Day Late and a Dollar Short.

     I have had my entire life a condition that has been referred to as ADD.  Many are saying it isn't real and should not be treated.  You know, they say, it isn't a valid reason for shortcomings that are easily rectified by self-control.  Well, that may well be, but I struggle greatly with something outside of my control.

     I avoid any commitment that has me meeting on second and fourth days of the week during the month.  For example, "Karen! You should come to knitting club, [I crochet, thanks] it meets on the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month! On fifth Tuesdays, we have a party day."  Why?  WHY?  I will never know what numbered day of the month and week it is.  I'm doing really good to know that today is Tuesday!  Let alone where it stands in the month.

     This is EMBARRASSING.  School is so hard on me because it seems that all of the communications involve pieces of paper that must be read, signed, and returned on certain days.  Fourth Thursdays are Kindergarteners color co-ordinated clothing day!  Have your kindergartener wear the right color of the month on the fourth Thursday!  It really is difficult on me.  Invariably I will forget and as I watch the orange clad kindergarteners go in while Sarah wears green, I die a thousand deaths.

     So, I'm late.  I'm sorry.  When I do finally agree to a commitment, and learn the routine, I usually do get it right after much forgetting.  It just takes time.

     I've learned that kindergarteners are creative and resilient.  ("Mommy I made an orange breast plate during crayon time!")  I've learned who truly wants to help and who truly loves me.  I've learned to advocate for myself.  I've learned to let go and forgive myself.  Of course I absolutely know that God is backing me and helping me to remember the next time.  I must truly rely on His strength not my own in this area.

     I do have the capacity to make it work most days, but on the days I blow it, please know, I don't mean to.  I'm doing the best I can.  I'll get it right next time.  I promise I will.

Eyes to see

I write this today with one wounded eye
It is red, irritated and looking into light causes immense pain
Today is better than yesterday, but i am reminded of how bad it is when i see others and their response to my wound
My other eye, however is great
Looks, feels and can see great
It is as if my sight is double sided
There was a time in my life when I was spiritually wounded
Not by others, but by my own sin, a choice I had made
You could see it in my face, my heart was not right with The Lord
It caused immense pain to look toward Him, for I knew...
Then there were times I could just get dressed up and waltz into church
Talk the talk and walk the walk, speaking all the Christianese I knew
My spiritual life wass double sided
How about you?
Would you rather just cover up one side of you
Live without authentic community with God
Lord, I pray for healing
I pray that we would recognize and address our wounded eyes in life
Thank you Lord for your healing hand

Our Protector

 

As a child I underwent quite a few surgeries. When I was a middle schooler, one of those surgeries was aborted because one of my lungs collapsed after they put me under anesthesia. When I woke up in the ICU, the medical staff did not realize I had regained consciousness. At one point I overheard the anesthesiologist saying over and over again "please don't die" as he paced at the foot of my bed. I am sure there have been many times the Lord has spared my life when I wasn't even aware I was in any danger.

 

At 1:00 am on May 30, 2012 I awoke to the realization that I was lying in a pool of blood. My husband called our neighbor so one of them would come over and watch our children while he rushed me to the hospital. Over the next several hours the medical staff told me repeatedly that they might have to take my son by c-section to save my life, but if that had happened my son would not have survived because he needed to stay in my womb at least seven more days to be deemed viable by the NICU. It was one of the scariest days of my life. We had several more scares and blood transfusions over the next almost ten weeks that I was hospitalized or on bed rest, but the Lord sustained my life as well as the life of my son, Oliver. As I cuddle him in my arms, I am filled with gratitude that the Lord carried us through a very difficult pregnancy and an at times precarious stay in the NICU. What a great and mighty God we serve!

 

 

Even In This

It is rehearsal time again for Out Of The Ashes, and I am sitting here listening to a new song that was truly birthed "out of the ashes."  Life circumstances are not always pretty or picture perfect, and the circumstances that this song resulted from were some of the most heartbreaking that any parent ever has to walk through.  The song starts with the utter devastation of a father's heart when he realizes that he cannot always protect his children from harm, but it doesn't end there.  Even in this, there is hope.  There is healing.  There is restoration. There is God.  

