Weary

How odd that life can be so difficult; as a Christian, shouldn't I be Joyful in all situations? Giddy with the Love of God? Well, I am not. I am tired. My bones ache with a weariness deeper than pain, a fatigue of the heart as well as the body. My desire is to rise up in the life I am called to live, sometimes the rising up is more difficult than others, today seems to be one of those times. I do not desire to be a martyr, don't want to be remembered as one who suffered for the cause. My desire is to live my life, my way, and have God say it was His Plan. But really, how do we know His Plan? How can I be sure I am suffering for His Glory and not my own? Oh yea, I said I did not want to suffer, or did I?  The adulation one receives for doing a hard thing can be intoxicating. Praise and being told you are an inspiration to many can be addictive. It is not all that hard to humbly assure the praiser that really I am not all that worthy; I am just doing the job I have been given. And, I am, doing the job I have been given. Nights like tonight cause me to wonder, "Am I really supposed to be doing this job?" Do I hold on to it because it is the RIGHT THING or because I am too cowardly to stand up and say, "You know what? I should not be doing this." If this "calling" is hurting the rest of my family, my own mental and physical health, is it what God WANTS me to be doing? If it were a case of merely my suffering for the greater good of others that would be an easy question to answer, despite the challenge, I want to do hard things for my God. What I don't want is to keep doing a job that is meant for someone else. Am I willing to remove my hand to let God show His? Or, do I keep pressing in, waiting for His Hand to show me a better way to continue on? I do not want to be a coward, either by continuing on this path or by admitting I am weak and am walking in shoes not meant for my feet. How do I hear God?
I love my little boys, like I have loved all my sons. I want them to have the very best life possible. I am not convinced our home is that very best. I know it is not the best for my husband or my teenage son. I raised four sons to men basically on my own. I should be able to do it again with only two. If this truly were God, would it be so absolutely difficult every day of our lives. Would I not have trained the younger one by now that screaming I hate you and spitting at me is not a good thing? After four years surely I should have been a good enough parent that I could take one small child for milk and eggs and not have the store manager correct that child twice, only to have him run out of the store into a busy parking lot? What kind of parent/grandparent am I? Now, am I slobbering in self pity? Or, is this real frustration? And fear? I need counsel. The kind and supportive lady, one child's therapist, keeps looking me in the eyes and  gently reassuring me that, I can do this. I do not need a cheerleader, don't get me wrong, I really like her and she is helpful. But, I do not believe she understands the depth of dysfunction that we walk in. I am not sure this rant is meant to be published. Certainly is not my usual ramble of humor and spiritual quips. Definitely not posting the link on Facebook. If any of my true followers, all two of you, have any input or thoughts I would love to hear from you. I do know I need to talk to a pastor. I know God has a Grand Plan, I know it like I know my name...(no smart comments) it is other folks whose names I forget. But every option open to us, and they are few, has real and major flaws. Please pray for me, for us. For my teen, my husband, and my precious little boys.

Howling

Wind whines and whirls outside my window, reminding one of a snarling dragon circling and circling his prey. Even the six inches of insulation and super snug Anderson windows can't keep out the menacing, mocking of the angry gales. Inside I sit on my chair, even the dog senses the threat, completely out of character she limps up and forces a spot for herself at my side. Her head on the arm of the chair she stares out into the gray morning keeping a quiet watch all the time hip pressed to hip at my side, like me taking comfort in the nearness of a loyal friend. Both of us slower and creakier than an earlier time but still, though often grudgingly, embracing the chores laid before us at this winter season of life. I suppose for me it is only a mid autumn as far as age, but today in body and spirit, my bones and heart feel the heavy chill of winter and its formidable darkness. Remorse seeps in as I pine for an warmer sunnier countenance; I plead for a lighter heart and more limber joints. My desire is to laugh at the days ahead and to be confident in the sustenance of my Lord.

The above photo shows the brilliance of the morning sun as it shines through a frozen landscape. My prayer today is that the Light of the Lord will break into my cold tired heart and allow the beauty of the day, of my life, of my salvation to illuminate my path, warming my frozen ambition into activity and purpose; lifting me out of my comfortable lazy chair, taking up the mantle placed upon me with excitement and joy, knowing that my living even what I cannot see or sense will produce in myself and those around me a Holy Garden that will nourish and sustain.

breathing

Life, the inhaling and exhaling oxygen and other related gases; a fist sized muscle contacting rhythmically pumping the fluids of life to waiting appendages and organs. Humans, the most complex living organism on the planet Earth. Organically speaking. If only it were all that simple. Inhaling and exhaling. At times this bare minimum can become the equivalent of climbing Everest. Not that I have or ever will have the desire to experience that hefty feat. I began this little essay months ago. At the time thought it trite and let it lie in the draft pile. Wishing to write a few words about the holiday, and other events I discovered the opening sentences a bit intriguing. Though now the day's events have taken their toll and my eyes and are begging me to put them and the rest of my humanness to bed. I must comply. I will leave this little teaser hoping to get back to it before too many more days pass. So that being typed, Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night.

Day in the City

Well not really, unless you consider Gettysburg PA a city; but for a Drew and I it was a day on the town and the battlefield. But that is for later. Maybe way later as fatigue from the day's adventure is taking it's toll. Sure hope I wake up hungry at some point since I brought home from the restaurant an amazing looking piece of pecan pie. But for now alas, I must close my eyes. Dang, really wanted to memorialize this day.

