I've built altars to in my life, and burn them. He is urging me to destroy the false securities that I've stored up for my own comfort and satisfaction. He is daring me to trust Him and to live my life with that at the forefront. <br />
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I am finding that I am not the brave, reckless girl I once thought I was. I've built up buffers in my life to feeling and being. I am reminded of the skin horse in The Velveteen Rabbit....<br />
<i>What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" <br />
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"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." <br />
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"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. <br />
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"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." <br />
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"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" <br />
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"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." <br />
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"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled. <br />
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</i><br />
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I want to be real. <br />
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I want to live real. <br />
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It is the truth. I'll take the dare, and challenge you to do the same. Truth and Dare. Let's do it. <br />
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People with their minds set on you,<br />
you keep completely whole,<br />
Steady on their feet,<br />
because they keep at it and don’t quit.<br />
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Isaiah 26:3 (The Messagewordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-23486042797093527012011-02-04T07:37:00.000-08:002011-02-04T08:08:12.044-08:00HardstoppingI read <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com">Ann Voskamp's blog </a>entry today regarding Simple Homeschooling, and found myself thinking about the things I allow to derail me on a semi-regular basis. <br /><br />She talked about living a daily liturgy, allowing our days to be routine, reverent and an act of worship-- all concepts I've thought about before, but there was a new reminder regarding my hurried life in today's thoughts.<br /><br />Hardstopping. Stopping to pray, read, write, whatever the necessary thing is-- in spite of what needs done.<br /><br />When my triplets were little, I did that. I had to. I stopped to pray with them, read to them, play with them. I stopped whatever I was doing because I recognized that the days were fleeting and I'd never get it all done, anyway. <br /><br />The laundry piled up, the dishes constantly worked their way toward chaos instead of order, the toys were always on the floor and the dog always needed walked.<br /><br />Now, however, in a house filled with teenagers, its not quite so disordered. The dishes get caught up and the laundry does, too, on occaision. Plus, there are many hands to lighten the load so it seems that we can "get it done". <br /><br />There is a sense that the house can be ordered, the laundry be managed, the dust can be conquered and the dog hair can be contained, if we just stay on top of it. Schoolwork can be completed, the daily tasks and routines can find a stopping point...<br /><br />And we hurry. We hurry to get it all done so that we can idle. I'm struck by what the goal is. Complete it. Check it off. Finish it. For what? To have time on our hands? <br /><br />Many years ago, Jeff got a ticket for rolling through a stop sign. He looked both ways, saw nothing coming, slowed down and cruised right through the intersection. A policeman saw the roll through and gave him a sizeable ticket. He was sentenced to traffic school in order to get out of paying. <br /><br />Ann's words were traffic school for me this morning. I am living my life looking both ways and rolling through the intersection. I'm rushing living, waiting for God to show up when He is already here. I'm hurrying up to wait. <br /><br />I'm looking at my fourteen year olds scratching their algebra assignment in notebooks today, recognizing anew that time is fleeting. I need to hardstop, to pray with them, read with them, play a game with them. It doesn't matter if the dishes aren't put away at this moment in time or that there are four baskets of laundry waiting to be folded. Dog hair needs swept off of the staircase, but it always does. I have to. <br /><br /> The days are short. God is here. I want to stop and recognize Him instead of rolling through the intersection on my way to nowhere. <br /><br />21-25 Thank you for responding to me; <br /> you've truly become my salvation! <br /> The stone the masons discarded as flawed <br /> is now the capstone! <br /> This is God's work. <br /> <em><strong>We rub our eyes—we can hardly believe it! <br /> This is the very day God acted— <br /> let's celebrate and be festive! <br /> Salvation now, God. Salvation now! <br /> Oh yes, God—a free and full life!</strong></em> Psalm 118: 21-25 The Messagewordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-67568657237137781512011-01-09T18:21:00.000-08:002011-01-09T18:33:36.664-08:00Awakenings.....Have you watched that tragic movie? <br />It's probably 20 years old or so by now. <br /><br />I remember watching it when I wasn't even twenty-five and sobbing until I thought I'd be sick. I can't really imagine the impact it would have on me now, now that I'm 42 and not living up to the potential that is placed in me.....not really living life to it's fullest....choosing the coma on some days.<br /><br /><br />See, the gist of the movie is that there are some patients who suffered from encephalitis or something like that, and they've been living in a comatose state. The, the miracle drug arrives. <br /><br />They awake.<br /><br />They speak, see, feel , taste, engage.<br /><br />They experience life, so joyfully, engage in it, express themselves.<br /><br />Then ( spoiler alert. Hey. It's a 20 year old movie. Cut me some slack.) they start to slip back into their comatose state. <br /><br />For all of the joy, the hope, the purposed intent.....it doesn't really matter. Temporary at best.<br /><br />Tragic. True story, too, based on a memoir by Oliver Sacks in the 70's. <br /><br /><br />Here's the kicker, though. <br /><br />I'm not so different some of the time. <br /><br />I live numb. Dull. Undisciplined and unpurposed. Catatonic to the purposes God has written in my DNA and called my heart to. I blunt my own passions and dull my own heart by accepting things that are less than.<br /><br />Less than what I'm meant to be, less than what I dream of doing. This, too, is a true story. Based on a not yet written memoir by me. <br /><br /><strong>Ephesians 5:14 (The Message)<br /><br /> 11-16Don't waste your time on useless work, mere busywork, the barren pursuits of darkness. Expose these things for the sham they are. It's a scandal when people waste their lives on things they must do in the darkness where no one will see. Rip the cover off those frauds and see how attractive they look in the light of Christ. <br /><br /> Wake up from your sleep, <br /> Climb out of your coffins; <br /> Christ will show you the light!<br />So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times! </strong><br /><br /><br />Yeah, man!<br /><br />That's the cry of my heart this evening. I'm climbing out of my coffin and inviting everyone in my life to do the same. My husband. My kids. You, if you're so inclined. <br /><br />These are desperate times. Let's make the most out of every chance we get, Christ will show us the light. <br /><br /><object width="480" height="360"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/video/x29mqd_switchfoot-meant-to-live_music?additionalInfos=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/video/x29mqd_switchfoot-meant-to-live_music?additionalInfos=0" width="480" height="360" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed></object><br /><b><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x29mqd_switchfoot-meant-to-live_music">Switchfoot - Meant to live</a></b><br /><i>Uploaded by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/Le_CCE">Le_CCE</a>. - <a target="_self" href="http://www.dailymotion.com/us/channel/music">Explore more music videos.</a></i>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-43245336177766384712011-01-02T18:50:00.000-08:002011-01-02T19:08:00.533-08:00Such Great Heights....I love that song by the Postal Service. <br /><br /><em>They will see us waving from such great<br />Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say<br />But everything looks perfect from far away,<br />'come down now,' but we'll stay...</em><br /><br />Yeah, it's January. Time to set such lofty goals that I'm overwhelmed by all of my own aspirations. I'm not even gonna pretend that it's a new concept for me, or that I'm even very successful at the whole new beginnings and new lease on life stuff....<br /><br />But. <br /><br />This time feels different.