In getting to know the members of the band and their individual and collective stories, it becomes clear how appropriate the band name is.  Each person has walked through fire, and for some, the journey is still being walked out.  In all of it, God has shown Himself to be faithful, and the story that will emerge from the ashes will undoubtedly touch people's lives in a real and powerful way.  

Even in this, The Son will rise with healing in His wings...

Remember On This Memorial Day

Today is the day we remember those that
have gone before us, those that have stood
their ground for the things we all hold dear.
Those that have bleed & died for our Freedom.

Thank you cannot scratch the surface of how far &

deep our gratitude should go. We also need to 

remember that it is God, who infused each person

who has fought for our nation, with the ability to

do so. He also has put people in place at home, to

pray for all people, in all the wars, we have ever

fought. This is also a war waged. However, it does 

not see blood, but rather it sees sweat, bended knees, 

& tears. It sees God's Spirit groaning in unutterable 

groans on behalf of those that are fighting in both wars.

If you have been in the company of those who
have fought for liberty, truth & the pursuit of
happiness, count yourself blessed. If you have been

in the presence, or have been one who has prayed,

for those fighting in any war, consider yourself 

blessed of God, to be in their presence or to have 

been called to pray. Remember, those who have 

sacrificed for our nation, this Memorial Day.

Memorial Day

Dear Grandad,

I never had the privilege of meeting you, but I wish I could have known you. I think my dad looks a lot like you.  I have heard only bits and pieces about your life...mostly about your military service and  how your surveying skills during WWII directly impacted the fall of Germany.

I wonder if you felt a sense of destiny that April morning, or if it was just like any other day. I can't begin to imagine the thoughts that ran through Granny's mind as she opened the door to receive that dreaded telegram from the war department.

I wasn't there when your casket was shipped home with a purple heart inside, but I want you to know how proud of you I am for making the ultimate sacrifice for your country. Because of your courage...I know life and freedom that may have been lost.

Your family and country have not only survived...we have thrived!

William Frederick Kincaid Sr.
US Army
Killed on active duty in April 1945
God Bless America!!!

Invention

Sometimes I think my best way of praising God is making things up.  I've been doing it since I was a child and I most enjoy doing it for children.  I am currently writing a VBS about medieval monasticism complete with visiting saints, silly games, serious crafts, and weirdly appropriate snacks.  It feels so good to be doing this that I wonder why I stopped.  That's when I remember six children, a novel, two blogs, homeschool co-op classes, and a husband who likes a little attention now and then.  I guess I keep pretty busy.  I hope it rings true as praise from my heart.

Celebrate!

Image from: http://www.probono.net/images/areas/319/Confetti.jpg

       

  Celebrate!

Celebrate in the good times

When the sun shines on your face

Savor each precious moment

When you feel that touch of Grace

But Celebrate in the bad times

When the world has turned its back

Cherish those still around you

When you keenly feel your lack

Every moment of living

Is a gift from God above

So Celebrate! For your Nothing

Is made everything through Love

Blurry.

OK.  I wear glasses.  Thick.  Huge.  Wide.  Glasses.  I have worn glasses since I was 5.  There was that brief stint in hard contact lenses, but for at least 90% of my life since age 5--glasses.

There have been plastic ones, wire ones, big ones, small ones, red ones, purple ones, tortoise shell, and gold.

I have hated them all.

They make my nose slimy.  They make my eyes look small.  When I was little, I was called four eyes.  I have toyed with the idea of lasik, but really, what if they blind me and my vision is even worse after?????

Of course, this is the part where the obvious thing to say would be, I can afford glasses, I can see, God loves me, and all that stuff.  That is all very true.  I should be grateful and happy to see and thrilled with my lot in life.  But truly, if I could ditch them I totally would.  in .  a . hearbeat.

Why am I so dissatisfied?  .....   vanity  .......

There I said it.  I'm pretty and I want people to see my face.  

I then think of my Grandmother Donnelly.  Some of you knew her and you should be so lucky as to have known her.  She was STUNNING.  except.....her teeth, they were a little crooked.

She hated them every day of her life.

