He Knows my Name!!!

This story about about to tell you happened last Christmas and I'm finally getting around to sharing it with you, as it's almost Christmas this year. 

I love everything about Christmas, except going to the mall.  I have to be pulled kicking and screaming, but I finally give in, for the sake of my kids.  Last year, my youngest, who was 6 at the time, was begging to see Santa Claus.  She just HAD to see him and sit on his lap, or he wouldn't have the slightest clue what to bring to her.  One afternoon, I finally took her to the mall.  We stood in line for quite some time, just to see Santa.  All the kids were excited, everyone is smiling and laughing and actually having a good time, while waiting in the long, long line.  As we approached the front, the helper "elf" discreetly asked me my child's name.  I told her and she wrote it down on a dry erase board.  As it came to my daughter's turn, the "elf" held the board for Santa to see her name (without my daughter seeing the board).

Santa eyes became bright, he smiled a huge grin, held out his arms and said, "Ireland, I've been waiting for you!"

Ireland, turned to me, eyes huge and bright, smiling so big and said, "Mommy!  He knows my name!" She turned and ran to Santa's outstretched arms, he lifted her up laughing, plopped her in his lap and began to listen to her talk.

I'm sure I was the only mother in line that had tears in her eyes.  Because at that moment, it became a "God" moment for me.  When at the end, before Jesus says, "well done, my good and faithful servant,"  I can picture those in Christ standing in line with excitement, smiles and laughter and when it's our turn, He will hold out his arms, say our name that has been written in his Book of Life and say, "I've been waiting for you!!!!"  We will run to his outstretched arms praising our Heavenly Father because He Knows Our Name!!!!

The Busy-ness of Life

Who isn't "busy" these days?  There are constant meetings at work, kids shuffling from practice to practice, homework to be finished, supper to picked-up through the drive-thru, forgotten laundry (until a certain pair of jeans are needed), a dog left outside in the rain overnight because Mom was exhausted and fell asleep before letting him back in the house....add in your own busy-ness to this paragraph.

Gone are the days where we'd sit on the front porch, enjoying the cool of the evening, catching fireflies, watching the kids swinging on the swingset and just taking a "breather" to wind down from a busy day. Today we are exhausted from the day and fall into bed, hoping to get a few hours reprieve before we start it all over again the next morning.

This morning, as I tried to squeeze in a bit of God time, I thought about this.  I try my best every morning to sit down with my coffee, read a little bit of my Bible (and yes, some days, it's truly just a little bit!), and talk to God about the day ahead.  This morning, as I'm rushing about (I still have dishes soaking in the sink that are waiting on my as I type - and a load of laundry that needs to be put in the dryer, hey, but the dog is inside out of the rain, so I'm at least on top of one thing), I made myself sit down (with my coffee) and spent time with God.  Not just, "hey God, what's up?  Here's my list of things I need from you today....." I could actually see him patiently waiting on me to come to Him.  I picture him, sitting there, legs crossed, smiling, patiently waiting (as he sees me walk past the dishes, decide to put more in the water to soak, turn down the tv, place coffee cup in hand, walk toward the couch, see a pair of socks that missed the washer, detour to the laundry room, see towels that I folded and really need to be put in the bathroom, head toward the bathroom, coffee still in hand but now is cold, stop by the coffee pot and re-heat the coffee, pass by the counter and see the peanut butter spot, go back to the sink to get the rag to wipe it up before I forget.......do you see what I'm getting at?  The entire time, God is smiling at me and saying, "I'm waiting....."

But God shouldn't have to wait His turn, right?  Put Him first and all other things will fall into place.  I make my way to the couch (with the warmed up coffee), sit down, take a deep breath and begin talking to Him (in my head, not out loud, the dog would have begin looking at me strangely).  I told God about all the busy-ness in my life; working 2 jobs, meeting deadlines, the messy house that's beginning to overwhelm me, kids homework that is out of control (what do they actually work on at school?), this blog that I want to write on everyday, but not one extra moment to squeeze in to do it, and let's not even talk about time for exercise!!!   But instead of "God, this is my to-do list for you today.  Can you check it off as you go, that way I know You've covered it and I don't have to worry about it anymore...."  Don't we all do that?  I want to hang my head in shame.  Lord God, I am SO sorry.  In my busy-ness of life, you've become just one more thing to check off my list of things to do.

I don't want it to be that way.  I WANT to spend time with God.  He WANTS to spend time with me and longs for me to reach out to him.  In talking with him this morning, (I think it was only about 7 minutes 32 seconds), but that was a powerful few minutes.  I asked God what he wanted me to do for Him today, and for Him show me how, even during the busy-ness of life.  That's when I realized I can talk to him all day long!  Thank you God that my children are happy and healthy and can be in sports and band, and that I have a dependable car that gets us to and fro.  Thank you God that I have food to eat that dirties all these dishes in the sink.  Thank you God that I have electricity and running water so that I can wash the clothes that you have provided for us.  The list goes on and on! 