Will

Will is a horse; Will is Jeremiah's horse. Will is a very large horse. Will is so large that I am always impressed, always, every time I see him, impressed with his immense mass. I walk into his stall five days a week , sometimes more. Every time I am amazed at is height and bulk. Each time I stand beside him and stroke his neck or scratch his back I am grateful he is also a very kind horse. He will quietly drop his head so I can slip his halter over his ears, which is necessary since he stands six feet tall at the neck; so his head towers far above mine.
When I walk past him in the run he turns and follows my steps with his eyes, sometimes lumbering along behind just to see what I am up to. He is always polite, waiting patiently for his hay or his three gallon bucket of heavy sweet feed laced with high fat pellets and expensive joint powder. Sadly our gentle giant suffers from multiple joint ailments. The Cosequin powder and monthly injections keep him sound and able to carry his boy across the sand and over the rails.
The bond between the boy and the horse shines in the eyes of the big bay. I am so thankful God brought Will to our family, to my son. He has taught me much about the heart of a horse and about the care of our God. Once frightened and anxious slowly both Will and Jer learned to trust respect one another. Looking back I'm not sure who was more afraid of who. Both tested the other. Jer with his lack of skill and Will with a twisting buck that sent this mother to her knees. Still they refused to give in or give up.
Ribbons have been won and tears have been shed. In the end the two have strengthened own resolve to overcome my toughest hurdles, the ones I lay for myself.
As the horse and the boy had to conquer their inner fears to become together triumphant, Lord help me to allow you to touch my heart and lead to me into victory.

past due

Should be in bed. should have taken a shower. should have been a nicer person today. should have spent more time outside, maybe even weeded something. should have probably gone to the bathroom before I started typing. should have poured myself a smaller glass of wine. should have made that list of things I need to do today, the one I told myself to write up several weeks ago. should have finished the thank you notes to people who did nice stuff for us after my dad died. Instead, I sit here doing nothing, needing to pee and go to bed; too lazy to get up, or maybe to stiff to move.
Even so, life is good, God is great, and I like my wine chilled.

Outside NOW!!!

Can't a girl even enjoy a beer? Globe broken off bedroom light, conveniently snagged from the top bunk, with a plastic coat hanger, plastic for safety. Package of Sponge Bob single serving Mac n Cheese scattered over an entertainment center and wooden floor laden with Thomas the Train puzzle pieces, makes for a challenging clean up should anyone be wondering. Hose turned on outside of the barn whilst Ammie is feeding horses inside the barn, river running into the barn across the dirt floor. No limes for the Corona I decide is required. "Get ur hands OUT OF your pants." for the third time. Hears water spigot turning on around the corner out of sight, God graciously afflicted this particular faucet with a high pitched squeally squeak. K..... get out of the garden. D..... clean that potting soil off the sidewalk. Use your high lift if you have to. Get your hands out of your underwear. Maybe you should use a bigger high lift. Just saying. Wonder if my potatoes boiled over yet. So need the grace of God and limes

What happened to the rest of the pictures

So why did the Blogger ap cut off half of my picture? Huh! Not happy...

Abbi n Jack

No longer the two youngest grandchildren, well, Abbi is still in the youngest two club. But Jack's position has been usurped by a younger sibling, one Finnegan Nehemiah. Now number four top down and 3 bottom up in the pecking order, he is pretty darn near the middle, as in the middle as you can be with an even number of six. Chloe being a full two years old plus five months she could be considered a co-middle. Abbi miss next to the youngest, spent the day with Ammie and DrewAllen, next to the oldest, or numbie two as he is sometimes affectionately referred to. Oops, ended a sentence with a preposition. Dear Cinderali was here from a little after nine until 2:30 when she knocked on Ammie's bedroom door offering a cup of strong black coffee and a quick synopsis of the hour n half of the part of the day I was unconscious during, wanted to say "for" but that would have ended another sentence with a preposition. Can't have too much of that. DrewAllen and I enjoyed the company of number five grandchild. Though I'm sure she was a bit bored by the lack of entertainment we provided; she was polite and did not yawn openly in our presence.
Ammie is ready for bed. Wake up time comes way to early on school days. Thanks Abbi for coming to visit. Come again soon

First Day of Kindergarten

Here we have it; Tuesday was Kaleb's first day of big boy school. The morning circus has begun. Up and out the door by 7:20AM, drop off Jer and Kaleb by 7:50. Back home; Monday, Wednesday,and Friday DrewAllen has to be at preschool by 9:00. So why 'n the heck am I trying to write at 7:03.... Gotta fly.. Or stumble to the car.

pperfect child disturbed adult

I've been pondering lately this notion that many modern parents have bought into; the idea that good parents should create perfect childhood experiences and environments for their children. Bests schools, perfect teeth, stylish clothing, cool cell phones, iPods, iPads, a plethora of after school activities, entertaining or exotic vacations. Never ending supply of personal preferences in food and beverages. Has all this lavishing kid-centered doting birthed a generation of better kids? Or, have we collectively as a society instructed our children that they owe nothing and deserve everything?

Nuisance Critters

So, sittin' on the back porch sipping lukewarm coffee, hoping my presence prevents any real injury one to  the other of small persons playing/arguing in the back yard. Somehow that sentence makes no sense, and I do not know how to fix it and still have it say what I wish it to.

According to my cadet WCO son Canadian Geese are now considered "Nuisance Creatures" in the state of Pennsylvania, similar to the groundhog. We have all been to that pristine pond or lake that appears so lovely until you try and hike the perimeter; only to find your self racing to find warm water and a rag to clean the slimy goo off of your shoes. Apparently at some point since the above picture was taken many of the black and white birds migrated from Canada and decided to stay south of our northern border . Please consider the fact, well known in most public circles, that my memory is not the best:, so my recollection of  the details of the my conversation about the geese may be sketchy. I don't think they can be hunted year round like the groundhog, at least not without the proper water fowl stamp. So before you decide to go out and bag a passel of them check out the PA Game Commission website for all the facts. Either way the fond memories of my childhood remain, all the while I am more than willing to acknowledge that not all that was, still is.

And, I am thinking that is true of far more in life than Canadian Geese. So much more to be added, but an electronic chirping coming from the kitchen alerts me to refrigerator invaders, summoning me inside to survey the carnage I most likely will find on the floor....

