Grandma’s Biscuits and…Her Dementia

711FD028-E6E7-4694-B142-F42BC4353A80It’s 3 A.M. as I write…can’t sleep…

Again.

This time I’m blaming my dog. My husband might have been sleep-talking as he rambled off something about the dog and an ear infection; either way his slumbered words sound like the voice of reason to me so I’ll have to get Eli into the vet because this whining and ear scratching is obnoxious—for not only the dog but me as well. Apparently it’s not affecting Nate’s sleep, after offering his ‘unprofessional vet diagnosis’ he’s back to quiet snores before even finishing mumbling.

Anyway after my last post I wasn’t sure I’d be able to write again…ever. There’s times when I share deep parts of my life on this blog and it causes me to feel so vulnerable. It feels like rather than pushing the “publish” button, I’ve just pushed “panic” instead and I begin to get swallowed by Satan’s lies ‘you’re crazy for putting that out there, what’s wrong with you? and blah, blah, blah’…because he’s just that irritating.

But then I have to remember why I originally chose to start this blog—it was never to showcase the best parts of my life through haughty sounding words, it wasn’t to reach a certain number of followers, nor was it to gain attention. It’s always been about noting the things and areas of my life in which God has spoken to my heart, sharing highs and lows and the lessons learned along the way, creating a legacy to pass down to my kiddos. All I want is for them to see how tough life can be BUT what prevails is loving Jesus like crazy regardless.

Perhaps the best part of this blog is being able to write my thoughts out and seeing how God has and is working in my life and then when someone comments on a post even three or four months later to let me know my words spoke to their heart…goodness, there’s just nothing like it. Glory to God alone, I’m then able to grasp that this whole blog is truly For His Purpose. Amen!!?

Not today Satan, not today! Even if it is 3 in the morning, I choose to use this time optimistically.

So on to Grandma’s biscuits and her dementia… Continue reading “Grandma’s Biscuits and…Her Dementia”

Autumn Blessings

It’s 3 A.M. as I write…or type this…so I’m sorry ahead of time for any misspelled words or confusing lingo. I shouldn’t proofread before hitting publish just as a way to make it extraordinarily entertaining to go back and read later.

I can’t sleep very well lately and I think it’s because we’ve been going to bed at 9 lately instead of 10…either way I have two Yorkies cuddled up way too close on each side of me, an inconsistent snoring husband on his half of the bed, and I believe a charming little Warren boy curled up at the foot of my bed…plus I can hear our rooster crowing from the chicken coop. I’m not sure what that’s all about but he must be exceptionally confused and hopefully isn’t causing our neighbors any sleep deprivation.

Throw all those odds in against me and it’s no wonder I lie awake….(lie or lay…anyone else have trouble knowing which of those two are correct?)

Anyways on with the purpose of this post—which was inevitably going to come about…regardless of 3 A.M. sleepless nights.

Autumn. I just love that word. You don’t hear it very often. People lean more to using the word fall, myself included, and I’m not sure why, but I’m hoping it’s not another sign of laziness. Continue reading “Autumn Blessings”

Finding a New Perspective Through Zip Lining

I sat, securely in a harness, suspended from a cable about fifteen feet off the ground. My husband walked alongside my kids who were down below cheering excitedly. They pulled me and my attached equipment to the starting point where they’d release the rope and send me sailing on a zip line amidst a thickly wooded grassland.

Adventure? Yes.

Enthusiasm? Not from me at this moment.

When my family was invited to an evening of fun at what has been dubbed “magical” Narnia, we quickly accepted the offer. This tiny slice of Heaven belongs to our Pastor and his wife and sits on ten acres with a river gently flowing along the edge of the property. With four-wheeler trails, rope swings, a camp fire area, shooting range, zip line, and lots of space to climb, roam and explore, it really is a good time for an outdoor enthusiast and it’s entertained many over the years.

But as I sat anxiously, about to be whisked away, I was far from impressed but hesitantly persisted on—in hopes of overcoming my fear. Knowing the set-up was completely secure still didn’t alleviate my anxiety. I tried to ease my mind—It’ll be over in seconds…I’m probably the five hundred and eleventh person to use this zip line…my insurance deductible has already been met this year…my kids and many others have been zip lining all evening and they’re still in one piece…

Let me tell you, when you’re afraid of heights—NONE of these things matter—AT ALL.

Without warning, my family freed the pull-rope and there I went zipping along wildly at the expense of Tarzan and his chimp’s amusement, AKA Nate and kids. My emotional state heightened far beyond my physical suspended height, and when it looked as if I was going to smack a tree that sits way too close to the zip line trail it was game over for me. “I don’t like it!!” I shouted down to my amused onlookers.

And then just as soon as it began it ended. It was over. I made it to the end. I was safe.

…I thought about how at an earlier point in my life I had enjoyed the thrill of zip lining and other wild adventures.

But that was before a husband. Before kids. Before adult responsibilities. Continue reading “Finding a New Perspective Through Zip Lining”

A High, Low, and a Funny

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Photography taken by R. Peters

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”

Part 3: Remembering My Dad (lessons and spiritual growth)

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.

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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.

And then one day I finally submitted… Continue reading “Part 3: Remembering My Dad (lessons and spiritual growth)”

Part 1: Remembering My Dad (poetry)

*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.

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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