Treasures from a Shoebox

I Don't Live Here Anymore

2015-10-10T09:09:00.002-04:00

Hi friends! Just stopping by to let you know that I'm not really writing here anymore. I know that is probably obvious to those of you who follow along, but just in case someone stops by here, I thought I'd let you know that though I've abandoned this blog, I am still very busy writing and sharing over at our family blog The Long Way to Go.

You're welcome to hang out here if you'd like, but don't forget to visit us over at our new place!

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Dear Daddy, A Father's Day Tribute

2015-06-21T07:32:00.000-04:00

I'm re-posting this for Father's Day....

~I wrote this tribute and presented it to my Daddy, Ray Lee George on Father's Day 2008. This framed document sits on the mantle above the fireplace that he built in his beautiful log cabin.~

A Tribute to My Daddy

I know you have many regrets, and as a parent I realize how easy it is to focus on the mistakes we've made with our children. Rarely do we consider what was done right. So I want to take this opportunity as your daughter to tell you what I appreciate most.

I'm not sure what drew you and Mom together, but I do know the breakup was especially difficult for you because of us three children. Thank you, Dad, for not running off to Florida when given the opportunity, even though that probably would have been the easiest road for you to take. You did what real men do: you put your children first.

From the time I was a little girl, you were my Hero. I thought you were the most handsome man in all the world and you drove the coolest truck! Some of my favorite childhood memories were made in that little trailer on Hillside Drive. We girls firmly believed that you needed us to clean for you. Then you would spend the next week hunting for all the things we had put away. There were Friday night races, Saturday afternoon swimming at Bryan Park, jigsaw puzzles, paint-by-number, guitar picking, and Jerry Clower. How I loved to hear you laugh at the antics of Marcel Ledbetter.

I'll never forget all those Christmas mornings you came to whisk us away to Grandma and Grandpa's house for a fun day. Remember the noise? And the laughter! These memories are forever etched in my heart.

Things I've gotten from you: A love of gardening-you have this way of instilling in me excitement and anticipation even in the month of February! I am not easily stressed-out; like you, I choose to wait for things to blow over. We both tend to forgive rather than hold a grudge and to look at the better side of our circumstances. The ordeal with Clyde could have been a cause for bitterness had you not wisely focused on the fact that God gave you an awesome dad in Grandpa. You passed down to me a love of history and enjoyment of writing and story-telling. Oh, and of course, I walk just like you!

Thanks Daddy for being such a wonderful Grandpa to my children and for sharing your childhood memories with us. We all love to hear about Fido, Bill the goat, and how Grandpa gave you a hatchet so you could build log cabins, though Grandma thought you were too young. You've instilled in your grandchildren a sense of adventure and an appreciation of the "simple things in life".

I wanted to honor you this Father's Day by thanking you for all the countless ways you've invested in my life and to say thanks Daddy, for being the man that you are. I love you Daddy!

With Love,

Cheryl

Honor to Whom Honor is Due

Honor Your Momma!

A Tribute to My Mom

Six Weeks to Eternity

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The Story of the Cake Topper

2015-06-03T09:57:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time my oldest daughter Amanda decided she had found “THE ONE” and so when Ryan proposed marriage, she readily accepted. Hence, wedding plans quickly ensued amongst mother and daughter!

The groom-to–be had a bit of a strange request. He told his beautiful bride-to-be that he would agree to do whatever she wanted; he would wear whatever clothing she chose for him and have the wedding wherever she desired. However, he did have one request: He wanted to buy the cake topper. By himself. Strange request indeed!

The big day finally arrived and though the weatherman had grimly predicted rain, the sun shone brightly down on the sweet young couple and their wedding guests, as they pledged their vows to one another next to my herb garden.

The three-tiered cake was beautifully decorated by a friend and had been delivered just that morning, sans a topper. It was placed in a prominent spot on the front lawn.

After months of curiously wondering what had prompted this young man to want to purchase the cake topper, and why he continued to be so secretive, when at last I finally saw the cake topper, I literally cried. From laughter!

The unusual cake topper demanded an explanation to those who marveled. And wondered...

The story I shared went something like this:

The first time our family met Ryan, he had come at Christmas with my nephew Brad. I thought he was a bit strange, and though I’d heard he was interested in Amanda, she didn’t seem to reciprocate the feelings. As the children gathered in the dining room to busy themselves with coloring, Ryan joined in the fun, choosing a Precious Moments coloring book. Five year old MacKenzie was absolutely HORRIFIED when Ryan defiled her coloring book by coloring the hair of the Precious Moments little boy green. GREEN! Later she asked me, “What is wrong with that guy?” I told her that maybe he hadn’t learned to color properly in school.

Several years later I was on the phone with Amanda and during our conversation she spoke to someone in the background then she exclaimed, “Oh Mom; I forgot to tell you; I’m dating Ryan!” Without thinking, I popped off, “Ryan? I hope it’s not the freaky guy who came to Christmas; the one who colored the Precious Moments’ boy’s hair green!” Amanda laughed and repeated my words to the mystery person in the room before saying, “Well Mom...he really has changed!”

Oh my word! "But you just told him what I had said!"

In light of this story, the cake topper made perfect sense to every person attending the wedding.

Now how could a mother not totally love a guy like that?!

Today Ryan and Amanda celebrate 9 years of marriage!

They have had many joys during this time, especially my three grandbabies: soon-to-be eight year old Aiden, six year old Jade, and 2 year old Mila,

Photo Credit: Ann Schertz Photography

Though this couple has weathered some severe trials, today their marriage is stronger than ever. They have one of the best marriages of any two people we know and Terry and I are very proud of them!

Happy 9th Anniversary Ryan and Amanda!

Note: This was originally posted in 2011, but has been updated.

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Stepping Away

2015-05-19T08:56:00.001-04:00

I was afraid this might happen.

When we decided to start the family blog, I was determined to continue writing here at this place that I've known so well at least every other week, if not weekly. Seriously; that sounds doable--right?

The Long Way to Go went live April 6 and at first I was able to maintain both blogs. And friends, I've got to tell you, I really enjoy working with my girls over at the other blog! I am calling out the writer in each of my daughters and taking joy in watching them grow in that, as they hone not only their writing skills, but their beliefs and convictions, as well. Borrowing words from a McDonald's ad: I'm lovin' it!

However.

In case you haven't noticed, things have been a bit quiet around here lately. At times it seems I've abandoned the Shoebox. *sniff. This is not intentional, but it is necessary for now.

You see, in spite of the fact that my husband calls me "Super-Woman", I am finding that I really can't do it all (let's keep that between us; shall we?). Running a home, teaching my children, keeping up with laundry, gardening, 4H projects, being involved in all the fun-crazy schemes the older girls come up with, plus maintaining two blogs while working on an eBook and a few other things going on around here that I'm not ready to tell you about just yet. My life is crazy-busy, but as I like to say, "At least I'm not bored; right?"

Each time I think about the Shoebox and the fact that I have nothing to post and no time to write even if the inspiration was there, I feel anxious. I don't like that.

So here's the deal. I'm going to take myself off the hook by taking the next month or so off, away from the Shoebox. I need to re-gain a sense of purpose here and figure out where things are headed with this blog. The focus at The Long Way is vastly different than the Shoebox and I don't really want to shut it down or walk away. But I do need a sense of direction.

So this isn't "Goodbye" but rather "See ya later, friend".

In the meantime, you can catch up with me and the girls over at The Long Way to Go!
Here are some of the things we've posted over there lately:

Dear Young Man, Here's How to Be Friends with My Daughter
3 Boundaries in Boy/Girl Relationships
What We Really Think of Our Mom (a tribute written by my daughters)
Is Courtship Ideal?
Wesley and Haley's Love Story
How to Guard Your Heart (a guest post by a guy friend)
Call Me A Prude (MacKenzie's first post!)
And a whole series on training to be a Titus 2 woman

Also, if you have any suggestions or ideas of topics you would be interested in reading about--either here or at the new blog-- I would really appreciate hearing from you!