<br /><br />This time, I'm old enough to know that change doesn't come easy and I don't expect it to. This time, I'm just ready for it. Change. Ready to embrace it with my flabby, forty something arms and hold on to it for all I'm worth. <br /><br />I have lofty goals. <br /><br />I want to be more like Jesus. Not because I'm supposed to. Just because I'd rather be like Him than anyone else. I long to be more like Him. More loving. More forgiving. More passionate. More God centered and purposed to live for the things that matter instead of being blindsided by the things that don't.<br /><br />I want to be healthier. Spiritually, sure. But mentally, emotionally and physically, too. I really want to be the best me I can be. My momming and wifing is definitely affected by my lack of energy and I want that to change. Strike that. I *need* that to change.<br /><br />I want to laugh more. Louder. Even if people look at me funny.<br /><br />I want to live in the moment, with abandon. The moments are flying by. I don't want to miss out on my life while I'm waiting for it to happen.<br /><br />so. I'm going to do some hard things this year, that will hopefully be less difficult when next year's "New Year, new goals, new outlook" post rolls around.<br /><br />I'm going to move. Often. I want to become a runner. Scares me to put that in print because I am an awkward, limping runner at best right now. But, there it is. <br /><br />I also want to revamp my cooking. I cook like a madwoman and take great pride in it...but my kitchen forays definitely need a facelift. 2011 will be the year of "Cooking Light". Yep. I'm going to pull out all of my issues of that trusty magazine and cook a year's worth of meals from it's illustrious pages. Think Julie and Julia without the butter, foie gras and hopefully with the opposite effect on my waistline. If I'm disciplined about it, I hope to chronicle that progression on these pages. We shall see.<br /><br />Finally, I'm going to perfect the balancing act of self-discipline and grace for my mistakes. Well, I'm going to work on perfecting that artful balance. I want to be who I was created to be and not beat myself up in the process.<br /><br />Happy New Year. Hope yours is off to a fantastic start. I've managed to keep all of my lofty goals for the 48 hours that it's been 2011.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-14809115306288573582010-02-26T06:46:00.000-08:002010-02-26T06:56:58.961-08:00Shadowing.....<a href="http://www.teesart.org/wp-content/uploads/duetdance1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://www.teesart.org/wp-content/uploads/duetdance1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />My girl is headed to the local veterinary office this morning. Twice a month she shadows there from 9 to 6, assisting with surgeries, calming dogs and cats and owners, feeding treats, pulling stitches, cleaning exam rooms..... You name it, she does it. She plans on being a vet someday and has the great benefit of following a friend of ours and learning from her. I am amazed by how much she's learned already. What size tubing to use during anesthesia, dosage amounts, dispensing meds, all kinds of diagnostic information...as well as the day to day details of running an office, expenses versus income, payroll, overhead, a lot of behind the scenes stuff. Shadowing has been and continues to be an invaluable experience for her and she hopes to continue through vet school---learning all she can to be the best veterinarian she can be. She is challenged and taught, there are requirements made of her, yet nothing is expected of her that she is not yet ready for. It is a phenomenal opportunity.<br /><br />I need to start shadowing. I want to learn all I can to be the best Michele I can be. <em>Come to me, get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me. Watch how I do it. learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11:28</em>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-48004717361631210912010-02-11T09:26:00.000-08:002010-02-11T09:51:11.995-08:00Now what?<a href="http://kiddley.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/finger_painting.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 228px;" src="http://kiddley.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/finger_painting.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I've been wrestling with change. I love it and hate it at the same time. I crave change on a regular basis, but am resistant to the kinds of changes that I can't control. Does that make me schizophrenic? Quite possibly. <br /><br />I am the parent of four teenagers. This is a fact that I love. They are fantastic people, genuine, authentic, honest, funny. I love each one of them for who they are and how they are. But lately I've been thinking about how I parented when they were little. It seems like things of faith were a lot more concrete back in those days. We made eggshell crosses for Easter and talked about what they represented....we baked cookies and made crafts and caught bugs and fingerpainted, and managed to weave the truths of God into every project. It felt solid, right, peaceful.<br /><br />Now, our days are filled with calculus and physics, college classes, kung fu, shadowing a veterinarian, running, working out, facebook, friends.....good stuff, but harder to draw clear cut lines that are tied to Truth. Harder questions. Difficult processing. It feels transient, grey, frightening.<br /><br />Truth hasn't changed, nor has my love for it, the Word, the Way. Life has a funny way of changing, though, and with it children grown and change as well. Its good. Its necessary. Meat is harder to chew than milk, I guess. Parenting on the threshold of adulthood is a little harder to embrace than toddlerhood on some days. Thankfully, a pan of brownies, a good soundtrack and open conversation still work their magic.....even when the subjects have changed.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-7787577146236134622010-01-14T18:05:00.000-08:002010-01-14T18:39:43.915-08:00Grummy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8bobWunOXGou9sdW7uoQLB2czf5bUfWqaL2or1Ac_wQtWFCMOwjnIjPbJu1OS76xjeVbNS9W3eJuMheehyphenhyphenTbILQIKf7L_uy-BmbWwvFK4TFfyqt13Znvv4LGORn-qQsUgQaesNFIuHhT/s1600-h/GRUM+FLOWERS+2.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8bobWunOXGou9sdW7uoQLB2czf5bUfWqaL2or1Ac_wQtWFCMOwjnIjPbJu1OS76xjeVbNS9W3eJuMheehyphenhyphenTbILQIKf7L_uy-BmbWwvFK4TFfyqt13Znvv4LGORn-qQsUgQaesNFIuHhT/s320/GRUM+FLOWERS+2.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426790306268628114" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />I have a relationship with my grandmother that is the definition of <strong>unconditional love....</strong>she has modeled grace, forgiveness, encouragement, support, fun, passion and all things wonderful for me since I arrived on the planet. Her indomitable spirit has given me courage to do what needs done more times than I can count.<br />She introduced me to <strong>Jesus</strong>...<br />taught me to bake <strong>chocolate chip cookies</strong>....<br />"beachcombed" on the banks of the Ohio with me from the time I could walk...<br />demonstrates the <strong>power of prayer </strong>by always believing that is the first and best option....<br />picked me up from Skate Country countless Friday nights....<br />sent me notes all through college...<br />loves on my kiddos by making them corn flake chews and individually wrapping them in wax paper....<br />epitomizes the truth of <strong>I Corinthians 13 </strong>by walking it out every day....<br />she lost her husband when she was only 38, with sons aged 18, 8 and 6...<br />she lost her youngest son to a recurring battle with a brain tumor when he was just 42...<br />she's had her heart broken a number of times in a number of ways, and still she remains <strong>strong, courageous, faithful</strong>, and maintains her sense of humor. <br /><br /><br />She practices what she preaches, and I'm who I am because of her love. I am forever thankful that she's my grandmother.<br /><br />This past week has been a long and difficult one. Grum threw a bloodclot to her bowel last Wednesday, perhaps as she was shovelling snow. Her 83 years don't seem to register, as she mows the yard, climbs steps to the river, tends other people's house sitting and serves everyone she knows. <br /><br />I don't care to think what might have happened had my uncle not gone to check on her Friday morning. If we hadn't had a snow day, we might not have her with us. I am so thankful for God's hand, especially when I can't see it until after the fact.<br /><br />After a long, invasive surgery and a lot of challenges ( she's too much of a lady for me to broadcast her particulars to the internet ;) ) we have her recovering well--even though she has quite a road ahead of her. I'm so very thankful for timing, skilled surgeons, kind nurses, and praying people. I am thankful. So thankful.<br /><br /><strong>Grummy, you are amazing</strong>. Thanks for loving each of us the way that you do. May we honor you by loving others in much the same way. I'm so thankful I have you to walk alongside me as I learn the way.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-23440780543256776152010-01-04T17:20:00.000-08:002010-01-04T17:31:17.146-08:00Who's woods these are....<a href="http://www.americansnowcontrol.com/SNOW%20WITH%20TREES.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://www.americansnowcontrol.com/SNOW%20WITH%20TREES.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I think I know. His house is in the village, though. He will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow.... The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go, before I sleep....miles to go, before I sleep....