When you are feeling too busy, too overwhelmed, come to His shelter and remember the words of David, "I pour out my complaints before him and tell him my troubles.  For I am overwhelmed, and you alone know the way I should turn . . . Then I pray to you, O Lord. I say, 'You are my place of refuge, 'You are all I really want in life." Psalm 142: 2 - 5

During the busy-ness of our day today, ask God to give us strength not to just get through the day, but also remember to praise Him and talk to Him all day long and thank Him for another day He's given us, to let His light shine through us, even through all the crazy, busy-ness of life!

Not Alone

It's been quite awhile since I've updated my blog.  Summer was upon us, work was busy, kids were traveling, husband was out of town, one child had surgery and life was hectic.  Just as quickly as summer had begun, it was over and the kids were returning to school.  Where did the time go, and what exactly had I done all summer?  It seems as if each moment was swept away just as quick as it came and some days, I don't even remember what it was about, except busy-ness.

This past weekend, I attended a Women of Faith conference in Indianapolis (www.womenoffaith.com ).  What a crazy 2 weeks it was before I was supposed to leave to have a "girl" weekend and some God time.  My husband is a State Trooper and had been out of town to work at the Indiana State Fair.  I was a single Mom for about a week and a half and after day one, I began to pray for all the single Moms and Dads in the world.  The night my husband left, my washing machine died.  The repairman couldn't come for about 5 days, so I had to lug dirty clothes to my in-laws house to wash them (to which I'm grateful their machine was working!).  Two days later, the bathroom light burned out.  The next day, I went to work and realized that when I returned home, I would have to cook dinner.  (gasp!)  My husband is the cook in the family and has dinner on the table every night when I get home from work (and he cleans as he goes too! Yes, Ladies, he's all mine and you can't have him.)  So day 5 of my husband being gone, I came home and had to figure out how to light the grill.  Yay!  I figured it out and Katie fixed the whole supper for us while the repairman raised the washing machine from the dead.  Since it was dead for 4 days, just like in the Bible, I've name him Lazarus. 

Ol' Lazarus was up and running, supper was on the table and life was good.  Until the next day.  While eating re-heated frozen pizza for dinner (cooking only last one night while the hubby was gone), I broke off half of my wisdom tooth.  (Yes, I'm 38 years old and have never had my wisdom teeth taken out).  So, I'm currently walking around with a snaggletooth until I can have surgery next week to yank out all of them.

My point in giving you a minute by minute play of my week before the conference is that I knew there had to be a blessing just around the bend because of all the stuff being thrown at me.  My good friend, Wendy, and I left early Friday morning after putting the kids on the bus and raced to Indy to try to get there before it started. 

We arrived to a huge stadium that would be filled with about 10,000 women.  Wow.  That many women, gathered to learn about and praise God, was an awesome sight and experience.  The speakers were wonderful and each said something that was reflected in my own life and that I needed to hear.  I laughed and I cried, until I was near dehydration because of all the tears.

Some points stuck out more than others and one in particular is what I have remembered since leaving the conference.  In one story, speaker Sheila Walsh (http://www.womenoffaith.com/events/line-up/sheila-walsh/), talked about a time that she was hospitalized and that someone came to visit her.  To really understand her story, you would have to hear her tell it, but the words someone told her was this:  "The Shepherd knows where to find you."
In my life there has been times that I just felt I was alone in my struggles or no one understanding what I was going through.  There were times that I felt I wasn't good enough for God to love me.  Things that I had done that would disappoint Him so much that He would give up on me and leave me.  But hearing those words Sheila said, "The Shepherd knows where to find you,"  grasped me and hasn't let go.  Powerful. 

At times when I would mentally huddle in my corner of sadness, hiding from the world, because if I could just keep it all bottled inside, no one would know that I was hurting on the inside.  I'm the tough girl, who never cries, has it all together, and encourages others.  Except when I'm alone.  I'm by myself and no one can see me cry, no one can see that I've lost my cool in tough situations and I feel utterly alone. 

But I'm not.  I am not alone because "the Shepherd knows where to find me."  He has never left my side, not once.  Not while I'm keeping up the charade that all is well, that I'm not afraid, that I'm not anxious or worried.  Never has He left my side.  He knows where to find me and He knows where to find you and will give you comfort, peace, strength and anything else that you need to make it through the day.  You just have to come out from being huddled in the corner, stand firm in your faith and call out to Him.  He knows where to find you, you just have to reach out in faith and take His hand.