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A Gift for My Daddy

2015-05-01T08:47:00.000-04:00

Last week here at the Shoebox, I shared two stories about my step-mom. The first post–The Hand-Picked Step-Mom— explains how my sister and I chose her for our Daddy.

In the second story,–Six Weeks to Eternity— which went live on the 5th anniversary of her death, I told “the rest of the story”, of how we were able to help Daddy fulfill her request that she be allowed to die at home.

What Daddy didn't know that day as he read the tribute I had written about his dear wife, was that we were at home busily finishing up a gift to present to him that evening when he came for a dinner to celebrate April birthdays: Emily, Sam, and our Uncle Larry.

You can read all about it and see photos of The Memory Quilt over at our new blog The Long Way to Go.

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When I Begged God for A Friend

2015-04-29T07:32:00.000-04:00

It was the darkest moment of my life.

I remember aimlessly wondering through the house, nervously pacing each room, not really knowing what I was looking for, or hoped to find. As I entered the kitchen and saw Terry standing there alone, leaning against the counter for support, with tears running down my face, I said, “I don’t know where to go; YOU are the one I always run to for comfort, but this time, you are the one who is causing my pain.”

On this hard day, his infidelity had been revealed and I had never felt this kind of pain before. It was a dark moment indeed.

Photo credit

In my testimony I've shared how the Lord used the pain in my heart to lead me to Himself. Though I don’t believe the sins within our marriage were God’s will, He alone knew that I was too proud and stubborn to ever come to Him on His terms. One thing about being in a pit (even one you’ve dug for yourself); there is nowhere to look, but UP!

As soon as Terry and I had surrendered our hearts and committed to following Jesus Christ, our lives were radically changed. I looked around one day and discovered we were alone; completely and utterly all alone. Family members and friends had begun to turn away from us. One friend stated that she could be there for me if I had chosen divorce, but she couldn’t sit back and watch me get hurt again. Some thought we had joined a cult (looking back now, I can’t say I blame them!), others thought we were unrealistic in thinking our marriage could survive the crisis. For various reasons, every person who had been in our lives prior to January 1997 had suddenly vanished. It was such a hard time, especially for me; the more "social" one.

It was obvious during that dark season, that I needed more comfort than ever before, but there was no one to soothe my pain. Once, I had attempted to share my heart with a family member and was callously told, “You’ve made your bed, now lay in it!” I never felt it appropriate to open my heart to Pastor, but he did send some women from the church to talk with me. I didn’t know them well enough to trust them with my pain. I never believed they could relate anyway. Bringing up the past only seemed to hurt Terry, so we avoided that subject altogether.

I remember crying out to Jesus to PLEASE send me a friend. One who could relate to what I was going through. A friend who would listen to me, and speak words of comfort and give me advice. Didn't He care that I had no one to share my pain with; no one to comfort me or to encourage me in this battle?

During the first year we were saved, every time a memory would overwhelm me (which was often) or I felt discouraged by a difficult relationship, or afraid of a new challenge, I would take these oppressive feelings to Jesus. Slowly I learned how to come to Him with an open heart and to pour out every ugly thought and painful memory. And soon I discovered that after these "cleansing sessions", I always felt so much better, as though my heart was mending.

As the Lord began to answer specific requests and needs that I had shared with no one else but Jesus, my faith in Him grew by leaps and bounds. I had learned to put my trust in Him and found my Lord and Savior to be faithful indeed!

Eventually, the Lord did see fit to send me a friend. Several dear friends, actually. But a wonderful habit had been formed that still continues to this day.

Though I may share a struggle with a friend and ask for advice on occasion, this is usually the result of the Lord prompting that friend to call me after I've just poured out my heart...to Jesus!

It took several years for me to recognize this pattern in my life, and to realize that running to the Lord and crying out to Jesus had actually become my default.

I had begged God for a friend...

He sent me Jesus.

A man that has friends must show himself friendly: And there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.

Proverbs 18:24

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Six Weeks to Eternity

2015-04-24T07:30:00.001-04:00

Earlier this week, I told you how I was fortunate enough to have hand-picked my step-mom. Today, on the 5th anniversary of her death, I will share the rest of the story.

For years she had battled belly pain. Doctors believed it was spastic colon, but there were no definitive answers until January 2010, when we learned that Sue had carcinoid cancer and that her condition was terminal.

One night while writhing in pain on the sofa, she begged Daddy to let her die at home. He promised he would take care of her, in spite of the fact that he'd suffered two heart attacks and undergone stent surgery just a few months before and was still pretty weak himself.

She ended up in the hospital for several weeks and in the end it was decided that nothing more could be done for her, so she was sent to a nearby hospice center. We were told her health was so fragile that she most likely would not survive the 90 minute trip home. Sue was not happy about the arrangement.

But the hospice center proved to be quite cheery and upbeat, with a window and a bird feeder, a fire place and other homey amenities. From the moment we arrived, Sue seemed to relax a bit and forget her anger and just enjoy the unseasonably warm March weather. It was so nice outside that I was able to serve her and Daddy an al fresco breakfast one morning.

She was there a week and her health actually improved enough that it was suggested that she be moved to the hospice facility closer to home. Well, if she could make that drive, why couldn't we take her home? I questioned. The staff quickly trained me in several procedures, including how to drain the shunt in her abdomen where fluid would accumulate and had to be dealt with nightly.

The remainder of this amazing story is best summed up in the tribute I wrote for her that was read at her funeral six weeks later:

As we stood in the living room watching the ambulance pull into the driveway that Friday afternoon of March 12, there was a sense of anticipation in the air. Though we were certain this was the Lord’s will, none of us knew what to expect. We thought you were coming home to die, however you quickly showed us that you had come home to live.

Not content to pine away there in that hospital bed, you were determined from the very beginning that you were going to do as much for yourself as possible. By the end of the first week, you were getting out of bed with minimal help, going to the bathroom alone and you even bathed without any assistance. You seemed to gain strength with each passing day and we were all amazed by your steady progress. You firmly believed that you would be healed and were so determined that you were going back to work, you had many of us wondering about the possibility.

Larry built a ramp on the front porch and wide steps out the back door. Sandy planted flowers and several family members and friends went in together to buy you an early birthday present; a glider to enjoy on the back porch. You would sit for hours in your peaceful sanctuary, bird-watching and enjoying the spring-time sights and nature sounds and talking with God.

You began to cook simple meals and insisted on keeping up with the housework yourself. You swept and mopped those beautiful wood floors from your wheelchair at first, then later with the help of the walker.

Your family gathered at your house on Easter Sunday and later that evening your face seemed to radiate with joy as you told me about the day. Your eyes sparkled when I commented on how pretty you looked.

You decided it was time to put away your Santa collection and were so proud of that accomplishment. Out came the deer and elk figurines and the bears you had collected through the years.

As the Wisteria vine came into full bloom, you made the comment that it had never before looked so beautiful. You told me how you had planted the Wisteria even before the basement had been started, and fondly recalled memories of you and Dad working together in building your home and the fireplace you were so proud of.

Stephanie and Emily took turns spending nights with you and Emily will always remember those late-night talks after the lights had been turned out. Stephanie enjoyed sitting at the table with you, cutting and sewing the denim strips that would later be woven into rugs in your basement. You taught her a more efficient way of joining the strips together and you were clearly in your element. You've always enjoyed working with your hands, whether you were decorating a cake, or making a cross-stitch, or knitting a blanket or sweater to give as a gift. Many people have been blessed by your beautiful creations.

As the cancer raged on, your health continued to decline. You nervously stepped on the scales each morning and could no longer deny what was happening in your body. Attending Zach's funeral seemed to bring you a sense of peace.

It was only six weeks. Six short weeks at home. But during those weeks you lived life to the fullest and learned how to fully trust the One in Whom you had placed your faith. You viewed each day as a gift and taught the rest of us not to take our time here for granted.

In the end, your death was much like you had lived your life; simple and quiet, without any fanfare. The gentle smile on your face reassured us that you were finally at rest and that you had indeed received your healing.