<br /><br />I'm not sure what Robert Frost was contemplating when he wrote Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening so long ago, but tonight I've been stationed by my window, watching the snow fall. It's beautiful, really, as it covers everything in a pristine blanket of white. However, I have a teenage son driving home from work tonight and I find that I'm missing the beauty as I anxiously wait to see his headlights turn in the drive. <br /><br />It's funny how difficult it is to watch them grow up, and how I find myself doing the things I never thought I'd do....calling to check up, waiting by the window, realizing how quickly time passes. Tonight, for me, Frosts final words of the poem ring true in ways I hadn't contemplated. Miles to go, before I sleep....wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-5613429694385774122010-01-01T14:56:00.000-08:002010-01-01T15:15:04.864-08:00<a href="http://www.insidesocal.com/bargain/crayons.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 338px;" src="http://www.insidesocal.com/bargain/crayons.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Aaahhhh. New day, new year, new decade. Nothing like a fresh beginning to get me all excited about possibilities and potential. Kinda like opening a brand new box of crayons and having the freedom to choose which one I want to use first. <br /><br />2010 came far more quickly than I thought possible. I'm getting older, and not always wiser, have a kiddo heading to college and three more teenagers sitting at my dining room table every night. There is less certainty and more wondering at this point in my life, I'm not as accomplished as I thought I might be in some areas, but far more at peace than I ever dreamed I could be. <br /><br />The beginning of a new year always moves me. I'm moved by all that has gone before--people, opportunities, laughter, memories....but I'm motivated by all of the potential that stretches in front of us, like a big blank sheet of newsprint taped on the kitchen table, with a new box of crayons waiting to be opened.<br /><br />2009 seems to have been a difficult year for many people, including a lot of my friends. So many have faced trials and losses, personal, financial, familial...there seems to be a general thankfulness to put the past year behind us and start something new. My prayer for all of us as we step foot through the door of 2010 is that we do it with open hands and open hearts, ready to be a part of what <br />God has in store for us.<br /><br />16-21This is what God says, <br /> the God who builds a road right through the ocean, <br /> who carves a path through pounding waves,<br />The God who summons horses and chariots and armies— <br /> they lie down and then can't get up; <br /> they're snuffed out like so many candles:<br /><strong>"Forget about what's happened; <br /> don't keep going over old history.<br />Be alert, be present. I'm about to do something brand-new. <br /> It's bursting out! Don't you see it?<br />There it is! I'm making a road through the desert, <br /> rivers in the badlands.</strong>Wild animals will say 'Thank you!' <br /> —the coyotes and the buzzards—<br />Because I provided water in the desert, <br /> rivers through the sun-baked earth,<br /><strong>Drinking water for the people I chose, <br /> the people I made especially for myself, <br /> a people custom-made to praise me</strong><br /><br />I don't know about you, but I'm not sure what to color first!wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-16460806479337210642009-03-20T08:40:00.000-07:002009-03-20T08:42:45.666-07:00<a href="http://www.americaslibrary.gov/assets/es/wi/es_wi_circus_1_e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 760px; height: 464px;" src="http://www.americaslibrary.gov/assets/es/wi/es_wi_circus_1_e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />True Confessions of a Homeschooling Mom<br />Hello, my name is Michele and I am a homeschooler. <br /> Yes, I’ve been at this for awhile and I know that it is the best choice for my family. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Phillipians 4:13 is true and that God will equip me and strengthen me to do the job. I love my children and consider myself blessed to be able to truly get to know them, to spend time with them and to help shape them into the people God is calling them to become. Homeschooling is truly the best choice I’ve ever made, apart from choosing to follow Christ with my life.<br />But…..<br />Sometimes I feel like I’m failing my kids.<br />Sometimes, I see that big yellow bus when I’m drinking my morning coffee and wonder if they wouldn’t have been better off in public school.<br />Sometimes, I want to run away and join the circus, or lock myself in my room with a bag of Hershey’s kisses, or have five minutes of time to myself to sort out my thoughts. Just sayin’. Sometimes, those things are just as true.<br /><br />The thing is, when I get too focused on the wrong things, I lose my perspective. I’ve had my fair share of messes and mistakes along the homeschool journey. There have been days when I’ve lost my temper, or yelled at my children. There have been days when I felt like any certified teacher would surely be a better alternative to my frazzled, frustrated, worn- out self. There have been days when my objective was the standardized test, the academic performance, or what the neighbors think when we end up outside in the middle of the afternoon. I’ve spent too much energy on other people’s opinions, comparisons and commentary.<br />Over the years, I’ve learned not to give too much power to my fears. Yes, I’m flawed and fallible. I’m not the perfect teacher or the perfect parent….but I am the perfect teacher and parent for my children, because God put me in that role. I am equipped to shepherd them through life, helping them navigate the waters of toddlerhood, adolescence and the teen years and all of the emotional and spiritual ups and downs during those years. I’m equipped to help them learn to spell, to read, to write and to learn about the world around them, as well. It’s all in the perspective.<br />If I focus daily on meeting academic goals and standards set forth by the powers that be, the latest classical education trend, or even the curriculum I choose, I am setting myself up. All of those things—standards of learning, curricula, scope and sequence, learning style profiles—have a place and a value, if I use them as tools to help me in my journey instead of allowing them to be task masters. One of the beauties of homeschooling is that I get to be in charge! I get to choose what we study, how much time we spend on the topic and when we go outside….no matter what the neighbors think. We can garden and paint, journal and cook, do science experiments and read great literature….it’s up to me. <br />I have found that when I give myself the freedom to pay attention to my kids, to observe their passions and interests and to invest in their hearts—what they love—then our school has a greater impact. Yes, we have some non-negotiables: math, grammar, writing, but if I give my kids the freedom to learn and give them the confidence to make mistakes, show grace for failures and imperfections, then I’m teaching them that life is about more than the standardized test. Our children aren’t cookie cutter people, God wired us for so much more than to be judged on the bell-curve. <br />After eleven years of homeschooling, I’ve found that the education that has been the most significant is mine. I’ve learned a lot about grace for myself and grace for my children, I’ve learned how silly and superficial I can be and I’ve learned that God has a much bigger agenda for our lives and the lives of our children than can be encompassed in a K-12 core curriculum. <br />If you are a young homeschool mom, or if you’re simply feeling frustrated and inadequate as you try to juggle the roles of wife, mom and teacher, let me encourage you to relax and enjoy the journey. You are not failing your kids, even when you have days that are failures. Your kids wouldn’t be better off on that big yellow bus, no matter what you might think on a hormonal day. The circus doesn’t provide very good benefits from what I’ve been told, so that’s not a great option either, in spite of the travel opportunity. (However, there is something to be said about a hidden stash of chocolate…) Give yourself permission to fail on some days, have grace for yourself when you do. Give your kids permission to fail at some things, too! Have grace for the fact that they are children, remember that their failures and struggles aren’t about you or your role as their teacher. They are just learning, and you are their best guide—their mom, who loves them and wants what is best. When they turn into young adults who are interested in the things around them, value the things of God and make wise, godly choices---the fact that they stink at spelling or fidget during their math lesson will pale in comparison.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-18698061919801333202008-10-15T12:46:00.000-07:002008-10-15T13:21:07.160-07:00A little leavening....<a href="http://joepastry.web.aplus.net/pics/starter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://joepastry.web.aplus.net/pics/starter.