Thanks for the encouragement

photo © 2007 Fern | more info (via: Wylio)
Dearest readers,
Thank you for your comments and emails of encouragement yesterday. While my heart breaks for my friend, I rejoice that I don't walk alone. Each note of encouragement filled me up and reminded me how important it is to keep going.

While I know it's not my job to convert the unbeliever, only God can fill their heart, I sometimes feel responsible. (That sneaky little satan trying to convince me that I'm a failure when one person says no to God.) I did what I could, planting seeds of truth. My friend has heard about God's love and desire to have a relationship with him. I can do no more.

Or can I?

In my somber mood yesterday, I spent quite a bit of time talking with God, spilling my longings for my friend into His lap. God reassured me, through you and through scripture, that I did what I could. I spoke the truth, in love, and did not turn my back on my friend when the conversations got tough. I loved him the best I can. I prayed (still do) for him.

Then, God asked me, "What about the others?" Uh oh!

He flooded my mind with memories:

• Homeless people and their cardboard signs at the side of the road. How many times have I turned away, pretending they weren't there?
• Neighbors who I have never invited to church?
• Blog posts I've written without taking the time to finish learning the lesson myself? (YIKES!!! Really? You mean what I write here could actually point someone in the wrong direction? And God says... "Yes. Make sure you finish studying and listening BEFORE you start writing.")
• Incidents, lots of incidents, where I jumped to conclusions and didn't treat my kids with patient, encouraging instruction.

Of course, God isn't in the business of condemning. He would never have sent Jesus if He wanted to sit around and watch us fail. Yesterday's conversation was a good reminder, something I need every day. Love when you have the opportunity. Wherever. Whenever. Whatever.

God reminded me to treat everyone with the same respect and passion that I reached out to my friend. 

**I am thankful that when I fail in all those things listed above, He will always forgive and give me another chance to learn.**

Locked out!

photo © 2010 Alex Murphy | more info (via: Wylio)
Good Tuesday morning, everyone. I took the dog outside this morning, pulling the door shut behind me. Yep! Locked myself out of the house! No big deal. I still had two kids inside.

Except...

They were asleep in their beds. Upstairs. I was on the back porch. In my jammies. Barefoot. I pounded on the back door, hoping someone would hear me before I had to suffer the embarrassment of running to the front porch in my jammies.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

Then, grumpy but loud, I heard, "I'm coming. Stop it."

Yay! I got in! The first thing I did (Ben was already headed back to bed), was update my facebook status. (I'm so technologically gifted). That led to checking email...

My inbox contained an email from an "atheist friend of mine." Somehow, he discovered my blog. He regularly responds to my Bible-quoting posts. He doesn't agree with my theology. I read his email and my heart grew heavy. He doesn't see the hope, the love or the power of God in scripture. He sees hurt, pain, evil, and darkness.

I was locked out of my house. He is locked out of the joy of life in Christ. It breaks my heart.

1 Corinthians 2:12-14 says:

What we have received is not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may understand what God has freely given us. This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom, but in words taught by the Sprit, explaining spiritual realities with Spirit-taught words. The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.

We cannot understand the Word of God without the Spirit of God dwelling in us. Understanding His Word begins when we accept, by faith, that Jesus is His One and Only Son, sent to earth to live as a man and die as a man, though sinless, on our behalf. He did this, not for Himself, but for us, who sin, so that we may live forever in Heaven with Him.

I can't debate scripture with my friend. Until he -- or any non-believer -- chooses to take that important step of faith into the unknowable, he will never understand the deeper meaning of God's Word. I pray that one day, my friend will take that step and discover the wonder and joy of life in Christ.

Dear God,
I pray that those who read this post will know your hope, joy and peace, which comes from the Holy Spirit. I pray that unbelievers will answer your call as you "stand at the door and knock." May they unlock their hearts and let You in. In Jesus' name,
Amen

It's FRIDAY!!!

