At our house we’ve adopted a great conversation starter when we gather around the table for dinner at the end of the day. Each of us verbally notes our high for the day, then our low, and lastly the funny of our day. It always amazes me how some days we’ve spent all day together yet each of us has something different to point out. Side note: sometimes when it’s my husband’s turn to state his high for the day he’ll keenly rattle off the “high temperature” for the day…before giving us his true answer.☺️
These table conversations are important because they cause us to know one another’s hearts, feelings, cares, and concerns a little more. Our kids enjoy the idea of being the only one in the “family spotlight” for a few moments during their turn, highlighting whatever it is for the day that stuck out most to them. Often times these smaller talks lead to larger discussions, taking it to a deeper level where we can really reflect, analyze, and engage with one another.
Since you and I most likely won’t be sharing dinner any time soon I thought I’d share my high, low, and funny over this past week (via the blog). Please feel free to do the same in the comment section below if you wish. Continue reading “A High, Low, and a Funny”
That was nearly twenty years ago; I can still feel the sting of the pain even now…Goodness I miss my dad…
*This is part 3 of a 3 part series- links to parts 1 and 2 are located at the bottom of this post
Growing up I took for granted the idea of family time and commitment. We had many fun times, but I failed to place much value on our years together while they were occurring.
Winter of 1999-a few months after my dad’s motorcycle accident
I’ve managed to mentally revisit and collect the moments we spent together and I hold on to those precious memories now.
I can also identify our number one struggle as well. We believed in God, but we were far from a relationship with Jesus, therefore our family-dynamic suffered in following Christian morals, which led to lenient parenting. Often times I was absent—drinking and partying with friends. House rules and expectations were shallow for me; late nights and a selfish mentality were abundant. Mistakes and poor choices were high as I ran wild.
It wasn’t until I was married with three young children and in my mid-twenties that I recognized the hurt and brokenness in me. I thought I could fix it on my own and I tried for the next five years.
I watched as my mother, meanwhile, had found healing over my father’s death by seeking Christ. I remember relying heavily on her for wisdom during that trying period and she pointed me to Jesus every time.
As the years move on, I slip further away from memories of my dad. In this crazy, busy world I must intentionally reminisce of our times together or I risk altogether losing the memory of the sweet time we had together…”
October of 1983-mom, dad and I
*This is part 2 of a 3 part series- links to parts 1 and 3 are located at the bottom of this post
My father was not perfect, as no one is, but he was incredibly good to my mom, brothers, and me; hard-working and courageous and taking pride in caring for his family and looking after my epileptic mother. He struggled with drug and alcohol addictions for most of my younger years but eventually abandoned the two and in the mix found out who his true friends were. He began attending church regularly with my mom and us kids but soon afterward discovered an interest in an old-time hobby of his…
Dirt bike racing.
Summer 1999-Photos from top left clockwise: mom, dad racing, brothers, me
Since the races were on Sunday mornings our church attendance as a family declined, while race attendance increased. The end of my dad’s first race season came in October of 1999 along with the abrupt end to his new hobby. Our lives were forever changed when a miscalculated double-jump left my father with a broken neck—paralyzed and ventilator dependent.
Christmas of 2000-our last family photo
During that time my dad lived hours away in an assisted health facility for proper care. We visited him often, but tragedy would strike again not even two years after the motorcycle accident.
We brought my dad home to visit for the Fourth of July weekend, upon returning him back to his “rehab-home” I fell asleep behind the wheel. My father didn’t survive the car accident. I was just seventeen at the time, my dad only thirty-nine.
A life cut far too short.
In an uncanny way, that accident was a blessing in disguise—that morning my dad had told my mom he ‘didn’t like living this way, that he was thankful she was the one caring for him over the weekend, but he didn’t want to live this way anymore…’
Whew..deep breath..heavy heart..
That was nearly twenty years ago; I can still feel the sting of the pain even now…Goodness I miss my dad…
*Part 3 follows with the lessons and faith I’ve found since my dad’s passing
*This is part 1 of a 3 part series- links to parts 2 and 3 are located at the bottom of this post
I must admit with all honesty, and with a guilty conscience, that poems are not always my favorite thing to read or write.