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />leaveneth the whole lump. <br /><br />I'm becoming a bit obsessed with bread making. Not the bread machine kind, though there's nothing wrong with that. No, I mean the kind of bread that you mix and knead and shape by hand. It's not necessarily perfectly shaped, it might have inconsistencies and irregularities, but that is part of it's beauty. It's therapeutic for me, breadmaking.<br /><br />I am amazed that you can mix together a few simple ingredients, wait a while, bash it around on the counter a bit and end up with something delicious and fragrant and life-sustaining.<br /><br />Lately, I've been trying to perfect a type of country french bread-- Pain au levain--that begins as a little cast-off piece of dough from the last batch...the cast-off is fed and grown until it becomes a chef, or a starter, of wild yeast wonderfulness.<br /><br /><br />Once you get it started, it lasts indefinitely as long as you feed it. Essentially, every loaf you make is a descendant of the first batch--that first little cast off piece of bread dough--and it has in it the necessary leavening to cause new loaves to rise. I know, it doesn't take a lot to amaze and amuse me, but this is a miracle in a crock, people!<br /><br />So today, I'm kneading and thinking and chatting with my children, two of whom are kneading alongside me, and I realize that bread and kids are not that different.<br /><br />You feed them, love them, help shape them and then you wait and see what happens. I know I don't want bread machine kids. I don't care for them to be perfectly sized, shaped, and predictable. I don't desire that they fit the mold ---mine or anyone elses, but God's. I am looking forward to seeing the finished product, though these days that seems to be approaching far too quickly. I am embracing their uniqueness, their sense of humor and their originality. I am thankful for the authentic people that I'm beginning to see take shape.<br /><br /><br />Most of all, I'm humbled. Humbled that God would see fit to take a little cast of dough and allow it to bring forth four amazing children. If I am careful, I'll be baking bread with this starter for years to come. If I am purposed, I can say the same of the generations to come in my family. I want to be the kind of leavening in my home that grows my family into the fullness of their potential. My prayer is that their lives will be a beautiful reflection of the Bread of Life.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-56295122511548031362008-07-31T13:23:00.000-07:002008-08-09T09:21:57.430-07:00Out of Balance<a href="http://www.rusticgirls.com/images/washing-machine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.rusticgirls.com/images/washing-machine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />I just walked in to panic in the living room....my offspring were fairly certain that a helicopter crashed in the backyard or we were under alien attack and were close to foaming at the mouth. The sounds emanating from the mudroom were loud enough to make one think that might be the case, but it was merely my washing machine. Turns out that someone loaded all of the towels from the pool into one very large load that had gotten out of balance and the machine was protesting, loudly. Not only did it sound out of control, the machine walked halfway across the mudroom floor like some crazed movie where machines come to life. <br /><br />I redistributed the towels, moved the washer back into place and life went on.<br /><br />I've been reading Romans this week and the passage on liberty in chapter 14 makes me realize that as believers we get out of balance, too. Our dogma, criticism and self-righteous assertion that our way is the right way must sound like so much noise in God's ears. Our fussing and bickering over things that are non-essential makes us wobble right out of the position we're meant to be, strains our connection to the source of our power. <br /><br />I love how Paul says it and Eugene Peterson phrases it in verse 6-10 of the chapter and following:<br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><em></em>What's important in all this is that if you keep a holy day, keep it for God's sake; if you eat meat, eat it to the glory of God and thank God for prime rib; if you're a vegetarian, eat vegetables to the glory of God and thank God for broccoli. None of us are permitted to insist on our own way in these matters> It's God we are anwerable to-- all the way from life to death and everthing in between--not each other. That's why Jesus lived and died and then lived again: so that He could be our Master across the entire range of life and death, and free us from the petty tyrannies of each other.<br /><br /><em></em><strong></strong><br />I don't know about you, but I really don't want my legacy to be that of a petty tyrant. I don't want to condescend or be treated condescendingly....it makes me a little crazy. I want to live a balanced life that is optimally functional, humming along as it should be, plugged in firmly to the source of my strength and Power, living and eating and breathing and drinking and working and singing and dancing and cleaning and laughing and writing and loving and raising children to the glory of God! <br /><br />And if that isn't encouraging or exciting enough for you, Paul ( again through the Message) leaves us with a reprimand that steps on my toes and makes me belly-laugh at the same time....he sounds just like my grandma....and she was usually right on it.<br /><br /><em><strong>Romans 14:12 So tend to your own knitting. You've got your hands full just taking care of your own life before God.</strong></em><br /><br />Isn't that the best? I'm pretty sure if I'm gonna stay balanced in the life I have to lead, tending my own knitting is the only way to roll.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-9058613099509654652008-07-25T17:56:00.000-07:002008-07-25T18:36:22.718-07:00Our Town<a href="http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/macdowell/highlights/wilder/images/MC0082.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/macdowell/highlights/wilder/images/MC0082.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong><em>Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping....into the future....</em></strong><br /><br /><br /><br />I've been working on producing Thornton Wilder's <em>Our Town</em> for our homeschool co-op next spring. The last time I read this play I was sixteen, just like Emily, and I truly didn't get it. Yeah, I analyzed it for honors English, I wrote about the underlying themes and I contributed meaningfully to the discussion in Mrs. Mabe's hot, modular classroom. I got an A in the class and kind remarks on how insightful all of my written responses were. But I definitely didn't get it.<br /><br />Fast forward a lifetime of days and I'm beginning to understand what Wilder wanted to communicate in a whole new way. <br /><br />Every single day matters. Every non-event is real life, happening all around me and never slowing down....triplet babies grow into twelve year olds with crazy senses of humor and their own ideas......first born sons get driver's licenses....smart-mouthed teenagers turn into 40 year old women.....the guy you married for his blue eyes, biceps and sense of humor has become the one person on the planet who knows everything about you and loves you anyway.....life happens.<br /><br />We found out today that a friend's wife's breast cancer has metastasized to her brain and bones. Yesterday her kids were headed back to college, today they're afraid to walk out the front door without her. <br /><br />Wilder says " a lot can happen in a thousand days".....the truth is, a lot has happened in 12,000 days or so that I haven't witnessed. I've been present for it, because it's my life, I just haven't noticed it....experienced it....appreciated it.<br /><br />When Emily goes back to Grover's Corner for her twelfth birthday, she understands something that I want to get a firm grasp on now....today....before one more sunrise.<br /><br />She says, near the end of act three " <em>I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. So all of that was going on and we never noticed. But first, Wait!! One more look. Good-bye, good-bye world. Goodbye Grover's Corners, Mama and Papa. Goodbye clocks ticking and Mama's sunflowers...and food and coffee. And new ironed dresses and hot baths and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth you are too wonderful for anyone to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?</em><em></em><br /><br /><br />I'm thankful that the real life is eternal...that there is a forever with Christ after this dress rehearsal....but I don't ever want to miss out on how great the dress rehearsal is. If God created this life as a taste of things to come, we've got no idea what we're in for....I want to realize how wonderful earth is this side of heaven; I WANT TO REALIZE LIFE WHILE I LIVE IT!!!!<br /><br />Psalm 39 is a pretty good reminder. It's more eloquent in the NIV, but the Message version really hits me where I am. verses 4-13 say it like this <br /><em>Tell me what's going on, God?<br />How long do I have to live? Give me the bad news! <br />You've kept me going on pretty short rations; my life is a string too short to be saved. Oh! We're all puffs of air, Oh! We're all shadows in a campfire. Oh! We're all just spit in the wind. We make our pile, then we leave it.