The Winds of August

Blogging, something some do for fun, some to put public voice to their chosen cause or passion, some because they want to ad life and color to an otherwise humdrum existence . So, what would provoke me to put letters on a screen, words onto the computer generated paper of today; my thoughts or experiences sent into cyber eternity to be viewed or worse ignored  by family, friends, and strangers?
    If only I could keep after it well enough to satisfy the writer buried, possibly crushed under the weight of neglect, that writer's voice that has cried out to be acknowledged, to be heard, or to have the motivation to even speak. So long ignored that the very fingers pecking out the words do not recognize the noise they are asked to record.
   Even now, with blank mind and weary heart I seek to find the person I lost. or forgot, or allowed to slip away. Or perhaps. the savior has so rattled my soul that that I do not recognize the new creature in the mirror. Could it be that the old must die for the new to be born? Basic Gospel 101 has been the forest I have missed for my consternation with that silly old tree?
    On this side of heaven I now walk as an earthly orphan, yes redeemed for the glory of the Heavenly Father, but fatherless in my flesh. So many lessons, so much wretchedness this month of August. The emptiness of  anxiety echoes off of my cavernous heartache, yearning for clarity of mind and increased strength of bones. Of course i know that I possess all I could ask or imagine, so perhaps it is my imagination that needs to be stretched, expanded. My vision for the uncertain and a confidence that my own weak flesh and soul can be used by the creator not because of my abilities or brilliance but because His plans cannot be thwarted.

Another day another dollar

Just reread my last post. Should repost; it totally encouraged me. Rough couple days...kid wise anyways; kinda make life in general more challenging when chaos abounds. Everyone gets a little cranky. I'm determined to recommit my focus on the freedom of the cross and developing a more specific and purposeful prayer life. Help me Jesus.

posted from Bloggeroid

Muffin Man

Ccc
[image_0]

Kind of a rough night. Boys seemed quite full of themselves, and several other creatures too...maybe a combination of wolf, monkey, and a squawking blue jay. All is finally quiet; teenager, out of sorts hubby, and even the dogs are at rest. Not even any snoring or scratching tonight. When I think on the whole canvas of my colorful life I feel blessed, content, filled with a deep resonating joy. Its all the abrasive fragments, the taken out of sovereign context particulars, that set my teeth on edge and pick at the scabby sores of my unsanctified sin. But for now I will take this momentary peace as evidence of my saviors love and His redemptive work that makes me worthy of His Father's love.

posted from Bloggeroid

On the Porch

Boys are playing, not necessarily obeying....normal, I guess. Now we are sharing a cushioned patio chair, because of course they were made for three. Swollen glands making me feel wimpy and weak. Fed kids a combination of corn dogs, cereal, and whole wheat English muffins with peanut butter and Nutella. One added jelly to his. For dessert they capped off the evening of fine dining with a pair of mini popsicles. Yep, well cared are they.
Number one, upset because I wouldn't drive him to the neighbor's to play, threatened to walk since he and his brother knew the way. No sooner had the pompous threat fell from his haughty lips than the fire sirens began to squall. Front door slammed, pretty sure hes not going anywhere.

An occasional breeze lightens the humidity and brings a pleasant peace to my resting spot. Grazing horses in the pasture before me remind me of chores yet to be done. Far away rumbles hint of a possible much needed shower. If only it was always this simple....but then it can be if we allow it. If my eyes are on the Lord than His Breath will be upon my face. His Grace ever before me and His peace my Mainstay. Lord take my rebellious posture and gently readjust my focus so it is You alone I see.

Strange noises from inside, the dragging of a wooden chair across hard oak floors indicate my rest has been suspended...let grace abound.

Two tickets To Paradise or Being Mom

butter fingers

So I see a tiny finger reach behind my almost wilting jug pitcher of flowers left from Easter; they dip into the soft room temperature butter, retrieving a tablespoon sized glob. Doggedly picking at my own dinner I pretend not to notice. Several minutes later the lad proudly announces and shows off, "look at my butter." Top side of his whole grain peanut butter n jelly glistening in the evening sun. I smile.

Long, Long time ago....

 
So I guess its been a while (or awhile?)  since I recorded any thoughts or pecked out any meaningful banter. Multiple problems could be the cause; my computer (laptop) is either missing has sticking keys representing all the important letters and functions. Like "enter" sticks. (.) missing key. (y) sticks and is loose. (T) sticks. (G) not sure what its problem is, doesn't always work. Whine, whine, whine. Yep, I could use the old IPad, except it and blogger are not real friendly and the app is worse. Additionally, after all me years using this forum some inconsiderate geek redesigned the whole shabang...confusing me every time I try and log in or access my stuff. I suppose if I spent more time using the site I might become accustomed and then have one less excuse. But technology changes baffle me. I think I was more computer savvy 15 years ago than now.

Life at the Kimmel Ranch has never been this exciting, well, that probably is not a true statement if I gave it any real thought. The early years did have a character all their own; either I have chosen to forget or like many events that happened more than ten minutes ago its just gone with  no recovery option. If I ponder long and hard enough I can remember finding 22 shells clanging around in the dryer, or all the hair burnt off Ned's cute little 5year old face...the smell of burning hair is quite the memory trigger. Slaughter rock, and the first day of trout season still make me smile. Allen going to the emergency room with half the meat from his elbow lost in the driveway somewhere. Two young boys who used yellow shed paint to decorate our ancient blazer. Faded burgundy and canary yellow...well not quite canary, more like egg yolk. Which by the way reminds me I should put the colored eggs in the fridge. My mom always left them out on the table for a few days decoratively arranged in a real straw Easter basket. But so many things make us sick and kill us that never did back in he day, I'm afraid boiled eggs that have set out might be a new killer. Our house was 58 degrees this morning when we woke up, that's not much warmer than the refrigerator anyhow. But still, why risk it. Course Kaleb tried to eat one shell and all this afternoon. Jer told him the shells would cut up his stomach. Don't think that's true, just some way for Jer to torture Kaleb. Kind of like a big brother would do to a little brother, which of course Kaleb is not, to Jer. Jer is the uncle. Ask him.

Do not be fulled by he cute picture of the two boys sweetly sharing the contents of their Easter Buckets. I am pretty sure they a are making sure they got all the good stuff and didn't leave any of it for the littles. You know, younger sister of cousins. Course I'm confident  Abbi's papa could take 'em, DrewAllen and Kaleb.