This has been quite the week. I don't know the last time I was so thankful for Friday to arrive.

It's kind of a silly thankfulness since I have to get up even earlier than usual tomorrow to drive Nathan to his SAT exam. The rest of the day, I'll be working with Ben on his science fair project.

Still, we survived a wacky week. I guess we'll celebrate that! :)

What are you doing this weekend?

Becoming a Testimony

Have you ever listened to God, thinking you heard loud and clear? Then, somewhere, somehow, He says, "You only heard the beginning. I have so much more to show you." I don't exactly hear His voice, but often I think I figure something out and get stopped in my tracks. Blown away! He shows me there's so much more! That's exactly what's happening to me!


Earlier in the week I wrote about how we are a living testimony of God's love. We just need to ask for guidance and opportunity. That's true, but it just scratches the surface of God's plan.

Bear with me as I try to share. I'm not entirely sure I've really figured out everything He is showing me.

God created us for a purpose. That's Jeremiah 29:11. Not just any purpose, but a purpose that prospers, offers hope and gives us a future. Psalm 139 adds that God knitted us together in our mother's womb, already knowing the plans ordained for us. We are not here just to fill space, breathe air, eat and drink. God has something special for each one of us to do.

For some, life is short. Yet their lives often bring people closer to God than many of us who live decades. Those little ones, with prayers lifted high on their behalf, teach us so much about the preciousness of life and our need for God. Why don't we, given decades, always seem to accomplish the same?

I know I've been guilty of laziness, ignorance, and blindness. When I choose to "veg in front of the TV" I am not giving God all of my day. When I choose to "do it my way" and not go to His Word or ask for his guidance in prayer, I ignore the opportunity He presents. Often, I end up making things worse! Sometimes, I just close my eyes to the hurt all around and pretend (spiritually blind and heart closed) that it doesn't exist. Sadly, when I see a homeless person on the side of the road, I tend to busy myself in my purse or talk "earnestly" with my passenger. Anything but look him in the eye and recognize that he needs me to be Jesus' hands and feet. God wants me to be His hands and feet.

Where is the testimony in my failures? Absent. Instead of a testimony, I build walls, experience by experience. If my kids are with me when I ignore the homeless person, they learn that some people are more precious to God than others. That's not a testimony of God's love. When I lounge on the couch instead of investing in my family (no guilt trips here) -- especially when I know someone has a need -- I demonstrate my selfishness, not humility. Where is the testimony of God's love?

Like I said at the outset, I think I understand, then God takes it to a whole new level. It's like He says, "Dear child, You only think you understand. What about this? Or this? Or this? Take those steps. Then, maybe, you'll begin to understand how deep and wide My love truly is."

That's the lesson He taught last night. We had a guest speaker at church, Ps. Stovall Weems of Celebration Church in Jacksonville, FL. He shared the story of Noah. Not the ark building part, but the landing and resting part. I won't repeat it all, because I'd never tell it as good as he did. Instead, indulge me as I share the lessons I learned. :)

When the ark landed, Noah sent out a raven to search for dry land. (About a week ago, I read that and wondered if there was any significance to the black raven that got nowhere and the white dove that did, but I didn't dwell on it... God decided I should know anyway.) The raven, according to Ps. Stovall, represents sin. When we sin, we wander "to and fro," never growing closer to God. We can't land.

Do you see where I'm headed? When I wander aimlessly (see above for just a few examples), my heart isn't open to God. He can't land. He can't grow me. I don't become a testimony. I just breathe, eat and drink. Nothing.

When the raven didn't get it done, Noah sent the dove. It went out searching and returned. Noah "reached out his hand and took the dove and brought it back to himself in the ark." (Gen 8:9) Noah reached out, exactly what we do when we open our hearts to God's teaching through Bible study and prayer and corporate worship. He took the dove and brought it back to himself in the ark, exactly what we do when we accept God's word and receive His instruction.