This conference changed my thinking and the way I've went about daily life since.  At the beginning of this story, I talked about the busy-ness of life and how I didn't even remember what happened some days due to the busy-ness.  Did I even talk to God on those days?  This week I have been more conscious of making time and taking time to just spend with Him.  That's what He longs for.  In the car, I've turned down the radio and prayed for my husband and children.  While doing the dishes, I've talked to Him about what he wants me to do for him this week.  While drinking my coffee in the morning, I ask Him for guidance for the day. 

No matter where I am; in the car, running kids everywhere, busy at work with hardly time to go to the bathroom, and so tired sometimes I just want to sit and stare, the Shepherd knows where to find me. And now, I know where to find Him, right beside me, all day long, every moment of the day or night, encouraging me while I encourage others, drying my tears as I cry on His shoulder, taking away the worry and anxiety that the Devil tries to throw my way.

Don't try to hide.  Don't try to go it alone.  The Shepherd knows where to find you.  Let Him find you, take your hand and guide you to where He wants you to be.  He will give you strength and courage. 

You are not alone.

Ever.

My Kindle Made Me Do It....

or not do it, I should say.  I love to read.  I used to lock myself in my bedroom when I was a teenager and lose myself in a book.  On Mother's Day, the girls and my hubby surprised me with a Kindle.  I can NOT put it down!  Every moment I have free, I stop to read.  Even if I have just 5 minutes, I delve into a book I'm reading.  I've even started carrying a large purse (gasp!).  I hate carrying a purse, let alone a big one, but my Kindle made me do it!  I take it everywhere with me, so I can read in the doctor's office, the line at the grocery and even at a stoplight (ok, not really, but I've been tempted if I'd left off at a good part in the book).

Another thing I love to do is sew.  I finally put the Kindle down long enough to sew a case for it.  Those are

pockets on the left side of it. If I could sew a place for my lipstick, then I probably wouldn't need my purse.... 

Here is a picture of it closed.  The button is from Mama's button box!

So, when the dishes are piled in the sink and haven't been washed... the Kindle made me do it (or not do it).  The dog needs fed?  Sorry Frank, give me five minutes, I'm reading my Kindle. The girls missed the bus?  The Kindle made me do it!  I'm going to lunch early today, I have to get back to that book I'm reading...on my Kindle.

My blog hasn't been updated in a month?  The Kindle made me do it!  (So, I decided to finally update my Blog... and write about my Kindle). 

Out of Africa: God is in Control

(Me, feeding a giraffe along side the road, after leaving an Aids Orphanage in Nairobi)

Psalm 121:1,2 and 7,8

"I lift my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth...The Lord will keep you from all harm - he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore."

I was raised in church and my parents taught me about Jesus since I was a little girl.  I loved Jesus and asked him into my heart when I was about 10.  Years later, I rededicated my life to him and was baptized two days before 9/11.  But sometimes, there comes an "aha" moment when it all comes together and you truly understand what God is all about.  I've had many "aha" moments throughout my life, but none like what happened when, in 2006, I travelled to Africa.  I could tell many stories about my 3 week trip to Kenya and Ethiopia, but for this moment, I just want to share one in particluar.

My two daughters were young, Ireland was not quite 2 years old and Katie turned 7 while I was in Nairobi.  My husband agreed to take on the parenting while I travelled halfway across the world.  At the time, I worked in the international division of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. and one of our missionaries was planning a conference for women in Africa.  She needed to travel back to the region, but had some health issues.  My boss decided to send me with her, along with a doctor friend, in case there were any issues. 

For those of you who do not know, I HATE to fly, with a passion.  Can't stand flying... big machines like that should just not defy gravity and stay in the air.  The other reason I don't like flying is that I'm not in control.  I want to be the pilot - I have to know everything is ok, checks were made, oil was changed, or whatever they do to make sure the plane is safe, I want to be in charge and in control of the aircraft.  Well, knowing that's not a possibly, I have to trust that this was a trip I was supposed to take (after much prayer about if I should go or not!) and that everything was going to be ok.  I had a choice of flying 8 hours across the ocean and then after a long layover in Amsterdam, another 8 hours to Kenya.  Or, I could have flown an approximate 16 hr straight trip to Kenya.  I didn't want to fly the 30 minutes to Chicago, let alone 16 hours in one vessel (can they hold that much fuel?), so I chose the 2 seperate flights.  I arrive in Chicago and look out the window at our plane that would be flying us to Amsterdam.  It was a two story plane.  I've never in my life seen something so big.  Were they sure this could stay in the air?  I was pretty sure it was too heavy.  But trusting in God, I stepped on the plane. 