Now for the real reason my blog entries are so far and few between, utter exhaustion, which has just overtaken my eyes and fingers. Pushing the silly "y" key multiple times and plum wore me out.

And the excitement at the ranch has finally all fallen asleep.  Too much easter with a small "e" Can never get enough of the Savior Jesus who is the real Easter with the big "E"

warning will be published without proofreading...

Laid Back.

Laid Back, watching PBS... staring at Facebook, enjoying the need to do nothing. I am sleepy but not weary; tired but not exhausted, for tonight, and this is a good thing. Soon the demands of daily responsibilities will return and I will again be hard pressed, yet not undone. My limits will be stretched and my arms will ache. My heart will pound with both joy and anguish. I will be found breathless and by profound awe my breath will be vacuumed from my lungs. Days filled with impossible obstacles will be capped by nights of small victories. Small fingers leave their prints on my soul and send that antique vase crashing to the floor. I will long for heaven yet clench the dirt of this tight in arthritic fists. I will spank, and I will squeeze tightly. I will exhort and in my frailty I will sometimes rip apart what o have struggled to build. I will cry out for grace and venture out uncovered. Lord, go on ahead. Prepare my way. Open my eyes and heart to see and chose the path you have laid.

Politics, religion, and real life

Gov Huckabee has a few of the Republic presidential candidates on some kind of extended special. Drew put Fox News on earlier before he promptly slipped into snoredome. Because I was busy searching mindless info on the iPad, I paid no attention. Now that I realize what is on and that I have the option to change the channel unnoticed, I feel almost guilty for not watching. I do not want to be one of the ignorant uniformed...but my desire to be entertained, distracted, swept away from the poignantly sharp grind of the daily by and by. A variety of child amusement devices litter the floor. From my perch dirty dishes, leftovers, and unshelved groceries stand defiantly on the granite countertop. My lovely home though not in complete disarray is still moderately cluttered. My vain attempts to ignore the wimpering and wailing coming from down the hall as Jer coaxes my crazy wild sweet baby boys into nighttime slumber, do not prevent a gnawing ball of guilt from twisting my guts and clawing at my weary heart. Bridge ...kids asleep. I agree to watch whatever movie Jer chooses. DrewAllen, not asleep, joins. Just watched "mr popper's penguins" with Jer n drew. But not really cause they fell asleep. DrewAllen apparently not asleep joined me. Because I'm a sucker for a story, any story once began must be finished. Some like the song that never ends, make a grandma a mama again. And I cannot say I love it everyday...or even most days. But the sweet bitter ache in my soul, make it worth it. Whether is the tiny gently kisses of a little boy or the obnoxious snoring of a half manchild, I am a blessed woman.  Guess I left out the region part....that's maybe because it is not a part but the all; and not religion but life. Breathing in and breathing out the very spirit of God.

Twas the night before tomorrow.

It's hard to imagine what life was like then When the evening was peaceful, quiet and free. Before pull ups and sippy cups had to be bought. Before Tractors, and trains, hot wheels and games Littered the hardwood, the carpet, the stairs. When no one crept into my bed in the night Whimpering and whining that they'd suffered a fright. Seems long ago, that my life was my own. My comings and goings were were all about me, And sometimes my husband and our family.... My heart has been challenged and stretched open wide Turns out when you say, "jesus, i give you my life." He takes it And molds it As He sees is best. The Fathers's hand can be felt every day Touching my heart and making it new. The fingers he uses are sticky and small They create lovely drawings on couches and walls. I'm grateful and thankful And blessed beyond measure. For as He has promised He's given great treasure.

Futile or Feudal

I have heard it said that the best way to write is to just write; to begin. I opened my computer 20-30 minutes or so...ago. (is that grammatically correct?) Anyways, torn between going beyond my perfunctory devotional reading, to Bible reading and prayer, I bounced up and down of my chair wiping a bum, closing the refrigerator door, letting the dog out...then back in, and generally being distracted as I watched the kitchen clock tick away my precious time, and nothing I was supposed to do or wanted to do was getting accomplished. So, here I sit, staring at that clock knowing I should have slipped out of my pajamas and into some form of real clothes. I should be ready for my official 8:00 start time, never mind that I woke, no was awoken before 6:30 (about 15 minutes after I hit "ignore" on my alarm) by a very grumpy 3 year old, what is it about 3 year olds and grumpy Audra B? Though he feigned affection, his little fists and elbows pounded away at my mummified flesh demanding I open "his" bathroom door...mind you my bathroom door was open and only a few baby steps away. Threats to spank is cute chubby bottom fell on deaf ears as he continued to snuggle and pound away. My groggy selfish mind, still muddling over what was being asked of me and its longing to drift back into and unconscious oblivion, fought to form some plan of action, or inaction.

Now, with only seven short minutes left, chaos is brewing in the kitchen, and only one of the chaos creators is even awake. An empty, grateful, egg carton glides off the bar and across the hard wood. An unidentified crash can be heard as a devilishly grinning face peers around the stainless steel garbage can to see if I am catching this misbehavior.

Spotted my morning barn hand strolling past the sun room windows, time for real clothes and moving body parts. I hear Sandy hollering a DA to unlock the door, "No!" he hollers back.
Alas, this queen must begin her daily reign. Lord please help her serve joyfully in both the mundane and the mighty.

Colored Glass

The following was written for my ladies christmas party to be given with a tiny glass ornament,

Colored Glass

THen the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground,

and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life;

and man became a living being.Genesis 2:7

So many things I want to share with my dear sisters. I am deeply grieved that I cannot be with you this evening. My God is so amazing, so gentle, so kind, so generous, so faithful. How I could go on and on. I found these glass ornaments and knew they were what I was to bring to this table of friends, but unaware of what He would set on my heart to share. Even as late as this morning I was unsure. I was prodded to search “Colored Glass” on the Internet. Thinking that would not turn up a productive search, I believed GOD would meet me, as He always does. I skimmed down through the search results until I stumbled upon this short article. Three things stood out to me.