To be a living testimony requires more than just living right. It's more than "just" being an example. A living testimony requires daily walking with God. It means we open our hearts to His teaching, correction and direction. We give up our selfish desires to live out His plan for our lives. To be a living testimony means we choose to do life God's way, giving Him glory for the trials and the successes. We giving Him glory for the opportunities and the blessings.

To be a living testimony, God must be first.

Dear God,
I praise you today for your persistence! You have so much to teach me about your plan for my life. Please forgive me for not understanding the first time. Please forgive me for my selfishness, my laziness and my pride. Humble me. Teach me more of You. God, let my life be a testimony of your love, your grace and your mercy. Open my eyes and my heart. I want my life to honor you. 
In Jesus' precious name I pray,
Amen

A Living Testimony

Oh to have the courage of Esther, willing to give her life to save her people. Or the faith of Moses who stretched his staff over a sea to part the waters and rescue a nation. Or the legacy of Abraham, the father of nations.

Not me. I'm just a mom. A wife. A homemaker. I don't lead the kingdom of God. I'm just a little fish in a very, very, very big pond. My life is nothing special.

Have you ever felt that way? Like a nobody.

Of course, that is not how God sees you. Or me. Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that God has a perfect plan for our lives, a plan that prospers, gives us hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 wasn't a promise for those Bible guys generations ago. That promise is for us all. God has a plan. A testimony. For you. For me.

A few years ago, I hurt a friend of mine. I didn't mean to, but yet... I did. It ate me up inside. I asked God to forgive me. Eventually, I got the courage to ask her to forgive me. Suprisingly, she did, just like that. Our story is a testimony of forgiveness and friendship lived the way God intends. When I asked forgiveness, my kids knew about it. They saw me model humility. When she forgave, I received grace. My kids learned how beautiful Godly forgiveness is.

Second Corinthians 5:17 (NIV) says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" No matter what struggles you faced before or what you face now, your life is a testimony of Jesus' love. Whatever challenges you face, whether big or small, your life is your testimony. Will you share it?

A friend of mine shared recently that she's been asking God to give her a testimony. She said she wants to be a living testimony. She may not see it yet, but she already is. We all are. When we ask God why we have the experiences, the friends, the family, the problems, the temperament, the history that we do, He reveals that plan -- not all at once, but eventually. When we ask Him for opportunity to encourage others, He provides the opportunity to live that plan out. We just need to ask.

If you face a health challenge, whether it's something "big" like cancer or more personal like a battle with weight, God has a plan for you in this struggle. Ask Him to show you how He wants to use your situation to make a difference in others' lives.

Is your marriage falling apart? Ask God to help you be a witness of His love to your spouse. Pray, too, for the opportunity to glorify God no matter what challenge you face. Whether your marriage ends or not, God can be glorified by how you live through it. Trust Him. Look to Him for love... and the ability to love.

Do you have a special needs child? A strong willed child? A wayward child? Trust God with their lives. Live in hope and confidence. Trust Him to give you the wisdom you need to parent His way.

We have a choice. We can see ourselves as too insignificant to matter and simply exist. Or, we can acknowledge God, in all things, and be a testimony of His love every day.

Will you be a living testimony?

The Best Thing Anyone's Ever Done

A few weeks ago, while gathered with friends, someone asked, "What's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you? Besides Jesus, of course."

I'm 44 years old. Lots of people have done lots of nice things for me. My husband is up there, that's for sure. He loves me, encourages me, spoils me rotten -- my kids really notice, and prays for me. He writes me little notes. He smiles a special smile, just for me. During our journey to Ellie, complete strangers gave us money from their pockets. Quite unexpected. When we got home from China with Ellie, our house was immaculately clean and dinner was simmering in a crock pot. With fresh, homemade bread. The gift of a special friend. On bedrest during my second pregnancy, a dear friend would drop anything to help me, encourage me, rush me to the doctor, bring food when I actually felt like eating.