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? ...Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

(1 Corinthians 15:55, 57)

In loving memory of Sue George

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The Hand-Picked Step-Mom

2015-04-22T10:57:00.001-04:00

You don't get to choose your family...the saying goes.

For the most part, that is true. But allow me to tell you the fantastic story of how my sister and I hand-picked our step-mom.

Our parents divorced many years ago, I believe I was five, though I don't have many memories of us living together as a family; Mom, Dad, my older brother, younger sister and I. Though Mom remarried when I was 7, Daddy remained alone.

As a little girl, I wanted to marry my dad. He was the most handsomest man in the world to me and he drove a really cool truck! In my little-girl mind, I didn't understand why I couldn't marry him; he wasn't married after all and in my estimation he needed someone to take care of him. As I matured, I never lost the desire to care for my dad.

Mom and Sue met at a factory where they both assembled television tuners and they quickly became friends. Sue was very quiet and Mom...not so much. But they got along very well. Sue was single and several years younger than Mom. She would spend weekends at our house and that's how we all got acquainted.

Sue was in our lives when my boyfriend was killed in a house fire (read If I Wrote A Letter to My 16 Year Old Self here) and realizing that I was in trouble emotionally, she would sometimes offer to take me with her to stay a night or two at her parent's house 3 hours away. She knew I needed a break. Years later, as we discussed that situation, I told her what a help and a blessing it was just knowing that she cared about me.

Through all those years, Daddy was still alone and it was during those rough teen years that a plan began formulating in my mind. Sue was single. Daddy was single. We loved her and she loved us. That's all that mattered; right? The fact that they didn't know each other was just a minor detail.

"Dad, is it okay if we bring a friend with us to the races on Friday night?" I asked, non-chalantly. We had brought friends before, so of course he didn't mind. We hadn't bothered to tell him though that this friend was more for him than us...

It can be a blast introducing two people who are destined to be together. It can also blow up in your face when both parties are introverts and neither is really interested in finding a life partner. More minor details...

I'm not sure how many times we coerced Sue into going to the races with us and Daddy that summer, but eventually they no longer needed our "help" in getting to know one another. It took a few years, but they finally married and she became our second mom.

Daddy and Sue in Mom's kitchen during their dating years

She and Mom remained friends and Mom was present for many of our annual gatherings on Christmas Eve at Dad and Sue's house.

Join me here on Friday, the 5th anniversary of the death of our beloved Mom Sue for the rest of the story (read the post Six Weeks to Eternity here).

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When He Takes the Baby Back

2015-04-20T07:00:00.000-04:00

We had done all the Lord had asked of us.

We had been obedient in surrendering to Him our fertility. Even against the advice of other well-meaning Christians and amidst the condemnation from family members, we had not only been willing, but eager, to have as many babies as the Lord wanted to send us.

Why then was He suddenly taking them back? It stung like a slap in the face and I felt betrayed...

By God.

Today I am stepping out of the Shoebox and speaking out on a topic that is near and dear to my heart--trusting the Lord through the pain of miscarriage in the post Surrendering Fertility to the Lord, Even When He Takes the Baby Back.

Won't you join me over at Made to Mother to read of my difficult journey through the dry, desert land of pregnancy loss?

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If I Wrote A Letter to My 16 Year Old Self

2015-04-13T07:00:00.000-04:00

I came across this idea several months ago, as I'd seen other bloggers participate. A letter of reflection, compassion and understanding, written in hindsight to my younger self. I liked the idea, but as I began my letter, I realized it would require some explanation.

Dear 16 year old Cheryl Ann,
His death was not your fault.

**~**~**~**~**

We met a couple weeks before my sixteenth birthday and the connection was instantaneous. I wanted to spend some time getting to know this boy behind the quick, gentle smile, with sandy blonde hair that fell into friendly brown eyes. Problem was, he lived in the same neighborhood as my grandparents; an hour away from my house.

With some quick thinking, I convinced Mom to let me spend a week with my grandparents that summer. As I had the fortune of being born on their wedding anniversary, as a gift to honor them, I offered to spend mornings deep cleaning their house. I've often wondered how the rest of my teen years would have played out differently if only Mom had said no.

He came to my grandparents' house for our combined family celebration. Later as we stood outside together, he sang a song to me that had just been released a few weeks before. "She's just sixteen years old, leave her alone; they say..."

I did in fact fulfill my obligation of deep cleaning each room of my grandparents' small house during the early morning hours. Then every day that week between 10-11 am, Greg would show up and the rest of our waking hours were spent together. A lot of "firsts" happened that week for me. My first boyfriend. First time holding hands. First kiss.

By the time I went home at week's end, we just knew this relationship was forever and had decided that someday we would be married. But Greg's first order of business was to get his driver's license so we could date. Haha.

Phone calls were rare, as long distance was expensive. But we did write letters to one another. And one time his parents dropped him off at our house for the afternoon while they visited with friends nearby. I took him to my favorite places there in our country neighborhood, and he carved our names into a tree next to the creek where I loved to hang out and write.

A long-distance relationship proved to be very difficult, especially for the insecure girl that I was. I spent a lot of time writing poems to him, half of which I never mailed.

One day I was sitting in class and suddenly felt someone watching me. I looked up and there he stood in the hallway of my high school, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and beaming at me like he belonged there. He and a friend had skipped school and hitch-hiked to see me. I never knew if he got caught or if there were any consequences.

One Saturday I spent the night with my brother and his wife and the next morning I woke with the oddest feeling that I just couldn't shake. I told Kathy that I really needed to talk to Greg. Problem was, she and my brother didn't have a telephone. I was so insistent that she walked with me to ask their neighbors if we could borrow their phone, as the part of town we were in was not long distance to call Greg. Most folks were not home and the one neighbor who answered the door didn't have a telephone. I prepared to return home, laying aside the ominous feeling.

We had just sat down to dinner when the phone rang. Mom answered and then I heard her say, "Oh no!" She began crying and I couldn't hear anything she was saying. Obviously something dreadful had happened to someone she cared about.

She hung up the phone and went into the next room to quietly speak with my step dad. When she returned she was looking straight at me with sad eyes, tears still streaming down her face. "I have bad news for you..." She said.

For no reason that I can think of to this day, I asked, "Is it Greg?" Mom slowly nodded and said, "He died."

A house fire caused by faulty wiring. He had been out all night coon hunting and had gone to bed late that Sunday morning just before his parents left the house. The wiring ignited in the walls and firefighters didn't realize anyone was in the house, as neighbors had seen the car leave earlier. One little girl kept insisting Greg was in the house and finally a team was sent into the blaze. Attempts were made to revive him, but he was pronounced dead of smoke inhalation at the hospital.

It seems funny to me how one pivotal moment in time changes everything. The rest of my teen years were spent battling depression and suicidal thoughts.

For various reasons I believed that Greg's death was my fault. For one thing, I'd had that ominous feeling that day and later thought I should have tried harder to find a phone. It never occurred to me to question whether a ringing telephone would have been enough to jar him out of his deep sleep. Another reason I blamed myself was because I seriously thought God was punishing me. My mom had gotten into Bible study earlier that fall and every time she had attempted to "preach" to me, I'd refused to listen to her. In my immature mind, somehow this had caused the death of my boyfriend.

Spending time with Greg's family did help me to at least accept his death. His parents took me with them to the 1982 World's Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee. At the end of our vacation, before they brought me home, we visited the cemetery and placed flowers on his grave. I had a close connection with his dad and it was very comforting to me when this gentle man pulled me close to himself as we wept together at his son's grave.

The last time I visited with Greg's parents was several years ago. My children surrounded me when I knocked on their door. His mom didn't recognize me, but before I could say anything, his dad's eyes lit up as he came toward me. "I know who you are! Cheryl!" He said and hugged me. I introduced them to each of my children and then he introduced me to their friend as "Greg's girlfriend." Twenty-two years and seven children later and he still saw me as ''Greg's girlfriend."

So now you know the back story. Here's the letter.