The above verse (Psalm 121) is one of my very favorite verses.  I recite that whenever I need to remember that God is there all the time, with me, supporting me, protecting me.  Let's just say, I think I said that verse for 8 solid hours.  We landed in Amsterdam at sunrise.  I've never seen anything so beautiful.  I had no idea that it was only going to get better.  After a long layover, I boarded another plane, and prayed for another 8 hours (as we traveled over Venice, the Meditteranean and even the Saraha Desert).  I was in awe and amazement of what this looked like from the air!  God is so amazing!

Now I need to fast forward or I will be typing for 3 years telling my many Africa stories....After a few weeks, we were in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (the Capital City).  We then were to travel to a village called Gambella.  Three weeks before I arrived, people were not allowed to travel to that village due to Muslims were beheading Christians that wouldn't renounce their faith.  That was an eye-opener.  Here I just came from a country where I am free to worship anytime I want, and these people who loved Jesus and were Christians were behing beheaded!  Now that I was here, the trouble had stopped and they said we could go on into the village. (yay.....)  We boarded yet another plane....one that, after we landed, my traveling companion had told me was one of the most hijacked airlines ever....glad she didn't tell me that before or I would have waiting in the capital for her to return.  

We arrived in Gambella and stayed for a few days (which, I could tell many stories about the week we stayed there!  But I'm trying to get to my point, just need to give you some background...). 

Here is the church that we were able to worship in on that Sunday. 

  Here is the inside of the church:

Here was the inside of the church that became packed that Sunday morning.  People were hanging in the windows to hear the preaching.  They sat us in the front row and someone from the village translated the sermon into my ear.  It was about 110 degrees outside, so probably a bit hotter in the church, and we worshipped for 3 hours!  What I was thinking about during that service was that three weeks ago, these people were being beheaded for worshipping God and hear I sat, knowing that any moment, there could be trouble again.  When back home in America, how many times had I not gone to church because I just wanted to sleep in.  These people wanted to go to church and didn't stay home just because they could be killed!  They were worshipping God in the midst of all the trouble. This is where my "aha" moment began to take shape...

We were in the villages of East and West Gambella.  There wasn't electricity, hot water or communications.  We were there for 5 days.  During the week, we travelled back and forth between West and East Gambella, which was just a short walk.  Here is how they decorated their huts - look at the bottom for the designs....

I remember nights I'd lay awake underneath my mosquito net, terrified of the gecko that taunted me, scared of the huge millipedes and other insects I couldn't identify, wondering what my husband and children were doing back home.  There were a few nights that I let the tears flow as I hadn't talked to anyone in my family due to lack of communications, how did they even know I was alive?  I would recite Psalm 121 and it would calm my soul.

At the end of several days, we travelled to another village called Mizan Tefri.  It was a 12 hour drive from Gambella to Mizan.  That was an exciting trip and I could add many more stories (being attacked by fire ants, the bumpy ride, the people walking that I didn't know where they came from or where they were going, etc etc).

 Here are children excited to see us.  I waved at them and they waved at us until we couldn't see each other anymore.

We arrived in Mizan and stayed there for several days.  This was a beautiful place and we had a very nice missionary home that we stayed in.  The people were amazing and I fell in love with them and this place.  Once it was close to time to head back to the capital city (another 12 hour drive) we received word that there was trouble on the road (more muslims killing Christians) and it probably wasn't safe for 4 traveling white women to be on the road.  We were advised to charter a plane.  A plane????  Just great, another plane ride.  And I knew what chartering a plane meant.  It wasn't going to be a double decker plane like I'd travelled in style in on the way to Amsterdam.  That one wasn't supposed to stay in the air because it was too big.  This one probably wouldn't stay in the air because it was too small!  I didn't remember seeing an airport, so I asked where this plane was going to pick us up...I think I remember them just patting my leg and laughing.  I was the only one in the group who had never been to Africa, and most of my group had lived in Africa for several months at some point or another, so I gave them many laughs while on this trip.

One saying I learned in Africa was that "Americans have watches, Africans have time."  How true I discovered this to be.  We woke up the morning we were to meet the plane and I was excited about getting back to the Capital because this meant it was close to going back home to my family.  We were supposed to meet the plane at 3:30pm (which in Africa could be 2:00 or it could be 5:00...just whenever they got around to it.).  They drove us to the airfield.  We arrived and I couldn't find the blacktop landing strip. Where was the airport? And yes, I had to ask....

Here is a picture of the airstrip.  It was covered with people and animals...We were there for several hours, just waiting on the plane.  We decided to have lunch.  Here we are waiting on our food...(I'm the one playing with my ponytail).