Just thinking about the BEST THING anyone has ever done certainly opened my eyes to how blessed I am! But the best thing...

Several years ago, my husband's father died from cancer just after the new year. He held on through Christmas. The family got to see him. We all said our good-byes. His life ended quietly.

The visitation and funeral were in our hometown of Kent, Ohio. For the record, Kent is located at the edge of the snow belt. Any given January can bury the town in a deep blanket of snow making travel treacherous. The day of the visitation, Kent got one of those storms, snow AND ice! The family gathered at the funeral home anyway. Local friends braved the weather and came to share their love and say good-bye. Some friends and family, not surprisingly, couldn't make it. The weather was just too bad.

Partway through the visitation, four guys came in, hardly expected. From our church in Delaware, Ohio (about 2 1/2 hours away on a good day), they drove to Kent in that crazy storm. To pray with us. To stand by us. We hadn't asked them to come, not that they weren't welcome. We certainly didn't expect them, especially in the bad weather. Yet, there they were.

What's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me? Four guys, unbidden, drove through a horrendous snow and ice storm to stand by my husband (and me) on the saddest day of his life. They were His hands and feet of comfort. They were His reassurance in the flesh. They held us up when our hearts were broken. (Yes, we know his dad is in heaven and we'll see him again. At the time, it didn't make the good-bye any easier.) The nicest thing anyone has ever done is showing me that "family in Christ" means exactly that. Family. United as one. In Christ.

Protecting my kids from the big, bad world

Bloggy friends,
Do you sometimes find yourself trying to protect your kids from the bad things out there? I do. When the neighborhood kids play and it turns into a brawl (a typical boy thing, for sure), I want to don my red cape and run outside to swoop up my kids and return them to the safety of our home. When my youngest is taken advantage of by the older kids (a big issue during the silly bands era), I want to throttle a few older kids for being so predatory! (Don't worry, neighbors, I know it's just a kid thing...)

Do your kids ask to take dance, art, and/or music classes? Do they ask to play soccer, football, and baseball? Do you wonder how you'll ever survive their schedules? Especially when you have work, grocery shopping, bill paying and house cleaning to do, too? Really, that mini-van or XUV needs that TAXI sign on top!

The 21st century offers kids more opportunities to do. Of course, all that doing can lead to some tough "mama bear" moments -- what do you mean she didn't make the lead in the musical? But she has studied voice since she was four. She's the most talented kid in the whole school. Arrrrgggghhhh.

Is this the kind of hurt and stress God wants us to carry, though? Is this really His plan for parenting?

Of course, you know I'm about to say I don't think so.

Looking back - way back - to around 2050 B.C. (that's about 4160 years ago), Abraham faced a huge parenting dilemma with his son, Isaac. It wasn't that Abraham was trying to protect Isaac from neighborhood bullies. He wasn't juggling Isaac's crazy after-school schedule around his own job of leading the Hebrew nation.

God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. Yep. (If you're not familiar with their story, you can read it here.) God asked him to sacrifice his one and only son. The child he wanted for close to 100 years. The child he thought he and Sarah could never have. God gave Isaac to Abraham and Sarah, then told them to give him up. That's a bit tougher than juggling schedules. In the end, of course, God sends a ram to take Isaac's place. Abraham, though willing, never had to do the unthinkable.

What does this story have to do with us today?

I'm not a Bible expert. I'm just a lady who reads her Bible, asking God to reveal His truth. When I read this familiar scene again this morning, I sensed God saying, "You'll never love your kids as much as I do." But I know that, God. But, do I, really?

When my kids ask to join this, that or the other, do I try to figure out how to fit it in? Often. Do I pray first, asking God if it should be fit in? Not so often.

When my kids' feelings get hurt by other kids, do I assume that the other kids did something wrong? Usually. Am I right? Not all the time. Do I ask God for wisdom in the situation to help my kids grow in love, compassion or kindness? Not very often.