Dear 16 year old Cheryl Ann,
His death was not your fault. You are believing some serious lies, girl. You could not have prevented this tragedy, neither did God mean this experience as some kind of punishment. He does however intend this for your good and His glory and one day you will know a little more of what that means. For now, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Accept the grace that has been extended from those who love you; well-meaning friends and your teacher who has reached out to you, bless her heart. These are all chosen people the Lord has placed in your life at this time to help you walk through this dark and lonely season.

Photo taken one week after Greg's death I remember consciously trying to hide the pain.

I hate to tell you, though I suspect you already know this truth: You will never be the same as before, so don't expect to return to the girl who knew nothing of love and loss and overwhelming grief. Death has a way of leaving its mark. But I promise, it will get easier. With each passing day, week, month as you count off each Sunday as they come, the passing of time does help to heal the wounds. The scar will remain, but the pain will eventually fade. And someday you will be able to comfort others who have experienced loss.

I won't even try to tell you what's in store for you. Somehow I doubt you would ever believe me anyway. Just know that there is much to look forward to and you are going to be more blessed in your life than you could ever imagine.

Signed,

Your 50 year old self.

Have you ever written a letter to your younger self? What advice would you give? In hindsight, can you see how God used painful circumstances for your good and His glory?

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Our Vision Became Reality Today

2015-04-06T10:12:00.002-04:00

It began as a discussion in the living room early last fall.

"What is something we can do as a family to generate income so Daddy won't have to work so many hours away from home?" That's when the brainstorming began.

As we discussed our individual talents, skills, and interests, one thing bubbled to the surface:
Most of us enjoy writing, creating, photography, graphic design, reading, social media, connecting with people, and serving. A family blog could incorporate all of our hobbies and skills. The perfect fit!

Before we could get too set on this idea, I mentioned that Terry may not like the idea of us spending more time on the computer. He and I have had many discussion about blogging, social networking, and the dangers of losing time. Thus our balloon began to deflate. "Let's just pray about it for now," was all I said.

We continued to mull over the idea in our minds and discussed different ideas on occasion. Finally I asked each of the girls to write a short essay of why they believe a family blog would be a good thing, what their particular role would be, and how it could benefit our family over all. I tucked each girl's penned thoughts into my Bible to be shared with my husband during our trip to Florida.

While we were alone together one morning during our camping trip, I shared with him the plan the girls and I had envisioned, reading aloud each of our daughter's essays on the subject. I also made it very clear that we would be content with his decision. As we know that the Lord works through the head of the family and there is protection under his headship, we knew our confirmation would come through him. I was prepared to leave the idea there at that campfire in southern Florida if necessary. But Terry surprised me!

"Wow; that is a great idea!" Whoa! What?

The more we discussed it-the ins and outs of a family blog-the more enthusiastic he became. He even encouraged me to buy an eBook on the subject and read it during our trip. He read portions of the book as well, and gave me further insights. I was amazed and thrilled that the Lord had confirmed our plans and couldn't wait to tell the girls. They were just as surprised, amazed, and excited as I was.

Last Monday I revealed The Secret We've Been Keeping Today that secret was completely exposed as our vision became reality. We launched The Long Way to Go.

I hope you'll check it out!

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Talkin' 'Bout My Girl

2015-04-04T08:02:00.000-04:00

A text conversation between me and my oldest daughter on Friday April 3, 2015 at 11:50 pm--

Me: Ten minutes left to enjoy being 30!
Amanda: Nope. Not 31; just the 2nd anniversary of my 29th birthday ;)
Me: Sound just like your mom.
Amanda: The older I get, the more that happens...

Haha!

Who remembers the song?!

I love being her mom!
I love being one of her tippy-top friends (as she is one of mine).
I love watching her grow into the woman she's become.
I love that our relationship took a lot of effort (and prayer) and how rewarding it is for us both.
I love that we are vastly different and yet so very much alike, all at the same time.
I love that we were given the gift of experiencing pregnancy together and how we are raising children of the same age.

She's a wonderful daughter, a great wife (she and her husband Ryan have one the best marriages of any two people we know!), as well as a loving and fun mama to three little people, Her sisters count her as one of their best friends and her younger siblings adore her and her family.

On this happy occasion, I just wanted to come here today to give a birthday blessing shout-out to my dear daughter. So...

Happy 2nd anniversary of your 29th birthday Amanda!

I love you and am blessed to have you in my life.

P.S. You can read more about this wonderful daughter of mine in these posts:

When the Baby Stopped Breathing

She's Turning 30, but it's All About Me

The (Hilarious) Story of the Cake Topper

The Loving a Rebel Series:

The Making of a Rebel

Learning to Love a Rebel

Touching the Heart of a Rebel

Please Share Your Opinion

What Amanda Knows

The Return of a Rebel

Amanda's Tribute

From the Heart of a Rebel: What Mom Got Right

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The Night the Lights Went Out

2015-04-01T10:07:00.000-04:00

It was a typical Monday, late winter afternoon. We were finishing up the day's projects in preparation for Daddy's arrival home for the evening. Dinner hadn't yet been started, and the house, in it's usual afternoon disarray, was in desperate need of attention.

Without warning, the house went eerily silent. And dark. The power had gone out.

Considering it was February and the temperatures had plummeted, most folks who live in Indiana would immediately be concerned about staying warm. However, as our home is heated solely with wood, thankfully that is not an issue for us.

In fact, the first few minutes were quite delightful as the children gathered candles and flashlights and came together in the common cause of illuminating the house as the light outside faded rapidly. But as the newness wore off, so did the thrill.

Dinner was prepared as usual (on our gas cooking stove) and we ate taco salad by candlelight. That was different. Terry had Isaac retrieve a lantern we had bought for our recent camping trip in Florida.

The lights were off for four long hours. As boredom settled in, the natives became restless.

Dishes were washed and dried by lantern light while a couple of children discovered shadow making on the living room wall as the lantern illuminated into the dark living room. Terry and I, along with a few of the children who were not acting out hilarious shadow scenes, watched from the sofas, squealing with laughter as Corrie's shadow punched Isaac's, causing him to fall backward. Then Isaac's shadow became ginormous (that's a word in our house) by standing closer to the light source, and threatened to squash poor little Corrie (who stood further away from the light).

This creative entertainment lasted the rest of the evening.

There we were, gathered in the dark living room, watching shadows on the wall, contented to be together--our family. I noticed that I felt myself slowly letting go and relaxing from the inside out and my mind began to analyze that for a minute.

I didn't have anything to do. There was absolutely not one thing vying for my attention!

Without electricity, there was no internet. No status to post; comments to moderate; blog post to work on. Without the washer and dryer, the laundry was not beckoning to me. Without lights and power, Terry couldn't tinker with any of his ongoing projects in his workshop, so he was right there with us.

A random thought occurred to me: I wonder if this is what it was like during the Little House on the Prairie days-? The family coming together to spend some quality time enjoying each other's company with nothing else to distract them.

With our crazy-busy lives, we have found it necessary to schedule family time. I'm a "planner"; it's what I do! Movie nights. Game nights. Special dinners. Celebrations. It's important that we make time to connect (and honestly, it is getting increasingly harder to accomplish this as the older ones are busy as well). In my estimation, the only way it's going to happen is for us to be intentional.

But the night the lights went out, I realized that when I'm not busy trying to make the plan happen, I can let go of my expectations and simply be present and live in the moment. Sometimes the most memorable experiences can't be penciled in or planned ahead. They just happen. I don't want to miss out just because it doesn't look like my vision. Funny how I'm learning this applies to different areas of my life.

I can imagine the stories at family gatherings years from now. Of how when the lights would go out the kids would perform hilarious shadow shows on the wall and the whole family would be together, laughing and enjoying the fun.

And Mom was right there--fully present; smiling and living in the moment.

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The Secret We've Been Keeping

2015-03-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

Okay friends, I have a confession: I've been keeping a bit of a secret here at the Shoebox and am so excited to finally let the cat out of the bag. This past weekend I met several blog followers at the IAHE Homeschool Convention and could no longer keep the news a secret. Apparently my excitement is contagious, because these ladies seemed very happy to hear our news...

My five older daughters and I have embarked on a new venture and we'd like to bring you along! We decided to start a brand new family blog.