1. Stained or colored glass is known for its “utility and beauty.”

2. Glass is made of sand and wood ash

3. A beautiful creation is sometime given its shape as the breath of a man is blown into the unformed to create the formed.

1 Stained-glass windows have been admired for their utility and beauty since ancient Rome, when pieces of colored glass were assembled into patterned window frames. In Europe, the art of stained glass reached its height between 1150 and 1500, when magnificent windows were created for great cathedrals…. "Inestimable beauty.”

2. The basic ingredients for making glass ARE SAND AND WOOD ASH (potash). The mixture is melted into liquid which, when cooled, becomes glass. To color the glass, certain powdered metals are added to the mixture while the glass is still molten

3. Molten glass can be BLOWN into a sausage SHAPE

Mankind was created as a the living God blew His own Holy breath into mere dirt, (sand?) resulting in a living being He said was GOOD, BEAUTIFUL, HIS OWN. May we be known as His living hand blown creations, creatures of “inestimable beauty…for their utility.” Useful and beautiful.

As we look at these simple ornaments may we remember how we were created and that we are purposed to be both useful and beautiful.

at it again

Two little boys, one scaling drawer pulls and climbing on the counter, one singing along with the Wonder Pets; second child tho innocent now, narrowly avoided spilling a half a cup of milk onto the table and down to the floor...
In most homes with preschoolers, The special time occurs any time after 4:00 PM and before they fall unconscious at the end of the days misadventures. A variety of titles have been assigned this exciting time segment. So as to be civil, not vulgar or abrasive, for the purpose of this writing. I have decided on the The Special Time.

The writing moment has passed. Dinner time, shower time, driving around for an hour to encourage an early nod out. The nodding did not happen. Earlier in the week a few errands after dinner sent them both into premature dreamland after only 45 minutes or so. Disappointed and defeated pappy and I wound up the drive and into the garage. The non-stop chatter from the booster seat in the rear grating on our wearing nerves like iodine on an open wound. Leaping out of the back seat and bounding up the stairs and into the house the older finally comes to a sliding twisting stop at the end of the hall. Dropping into our respective dining room chairs we announce, "Ten minutes till bedtime." At least that much time is needed to lick our wounds and gain strength for the last big push, driving the wee tyrants into bed and hopefully sleep and the end of Special Time. Two bathroom trips each, several drinks of water, one small green tractor sailing across the room, three stories, and a new night light later silence slowly slips into the nursery, otherwise known as my library.

Drew asleep in my chair now, and me settled stiffly into the ugly, worn, stuffing leaking, lump of a chair by the crib; we wait for the call announcing the return of our teenage basket ball player. A trip to town for Dad and my attempting to peck out some sort of witty conclusion for this rambling essay, the day comes to and end. I am thankful for my partner and the opportunity to serve the Lord in ways that seem beyond my means and abilities. In this He shows Himself strong and I am blessed.

Now this is Different

First attempt to write on my I Pad. Jer put this blogger app on it and I would like it a whole lot better if I could figure out how to get it to flip to the long side, like keyboard wise.
Kids are sleeping, Jer doing homework, I assume. Drew is still out farming, shelling corn. I'm thinking I should take these furball hacking lungs and put them to bed. Took a sick day today, well a half day I guess. Does a mom ever really get a whole sick day? I think not. Wow! Thought I could maybe insert a picture, not that good yet. But when you choose the photo button cool stuff happens. So do I publish these few random meaningless thoughts? Sure, why not. Whole world may as well know my husband and son got me an I Pad for my birthday. Turning 53 must be a big deal. Maybe by 54 I will have figured out how to use it.

long days night

Kicking beside me the young lad lies, fighting the nodding that keeps tempting his eyes.
I wonder again as his caniption continues,
If I can be dreamin' by the 11:00 news.
Pajamas removed but pull up intact,
I am certain for sure it isn't an act,
The singing, the kicking, the laughing and the spitting,
Are assuredly, purposely designed by my God
Strengthening my character so I'll not be a fraud.
Presenting my life as the gospel alive.
So others might know we can do more than survive.
Through the Cross our lives become adventures worth living.
we are now one with a Love that keeps giving.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

beyond the fence

Sitting on the back porch; thick green vegetation rustles above and beyond the fence. A fence meant to contain more than exclude stands snug against the dense wood. Three black mares doze in the damp heat, ears and tails flicking at the pesky flies. A black and white filly imitates her older lazier barnmates, though dozing quickly becomes snoring ad youthful innocence overcomes older wiser wariness.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

alone....for once

I wish I could figure out how to upload photos from my phone using this blogger/Droid app. Maybe if I wasn't so cheap and broke down and purchased an application I would get one I could use...though if I paid money for and and still couldn't upload then I might more frustrated yet. But, on a day like today it will take more than a silly electronic devise to to rock my boat. For sure, as I am home ALONE! I know you may be tempted to think I'm dreaming or hallucinating, or dreaming, or that I finally drifted over the edge. But nope, its true. Drew is at a political meeting (I love saying that). Jer is at a 4H meeting and my wonderful, adorable, mildly manic grandsons are at Amma's house, for the night. Until tomorrow. Night.
And me, I'm doing nothing, absolutely nothing. No TV. No book. Just me and my favorite chair. Only sounds are a clock ticking and an occasional scratching moaning noise from one of the dogs....wait that may be the refrigerator running, should I go catch it? Haha, I crack myself up. Ahhhh, myself, just me. Yep, all alone.
Lord you are so kind. Please bless Bev extra tonight and tomorrow ....

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

could write pages n pages....

I can't help but wonder how a man who went Home almost 100 years ago can speak daily, directly into my feeble life. Oswald Chambers died in 1917 and still the devotional compiled by his wife after his death continue to pierce my soul with the biting truths of Word.