The Injera bread arrived.  There were no utensils and everyone shared the meal.  You just pulled off a piece of bread and dipped it in the lentils or whatever else was there (I didn't ask, I just ate it).  It was actually very tasty.  The darker it was, the hotter it was...

Here comes the plane!  It had to buzz the airfield to get all the animals off the field.  One little donkey was quite stubborn and the plane had to follow him to get him off the field.

The plane arrives and I am so very nervous.  Just getting on that tiny plane and not being in control of it made me almost sick to my stomach.  I had not talked to anyone in my family in many, many days.  For all they know, I could be dead.  I really was thinking these things!  I looked around the air strip and we were down in a valley, with moutains and hills all around.  How did I know that we weren't going to take off and a donkey run in front of us and crash the plane?  How did I know that we weren't going to crash right into the mountain side.  How many stories had I heard about planes crashing into mountains and no one knew they were dead until weeks later? 
As I looked up and saw the mountains, and I remembered the Psalm that I had been reciting since the beginning of the trip, "I lift my eyes unto the hills - where does my help come from...?"  I began praying and thanking God for the trip. Many times during this trip I had become closer to God and this was just another step in that direction.  I began reciting the Psalm and praying that God bring me back to my family safely.

We quickly boarded the plane - I think it sat 6 people.  Remember I hate flying and I wanted to be the pilot so I could be in control?  This is the smallest plane I'd ever been on and I was the closest to being the pilot that I'd ever be, as I was able to sit right behind him!

We took off very quickly and I remember shutting my eyes, praying that the donkey wouldn't run in front of us.  I don't know why I was so terrified of this plane ride.  I think it was truly because I hadn't had any contact with my family and I thought that the last thing they would hear about me was that I'd crashed into a mountainside.  I closed my eyes and recited that Psalm again and again. I was almost to the point of hyperventilation as I opened my eyes and all I could see was mountain/hills directly in front of us.  The pilot pulled up the plane and then we were engulfed in clouds so thick, I couldn't see the mountains anymore.  If I couldn't see them, then netiher could the pilot!  I remember he pushed a button that read "ON".  He looked confused and pushed it again.  He then pushed the "ON" button once again.  My thoughts were, after he pushed the button several times, was, "WHAT IS NOT COMING ON???"  There was something that was supposed to come on, and it wasn't coming on!!  Either the pilot gave up, or it came on, because he stopped pushing the button.  The pilot then brought out a map and began pointing to it.  Oh great!  Did he not know where we were??  As you can see in the picture below, all I can see is Pilot, Map and white clouds.  Where were we and how was he making sure we weren't going to go into the mountainside??? 

God began quietly telling me through the Psalm that my help comes from Him.  He will calm my fears and take care of me.  He was saying Trust in Me. I will return you safely to your family.  I am in Control.  Not you.  

That's right!  GOD is in control.  NOT ME!  I was so concerned that the pilot didn't know what he was doing, that I didn't know how to fly a plane - so I couldn't help, that all these factors were causing my irrational fear, when I wasn't really ever in control - God is!  He pulled me through many situations during this trip (remember I mentioned the fire ants!) and he was in control of this situation.  I had my eyes closed and was praying and having this conversation with God when He told me to open my eyes.

Really, are you sure God?  Because I'd really like to keep them closed til this plane ride is over.  I'm trusting you, but it's easier to do that with my eyes closed because I can't see anything that we are about to crash into.... He said, "My Child - open your eyes"... so I did (I think I opened them one at a time, very slowly...).

At that moment, the solid white clouds parted and we were flying beside the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen. 

(We were able to get a picture of it, but it doesn't do it justice, it truly was a beautiful rainbow).

That moment was my "AHA" moment!  God IS in contol.  We have to trust him completely, in EVERY situation.  Once I opened my eyes and trusted God, he provided for me.  He provided safety (we landed the plane about an hour later and saw a beautiful sunset), he provided beauty (there were no more clouds and it was clear flying.  I was able to see beautiful landscapes) and he proved to me the knowledge that I COULD trust Him. 

(Note the huts you can see from the air...)

I always thought that I was the one always in control, and I would think "yes, I'll trust you God, if we can just do things my way...."  During this trip, He changed my thought process.

This trip taught me many things. This trip changed my life for the better.  I no longer take for granted that I am able to sit in a church, worship God and not worry about being beheaded.  I am able to thank God that I don't have to walk miles to a river to gather water everyday or that I don't have to spend all day preparing food for the one meal that is served at dinner time. 

I thank God the lessons he taught me about completely relying on Him and trusting Him to provide, take care of and sustain me. He will give you strength when you need it and protection when you call on His name.  We are not in control.  God is always in control of our lives we just have to give it all to Him and trust him in every situation.