The Long Way to Go will focus on such topics as preparing for marriage, purity, courtship, and modest fashion, all written from the girls' perspective. We also plan to share guest posts of courtship stories. I will be writing about marriage, mothering, and mentoring ladies.

We also plan to share large family recipes and tutorials along with gardening and food preservation tips, DIY projects, and frugal decorating ideas. There will be something for everyone!

I would like to introduce you to the Long Way contributors:

Stephanie (26) is our techie girl. She's the one who helps make my visions reality; installing the necessary plug-ins and decoding html. The new blog is on Wordpress, y'all; a major stretch for my brain, so just know that Steph has had her hands full. She is mostly a "behind the scenes" kind of gal, but I'm hoping to coax her out of her comfort zone on occasion and have her write on topics that interest her such as current world events, standing strong in your Christian faith, and politics.

Emily (22) will be writing quite a bit on being a stay-at-home daughter, marriage preparation, heart purity, gardening and sharing step-by-step craft tutorials. I really enjoy Emily's fun style of writing, and I think you will too!

Haley (19) will also share her thoughts on purity, courtship, character growth, and marriage preparation. With a sincere heart to mentor and counsel young ladies, she plans to lead occasional online Bible studies and wisdom she gleans through the Bright Lights group she leads.

Mackenzie (17) is brand new to the blogging world and we are looking forward to her fresh perspective as she writes book reviews and discusses the covenant that she recently made with her Daddy (look for that post in the next few weeks).

Corrie (15) is our in-home fashion consultant, and from that perspective, she will be sharing weekly modest fashion posts. If you thought modesty meant frumpy, think again! This young lady is very creative and talented in interior design as well and will share some fun decorating tips that I'm sure you and your daughters will find useful.

So now you know the secret I've been busting to tell you for weeks!

The Long Way to Go will launch on Monday, April 6 and for the first few weeks we will be reviewing and giving away products that we use and love in an ongoing series of Our Favorite Things, so you won't want to miss that!

We hope to see you there! (As the blog is not live yet, I'll be giving another reminder on launch day).

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6 Perks of Homeschooling

2015-03-26T07:01:00.001-04:00

There are so many positive aspects of homeschooling, from various angles. In this post I have highlighted just a few.

1. Vacations in the Off Season.

Whether we are taking a field trip or a week-long vacation, homeschooling allows us to schedule our time away according to what works best for our family, rather than being locked into a predetermined time slot set by someone else. We generally visit places like museums, the zoo, library, and sometimes parks, during times when other children are in school. We've also been known to camp during the off-season, which gives us more privacy and time alone as a family to reconnect.

2. Monitoring Friendships.

Terry and I unashamedly monitor the close friendships of our children outside our home. Proverbs 13:20 says "He that walketh with wise men shall be wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed." Pretty strong words of caution! Homeschooling allows us to really get acquainted with the friends of our children, as they are generally children of our (mine and Terry's) friends! And we are able to determine how much (or how little) time our children spend with their friends. The goal is that friendship should be mutually edifying and God-honoring.

3. Emotional Freedom

Our children have never experienced bullying or peer pressure. They don't worry about being laughed at if they don't know the answer. They don't compare themselves to other kids their age (which is not wise--2 Corinthians 10:12), nor do they ever worry about "fitting in"...because they always have! They are free to be all that God intends for them to be (within the boundaries of discretion and self-control) without fear of what others might think about them. And because they are secure in their identity, they have no problem getting along well with others. As most homeschooled children we've known, our children are just as comfortable in a conversation with adults as they are children their own age. They make friends easily (some more readily than others). I rarely get asked the "socialization question". But when I do, my standard answer is, "Oh, you haven't met Destiny or Samuel yet, have you?" Haha!

4. Personalized Education.

Each of our children have the unique opportunity to learn according to their interests and aptitude. Yes we want them all to be able to read, write, and solve math equations proficiently, but beyond that, some enjoy creative writing, whereas others really don't enjoy writing at all and prefer to work with their hands, instead. Some are more gifted in music and prefer to spend time practicing and honing their skill. We can also tailor how we teach academics to their individual style of learning, as well as their interests. Which I think is pretty cool! Memorizing and spouting off facts and data has never been part of our plan; rather we want to instill in our children a love of learning. Our long-term goal is to grow life-long learners!

Another aspect is that we are able to teach our children the things that are important to us: Christian principles, strong morals, family values, as well as life skills that so many children are lacking in our modern society, such as homemaking skills, gardening, and home and car maintenance and repairs.

5. Family Togetherness.

As crazy as some of our days are, I often console myself with this thought: Our seven school-age children could be attending 3 different public schools and be involved in a variety of after-school programs. That puts everything into proper perspective in my mind.

Our younger children have their moments of squabbling, of course, but for the most part, they are wonderful playmates and friends and our older girls are truly bffs.

I spend the majority of my life with these children the Lord has blessed me with and you know what? I find they are pretty enjoyable people to be around! I am growing my own best friends!

6. Sense of Community and Support.

We were not a part of any homeschool groups until just a few years ago, and didn't really know what we were missing. We have met some really good friends through our local group and have made some wonderful memories.

Another avenue of support that we really enjoy is the annual Indiana Association of Home Educators (IAHE) homeschool convention, which happens to be this very weekend! (March 27-28, 2015).

For the past 5 years our family has been honored to represent one of our favorite companies--Doorposts--at the annual convention. If you happen to be attending the IAHE convention at the Indiana State Fairgrounds this weekend, please stop by our booth and say hi! It is always a pleasure to meet Shoebox readers. And even more fun to get better acquainted with those whom we share common interests (such as homeschooling).

These are just a few of the wonderful perks of teaching our children at home. What would you add to the list?

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House to Home Link upGrace at HomeMommy MomentsLiving Proverbs 31Mom 2 MomMonday's MusingsMama MomentsMaking Your Home Sing MondayModest Mom MondayTitus 2 TuesdayTitus 2sDayTeach Me TuesdayUnite!Tell It To Me TuesdayA Wise Woman Link UpRaising HomemakersA Little R and RWednesday's WisdomCoffee and Conversation

From the Heart of a Rebel: What Mom Got Right

2015-03-23T14:44:00.001-04:00

This post is written by my eldest daughter Amanda. If you've been around the Shoebox for very long, you might remember the highly-controversial Rebel posts that I wrote about in regards to the difficult relationship Amanda and I muddled through during her teen years.

At my surprise 50th birthday party last summer, Amanda spoke some very edifying words about me. I've asked her to share here some of what she said for the purpose of encouraging those moms who are currently walking that path, struggling in a relationship with a rebellious child. My hope is to inspire you to stay the course; to encourage you to keep praying for your child, never giving up hope, and to continually beg the Lord to teach you how to unconditionally love your son or daughter the way they need to be loved.

Reading these words from my daughter makes it all worth it and blesses me more than words can say...

Being a mom is not an easy job. It is I believe, the toughest and most rewarding job I will ever have. It wasn't until I had my own children that I could truly appreciate my own mom, and everything that she did for me growing up.

In the Loving a Rebel series Mom posted here a few years ago, she shared several things that she felt she had done wrong during my childhood into my adolescence. I want to point out some of the things I believe she did right.

Coming from a split home can be a really hard thing for a child. Add to the mix two new step-parents with multiple half-siblings to follow and its easy for a child to feel replaced, or as if they were a mistake. I have seen time and time again where parents split up, and then the children that resulted from that union are stuck in the middle of a terrible war. I cannot recall one single time that I ever saw my mom and dad argue after they separated, nor do I remember a time that either parent had a bad thing to say about the other. I was never told to ask my dad for child support, or relay hateful messages of any kind, and my entire family, both dad's side, mom's, and even my step-parents all got along. It was not unusual for mom and all my brothers and sisters to spend the day at my paternal grandparents’ house. I never had to endure feeling unwanted, or that I was a mistake; the unfortunate result of a relationship that was never supposed to happen. Instead, I felt like I got to go on my own mini-vacation every other weekend, and through the summer to spend time with my dad, and especially my grandparents. I can’t imagine how hard it would be as a child to be stuck in the middle of divorced parents that can’t get along, who use their children as ammo. It’s not fair, and I am so grateful that as a child, I never had to experience this.