I have no picture of her laughing, stunning, open-mouthed smile.  I try so hard to remember it.  The enthusiastic, glorious sound of it echos in my ears and, oh, how I want to see it.  Yet, as I thumb through the picture books.  It isn't there.    Every time the cameras came out her mouth closed.  The shy smile she had perfected came out.  

My lesson is to rock my glasses.  Try my hardest to find anything even remotely fashionable and even if they still end up blocking half of my face, so be it.  

After all.

I can afford glasses, I can see, God loves me, and all that stuff. 

Counting blessings

Priceless sweet moments of daily life
I capture them with a click of a button
Giving thanks for each one
Recognizing where each blessing is from
A gift from the one who created all
And even the moments that aren't picture perfect
I am reminded
Of mamas with empty arms
Kiddos who will not return home
Never to smush peanut butter on windows again
So, I am greatfull
For even the messy

Just Sit Down

Recently I had the pleasure of spending time with a relative I hadn't seen in more than ten years. I couldn't wait to introduce her to my three children. Even though we arrived a bit later than I had told her we would, she asked us to wait for 15 minutes in the parking lot so she could give her dog a bath. We got together with her three times over a span of ten days. What was most important to me was spending time with her, but at each visit we spent a large part of the time apart from her because she was busy doing something else. We spent a good bit of time sitting on her patio while she was gathering some gifts, party hats, and preparing a cake. I was very touched by her generosity and thoughtfulness, but the best gift she could have given would have been to sit down and just visit with the five of us. I've never asked guests to stay outside so I could give a pet a bath, but I am sure there have been times I've done the dishes when I should have just sat down and enjoyed our company. It reminded me of the story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10:38-42. Jesus told Martha, "You are worried and upset over all these details, but there is only one thing worth being concerned about." The next time I'm tempted to behave like Martha, I hope I'll remember this experience and just sit down and put all my focus on my guests.

Uncorked

I am sitting in Out Of The Ashes' rehearsal tonight, listening to the creativity that has been unleashed since their recording session several weeks ago.  Last year was a year of waiting on the Lord, developing songwriting skills, and waiting on the Lord; a very frustrating year for my task-oriented husband, who was beginning to wonder if anything would ever happen.  There were no concerts or travel, only a vision for a recording at some point in the not-too-distant future.  During that time, they developed two original songs; one written by my sister, and the other by my husband.

As I said, several weeks ago Out Of The Ashes recorded those two songs along with two covers.  I was able to be there to watch the whole process, and I watched each band member be challenged and pushed, sometimes almost to the breaking point.  There were some overwhelmingly emotional moments; we all sat and wept as we listened to my sister record the vocals to her song, Little Girl Lost.  The last song, Higher, stretched everyone the most, and the results blew us all away as God showed up in the studio.

Since then, the emails, phone calls and texts have been flying, and new songs, arrangements and ideas have been flowing like a rushing river out of each member.  The excitement and inspiration within the band is palpable.  There were also previously undiscovered giftings and talents that were revealed that weekend that are being developed, as well as opportunities for Jeanne's original song to possibly be used by some national organizations.  The first concert is coming up at the end of the month, and I am so excited to see what God is going to do that night, and where this is all going to lead!

A Healing Gift

The first Mother's Day after I gave my son to a wonderful Christian couple to adopt my boss asked me if I was a mother. He was buying all the mothers roses and needed to 

know how many to purchase. I told him I had a son that I had given to a couple to adopt. When the time came to give each mother a rose, I didn't get one. That hurt me.

I have been blessed by God, to have a relationship with my son and his family throughout his, now 16, years. His birthday is often next to, or on Mother's Day. This year, my mother, husband, daughter and I went to visit, for Luke's birthday and stayed for Mother's Day. This was the first Mother's Day I was ever with Luke. This year after we all went to his church together, which was another first, Luke gave me a rose, card and candy. My first gifts from him for Mother's Day. I told him of the rose I did not receive, the first mother's Day after he was born, and that 15 years later, he gave me that rose. He leaned over and gave me a big hug. The rose and that hug, were God's healing touch I had longed for and finally received. God knows exactly what we need, when and how to give it to us. Joel 2:25

"So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten,". Praise God for restoration and His healing touch.

Reply to: Reply to Christine Ansorge

Send