When my sons forget to text me that they arrived somewhere safely or I can't get them by phone, does my mind jump to horrors unspeakable? More than I want to admit. Do I pray for peace when my mind starts to wander and protection for my kids if they need it? Rarely. More often I wonder whether I should call their friends' parents yet or wait a few minutes before calling 9-1-1.

Abraham didn't share my struggles. God said, take your son up on that mountain and sacrifice him. Abraham packed. Abraham went. Abraham, no doubt trembling with love for his son, did as God asked. Why?

Abraham loved God first. Abraham trusted God with his son's life. He trusted God with his own life too. (Seriously, how could he have endured the pain of sacrificing Isaac? or Sarah's pain when he came home without Isaac?) Abraham didn't get everything right in his life, but when it came to raising Isaac, he understood, God loved his son more than Abraham ever could.

I'm learning to pray for my kids in a deeper way. I pray that they'll find comfort in God no matter what happens in their day. I pray that God will watch over them. I ask God to remove my fears. And when there are so many good things out there to do, our whole family is learning to ask God which fit his plans. And which do not.

God loves my kids more than I ever can. I'm learning to trust Him with the details of their lives. Sometimes, at least.

Truth or Consequences

Friends, I'm dating myself today. When I was a little girl, our family watched Truth or Consequences every night. I remember it airing at 7:30, just before I headed off to bed. We loved the wacky stunts. We tried, oh so hard, to guess the right answer to the trivia questions. Fun times!

In real life, truth or consequences is not so fun. When one of my kids (who shall remain anonymous) came home from school yesterday, s/he reported that it was a great day. S/he further reported that s/he did not get a "skittle" today, because s/he is "fasting treats." Usually, a skittle is the day end reward for making good choices. Kids will do a lot for one little skittle!

Getting this one ready for the bus this morning, I pulled out his/her daily folder to sign off as I do every day. Usually, I do that right after school, but we had piano lessons and church yesterday, so it didn't get done until this morning. Sadly, the folder included a note that this one pulled a star for talking in class, a definite respect rule violation! Truth exposed. Ouch.

My child, chagrined, got coat, shoes and backpack ready. We stood together to pray for the day, just as we always do. This time, my child prayed with a crushed heart. Limp. So sad.

Before we began, I offered God a silent prayer, "Lord, let my prayer build my child up. Help me prepare my child to live for You."

We took each others hands and I began. I prayed a fairly typical school-day prayer, asking for God's kindness and love to shine through, asking for wisdom and learning, and thanking Him for all the wonderful blessings in my child's life, from bus drivers to teachers to fellow students. And then, gently, I said, "It's time for you to ask God to forgive you."

Huge eyes, filled with tears, looked into mine. "You can do it." (Oh, child, admitting our mistakes is so hard.... please learn this today.)

"Dear Jesus, I am sorry I talked in class. I am sorry I lied to my mom." Those eyes looked up again.

"You need to ask forgiveness. Jesus always forgives."

Head drops. Shoulders heave. Tears fall. "Please forgive me."

Perhaps the hardest words ever to say, to Jesus or to anyone.

With a hug and a word of encouragement,  I sent my child out the door. "Dear Jesus, Please let this moment sink in. Help my child learn that the truth is always better than the consequences. Bless my child with a wonderful day. Fill my child with Your love, so much greater than mine."

Amen

Why is it...

When God reveals a truth to me -- something so profound and deep that it takes my breath away -- I can't find adequate words to share?

I never run out of words... today, I just can't find them.

Instead, I'll just say, "Thank you, God. For giving me this day. For speaking to me. For filling me. For stopping me in my tracks... and showing me more of You. Amen."

The Source of Forgiveness

Yesterday, I shared admitted that I was a pretty rotten kid! I judged my parents and held wrongs against them for years. Those wrongs festered in my mind, filling me with hurt and contempt. I didn't see my parents for who they really are.