My mom is truly one of my best friends. When I was younger, I pushed everyone away; I did things that I was told not to do, just to get a reaction. I know that I broke my mom’s heart on numerous occasions, but no matter what I did, or said, she was always still there for me, even when all I thought I wanted was for her to just go away, because I "knew everything" and didn't need to be told how to live my life (oh the teenage years….). Flash forward a few years, and my mom is the person I always call when I am upset, when I have concerns, when I feel like life as a homeschooling stay at home mom is just too much and I just want to throw my kids in public school and go back to work. She is there for me, encouraging me and reminding me that I am just having a bad day, not a bad life. I do not claim to be a Christian, and in fact, my mom and I have very different beliefs on a lot of matters. The difference between my mom and other “Christian” people that I have encountered before, is that I do not ever feel judged by her. I am free to be myself, and I don’t ever feel like I am not good enough or pure enough or whatever. My relationships with my siblings from my mom and step-father are much the same way. They aren't sheltered from me or anything in my life, and they too accept me just the way I am. That has not always been the case with other so called Christians I have encountered, so I am thankful that my mom and I can maintain the awesome relationship that we have, despite the difference in our beliefs.

My mom raises the bar when it comes to being a role model as a mother, and as a wife. My Husband and I had a pretty rocky start to our marriage (to put it lightly). After four years and two kids I was exhausted, I was tired of fighting, and I wanted out. Now, I can only imagine as a mom, when your daughter calls you crying, spouting all the ways her husband has done her wrong, and how miserable she is, your first instinct is to tell your daughter to run, to get away from her husband, take the kids, and go find happiness elsewhere. My mom however, never did any of those things, and instead, always encouraged me to step back and see how I could make the situation different. She encouraged me to stay and fight for my marriage, and even when I didn't want to hear it, she was right.

I could never say that she didn't understand what it was like to go through a struggling marriage, I mean, she pretty much wrote the book on struggling marriages and how to make it work.Even when things were at their worst, she still encouraged me to stay in the battle, even though I know some part of her probably wanted to smack my husband upside the head, she continued to encourage me to stay level headed, and approach our conflicts reasonably, and not let my emotions take over. If not for her example, and seeing how hard she and my step-father had fought to save their marriage, and if at any point my mom had said “you are right, there’s no hope, just give up.” I would have left my marriage. My kids would have only seen the father that they adore every other weekend, and my third child would not even be here.

I am so very grateful that my mom provided me with the much needed encouragement that kept me fighting for my marriage, because although the first four years were nothing short of awful, the past five years have been amazing! My husband and I have a relationship that I always longed for, we have learned to operate as a team, and I cannot imagine my life without him.

I would like to point out though, that she never encouraged me to be a "doormat", which anyone who knows me knows how that would never happen anyway. I have a bit of, let’s say, a willful spirit, and my mom knows that better than anyone. Of course our marital problems were not one sided; they were certainly not all my husband’s fault, and I am thankful that my mom was able to help me see all sides of things, rather than just taking my side and encouraging me to “fight for my rights”.

I can only hope as I mother my own children that I can be half the mother that my mom has been to me.

Post written by my daughter, Amanda Mosier

Photo Credit: Ann Schertz Photography
Amanda, Ryan, and their three beautiful children (my grandbabies!)

Loving a Rebel Series:

-The Making of a Rebel

-Learning to Love a Rebel

-Touching the Heart of a Rebel

-Please Share Your Opinion

-What Amanda Knows

-The Return of a Rebel

-Amanda's Tribute

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12 Ways 12 People Live on 1 Income

2015-03-18T09:48:00.000-04:00

Many years ago, we were a two income family.

Terry and I both were restaurant managers, working many hours each, driving new, expensive vehicles (oh how I enjoyed my cute little sports car-- a silver-green-pearl Nissan Pulsar NX with t-tops...), and bringing home a good amount of money between the two of us.

But then we kept having babies and somebody needed to actually, you know; raise them. Since I was the mom, the female, the nurturer, the decision was really a no-brainer. I became a full-time mama and adjustments in our lifestyle obviously needed to be made. Goodbye little sports car.

Over time, we learned how to make it all work, including living within our means. As the babies kept coming (and coming), so our experience and wisdom increased.

The following are nuggets of wisdom we've learned along the way that have helped us to survive on a single income in a 2-income world.

Photo credit

1. Homemade laundry detergent

We've been making our own homemade laundry detergent, using 3 affordable ingredients for nearly a decade and easily adapted the recipe for our HE washer.

2. Baking Soda Shampoo

Our family has used homemade baking soda shampoo with vinegar rinse since 2008. I've recently read articles of how this method can damage hair and we did try other recipes, but quickly came back to this one. It works well for us. Maybe not for everyone-there is one family member who buys her own shampoo-but the rest of us are perfectly content with our "no-poo" method.

3. Meals from scratch

We gave up convenience foods years ago for several reasons and I had to learn how to prepare everything from scratch. Most convenience foods are full of added chemicals and preservatives, thus making them even more expensive in the long run.

4. Planned, infrequent trips into town

We live in the country, around 35-40 minutes away from the nearest grocery store, and this translates into about $15 round trip in our 15 passenger van. Just a few short years ago when the girls were taking music lessons, whatever day lessons were scheduled for became our grocery/errand/library day. Some days we were in town for 6-8 hours, as lessons were in the afternoon with music theory class in the evening. We would pack a lunch for such occasions to enjoy at the park, and make the most of our time. These days, I usually shop on Friday afternoon, and plan all other errands around this shopping trip. I even plan the route ahead of time so there is no back-tracking and wasting gas.

5. No cable or satellite.

We did away with public television years ago and only watch videos on occasion. By the way, televisions are amazingly cheap since the mandatory upgrade a few years ago. We purchased our last TV for 99 cents at a thrift store!

6. Buy used.

Most things we purchase are used, from vehicles to furniture, to clothing. Usually when we plan a "fun shopping day", it involves perusing local thrift stores and "G.W. Boutique" (our code name for Goodwill). There is also a large, local used children's clothing sale every March, for which I usually allot around $200, where we buy not only clothing, but shoes, books, comforters, and accessories.

For homeschool curriculum, I generally check out my favorite site for used books and supplies-- Homeschool Classifieds--before spending full price.

We look for used appliances, furniture, and other household items on Craig's List. That is where we found our 15 passenger van a few years ago and more recently, our beautiful camper trailer.

Just this week, my new blogging friend Jennifer from The Deliberate Mom published a post on The Best Second-Hand Shopping Tips for Your Family. Check it out!

7. We don't drink milk.

We haven't bought milk in nearly two decades! We eliminated it from our diets years ago after reading about the correlation between milk and ear infections, from which Emily suffered greatly (the infections mysteriously cleared up, btw). Milk is mucus-forming and can cause congestion. We have at times had milk goats and did enjoy milk then, but the fact is the stuff you buy in cartons in the grocery has little in common with fresh, raw milk. And in case you are wondering about the state of my children's bones, several years ago a dentist commented on the strength of all of their teeth, asking what we attributed that to. I hesitated, knowing she wouldn't appreciate my answer, but she was amazed when I told her we don't drink milk and avoid fluoride in all forms. Our answer to the question "Got milk?" Nope.

8. Home remedies.

Soon after we handed over our family planning to the Lord and came to the realization that we could end up with a large family, I realized that I needed to find a way to keep the children as healthy as possible and be able to treat their ailments myself to avoid unnecessary medical expenses. I began studying herbs, nutritional healing, and essential oils.

By the way, if I were to be going to a remote island and could take only one "cure" I would choose Clove Essential Oil. It works on a toothache (from which I've had some recent experience), is anti-viral, anti-bacterial, and anti-fungal. To boost the immune system, I add a drop to a bit of coconut oil and apply it over the thyroid (the hollow in your neck) and a bit on the lymph glands in the neck (at the jawline) and behind the ears.