Today's reading points to the Apostle Paul's self sacrificing service to the lost and to the found that they might know Christ. The Destitution of Service

Happy Birthday Jeremiah

So much I could say about how proud I am of the man you are becoming. I can see God moving in your life. Continue to see His face and seek His will for your life. I am grateful every day that God placed you in our family and made it complete. And Yes, YOU will always be my baby.

more Chambers

IS YOUR HOPE IN GOD FAINT AND DYING?
"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose imagination is stayed on Thee." Isaiah 26:3 (R. V. marg.) Is your imagination stayed on God or is it starved? The starvation of the imagination is one of the most fruitful sources of exhaustion and sapping in a worker's life. If you have never used your imagination to put yourself before God, begin to do it now. It is no use waiting for God to come; you must put your imagination away from the face of idols and look unto Him and be saved. Imagination is the greatest gift God has given us and it ought to be devoted entirely to Him. If you have been bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, it will be one of the greatest assets to faith when the time of trial comes, because your faith and the Spirit of God will work together. Learn to associate ideas worthy of God with all that happens in Nature - the sunrises and the sunsets, the sun and the stars, the changing seasons, and your imagination will never be at the mercy of your impulses, but will always be at the service of God. "We have sinned with our fathers; . . . and have forgotten" - then put a stiletto in the place where you have gone to sleep. "God is not talking to me just now," but He ought to be. Remember Whose you are and Whom you serve. Provoke yourself by recollection, and your affection for God will increase tenfold; your imagination will not be starved any longer, but will be quick and enthusiastic, and your hope will be inexpressibly bright. Lord Jesus, show me how to do this. Help me remember.

Oswald and me

And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly." 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24

When we pray to be sanctified, are we prepared to face the standard of these verses? We take the term sanctification much too lightly. Are we prepared for what sanctification will cost? It will cost an intense narrowing of all our interests on earth, and an immense broadening of all our interests in God. Sanctification means intense concentration on God's point of view. It means every power of body, soul and spirit chained and kept for God's purpose only. Are we prepared for God to do in us all that He separated us for? And then after His work is done in us, are we prepared to separate ourselves to God even as Jesus did? "For their sakes I sanctify Myself." The reason some of us have not entered into the experience of sanctification is that we have not realized the meaning of sanctification from God's standpoint. Sanctification means being made one with Jesus so that the disposition that ruled Him will rule us. Are we prepared for what that will cost? It will cost everything that is not of God in us.

Are we prepared to be caught up into the swing of this prayer of the apostle Paul's? Are we prepared to say - "Lord, make me as holy as You can make a sinner saved by grace"? Jesus has prayed that we might be one with Him as He is one with the Father. The one and only characteristic of the Holy Ghost in a man is a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, and freedom from everything that is unlike Him. Are we prepared to set ourselves apart for the Holy Spirit's ministrations in us?

Isn't this always the bottom line? No to our flesh, to our personal preferences, our fleshly desires; it matters not whether they are legitimate needs or godly passions...but if they are ours, and not in His plan for our lives they are made void when it comes to us responding to His personal call on our lives. We must daily submit to His plan, His call, His purpose for our today, and every day thereafter. There is no wiggling or whining out of His way. The day and the plan he sets before us should not merely be our first choice after much debate but our only choice after no debate. We can waffle around and pretend we do not know what it is He wants from us this day...but it is usually the thing He has set right in front of us, the very thing we seek refuge from. But alas, there will be no peace in our lives, not right to our upside down ways until we submit and give our total will to Him. It begins in our small daily choices to choose, kindness over apathy; to choose obedience over excuses; a willingness to be nothing when we long for recognition and appreciation. Jesus never once asked for any of those; only to serve the Father and to feed his sheep. Find the sheep God has placed in your life, and give your life to them; never looking back.

wasting time vs relaxing

Florida trip 2o11 day one...

Sitting in a Hampton in Stauton VA. Ate at a Red Lobster and now sitting watching TV and messing on the computer. My font is looking extra dark like its stuck in BOLD. So I do not know how it will look when published.
I do miss my babies already. But, I know I need this getaway. We considered bringing Kaleb, he did so well in Canada and is 6 months older. But, common sense won out. I guess. DA was clinging when i left saying, "don't leave Ammie, don't leave." He did run off and play then, but it still broke my heart. I had been talking to Kaleb for several weeks, trying to prepare him as he is less adaptable to new routines and situations. DA is usually just happy to be alive, rarely worries about much. I am blessed to see he is beginning to feel part of a home, our home, our family.
kaleb was doing well with the vacation he wasn't going on; he understood who was staying with him and that we would be back. Drew talked to them tonight and had pleasant conversation.

We have been making this trip for 13 years this year. Jer will be 15 a week from Sunday. I can hardly believe it. Life at our house is as intense as it was 15 year ago, well maybe not; Drew's dad had just died and Julia had skin cancer...That was rough. Now, the boys are active but growing fast, learning good things and not so good every day. But I can see God working in their lives.

My life has been difficult as of late. My mind seems like it has left for vacation months ago. I know I have been cranky, short tempered and down right nasty at times. Looking for find rest, much rest, and a way back to my saviour. Peace that has escaped me is what I seek. Rest in spirit, mind and soul will take me home a kinder gentler mom, wife and grammie.

to snow or not to snow

I am hoping for snow. Lots of snow. Snow day(s) for Jer. Snow angel play for boys. Hot soup or maybe a big pot of chili. Yep good old fashioned comfort food, a fire in the wood burner, and snuggling with my boys, big and little ones.