<br /><br />What am I doing in the meantime, Lord? Hoping! That's what I'm doing. Hoping. You'll save me from a rebel life, save me from the contempt of dunces. I'll say no more. I'll shut my mouth, since you, Lord, are behind all this. But I can't take it much longer. When you put us through the fire to purge us from our sin, our dearest idols go up in smoke. Are we also nothing but smoke?<br /><br />Ah, god, listen to my prayer, my cry--open your ears. Don't be callous; just look at these tears of mine. I'm a stranger here. I don't know my way-- a migrant like my whole family. Give me a break, cut me some slack before it's too late and I'm out of here!"</em><br /><br /><br />Yeah. In the meantime I'm hoping! Even though I'm just a shadow, a stranger, a migrant....spit in a campfire....I want to make it count! I want to realize life while I'm living it.<br /><br />Let it go,<br />Let it roll right off your shoulder<br />Don't you know<br />The hardest part is over<br />Let it in,<br />Let your clarity define you<br />In the end<br />We will only just remember how it feels<br /><br />Our lives are made<br />In these small hours<br />These little wonders,<br />These twists & turns of fate<br />Time falls away,<br />But these small hours,<br />These small hours still remain<br /><br />Let it slide,<br />Let your troubles fall behind you<br />Let it shine<br />Until you feel it all around you<br />And i don't mind<br />If it's me you need to turn to<br />We'll get by,<br />It's the heart that really matters in the end<br /><br />Our lives are made<br />In these small hours<br />These little wonders,<br />These twists & turns of fate<br />Time falls away,<br />But these small hours,<br />These small hours still remain<br /><br /><em>These Small Hours by Rob Thomas</em>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-63468657898957866642008-07-23T10:17:00.000-07:002008-07-23T10:26:32.379-07:00Today's Top Ten<a href="http://www.oldiceworks.com.au/zencart/images/Blackberry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.oldiceworks.com.au/zencart/images/Blackberry.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />For no particular reason and in no particular order, here is a list of ten of my favorite things at this very second.<br /><br />1. Grace....really, how could we ask for more?<br /><br />2. Contented children<br /><br />3. Friends with front porches, a sense of humor and the ability to be real, gotta love that!<br /><br />4. Turning 40! Don't be afraid!<br /><br />5. My screaming new laptop ( see # 4, big birthdays have advantages)<br /><br />6. Blackberries. I just picked some this morning and put them in pancakes. They are perhaps the best part of creation.<br /><br />7. edamame, soba noodles, tofu and ginger. all together. trust me.<br /><br />8. bare feet<br /><br />9. Tomatoes ripening in my garden<br /><br />10. The public library. I mean really, they let me take all of those books home for free and then next week they let me do it all over again! They must really love me!wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-13315351326097744422008-05-07T11:34:00.000-07:002008-05-07T12:21:38.411-07:00Good Earth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbd5-olHhnY9LCA4KC3aJqZnGYL31bfa24XcNZtfpqoAyjhNvz1I5jfmqYroLhA1qsj2U6hy6wEyw4a4TsLyxGTi9Vx4oe76hsMAp6hIl1x7KIG_UputXWbazzCKnjELToQPrVXWkWJrr/s1600-h/garden+birthday+043.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbd5-olHhnY9LCA4KC3aJqZnGYL31bfa24XcNZtfpqoAyjhNvz1I5jfmqYroLhA1qsj2U6hy6wEyw4a4TsLyxGTi9Vx4oe76hsMAp6hIl1x7KIG_UputXWbazzCKnjELToQPrVXWkWJrr/s320/garden+birthday+043.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197718097701832850" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We tilled the garden last night.<br /><br />Funny, how things like gardening show me more about my own heart than prayer and meditation sometimes do. <br /><br />This particular garden is a dream. It's nothing but rich brown silt, deposited along the Ohio River many moons ago. Over the past two centuries my garden plot, along with thousands of acres surrounding my land, was home to a very productive vineyard. A variety of obscure grapes were grown here by a Danish immigrant and his family --strangers in a strange land, who came to this country and tamed some wild grapes, built a vineyard, established a school and put their lives on the line to free some slaves.<br /><br />The winery, school and vineyard are long gone and the acreage surrounding us has been subdivided until the original farm is only a memory recorded in an old journal. In spite of the changes that have taken place, though, there are reminders of the original investment in this land. We still have an arbor that is weighed down by centuries old vines, and most of our neighbors have random grape vines in their yards as well. The foundation stones that were once supporting the one room school are evident just up the road, and the winery itself sits in disrepair in my backyard, each huge, hand-hewn stone a monument testifying to the fact that someone has gone before--worked the land, tamed what was wild and made a life and we are not the originals.<br /><br />The home I lived in prior to this one was brand new. It was the first of several in a brand new subdivision, replete with homeowners' associations, covenants, restrictions and a complete lack of community within the planned community. My garden there was a nightmare. Pure red mud, packed so tightly that I couldn't till the ground on my own, and even after several years of feeding that soil, mulching in compost and humus and lots of sweat equity, I could barely grow an onion. The fruits of my labors in that garden were as withered and tired as my lack of relationships in that uncommunity.<br /><br />As I was tilling my dream dirt last night, I thought long and hard about my life and the crossroads at which I find myself where true community, worship and fellowship are concerned. I was contemplating the things that God is stirring in my heart and mind, even though they seem to be radical, different, defying the norm that I see all around me. It was as if there was a shadow of what had gone before hidden somewhere in the "new things" that God is doing in my life---a true sense that these ideas are not original. I continued thinking about my own heart as I cut through the soil and removed weeds, loosening ground so that the seeds that I plant can be deeply rooted and well watered. I want the soil of my heart to be like this garden--rich, loose, open to good seed, quick to dislodge weeds, bearing fruit that is pure and sweet and abundant enough to share.<br /><br />My heart has had seasons where it was more like the red mud garden in the planned community--dry, hard, unyielding, surrounded by "forced community" that was as dry and lifeless as that same mud.<br /><br />I don't want to go back.<br /><br />I don't want to forget that there are seeds of the Father hibernating there, shadows of what He hopes for me waiting to grow wild, like those grapes that crop up all around our neighborhood. I want to allow Him to till and weed and tend my heart so that it yields good fruit, even when it feels countercultural. I want to be free of the false restrictions I've allowed to become law to me through religion---like so many subdivision covenants and homeowners' associations--and live in the freedom of grace and truth. <br /><br />I want to follow the ancient path.<br /><br /><em>Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it.<br />Then you will find rest for your souls. Jeremiah 6:16<br /><br />Sow righteousness, reap love<br /><strong>It's time to till the ready earth, it's time to dig in with God! </strong> Hosea 10:13 MSG</em><br /><br /><br /><em></em><em></em><em></em><em></em><em></em>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-70668229287703510112008-04-29T12:28:00.000-07:002008-04-29T14:16:11.186-07:00A Day in the LifeWe decided to take some random pics today.....the neighbors aren't so sure about us.....but a fun day was had by all, so it's all good!<br /><br /><br /><div><embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=5af756f6f81edbf0a81a5f" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&p=5af756f6f81edbf0a81a5f&skin_id=701&host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"><a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=5af756f6f81edbf0a81a5f&skin_id=701&source=emplay" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/5af756f6f81edbf0a81a5f/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /></a><br/><a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&utm_source=emplay&utm_medium=txt3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;">Make video montages at <span style="text-decoration:underline;">www.OneTrueMedia.com</span></a></div></div>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-35385531268171399752008-04-23T13:59:00.000-07:002008-04-23T15:05:12.648-07:00Freedom song<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqB3uKsPwphAw5qbcdRC1H4Ow3UZ1rc3pi-iivRzYZRcmT76BWar7x8fQbrqZjhsanZY2poEo5ySZCRDkPOnk_gVU2wwBvUiyjSaO9nsKhrn3oJkToysWqy3Exwx3XvxQqTtYxGGjcG1S/s1600-h/wine-cellar.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192565122561375922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqB3uKsPwphAw5qbcdRC1H4Ow3UZ1rc3pi-iivRzYZRcmT76BWar7x8fQbrqZjhsanZY2poEo5ySZCRDkPOnk_gVU2wwBvUiyjSaO9nsKhrn3oJkToysWqy3Exwx3XvxQqTtYxGGjcG1S/s320/wine-cellar.