9. Heating and Air.

We've had a wood stove for many years and the Lord has always blessed us with wood, so we've never had to buy it. Besides the wood available on our own 15 acres, often someone will have a tree fall and contact our family to see if we want the wood, which usually involves cutting up and loading/splitting/stacking. A little work = free heat!

Our little farmhouse is not equipped with central air (or even duct work! haha). We do have a window unit for the upstairs (which gets unbearably hot in the summer) and another unit for the kitchen for those days when it's simply too hot to cook or when we are canning, which we use sparingly. For the most part, we just keep the windows open, run fans, and enjoy the fresh air.

10. Meal Stretching.

We view meat more as a flavorful additive rather than a main dish and so one whole chicken = two whole meals for our family! Typical main dishes for us are Chicken 'n Rice Soup and Pepperoni Rice Lasagna. We also add rice to ground turkey (purchased from Aldi) to stretch taco meat (we have taco salad--a family favorite--at least once a week). An occasional treat in the summer is hamburgers on the grill, in which I will make the meat go further by adding finely chopped fresh mushrooms (which also helps add moisture), finely diced onion, and a bit of ground oatmeal.

11. Gardening and Food Preservation.

We've had a large garden for the past 13 years in which we grow lots of tomatoes (usually around 100 plants), peppers, green beans, and cabbage, all of which can be canned or frozen. We also grow lettuce and kale, which means that during the summer, we rarely have to buy either. It is so rewarding to walk outside and pick the evening salad straight out of our backyard!

We also have an herb garden from which we dry those herbs to use throughout the year as well.

12. Depend on the Lord.

This category should actually be listed first, but I saved the best for last! The very first verse I memorized in 1997 after becoming a Christian was Philippians 4:19:

But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

I cannot tell you all the ways the Lord has met our needs through the years. From gift cards and money arriving in the mail, sent by anonymous donors in just the exact moment of need, to food provided through working at a food bank as well as from other people's surplus, Once our washer had suddenly quit and before I even had a second to worry about it (or even make the issue known to anyone else), I received a phone call that very day from my cousin, asking if we could use a washing machine, as he and his wife had an extra one and we had come to mind. Through the years we've been blessed with appliances, furniture, clothing, food, and even two different vehicles! I don't know about you, but as the Lord meets each and every need, I am drawn deeper into a love relationship with the One Who cares for us. I am thankful for those difficulties that reveal the thoughtfulness and tender care of my heavenly Father and I wouldn't trade those moments for all the money in the world!

As a side note here, there is an additional category that can be added to the list, that is definitely worth mentioning, because it's a significant contribution to our being able to save money. Our children each look for ways to earn money from the time they are early teens. Isaac gets paid to do yard work and other manual labor, Corrie has been cleaning houses for a couple of years, and each of the older girls teach music and sing together, as well as perform odd jobs to earn spending money. We haven't had to buy clothes for the older ones or spend money for their extra expenses in several years.

I hope you find these twelve frugal ways helpful. As we are always open to tips of how we can save money, what would you add to our list?

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Winning the War Over Worry

2015-03-16T07:00:00.000-04:00

This is part 3 of 3 in the series Fear Not! in which I hope to have uncovered 3 things: how fear negatively effects us and our relationships, how to dismantle our fears, and in this post, I share something constructive to do with our fear and worries.

The pressure in my chest proved me wrong.

I had reassured myself before going to sleep the night before that things would look brighter in the morning, which is usually the case when I'm dealing with anxiety. When I woke though, instead of feeling rested and ready to face the day, my burdens seemed to have multiplied overnight. My thoughts were muddled as all the worries came rushing back. With a vengeance.

Only one word registered clearly in my mind: Overwhelmed.

Having been in this dreadful place many times before, thankfully I know exactly where my help is found.

Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee,
when my heart is overwhelmed:
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:1-2

I've discovered the most effective solution for worry is found in Philippians 4:6-7.

I stumbled upon this key quite by accident several years ago. I noticed that during my prayer time, thoughts and worries would invade while I was trying to pray for the needs of others. In an attempt to overcome this, I began keeping a notebook and pen handy during prayer and when a worry would threaten to intrude, I wrote it down. Then after praying for family and loved ones, I would come back to this list and pray about each worry.

Within a few short weeks of consistently following this method, I realized that not only was this helping my intercessory prayer time be more productive, but those issues that had been so worrisome a few days before were no longer a bother. By bringing each worry to the Lord--making my requests known to God--I was in fact experiencing the peace of God that passes human understanding.

Here's how praying Philippians 4:6-7 works for me:

I ask the Lord to bring to my mind every burden, every worry, every concern that weighs on my heart or causes me grief.
I record these worries in my Philippians 4:6-7 journal.
Going back over my list, I find something in each burden to thank the Lord for ("supplication with thanksgiving").
As in dealing with fear, I prayerfully separate my responsibility from His.
Using my daily planner, I often record a step I can take today in the direction of resolving the issue.
And everything that I cannot fix...I purpose to leave there at the foot of the cross.

Do the burdens come back? Sometimes. When they do, I simply bow my head and pray again, "Lord, I've given this worry to You and I know You are going to work it out for my good and Your glory. I'm choosing to trust You in this matter, Father. Thank You for taking this from me." Sometimes the peace that passes understanding is found not only in bringing the burdens before the Lord, but in leaving them there as well.

My Philippians 4:6-7 journal also serves another purpose: As I peruse through the previous pages, I check off those burdens that are no longer an issue for me. Sometimes I will make a note of how the Lord answered the prayer. Most times though, I simply put a large check mark in front of the former worry. Being reminded that the Lord did indeed bring me through each problem and has fulfilled that promise of Philippians 4:7 grows me in my faith and strengthens my trust in Him. He is faithful and trustworthy!

So the next time your worries threaten to overwhelm you, remember the admonition of Philippians 4:6 and the promise of Philippians 4:7.

Fear Not! Series:

Fear Makes You Ugly!
5 Steps to Living Fear-Free
Win the War over Worry

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This post is linked with:

Modest Mom MondayMommy Moments MondayMaking Your Home Sing MondayLiving Proverbs 31Monday's MusingsMama Moments MondayTitus 2 TuesdaysTitus 2sDayTeach Me TuesdayTell It To Me TuesdayUNITE!Raising HomemakersA Wise Woman Link UpSo Much at HomeA Little R and RCoffee and ConversationThe {Not Just} Homemaking Link UpWorks for Me WednesdayWednesday's WisdomShine!From House to HomeThursday TheologyGrace at HomeA Look at the BookGrace and TruthThat Friday Blog HopFellowship FridaySaturday Soiree

5 Steps to Living Fear-Free

2015-03-10T11:02:00.001-04:00

This is part 2 of 3 in the series Fear Not! in which I hope to uncover 3 things: how fear negatively effects us and our relationships, how to dismantle our fears, and something constructive to do with our fear and worries.

I was six years old when Nasa planned to send astronauts with a car to drive on the moon. There was much excitement on television regarding the endeavor and I recall it clearly mostly because I remember my response: I hid under the bed. In my little girl estimation, there was no way that bright white ball in the sky could hold that great big lunar car and I was sure the moon would come crashing down on our trailer and kill me and my family.

As I shared in the first post in this Fear Not! series (Fear Makes You Ugly), I have battled fear, and its oppressive influence most of my life. About ten years ago the Lord really began dealing with me on this stronghold and what He showed me forever changed my life and set me free from crippling fear. I want to share this freedom with you.

1. Think on Truth

God tells us in His Word what we are to think on. I made a conscious decision that every time I would begin to feel fearful, I would run my thoughts through the sieve of Philippians 4:8:

Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise; think on these things.

and soon discovered that many of my fears were not based in reality. Take for instance, the story I shared from Fear Makes You Ugly in which my husband was over an hour late coming home from work and my fears had led me to planning his funeral! TRUTH: He was late. But that was all the information I had to go on. Which leads to the next point.