Finally, I forgave. I give all the credit to God. A friend of mine questions me whenever I give God the credit for any victories in my life. I can almost hear him ask, "Why give God the credit? Aren't you the one who forgave?" Sure. I forgave.

However, without God, I wouldn't have forgiven. I had tried it all.

I blamed my parents. I felt guilty.

I pushed my feelings down. That made me sick.

I took anti-depressants. They didn't work.
I went to counseling. That helped clarify some things, but didn't lead me to forgive.
I complained to friends about my life. They got tired of me.

When I gave it to Jesus, my heart broke free. It's not quite a feeling, certainly not one I can adequately describe. It's far deeper than that.

John 10:10 says, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." Most of my life, I convinced myself that I had a tough life. I'm sure satan enjoyed whispering in my ear, telling me how rough and unfair everything was. I imagine him wringing his hands together, devilishly cackling each time I griped, knowing he had my heart all tangled up. Satan did all he could to steal my joy, kill my hope and destroy my relationship with my family. For my part, I bought in to the deception and distortion of my life and accepted them as true.

Jesus broke through the lies. He broke through the distortion. He came that I might have life, and have it to the full. Joy. Tremendous "lightness" of spirit. Freedom.

Hebrews 10:19-23 (NLT) says, "...we can boldly enter heaven's Most Holy Place because of the blood of Jesus. By his death, Jesus opened a new and life-giving way through the curtain into the Most Holy Place. And since we have a great High Priest who rules over God's house, let us go right into the presence of God with sincere hearts fully trusting Him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ's blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water. Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep His promise."

Hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.


I knew Jesus wanted to heal my hurts. I knew Jesus wanted to carry my burden. I knew I held on tight to the darkness and pain. I knew I wasn't letting go. I stubbornly resisted letting go -- believing that the pain was a reality I just had to accept. When it finally sank in that God wanted more for me, I let go of the pain and trusted God to keep that promise.

He took my pain. He replaced it with hope, joy, healing, freedom. Now, I live in joy. My family is filled with joy (Not that we don't stumble. I am not perfect.) I am a new creation because Christ lives in me and through me.

Because He took my pain, my parents celebrated Christmas -- and nine inches of snow -- with us. It wasn't just that they were here. We had fun! We enjoyed sweet fellowship. We made memories I never expected would happen.

What God gave me is available to you, too. Hold tightly to Him with unwavering hope. Hand over your troubles and live life to the full. I'm praying for you, dear reader, that you will discover the joy that comes when you surrender your hurt and pain to God. Don't hold on as long as I did.

Much love,
Karen

Life Begins at 38!

The past few years, people comment on my life, often asking my secret for joyful living. I call it joy-filled living. Before age 38, no one asked me that question. Not that I can recall anyway. I used to explain that I am a "recovering pessimist." But it's not really that simple.

When I was 38 (oh how I wish I had been younger), I forgave my parents. My whole life, I held grudges against them for perceived injustices. Every single hurt magnified, clutched to my heart. They weren't perfect, that's for sure. And I made sure they knew it.

I quietly rebelled. My parents can tell stories of me running away -- the first time when I was six, determined to go to Grandma's. One time, I planned a coup -- taking my two younger brothers and hiding out for hours -- plotting how to get our way. My dad patiently waited and then called us to lunch. The boys toppled instantly. I followed grudgingly behind. When I was older, I didn't run away, but I did the "teen thing," hiding in my room, whispering complaints on the phone to my friends.

Seriously, my parents made mistakes. Sometimes I got in trouble for things my brothers had done. They yelled and screamed in anger. Sometimes, I got spanked. Before I was a mom (a long time ago), I went to counseling to get past it all. The first -- and only -- visit, I aired my litany of grievances gathered over a couple of decades. The counselor told me I was abused. She assigned homework, "Go home this week and look in the mirror. Tell yourself it's okay to hurt." She was serious. Driving home, I bawled. In my heart, I knew I was not abused. I was -- and am -- loved. All those hurts piled up were simply my parents' best attempts to raise their three kids. I never went back to counseling with her. Or anyone. Instead, I pushed my hurts down and continued living with a mask of darkness over my heart, knowing I wasn't abused, but unwilling to forgive.