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I've been thinking a lot lately about freedom---what it really looks like, how to walk in it, how </div><div>much it costs. Freedom is really foreign to me, even though I am blessed to live in the land of the free. I recognize fully the bill of rights, freedom of speech, free enterprise--those concepts and ideas allow me to have a standard of life that most people the world over only dream of. I understand freedom in that sense.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Living in freedom, embracing it, walking in it day in and day out, that's another story. I happen to live in a house that was once a stop on the Underground Railroad.( Well, the house itself burned down twice, so the house I live in looks just like the one that was on the Underground Railroad....but the foundation is the original. ) It's a massive old stone basement made of hand-hewn rock that connects to an equally massive wine cellar by some tunnels that were sealed off sometime in the 70's. We live on the "slave side" of the Ohio river, and back in the day, people who risked their lives to experience a taste of freedom would pass through my basement, slip down the tunnels into the wine cellar and make their way through the river bottom and ferry across to the free side. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It was risky to make the journey. It was brave and dangerous to defy the system of the day and help those who were seeking freedom to find their way out of bondage. The family who owned my house had to really own their beliefs--that freedom was for everyone, and they would risk their own comfort (and safety) in order to help other people find their way. They embodied faith , because they walked it out and in doing so, lives were saved, hope was offered, captives were set free.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I want to live my life like that. I want to own my freedom. When I think about my children--their silliness, their passion, their honesty and frankness--I get a glimpse of what I think freedom must feel like. Thankfully, they're pretty secure in our love for them, so they operate with confidence inside the safe boundaries of their world. They are free to be themselves, free to ask questions, free to learn and experience and make mistakes, and free to push the boundaries and question them if the boundaries seem wrong. They know they are loved innately by their parents and they operate freely in that love. When they're under the care of someone else, they are more reticent....more reserved.....more careful. They're less likely to be open and silly and who they really are.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'm realizing that, unfortunately, I've been operating like I'm at the cosmic babysitter's house instead of living in the love of my Daddy. I've been cautious, and timid and hesitant to be real, rather than spinning and dancing and experiencing the freedom of being the much loved child of God, himself. It's as if I'm standing on the slave side of the river, looking longingly across the water at the free land but the tunnel has been blocked off. The crazy thing is, there is no cost to me--it's already been paid by Jesus. The tunnel isn't sealed, it's blocked off by my own junk that I just pile in the way---past hurts, church junk, religious checklists, legalism, fear of others---all that stuff has blocked the pathway to freedom that is already at my foundation.....I just have to be willing to let go of it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'm ready now, I think, to slip through the tunnel and out through the wine cellar and across the field to the place where freedom waits. I understand that finding freedom will cause me to want to show others the way and that I'll have to be patient with their bondage and their baggage. I'm learning that the paradox of Jesus calls me to have compassion for the captors and the systems that keep people from being free....but for the first time I'm understanding that it isn't my job to try the captors. I'm not called to tear down the systems and adjust the mindsets. That in itself is a massive step toward freedom! Instead of fixing the whole mess, I'm just called to be free, and to lovingly share that freedom with others as best I can. Then there will be a whole chorus of people singing freedom songs from the other side of the river....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you. I am emphatic about this. The moment any one of you submits to circumcision or any other rule-keeping system, at the same moment Christ's hard-won gift of freedom is squandered. I repeat my warning: The person who accepts the ways of circumcision trades all the advantages of the free life in Christ for the obligations of the slave life of the law.</em></div><br /><div><em>I suspect you would never intend this, but this is what happens. When you attempt to live by your own religious plans and projects, you are cut off from Christ, you fall out of grace. Meanwhile, we expectantly wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit. For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love. Galatians 5:1-6 MSG</em></div><br /><div><em></em></div>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-59357342222369976262008-03-19T12:18:00.000-07:002008-03-19T12:50:06.763-07:00Scrambled or poached?I was delightfully surprised this week by a long-time mentor. Things have been transitional around here for a while now......I guess that's an obvious concept, since change is inevitable, but the family has been on a journey that feels a bit like the old childhood game of blind man's bluff.<br /><br />At any rate, I'd spent some road time walking and praying this week between bouts of rain, anda couple of the specific things I'd been talking over with God were purpose and direction. Truthfully, I was asking for a bit of a pulse check.....you know, one of those prayers where you know God's got it all going on, but you're not quite sure you're tuned to the right frequency? I'd been feeling that I had run into the same dead end several times over and was asking for fresh vision to see my way over or around the hurdle.<br /><br />Honestly? My spiritual life had reached a point of defiance dressed up to look like caution and careful thinking. Instead of "running the race that was set before me", I was operating much like I do when I try to humor one of my sons by playing Viva Pinata......spinning in circles, headed in the wrong direction, madly mashing buttons on the video controller. In other words, in the game but going nowhere.<br /><br />So, God, in His crazy way, chose to show up in the form of a phone call with a much respected mentor that I had never met. I was encouraged, challenged and able to process a lot of things during that phone call----enough to fill several blog posts on a variety of subjects that had been rolling around in my mind. Abba surprised me with a conversation that literally walked through the laundry list of some key things I'd been wrestling with. With all respect to my mentor ( and friend!!) I'm not sure he even realizes how much he was used by God yesterday morning.<br /><br />What, you may be asking yourself, does this have to do with eggs---as implied in the title of this confusing post? Everything, really. My mentor reminded me of a significant thread in the movie <em>Runaway Bride</em> with Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. It seems that each of the unfortunate suitors who'd been left at the altar all had one thing in common---they knew that "she was the one" because she liked her eggs the same way they liked theirs. Poached....scrambled.....over easy.......soft-boiled......in all honesty, the girl wasn't lying. I'm sure she <strong>did</strong> like her eggs the same way they did. The reporter covering the story unlocked the unlikely source of her inability to commit, stating , "The problem is, you don't know how you like your eggs!"<br /><br />Fast forward to the final scene, where we find our conflicted protagonist surrounded by plate after plate of eggs, prepared every way imaginable. We hear her make her proposal to the reporter who solved the problem---because she took the time to find out who she was---to discover exactly how she liked her eggs ( benedict, I believe).<br /><br />That said to say this---I need to find out how I like my eggs, and so do you!! As the bride of Christ, I don't want to run away from the altar anymore. I want to run, but in the right direction because I understand the way I'm made well enough to run with purpose. I want to run, with abandon, on the course that's marked out for me, instead of in blindfolded circles because I'm too afraid and cautious to crack a few eggs in order to find out who I'm meant to be.<br /><br /><strong><em>Do you see what this means---all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running--- and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished the race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed--that exhilarating finish in and with God--he could put up with anything along the way; cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faity, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>Hebrews 12:1-3</em></strong>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-75925963697288172772008-02-29T07:27:00.000-08:002008-02-29T07:28:07.703-08:00Education is not the filling of a bucket, but the lighting of a fire.