I sometimes think they sound a bit gushy or sappy. Maybe it’s because in my daily language I don’t use the kind of effusive talk which is typically involved with poetry.
However—I truly do appreciate and respect the effectiveness in expressing and communicating deep thoughts through a poem, thoughts that may not have been conveyed otherwise. It’s for that very reason, I take advantage of the power of poetic writing. The idea of describing emotions in few words, in a simple yet meaningful way, is appealing to me, for sure. Regardless of how corny the words may sound at times, poems make for a great opportunity to share true passions, experiences, and feelings in a practical, heartfelt manner.
With the Father’s Day celebration among us, I took to honoring my dad (who passed away when I was seventeen) by writing a poem:
DAD
Hunting, fishing, camping, riding—
Things you loved to do;
Family and friends—
Loved being with you.
Thankful for the years together we spent, Blessed for how they went.
Home early you left to be with Jesus,
Some days I still search for reasons.
The Father of you and I—
Our Father in Heaven,
He knows our time here,
He knows when He’ll call us there.
It’s hard to understand,
Why He called you too soon—
But I have to trust what God had planned.
Those memories I have of you,
The Lord truly blessed.
Those memories I have of you,
Are no doubt some of my best.
Some days reflecting back on those years,
Leaves me in tears.
It’s hard to understand,
Why He called you too soon—
But I have to trust what God had planned.
His ways aren’t for me to question,
But His words are for me to rest in.
Our Father in Heaven had a plan
When he made you my dad;
He brought me to you
to share as a daughter.
The Lord knew of our fun to be had.
He knew all our family would do.
He knew you’d love us like crazy too.
So it’s hard to understand,
Why He called you too soon—
But I have to trust what God had planned.
Dad and I..I was maybe 4 years old here
As the years move on, I slip further away from memories of my dad. In this crazy, busy world I must intentionally reminisce of our times together or I risk altogether losing the memory of the sweet time we had together…
*Part 2 follows with my dad’s story and part 3 with the lessons I’ve learned as a result
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write due to a combination of super busy and miserably sick, and learning a new phone system!!!! (I’m still not even sure this will show correctly to my ‘email followers’; if you’re interested you may need to click into the link and read it from the blog’s website).
In the midst of all of the crazy, some really cool things have been happening…
I began guitar lessons a few weeks ago, something I have wanted to do for years now. I’m hoping one day I’ll hear my husband say, “good job honey!”…instead of, “it sounds like you’re strangling a cat.” He’s right though!! I’ll be strumming along nice and lovely…and then all of a sudden out of nowhere, “rrrreerrr”…not music to my ears or anyone else’s to say the least, but I have a fantastic guitar instructor and therefore I’m hopeful this will all get “harmonized” in due time.
Also I took a spiritual gifts test recently with the rest of my co-youth group leaders and discovered that my top strong points are exhortation (encouragement), serving, and hospitality. This has helped me know myself just a little more!
ENCOURAGEMENT seems fitting since I’ve referred to myself as my kids’ biggest cheerleader, including my husband’s. I’ve even poured that encouragement out on my classroom kids as I sub and my youth kids as I help lead them—kids and adults alike need rooted on!!
SERVING comes in as I get involved in mission trips, community service projects, and local outreach programs.
And HOSPITALITY has shown up as our family has held youth group events at our home, hosted the most amazing foreign exchange student, and entertained numerous guests between large birthday parties and dinner dates.
**side note: there’s a huge difference between spiritual gifts and talents! In quick summary, God gives both; a talent can be possessed by anyone as the result of genetics and/or training, whereas a spiritual gift is the result of the Holy Spirit’s power at work in a believer. Romans 12:6-8, 1st Corinthians 12:4-11, Ephesians 4:11-13
Next, since garage sale season is among us, I browsed a few the other day. I was set out for mason jars to use for canning purposes and found NOT a single one; however, nearing the end of my search I came across what resembled more of a “garbage sale” than a garage sale and I spotted this little gem: Continue reading “Spring Cleaning: Out Satan!”
For His Purpose 