It is now 2011, and many things have happened in my life since this trip.  I changed jobs and became a police officer (a life-long dream!) - God showed me in many situations that He was in control and provided protection for me and my fellow officers.  Now gas prices are rising, the cost of food sky rocketing and uncertainty is within the world.  But as I remember the trip the changed my life, I remember that God is in control of every action.  He will take care of us and provide for us. 

Just turn to him, call on His name and open your eyes.  You'll see His promise of a rainbow in the darkness surrounding you.  You'll land on solid ground and He will provide for all your needs, for "the Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made...He is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.  He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them." Psalm 145: 13 - 19.

(Another rainbow in Mizan)

(Most Pictures taken by Amy M. and Caryl W.)

Mother's Day

Today's was Mother's Day. I woke to the pitter patter of little feet wanting breakfast. So I made homemade waffles, with some help from Ireland. We ate our waffles with Peanut butter and syrup. Really, is there any other way? I then played on the computer for a little bit while looking out at the fog and rain. I really didn't want it to rain on Mother's day! After lunch, the sun peeked thru the clouds and the skies turned blue. It became a beautiful day after all!

The girls and I went outside to play. They rode their bikes while I sat in a lawn chair reading my new kindle (I just love that thing!). We decided the grass wasn't too wet, so we decided to swing. Katie and Ireland swung (and argued quite a bit), but I sat in the grass and reflected on all my blessings.

The birds were chirping. The squirrels were barking at our pug, the pug was barking at the squirrels. The wind was blowing through the trees, clouds were making shapes overhead and it was a happy day.

Hidden Treasures

As you know from my latest post, the Lake House that was in the family for many years, is no longer. After my grandparents' passed away, my sister bought the Lake House from the estate so that we could all still enjoy it. For several years, we always joked that Mama and Papa had hidden treasure somewhere for us to find. Was it in the garage? In the boat? Underneath the deck? In the well-pump room? Ooh - I bet it was behind the picture that was literally glued to the wall! The Lake House was still furnished and had all of their personal items in it when my sister bought it. We would be going through the cabinets and finding special dishes that would bring back a memory of Mama's famous foods. We'd be out in the boat and find a fishing pole that reminded us of Papa and his catfish (that I would literally eat gagging, just to make him happy, as he thought the taste of catfish was the greatest thing in the world!).
This past Saturday as we were cleaning out the Lake House, we were coming across other things that we hadn't noticed in years. We'd laugh and say, "Oh! I bet that's where they hid the treasure!" One thing that I took home with me was the large woodens stereo - you know the kind from around the 1970's? It has a stereo (AM/FM), record player and an 8-Track tape player. I hadn't seen one of those since I was a kid! When we moved the table that was in front of the stereo, there was a large box and it was filled with 8-track tapes!! I had no idea that those had been there this whole time. I loaded up the stereo with the box of tapes and headed home. We arrived home and set up the stereo and started playing the radio - it sounded like it was brand new! I opened my Hope Chest, which holds all my prized possessions, and brought out my 45 records that I had when I was younger. My daughters thought I'd lost my marbles as I played Shaun Cassidy, Billy Joel, Madonna and Debarge. My daughters had never seen or heard a record player. They were in awe. My 11 year old began looking around and beside the stereo when she asked "Where do the CD's go??"

That's when I pulled out the 8-track tapes. The kids were mesmerized. I put the first one in - it was Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn. Oh, how I could see my Papa tapping his foot (and Mama rolling her eyes!). The kids weren't quite sure what to think of this contraption. But as I started going through the tapes, I started heading down memory lane....there was an Elvis tape - Oh how Mama loved Elvis and Graceland. There was George Jones and Tammy Wynette (who I saw in concert just before she passed away), and there was Box Car Willie (My kids had thought I lost my mind as I started singing "Heaven" along with Willie).

As I shuffled through the tapes, the last tape that I found absolutely brought tears to my eyes as the memories flooded my mind. It was a blue 8-track that was entitled "The Magic Organ, A Magic Christmas". This tape was my absolute FAVORITE when I was little. My Mama would take me and my cousin to Holiday World (Then called Santa Claus Land)every summer. And the entire ride to the park and back, we'd listen to that Magic Organ playing Christmas songs. Once 8-tracks went out of style, Mama knew that I loved that so much, that she made a copy of it onto a regular cassette tape. EVERY Christmas, my family listens to this cassette as we put up our Christmas tree (and every Christmas the kids and hubby roll their eyes, but endure it as they know it's special to Mommy). The cassette tape has all the songs listed in Mama's handwriting and I remember all the times she probably endured that music too because she knew I loved it so much.