Grateful for my warm home and food in the fridge and pantry. Really grateful for an attached garage. Our new, not quite two years, home continues to be an amazing blessing in my life. Feeling kind of warm and fuzzy today.
*Happy anniversary Ned and Hannah. 2 years today.
*Only 12 short weeks till our newest Kimmel arrives. Hang in there Jen.
*Jer put the boys to bed all on his own; all was quiet in less than an hour.
*Jer scored a basket tonight @ his game
*ate dinner out w/drew alone
*had another one but it slipped away.
Time for sleep

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

surprises

I wonder if the disciples evera thought when they got up that ordidary morning, that they were enjoying the dawn of a day of miracles. A day to be recorded as a lesson to all of history. As the crowds gathered on the hill to see this man of mystery preach, did they grumble knowing it might be another long day in the scorching sun? Even as a boys meager lunch grew into a feast for thousands could they have imagined how many times the events of the day would be retold, demonstrating to generations the the tender care of the Creator God? how do we view a new day? Expectantly? Grudgingly? Confident in our Saviours design for or day, for our lives? Every day we draw a breath is an example to a broken world that Jesus loves the lost, and He's waiting to save and heal each hurting soul.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

another day in paradise or two tickets to paradise

Lying on the floor of the nursery; boys are asleep. Kinda a miracle it's only 8:18 pm.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

rubber hose

Steal your heart,
Steal your nose,
Feel like you been beat with a rubber hose.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

a walk in the park

Shade trees the scent of pine
Crunching under foot

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

visiting ammie (picture uploaded)

Today Jack came to my house for the first time. His Kimmel sized appetite kept him busy for the first hour or so, after which two very busy, noisy, busy boys introduced him to his calling as a Kimmel manchild. Not so sure if it was a thumbs up or thumbs down experience for him. But at the very least it was a fair and accurate introduction. A visit to the doc revealed a 12oz gain this past week to the delight of his parents and family. Still a small guy, that's Daddy's hand in the picture. So fun to see a daddy/son picture ; reminds me of how our Abba Father's hand is always present, always caring. What a sweet life we live.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

day after

Had a grand birthday. Thank you Jeremiah. You did a great job. Good food, friends, best kids in the world. The sun is making an appearance today and warming the fall air to a perfect 60° and painting the autumn landscape with reflective golden rays. Contentment fills my soul and laughter through the trials and tribulations of the day are a sweet gift from my Gentle Father.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

What's up Jack

We went to see jack and his parents this evening. So good to spend time with Ned and Hannah; but heartbroken for their ordeal. Jack is progressing as is expected for a preemie baby, but his being a preemie would not be our choice. For Hannah and Ned this is the first time experience. Experienced nurses and others keep saying, "to be expected for his early birth" or "normal for a preemie". Statements like these are meant to relieve or encourage but at times only amplify the anxious knot in their stomachs. For Jack's mommy and daddy normal would mean having their son at home with visiting grandmas and papaps, doting aunts and proud uncles gathered around being a nuisance . That would be normal. Monitors and worn vinyl love seats, tiny showers, and an occasional cranky nurse are not what they had expected. Monitors screaming alarms for no reason; the blinking numbers a constant reminder that all is not as well as it should be.
Other parents have endured far more serious medical conditions, but as a mom my heart breaks for my kids in this situation and my grandson in his tiny plastic crate. My prayer is for a quick ending to the hospital trial and for the crazy chaotic adventure of parenting a newborn to begin. O Lord may your healing mercy fall quickly and your comforting grace abound. Strengthen and encourage my dear ones. Keep their hearts strong and their gaze fixed on you.

little shoes

little shoes little shoes where will you go? little shoes little shoes scattered about little shoes little shoes no two that match. little shoes little shoes stuffed full of toes. little shoes little shoes where have you gone off to adventures laid out in advance. little shoes little shoes left prints on my heart.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.0

We've Got Jack

Today I have a son who is getting to know his new baby boy; caring for his wife and trusting his God for their tomorrows. Another is grieving the loss of a college friend, and wondering why the answers don't match the questions.

How life and death can walk so hand in hand is one of the great mysteries of God; and a wrestling match of emotions for this weary mom.

Sovereignty is a doctrinal certainty, this I know. But it is by faith alone, that I can begin to believe.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Yesterday's Oswald Chambers

September 14th.
	IMAGINATION V. INSPIRATION
"The simplicity that is in Christ." 2 Corinthians 11:3 Simplicity is the secret of seeing things clearly. A saint does not think clearly for a long while, but a saint ought to see clearly without any difficulty. You cannot think a spiritual muddle clear, you have to obey it clear. In intellectual matters you can think things out, but in spiritual matters you will think yourself into cotton wool. If there is something upon which God has put His pressure, obey in that matter, bring your imagination into captivity to the obedience of Christ with regard to it and everything will become as clear as daylight. The reasoning capacity comes afterwards, but we never see along that line, we see like children; when we try to be wise we see nothing (Matthew 11:25). The tiniest thing we allow in our lives that is not under the control of the Holy Spirit is quite sufficient to account for spiritual muddle, and all the thinking we like to spend on it will never make it clear. Spiritual muddle is only made plain by obedience. Immediately we obey, we discern. This is humiliating, because when we are muddled we know the reason is in the temper of our mind. When the natural power of vision is devoted to the Holy Spirit, it becomes the power of perceiving God's will and the whole life is kept in simplicity.

Not as good as I once was....

but by the grace of God I can be BETTER than I ever was.... I have learned much of late. I can be worse than I ever was or by the grace of God continue on in the sanctification walk becoming more like Christ; saying no to the cries of the flesh and yes to self sacrifice and obedience, never mistaking the Christian life for an easy, happy, fun, lifestyle choice.

How tempting to view my sins of heart as less offensive to God than the outward and visible. Much of my life before Christ revolved around FLESH choices; laying them down and walking in purity of body and mind brought great and evident change into my life. And even today old desires, and some new ones sneak into my heart and and tap at the door of my soul seeking to gain entrance into my heart and daily walk. Mostly they are bold and brassy and catch my attention before they arrive at the gate.
Oh but the sins of the heart...those sneaky, evil, worms of self-righteousness, self pity, LAZINESS, complaining, ingratitude, impatience, prides judgmental attitude, self, self, self. How they do flourish blossom and bloom, large and vibrant, without my notice or care.
Today as every day I must choose by and through the grace of my Jesus to lay down ME and rise up in and for HIM. Please Lord Jesus let me not take what you have given me to heart or self but pour it out on You and Yours.