<br /> --William Butler Yeats<br /><br />Over the past decade of homeschooling my tribe, this Yeats quote has become a source of comfort and inspiration for me when the going gets tough. If you’re like me, you have more than enough buckets to fill! Buckets come in all manner of shapes, sizes and disguises—menu planning and grocery shopping, vacuuming the carpet…again, walking the dog, weeding the garden, scrubbing the bathroom—you get the idea. Any number of things that need done on a regular basis in order for life to run more smoothly is like filling a bucket.<br /><br />The problem comes in when I view my homeschool as just another bucket needing filled. There have been dry seasons when I have looked at my children ( and my husband) as buckets—diligently doing my best to fill each one with good things—biblical truth, knowledge, healthy food, whatever their particular love language might happen to be. Honestly? It’s an uninspiring and exhausting effort. Human buckets are filled with holes and it seems that no matter how effectively I try to keep them filled, everything just leaks back out again.<br /><br />When I look back at these frustrating seasons, I can see a pattern that unfailingly repeats itself. It is the pattern of focusing on accomplishment and checking things off of my list. Math facts, book reports, measurable progress, tangible goals, portfolio fodder and standardized test scores are all drops of water aimed for my half-full bucket. It is during these times, when I’m trying to replicate public school in my dining room instead of resting in the knowledge that homeschool doesn’t have to look like school at home, that I question my reasons and effectiveness as a parent and a teacher.<br /><br />That is when God graciously reminds me that He is not in the bucket-filling business and being a full bucket is not what I am created for or who I am called to be. Filling buckets quenches fire, it’s frustrating, tedious work that generally leaves us feeling tired and frustrated. The alternative to filling buckets looks a little different. It’s messy, sometimes even chaotic. It involves inspiring my kids to want to learn for themselves and creating an environment in my home that prioritizes people and relationships over things….even clean laundry sometimes. It involves creating a hunger in my children for understanding God, the world He created, and the purpose He has for them. It means teaching them to ask all kinds of questions, even difficult ones, and then helping them find the answers—persisting until they do ,even when the answers aren’t neat, tidy or in the back of the book. It involves teaching them to ask “Why?” and being willing to say “Why not?”. It creates messes, but it also lays the foundation for memories and relationships.<br />As a homeschool mom, I believe I’m called to be a fire-starter instead of a bucket-filler. It’s my God-given role to facilitate something in each one of my children’s lives that isn’t meant to be held in a bucket ( or hidden under a bushel). It’s my role to encourage, support and inspire them to step into the roles that God created for them. They were designed to have lives that impact the Kingdom, lives that spread truth, passion, mercy and the love of Jesus like wildfire—lives that aren’t complete just because the bucket is full.<br /><br />Don’t get me wrong. Math facts and spelling rules are necessary, just like table manners and tying your shoes and two years of a foreign language if you want to get into most colleges. I am pro-academic excellence and higher education and mastering skill sets in all required subjects. I’m just saying that if I spend my life ladeling facts and information into my kids’ heads like an old-fashioned bucket brigade, then I’m missing the point.<br /> A bucket can be filled…and sit…full… until it stagnates. A fire starts with a tiny spark and then grows until it is a force to be reckoned with. Yes, it has the potential to be dangerous and destructive if it isn’t controlled, just like our sweet children. But fire, when it is well tended, has the capacity to bring energy, heat and light into a dying, cold, dark world. <br /><br />I don’t know about you, but in my homeschool I am ready to strike the match.wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-35023529065256822642008-01-22T19:31:00.000-08:002008-01-22T19:59:18.506-08:00It's a blog ,eat ,blog world....January. For a month that heralds new beginnings, it's my least favorite. There are so many exciting things that need attention, so many opportunities, but I feel like I'm stuck in my cave waiting for the spring thaw. Left to myself I would blog....read a bunch of blogs.....eat....read more blogs....eat ( chocolate)....have a cup of coffee to switch things up a bit......and read some more.<br /><br />This year is my fortieth. Not that this is incredibly significant to me, other than the fact that I think I should have made peace with myself by now and have some idea of how to settle in to life authentically. Honestly living. Engaging the culture I live in the way I am designed to do---with compassion, courtesy and grace, but without apology at the same time.<br /><br />It's been an interesting week full of paradoxes---worship and doubt, excitement and hesitation, confidence and uncertainty. As I am sorting through teenagers applying for early entry to college classes, finding community in my community, figuring out how to portfolio for the first time in our homeschool journey.....I'm feeling a bit like the new girl in class---wondering if I've got something stuck in my braces and if anyone is gonna ask me to sit at their lunch table.<br /><br />If I'm honest with myself I'll recognize that I've already been issued the invitation of a lifetime.<br /><em></em><br /><em>The people I love, I call to account---prod and correct and guide so that they'll live at their best. <strong>Up on your feet, then. About face! Run after God!'</strong></em><br /><em><strong>Look at me. I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear me call and open the door, I'll come right in and sit down to supper with you.</strong> Conquerors will sit alongside me at the head table, just as I, having conquered, took the place of honor at the side of my Father. That's my gift to the conquerors! Are your ears awake? Listen, listen to the Wind Words, the Spirit blowing through the churches.</em><br /><em></em><br />Way back in the day from high school latin class, I remember that Janus was the Roman god with two faces who stood in the door, looking ahead and looking behind. January fits that bill pretty well---I tend to look back on the things that have happened, that should have happened and wonder what's next. At this moment, I'm feeling that time is too precious to squander in my January funk.....I want to live a life of substance right now---not a life of glory, but a glorious life. One that resonates with truth, honesty, laughter, mistakes that have been learned from, compassion freely given---a life that is listening to the Wind Words....excuse me, there's Someone at the door. I'm pretty sure He's inviting me to sit at His lunch table.....it isn't with the popular crowd, but that makes it all the more significant....wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-68606104687981306832008-01-02T09:05:00.001-08:002008-01-02T09:22:15.734-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpAv5D74waYWniCk3HTKB1Ul-Iv5U6iNVq2Obnv7NN3C_kOdhDHwYrwafev-KnTn4E7JsPLWMLelfi__OjbijHyCqvwo-hRYgnPsHBNAXZLIZMAap3bdfHR5pB19Tbue3VJOZgrJ1CtJF/s1600-h/2007+card+017.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150929589561508098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVpAv5D74waYWniCk3HTKB1Ul-Iv5U6iNVq2Obnv7NN3C_kOdhDHwYrwafev-KnTn4E7JsPLWMLelfi__OjbijHyCqvwo-hRYgnPsHBNAXZLIZMAap3bdfHR5pB19Tbue3VJOZgrJ1CtJF/s320/2007+card+017.jpg" border="0" /></a> Singing in the rain<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp_gLkyMw_DglNASEQnV3N31TrWEOSfnpufZxrTCJob_4VwPtmRL9N7Xan-CGsnSfGMULIPZTxS9UU6Y_qLgPm-R5SFQThMMGqTQi0m4U4Jr9NIPKOrMF2MD3DF7S3rTEJgtBehDB2zmm/s1600-h/2007+card+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150929598151442706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp_gLkyMw_DglNASEQnV3N31TrWEOSfnpufZxrTCJob_4VwPtmRL9N7Xan-CGsnSfGMULIPZTxS9UU6Y_qLgPm-R5SFQThMMGqTQi0m4U4Jr9NIPKOrMF2MD3DF7S3rTEJgtBehDB2zmm/s320/2007+card+019.jpg" border="0" /></a> Jake saves the day<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE98D5N5zsNU0U_kA6fzWwQYTrX2mxyyiYYdcJ9yWFh3oIKKD5AInBluvEDhfWTs6Dz7zlZx4Ba_hMCu3cUq_bwASwZe11SRA5mkH9VIsM0P-XjUiqg6prtzybrub_TUm23bd7wiBcCoVA/s1600-h/2007+card+042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150929606741377314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE98D5N5zsNU0U_kA6fzWwQYTrX2mxyyiYYdcJ9yWFh3oIKKD5AInBluvEDhfWTs6Dz7zlZx4Ba_hMCu3cUq_bwASwZe11SRA5mkH9VIsM0P-XjUiqg6prtzybrub_TUm23bd7wiBcCoVA/s320/2007+card+042.jpg" border="0" /></a> Outer Banks<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLkIMJ54J-WhJZZKhrgmCOxtipJkAmjCfWybD8gGakWQep_qB7UffdTVYDkIoXa_Kiu65YWlAw2Xn77Ad1PtC5Obki5esZTBZlA45dC8JaCePHWvg8gemVcio7BWcipsSVl1lzYKcWEuq/s1600-h/2007+card+057.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150929615331311922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLkIMJ54J-WhJZZKhrgmCOxtipJkAmjCfWybD8gGakWQep_qB7UffdTVYDkIoXa_Kiu65YWlAw2Xn77Ad1PtC5Obki5esZTBZlA45dC8JaCePHWvg8gemVcio7BWcipsSVl1lzYKcWEuq/s320/2007+card+057.jpg" border="0" /></a> Audubon Swamp</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOqgsEd8yLwp5V03BhCWrzdtHFt6MuQEyWgRBsmXPxDBQu5CWCwksaiGzOzi2Enmp6C3-z_nGJ2Ln8PoaTpZrX6AMfP_vX3zU_UR5hAekWIn5fLxCeTjikmA1HLCuGEnsydFcsgU-ls6Q/s1600-h/2007+card+056.jpg"></a><br /><div align="center"><strong>Thanks for the memories, 2007!</strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-74971675298547521042008-01-02T08:20:00.000-08:002008-01-02T10:41:58.447-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsaL4ekPAhCr_BmrfuPUcnYz3oDhK49M1Gl0BfWazRQIRHZVP01pN0wmTNS1wCV4xcp_HdIiZccgsGfSYI5HPRxQAZLck7iagqrM18vV2ATqzh50QKNQiBPwVqdtFkAUCv1ImYjFYcR4F/s1600-h/PICT0012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150923357563961442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsaL4ekPAhCr_BmrfuPUcnYz3oDhK49M1Gl0BfWazRQIRHZVP01pN0wmTNS1wCV4xcp_HdIiZccgsGfSYI5HPRxQAZLck7iagqrM18vV2ATqzh50QKNQiBPwVqdtFkAUCv1ImYjFYcR4F/s320/PICT0012.JPG" border="0" /></a> Making noodles with dad for Thanksgiving<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxT_o4k9uB3QTtc8YgyPXia7DPBbq5_1ldem0DzkgHcIUiSBS8PN9UI5YoSMvfTx-240y78r61uRZJY2z9b9YibiZuMfNVaTVvOcCOlpjvb4Hyd5Ch6NdRGRvmUs54bAEhM0AaYvhp3KhR/s1600-h/2007+card+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150923374743830642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxT_o4k9uB3QTtc8YgyPXia7DPBbq5_1ldem0DzkgHcIUiSBS8PN9UI5YoSMvfTx-240y78r61uRZJY2z9b9YibiZuMfNVaTVvOcCOlpjvb4Hyd5Ch6NdRGRvmUs54bAEhM0AaYvhp3KhR/s320/2007+card+004.jpg" border="0" /></a> Metropolitan Museum of Art<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeNSFTpioHnfiv0MSEgzqSvroHzs0zc2qeRZ37reH5lVxbe2WL3kqaRyDMMfK8HxirJjHPwniKgAboSvbeFzMgFkGk7z-TkyeGcus-lIVPYxoyOkj_iHM1O3IOmRBYA-nXM9ETHDXpbbg/s1600-h/2007+card+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150923391923699842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoeNSFTpioHnfiv0MSEgzqSvroHzs0zc2qeRZ37reH5lVxbe2WL3kqaRyDMMfK8HxirJjHPwniKgAboSvbeFzMgFkGk7z-TkyeGcus-lIVPYxoyOkj_iHM1O3IOmRBYA-nXM9ETHDXpbbg/s320/2007+card+002.jpg" border="0" /></a> Christmas in NYC<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9tdzyFO2Zcpjab5LCTKhn7gKEWNVsQvjwXirxrXYmRAl3e7Uo85qVEefZKYQztSkRhLI8qi97tNkk55U2gdUBYary6z2FeJA7KCb82rrW12zehB2IXUXGxH7Pte4tSjwyz4uqxfT-WnR/s1600-h/2007+card+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150923426283438226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9tdzyFO2Zcpjab5LCTKhn7gKEWNVsQvjwXirxrXYmRAl3e7Uo85qVEefZKYQztSkRhLI8qi97tNkk55U2gdUBYary6z2FeJA7KCb82rrW12zehB2IXUXGxH7Pte4tSjwyz4uqxfT-WnR/s320/2007+card+006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Times Square<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHEAA2bNcDwBKlclvDCN1GNIphKTGsb5XC3wh2kdQhxyxIyayiAK3LIKIov1cerS2ycaKQ-SuVmmWtQd6IqMecfmtTp0hkR5_KaHDvYDt560xhA1rnv7umHG5cID8UHJOHs6sQNoTEcON/s1600-h/2007+card+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150923443463307426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHEAA2bNcDwBKlclvDCN1GNIphKTGsb5XC3wh2kdQhxyxIyayiAK3LIKIov1cerS2ycaKQ-SuVmmWtQd6IqMecfmtTp0hkR5_KaHDvYDt560xhA1rnv7umHG5cID8UHJOHs6sQNoTEcON/s320/2007+card+012.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ice skating at Bryant Park<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPdxOoN5FM-BuvaneIHck32BHK9ig4IMPUmpVobWaq-SN1FGVWL4XMdoxpNXdGY7n0yM28K9Z0c-sWj9LID6cWgxL9I3sX5VMpgH1FFPscrFuISzm0cyLTjPVlX3drktfLl9evMxgOGda/s1600-h/zoo+fourth+044.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150921704001552466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPdxOoN5FM-BuvaneIHck32BHK9ig4IMPUmpVobWaq-SN1FGVWL4XMdoxpNXdGY7n0yM28K9Z0c-sWj9LID6cWgxL9I3sX5VMpgH1FFPscrFuISzm0cyLTjPVlX3drktfLl9evMxgOGda/s320/zoo+fourth+044.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><em><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;">Hello 2008!</span></em><br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"></span></em><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;">As excited as I am by the feeling of a fresh new start every January, you'd think that I would remember I get one every day.....<em>Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.<strong>They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness!" </strong>Lamentations 3:22-23 exclamation point, mine.</em></span><br /><br /><br /><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"></span></em><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Some ladies I enjoy on a homeschool message board that I frequent way too often inspired me to choose a word to focus on for this upcoming year. I chose grace. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Grace is usually defined as "unmerited favor". I am not the queen of dispensing unmerited favor....I tend to give love in return, to offer praise for a job well done, to respond in kind. This year I want to freely give, to be the person who loves in spite of circumstances, hurtful words or bad attitudes. I want to be an example to my children of how to love my husband, them, my parents and my neighbors without a motive or agenda. My desire is that I'd be more giving to those I live with and love the most than I am to strangers....in short, I really want to put my best face forward where it really counts---in the trenches where I tend to be most lax about what people think.</span></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"><strong>I want to be a reflection of the lavish grace that has been poured out on my life by a beautiful Saviour who knows no boundaries.....my heart is to have that same grace for others this year--in my words, my actions, my responses and my offerings.</strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"><strong></strong></span> </div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">2007 was a full year, full of joy and hope and a few disappointments and losses. I am determined to focus on those things that are beautiful, worthy of praise and of good report...while honoring the sad things without being consumed by them. With that in mind, I'm looking back at the past year with thanks and looking forward to all that God has in store on the threshold of this new year.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055985081539769173.post-8740359472637553222007-10-23T16:59:00.000-07:002007-10-23T17:15:30.733-07:00Olympics....Homer style<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfKYSXfGSeN_NRvUWaxmzDR3m5Fiy8bsGXQRBlCeR9pittt0f8NNDUoX3BTCxO6ein0x9vIHKWzCW-v0lCkwmbMMLdNxvMcUeo4O5wUYxYZJ4VZE935dR2pDa1Kt-r4MtduvOxD9SNg3a/s1600-h/olympics+021.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124690022354846514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfKYSXfGSeN_NRvUWaxmzDR3m5Fiy8bsGXQRBlCeR9pittt0f8NNDUoX3BTCxO6ein0x9vIHKWzCW-v0lCkwmbMMLdNxvMcUeo4O5wUYxYZJ4VZE935dR2pDa1Kt-r4MtduvOxD9SNg3a/s320/olympics+021.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd7IUGFYFysvVeq0kBysPURJPPmFSTuAZgNDMtfL_WTyJ5o6yvyXVT6nrtGhL-XnJVnetxUQKFZkMVVjBohJul1zc25t8-adyYdSW2sW-Xw4GeMd1u6HT9Iz403uvUvB44RIYSAhw9BrE/s1600-h/olympics+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124690030944781122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd7IUGFYFysvVeq0kBysPURJPPmFSTuAZgNDMtfL_WTyJ5o6yvyXVT6nrtGhL-XnJVnetxUQKFZkMVVjBohJul1zc25t8-adyYdSW2sW-Xw4GeMd1u6HT9Iz403uvUvB44RIYSAhw9BrE/s320/olympics+028.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsIA7Ip9HO5NQ7Gj5zD8S61hYmVDh8qkdPlsSzLW8BLRXvzeBwUziPU7_mSpSeof5OXPpo3_aWyCY33Y6ZcrPWgH5CWQ8BxBbexhyphenhyphenn2Cl95ayy7lsPapl4uTnhALhE2-vqiQV7eXtEgZH/s1600-h/olympics+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124690035239748434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsIA7Ip9HO5NQ7Gj5zD8S61hYmVDh8qkdPlsSzLW8BLRXvzeBwUziPU7_mSpSeof5OXPpo3_aWyCY33Y6ZcrPWgH5CWQ8BxBbexhyphenhyphenn2Cl95ayy7lsPapl4uTnhALhE2-vqiQV7eXtEgZH/s320/olympics+029.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidv7MMNnfrtqQS01XS4jSv7WdTrk39PBMk7xldAPjQ_CfchwnA4QBkveYkhggdpVPNIxEGlJ8r7YevzkFH3d6r_pPzihFdM5BtQT0MQsCweY-u6Z2elmkogGLCKROnwAKtlHAGrtmsA2cq/s1600-h/olympics+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124690043829683042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidv7MMNnfrtqQS01XS4jSv7WdTrk39PBMk7xldAPjQ_CfchwnA4QBkveYkhggdpVPNIxEGlJ8r7YevzkFH3d6r_pPzihFdM5BtQT0MQsCweY-u6Z2elmkogGLCKROnwAKtlHAGrtmsA2cq/s320/olympics+030.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPRWBBV9YWST1X_R4Pby-9pDVkVXCTROhnKVC7JY5hpCQTKAa7nd6yXmKq2x5yOEVSGebkpuOFZqL5TC5-kVNr-6geyiQ_bSb7Q0ssrcsWAwRjAG9v2fxyIl6NzrO_uGIp0od8516FhBx/s1600-h/olympics+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124690048124650354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPRWBBV9YWST1X_R4Pby-9pDVkVXCTROhnKVC7JY5hpCQTKAa7nd6yXmKq2x5yOEVSGebkpuOFZqL5TC5-kVNr-6geyiQ_bSb7Q0ssrcsWAwRjAG9v2fxyIl6NzrO_uGIp0od8516FhBx/s320/olympics+031.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The youngers recently completed <em>Homer Price </em>as one of their studies for <strong>Beyond Five in A Row. </strong>Usually, we end a unit and have a review or a special dinner, but we didn't really *do* anything when we finished our time in Centerburg.....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>However, the oldest, who finished with Beyond and FIAR some time ago, is in an ancient history cooperative class. These boys are unearthing ancient Greece right now, and decided to host a day of Olympic games for their younger siblings. After the opening procession, we were visited by several Greek athletes before the opening ceremony. We then competed in world class olympic events ( the wrestling got a little out of hand in my family :-/) that would have made Homer, Uncle Ulysses and Uncle Telemachus proud.....Say! If only we'd had some doughnuts!</div>wordygirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06486482607707034387noreply@blogger.com0