So, when I found this box of 8-track tapes and the memory it holds, I realized there wasn't any hidden treasure that they had buried for us to find. The treasure has been around us this entire time! Each snippet of memory that a dish, fishing pole or stereo held was a treasure of memories that Mama and Papa created for us to enjoy for a lifetime. The treasure we joked of finding wasn't a material item that we had to dig up, or that had a monetary value.

The hidden treasure is what they buried deep in our hearts and minds, for their values they taught us, laughs we shared and for their memory to live on to share with our children and grandchildren.

Thank you Mama and Papa for all the love you showed us and for creating memories that I will "treasure" forever.

The Lake House

Many years ago, my grandparents bought a house on Lake Nolin. There is not a summer I can remember that we didn't go to the Lake House. This house holds so many wonderful memories of family gatherings, nights spent with my Papa and Mama, days fishing and swimming in the Lake, and most recently, memories of times with my Mom and sisters', to even a quilting retreat we held there!


When my grandparents' both passed away, my sister bought the property to keep it in the family. We have spent the last several years there making more memories for our children and grandchildren. My sister recently sold the Lake House and yesterday was the last gathering for all of us.


Pictured from left (back row) is Shelley, Eric, Tami, me, Mom, Josh. Front Row: Hannah, Ireland and Katie


Mama and Papa lived at the Lake House all summer long. I remember how beautiful she would keep the yard and all of it's flowers. Papa would fish every morning and Mama would make her daily trip to the Wal-mart. The big attraction for the kids at the Lake House was the huge rope swing. Everytime we went to the Lake House, we'd spend hours on that rope swing. It didn't matter how old we got, we still swung on the swing - I even swung yesterday!

This picture was from a few years ago)

Yesterday, Josh climbed the swing instead of swinging on it. He said he'd always wanted to do that and he made it almost all the way to the top!


We had a wonderful day yesterday, reliving cherished memories. I'm so glad that my children were able to make memories of their own in a place that is so full of love and is so peaceful.

Ireland picking flowers for our picnic lunch.

There are so many memories, that I can't type them all. So, those family members reading my blog - please add your favorite memory as a comment!

Memory Quilts

A little over 2 years ago, I started sewing on my grandmother's sewing machine. I started with little things and it grew into piecing quilts. I was asked a little over a year ago to make a memory quilt for someone. A memory quilt can be anything from baby blankets, bibs and favorite sleepers, to be made into a quilt so those favorite pieces aren't just stored away in a tote somewhere, or a memory quilt can be made from a loved one's clothing that has passed away. You can take that quilt and wrap in it and feel their love surrounding you. The very first quilt I ever made was for a very precious little girl whose police officer Dad was killed in the line of duty. Every piece of the following picture was made from his clothing (T-shirts, dress shirts, shorts and BDU pants):

The piece in the middle that looks like a vest is actually pockets from a pair of shorts. It is covering one of his shirts from the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy. The following picture is what it looks like when it's opened:

After making a quilt for her, I started on one for her Mom. I wanted this one to be made of his clothing, but more "quilt like" in it's pattern. So, anyone looking at it would not realize at first that it was made from his clothing, however, she would know exactly what piece was made from which favorite shirt, shorts and even his pillowcase. It took 6 months to complete this piece as several of the pieces are 1 inch blocks that sewn together make the stars and borders around the large star in the center:

The only material on this quilt that is not his clothing is the dark blue around the edges. Everything else is his clothing. His number was 22-16, so there are 16 stars surrounding the large center star. Total on the piece are 21 stars. I couldn't fit in 22 stars, so I stitched the 22nd star at the top of the quilt (you can't see this in the picture).

Making this quilt was a very emotional experience, but I'm so thankful that the family let me be a part of this.

I am now working on my 3rd quilt, which means that I need to quit writing on my blog and start sewing!

The Caveside Manor Chronicles

I've changed the name of my blog to the Caveside Manor Chronicles. The story begins a LONG time ago when I was in highschool. I met what would later be my husband at my first place of employment, Marengo Cave. I was hired to be a tour guide through a very famous cavern in Southern Indiana. I loved caves and spelunking and all the guides would go spelunking after the tourists left for the day. Fast forward several years to when my husband and I were looking for property to build our home. We found 22 acres with a one-room log cabin, that was used for a hunting cabin. We fell in love with that 22 acres of nothing but hill and forest. But the deciding factor to buy was the cave located on the property. The cave has been mapped at 447 feet and is known by two names "Thundering Hole" or more commonly "Blue River Double Sinks". We bought the property and 2 years later, built our home. Every home has to have a name, right? Since the builders were afraid that they would dig into the cave while building our basement, I came up with the name "Caveside Manor." We have people come every year wanting to go through the cave. To enter the cave though, you have to repel 60 feet to the bottom of the cave. I have been in the cave, but haven't went all the way through it. At the bottom of the 60 feet opening, there is a beautiful drapery formation that is about 20-30 feet tall. It's absolutely amazing. The cave then has a 15 feet long crawl that's only about 1 foot wide. Once you dare to squeeze through that, the cave opens into huge rooms that one can't describe with words. So, that's how the name of this blog was born. We love our wooded hillside and the blessings of the sunrise that come over the hill, thus the picture behind the title!