I became a mother. Twice. I moved from Ohio to North Carolina and endured my very darkest days. Finally, I understood. Our pastor preaches all the time about hope and forgiveness. He reminds us that we all make mistakes, which is why we need Jesus. He encourages us to forgive others and let go of those hurts. Eventually, enough of those messages seeped into me to change my life completely.

I forgave. Every hurt and grudge I had held, I finally laid at Jesus' feet. I gave Him the heavy burden on my heart. I asked Him to help me let go. More than that, I asked Him to show me life from my parents' perspective. He did!

I was a stubborn and strong-willed child (still am). My parents gave me room to make choices that often caused them frustration and hurt. My mom tried to connect with me during high school, investing time and energy in my pursuits. I made her out to be lame and out of touch, keeping her at arms' length. Yes, Jesus showed me life from my parents' perspective. It hurt.

He showed me the fear and worry they endured in the 1970's. My dad, then an electrician with Goodyear, was frequently laid off due to the economy and the energy crisis. My mom was forced to go to work. My dad took second shift jobs. They never saw each other. Yet, we never lost our home, never went without food, and always had a parent there to tuck us in at night. My dad called every evening like clockwork, at 7:20, to wish us good-night and sweet dreams.

They had purchased property on Marco Island, Florida in the 1960's, to use for retirement. In the 1970's they sold it to keep us afloat. Their dreams and plans crushed. I never knew. Or at least, I never understood the depth of their disappointment as their plans evaporated. Instead, my mom would let us try to stay up till Dad got home from work on the weekends. She took us midnight bowling to watch him bowl in a late-night league. Such a grand adventure!

At age 38, I found joy, not because my life changed. I found joy because I let go of the things that weighed me down. I opened my heart to the truth and Satan lost his foothold in my heart.

Genesis 9:18-27 tells a story of Noah and his sons after the flood. Old Noah got a little drunk and acted a bit recklessly. His younger son, Ham, saw him and called his brothers Shem and Japheth to get a good look at dear old dad. Shem and Japheth, full of respect for their father, chose instead to honor him. They respected him in spite of his mistake. Ham's bad attitude toward his dad affected generations that followed.

Much like Ham, I disrespected my parents with my bad attitude. My joy today is the result of God working in my heart, helping me to forgive real wrongs and to ask forgiveness for wrong attitudes. Life for me began at 38. The year I let go.

Mystery of 2011

Hello bloggy friends,
Happy new year!!! We welcomed 2011 with a short trip to the beach. We played with the kids, roasted marshmallows by the fire, walked on the beach, and reflected on our incredible year. Unplugged. Quiet. Relaxed.

Arriving home, excited to see our new fireplace (that's the way to renovate, folks. Leave town), Rob punched the button on the garage door opener. We rushed under the rising door and ran in through the laundry room. The kids and grandma trailed behind.

After we checked out the fireplace, Rob headed to the front door to begin the less-than-thrilling unpacking. Suitcases. Coolers. Toys. Pillows. He summoned the kids to help.

At the front door, he paused. He hollered, "What's this?" Hoping that maybe we got a cool package delivered while we were gone, I ran to the door. He bent down so I couldn't see past, picked up the package and turned to me. "What is this?"

"A goldfish!" I exclaimed. "Who left a goldfish on our front step?" I looked around, as if someone had just left it and run off.

Thus, 2011 begins! "The great goldfish mystery of 2011" sits on our kitchen counter... Not in the same bowl as our betta. Now to give the little guy a name. And get him some food.

How did your year begin?