After reading Sept 3 from My Upmost for His Highest
2 Samue23; l6 Nevertheless, he would not drink thereof but poured it out unto the Lord

day at the fair

ok, took the horses to the fair. truck blew up on the way in. limped into the fairgrounds only to find someone blocking our reserved $50 campsite. security gets rid of offending subcompact. tow truck hauls away my big green diesel Chevy. after an evening of fair food, family, n friends we return to find the electric in the horse trailer non-functional. friends camping out are in the dark.
day one at the fair; done

Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.5.2

Canada 2010

Now there is a pack of super heroes for you

Drewbee and me

Three men on a ship

Squirrel watch...

after this dinner Jer was only allowed plastic silverware

Never once complained about the life jacket

Ben n Jen n baby makes three

Randy n Ned n Hannah and Jack (not visible in picture)

Sharing snacks and a quiet moment

House is quiet. Kids are asleep. Jer is out and Drew is away for the night. Only Howard interrupts my silence with his continuous yapping outside. Even with the annoying canine disruptions the peace is almost beyond my understanding. Countless stories and witty tales have bounced and rippled through my tattered mind over these long silent months. But now, time and space on my hands; I have nothing to give.

Fortunately I have countless photos from our recent annual trip north I can most likely entertain for a little while.

yippee

I was quoted today in print...it is a big deal to me; not just someone I know or someone who loves me already, but a stranger. Hopefully a new friend. Late night early wake up.

Grace does rain new every morning; I count on that or would never get out of bed.

Great Day in the Morning

Mercies are poured out.

Do not grow weary

The way it should be done

Two boys a high lift and a horse

Ice cream in bed at the Hampton

What to do when weary will not depart? Been reading Oswald Chambers again and I wish I could find my old hardback copy with old notes and musings in the margins. I have to wonder if I have made any progress or am still muddling around in the shallow waters. He leaves no room for excuses or worried fussing.
Today seemed harder than most. Not sure why really. Could be a combination or my bad attitude, feeling seriously allergy afflicted, high fatigue level, normal teen angst, and busy baby boys. Seems like typical day in the life to me. The above pictures demonstrate the joys and laughter that fills my life. I think what wearies my is my lack of ability to grasp contentment. I lack nothing. I am completely blessed and free in life and in death. Still way too often I give in to resentment and self pity wishing for a different easier life. Shame on me...
O Sweet Jesus give me Your Joy, Your Contentment, Your Patience and Courage to wake up tomorrow knowing You are carrying my heavy burden. Release me from the snare of self so I might fully give my all to You and Yours.

Take My Life

This is my new theme song...

Why I Love My Life

will be continued after I drain the macaroni and serve dinner

Dinner was served and enjoyed. Sort of pulled it out of my magic dinner hat. Started with turkey kielbasa and some diced onions; a little bullion, peas, mushrooms, corn, a few black beans some pasta, salsa, and some shredded cheese ended up looking like a recipe meal. Maybe I should call that hat a miracle dinner hat. Meals are a constant challenge for me; the planning ahead, remembering to make sure I have what I need, mustering the energy to do the prep work, and getting everything hot and cooked through and on the table all at the same time.

That being said, every day is a new adventure and God continues to meet me at the foot of my mountains and my molehills. Started too late to expound much more. Split the boys tonight; Bev has Kaleb at her house with Chloe and DA is snoring snuggled up under his John Deere quilt. Jer in bed; Drew snoring beside me. Peace reigns...well except for Fox News blaring on the television. I'm half afraid to turn it off...peace may end cause Drew can "watch" it while snoring...

If it is writing you want

meet Chloe...previous pictures posted may have been a bit more flattering and also more true to her normal disposition. Usually a happy pleasant baby, this photo was captured in one of her weaker moments. Still pretty darn cute though. She has been spending most of her days and nights with Grandma Bev. But she comes to visit her big brothers with 'Amma, and we all enjoy those afternoons and evenings.

Big brother Kaleb and DA have been living with Jer, Drew, and I since baby sister was born, where previously our baby boys split their time between Bev's and our place. When we began this adventure I don't think any of us adults ever imagined it would become a long term endeavor. We believed Allen would spend sometime in jail, realize he had messed up and become a grownup and a Dad. Unfortuanely for adults and young boys alike, such was not the case. We became grandPARENTS, and two little boys lost their daddy. Mommy too, but she was never an intricate part of their lives. And now we have Chloe. What does it all mean?

Possibly God is calling all of us to a more intimate relationship with Him so that we are better able to discern and pursue with diligence the overwhelming job He has called us to.

good friends

I've Done Enough Dyin Today

The Gatlin Brothers; 1985ish

The words keep reeling through my mind, not sure why. Could have been the memorial service I attended today; an uncle I had not seen in years, true, his family once a huge part of my life. How easily we slip back into conversation, to relationships neglected but not defunct. Praise God for such dear ones, and how easily we can reconnect; of maybe just tap into a connection still strong but not often accessed. I end this day full to overflow with a sense of life and love and loss so powerful it aches to draw a breath. Not seeking sympathy, empathy maybe; knowing we all share in the human frailty and fragility of all we hold dear. Today, giving me reminder that outside my immediate life circle there is a broader sense of family connection given by my generous Father, to which I need hold to a little faster and remember a little oftener. Thank Sweet Jesus for a long hard day. I needed it.

Though this song reflects on a lover lost I think the words can be taken a bit deeper. Hold fast to all you hold dear and drink deep of the well of life; the bitter and the sweet and rich will be your days.

What will we do now? You tell me
The hourglass is all out of sand
How could love slip through our fingers
And leave nothin' but time on our hands?
And how will we live now? You tell me
With parts of our hearts torn away
Just existing makes dyin' look easy
But maybe tomorrowI've done enough dyin' today

And how will I sleep now? You tell me
With only my arm my by side
Perhaps I'll learn sleepin' all over
And just maybe without dreamin' this time
And who'll make you laugh now? You tell me
Since you sent your clown on his way
I don't think I'll cry, just die laughin'
But maybe tomorrow I've done enough dyin' today

And how will we live now? You tell me
With parts of our hearts torn away
Just existing makes dyin' look awful easy
But maybe tomorrow I've done enough dyin' today

Four Weeks Friday

So here she is four weeks old; plus a few days. 7lbs and oz or two. Changing quickly every day.