In Your Face-Book Part 2

Wonder of all wonders, I am somehow mysteriously back in the good graces of Facebook. I lost almost 400 friends last week when the Facebook powers-that-be decided that I had a "fake" Facebook page and that I'd never, ever, ever be allowed on Facebook again, ever. They told me that my violation was so severe that I was not to even think about appealing their decision, as their decision was final. That was their final answer, so to speak. Well, it's a good thing I don't follow rules! I did appeal that decision (a tiny bit of begging ensued) and I waited...and waited...and finally after going through a week of withdrawal while rocking in a corner in the fetal position, I discovered that they reinstated my account yesterday. I thought I would jump up and down, scream from the rooftops and do the Snoopy-happy dance, but I surprised myself. I checked a few notifications, read a smidgeon of posts, posted that I was back online and then made my way over to my new found blog. There is the update of the Facebook drama. You can now read my posts on Facebook, that is limited to 420 characters, or make your way to my blog each week, where I'm certainly not fake and doubt that anyone will ever question that again. You can grab your cup of coffee, read my posts here, hopefully have a laugh or two, be inspired or entertained. Leave me a comment or become a follower. I may not post everyday, but I'm sure when I do, it will be true, not fake, from the heart and most certainly it will be more than 420 characters in length.... May you have a most blessed day!

Are You Smarter than a Kindergartener?

6 year olds are just plain funny. They are funny when they mean to be, and they are funny when they aren't meant to be. Papa visited us last night while Ireland, the 6 year old, was doing her homework. (Yes, I said homework; two pages of subtracting and cutting/pasting). When she was almost finished, she got up and walked over to Papa. "Papa" she says, "will you help me with my homework?" Papa quips, "Well, I'm kind of dumb." Ireland responds, "Well, I know you're dumb Papa, but just do the best you can."

In Your Face-book

So, what made me create a blog? Facebook did. I've been an avid fan of Facebook from the moment I started updating my post 3 years ago (all thanks to Ginnie W!). I posted scripture verses, blessings, funny things my kids said or did, uploaded pictures of vacations or snow days, and of course, posted mundane things that no one really cares about except for me. Facebook helped me stay in contact with my highschool friends, college friends, and my Police Academy friends located throughout the State of Indiana. All this came crashing down last Wednesday. I logged on to Facebook as normal and received a message that Facebook had disabled my account. The reason for the disabling? They had determined I had a fake Facebook page! Their note told me that due to the severity of my violation, I would no longer be allowed to have an account on Facebook and forget even trying to appeal it. Their decision was final. What??? How did they determine my FB page was fake? It was as real as real can get. I finally was able to find a link to where I could appeal their decision. It's been almost a week since the appeal and there has been no response. I've scrambled around trying to find email addresses for the many hundred people I am friends with, to write a note to them explaining the situation. I received so many texts and emails from people asking what had happened to me or if I had defriended them (I'm feeling the love!) and I have assured everyone that there was no defriending on my part! So, stay tuned for the saga of the so-called Fake Facebook page... I'll keep you "posted..."

Today is my Birthday

Oh, my blessed life! Today is my 38th Birthday. My only request was to get to sleep in, and that was thwarted by phone calls and texts coming in, wishing me a happy birthday. Although no extra sleep was found, I was very happy and blessed to wake up to feeling the love of my family and friends! My Mom texted me much later in the morning, she even wrote in her text that she waited, in case I wanted to sleep in. (Thank you Momma!) She reminded me, as she does every year, that when I was born, I weighed 10lbs and 8oz and that my older sisters exlaimed they wanted a baby, not a half grown toddler! She also mentioned that I had a head full of beautiful black hair. Good thing that I've turned into a natural blond later in life (cough cough). I began the day with a plate full of cinammon rolls (a birthday tradition, and yes, the plate was literally full - it's my birthday, I can eat as many as I want...) a cup of coffee and my Bible Study. It is a beautiful day outside on this April 10th and I plan to spend this day with my beautiful daughters and handsome husband who bless me with happiness every day. Thank you God for all the blessings in my life!