2. Cast Down Imaginations

I began to see that the majority of the things I feared never materialized. In this scenario of my husband being late, as I purposed to focus on truth, a picture would occasionally flash through my mind of a car accident or of him lying in a ditch. I would close my eyes and picture my hand grabbing hold of the image and casting it out of my mind and throwing it down on the ground as I quoted 2 Corinthians 10:5.

3. Live in the present

The root of the fear I experienced when Terry was late was that I was afraid that he would die and I would be left to raise our large family on my own. Realistically, there is no guarantee that either of us will live to see five year old Michael Ray graduate and marry, however the reality is that the future is not here yet, but my husband still is. I began to learn to focus on what is true for today. Fear and worry over tomorrow were stealing my joy in the present.

In Matthew 6:34 Jesus tells us not to worry about tomorrow because there is enough to think about for today. I began to understand that God's grace is sufficient only for this day. One reason we may fear tomorrow is because God's grace isn't there yet. But you can rest in the fact that when you get there, His grace will meet you in the moment you need it!

4. Take Back Ground

Fear of the dark was a major terror that had plagued me since childhood. Fostered by horror movies and other demonic practices I should never have been subjected to, as an adult I could not walk to the bathroom at night without turning on every light in my path--in my own home! My fear was so great that when there was no bedside lamp, I would stand staring at the bed with my hand on the wall switch, planning every step and hoping to block out the demons I was sure would grab me once the light was off. This may sound funny to some, but the terror for me was very real.

The Lord began showing me that watching those horror movies had actually given "ground" to Satan over my mind and because I had given him this ground, as the owner of this property, he had the right to visit it any time he chose to. He would use those frequent "visits" to conjure up frightening images to torture me, especially in the darkness. I knew I was powerless to fight this spiritual battle, so I did the only thing I knew to do: I asked Jesus to fight the battle for me. First, I confessed to Him my sin of allowing the evil into my mind and then asked God to take back the ground that was given to Satan through this activity and to heal my mind. The chain was broken and I have never had to turn on a light out of fear since!

5. Separate My Responsibilities from His

Sometimes fear arises when there seems to be too much to deal with. In Battling Fear, I shared how overwhelmed I was over mounting issues and how as I was able to separate my responsibilities from His, this gave me something concrete to work on (my responsibilities) and also revealed what I needed to pray about and to let go of (His responsibilities).

My fear of losing a child to death was won as I placed each child on the altar and gave them back to God. My responsibility is to raise them in the nurture and admonition of the Lord and entrust them to His care; His responsibility is to accomplish His will in each of their lives.

One last thing. I used to be terrified of death. I want to tell you that if you are not a believer of Jesus Christ and you have not put your faith and trust in Him, you do have something to fear! Hell is real and we all will face death one day and be ushered into eternal life. Each of us must give account to God for our time here on earth and we will spend eternity either in heaven with our Lord and Savior, or in hell, permanently separated from God.

If you believe that only "bad" people go to hell, and all "good" people get into heaven, you need to know the standard by which God judges.

Answer these questions:

Have you ever lied? (That's bearing false witness)
Have you ever taken anything that doesn't belong to you? (That's stealing)
Have you ever lusted (Jesus likens that to adultery--Matthew 5:28)

These are just 3 of the 10 commandments. Based on your answers, where will you spend eternity?

If you didn't fair so well, don't despair! God gave us the law to show us our sin and reveal our need of a Savior. You must first understand that you're sick before you will look for a cure.

For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23
For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 6:23
But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

What must I do to be saved from my sins and receive eternal life?

Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved. Acts 16:31
For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. Romans 10:13

His responsibility:

Draw sinners to Himself, bring us to repentance, save us through the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ, and adopt us as His children.

Our responsibility:

Believe in Jesus Christ, repent of our sin, and receive His free gift of salvation.

Living Fear-Free

Though it's been nearly a decade since the Lord freed me from the bondage of fear, I am still faced with many opportunities to put what I've learned into practice. I continue to run my thoughts through the sieve of Philippians 4:8, imaginations must still be cast down, and I often remind myself to accept the grace I am given for this day and not to worry about tomorrow. There are times I find myself overwhelmed with the busy-ness of life and must separate my responsibilities from His. But through it all, I am very grateful that the Lord has equipped me with the tools to continue to walk in this freedom!

In my next post, I'll share an effective way to win the war over worry.

Fear Not! Series:

Fear Makes You Ugly!
5 Steps to Living Fear-Free
Win the War over Worry

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This post is linked with:
Titus 2 TuesdayTeach Me TuesdayTitus 2sDayUNITE!Tell it to Me TuesdayA Wise Woman Link UpRaising HomemakersThe {Not Just} Homemaking Link UpSo Much at HomeA Little R and RWednesday's WisdomWorks for Me WednesdayGrace at HomeFrom House to HomeShine!Hearts for HomeThursday Theology Blog HopGrace and TruthThat Friday Blog HopA Look at the BookSaturday SoireeMommy Moments MondayModest Mom MondayMaking Your Home Sing MondayLiving Proverbs 31Monday's MusingsMama Moments Monday

Battling Fear

2015-03-06T13:02:00.000-05:00

This is not the article I meant to publish here today. In fact, this is a re-post, originally published here at the Shoebox four years ago-- next week! I find this a bit ironic, considering the reason I was unable to write the next post in the Do Not Fear! series is due to a horribly painful, throbbing toothache that hit suddenly this week that has gotten progressively worse with each passing day. By the time I decided it was not going away, in spite of my best efforts in using every toothache remedy known to man, the dentist was unable to work me in and so I must wait till TUESDAY (that is 4 whole days away!) to see the dentist. He did order antibiotics and pain medication and so I get relief for one hour out of every four. I chose to spend this hour posting here. By the way, my current cracked molar is not the same aching tooth from this post (again, originally published 4 years ago). Prayers are appreciated and I hope to get back to this series next week. In the meantime, I hope you find this post helpful.

Photo credit

I wake abruptly, not sure why, and glance at the illuminated numbers of the alarm clock. 2:13 AM. Surrounded by the gentle, rhythmic sounds of slumber of my husband and baby boy, I turn over and close my eyes. Sleep does not come, as unwelcome thoughts begin to invade. Peaceful dreams have been replaced by cares of this world. Worry of things left undone. Dread of things to come.

My mouth aches, as I have yet to make a dental appointment. I told Terry, “As soon as my pain exceeds my fear of the pain I know I’m going to experience in the dentist’s chair, I’ll make that appointment.” Suddenly, I find myself there.

The washer is broken and the house is full of dirty clothes. The repair service called yesterday to let us know it would not be fixed as scheduled, as a necessary part is on back order. Do they realize that this is more than an inconvenience? For a family our size, two weeks without a washing machine is a disaster!

Michael Ray stirs and I make sure he is warm enough. This child who has been “big for his age” from birth now seems thin to me. He has turned out to be a picky eater and his refusal to eat so many foods has caused growing concern that begins to transform into fear there in the darkness.

The clock now reads 2:41. The alarm will sound in two hours, banishing my husband from our warm bed and thrusting him into another work day. I am reminded of our conversation yesterday. Gas prices continue to climb and we are feeling it, as Terry drives nearly an hour one way to work at a job that has just eliminated all the overtime that we count on to get by. We must cut out all unnecessary expenses. Do we have any unnecessary expenses?

Fear begins to rise up within me and threatens to grip my heart with its icy fingers. Lord…? There in the darkness I chide myself for waiting so long.

A verse comes to mind, rescuing me from my own thoughts.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7). I have studied this verse. I know where fear originates and who is behind it. I quietly slip out of bed to go meet with the Lord. He will lead me into battle this night.

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds though Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

I prayerfully separate my responsibilities from His.

I cannot fix the washer…

But I can take a couple loads of clothes to my Dad's.

I cannot force my son to eat…

But I will make sure all the children know not to allow the baby any junk food snack that quells his desire for healthy foods.

I have no control over the gas prices…

But I will suggest a family meeting to brainstorm ideas of ways to save money. We can begin planning our garden.

And finally…

I think I have the courage to face my fears head on and make that dental appointment.

I experience that "peace that passes understanding" and I am resting. Resting in the Lord.

Fear Makes You Ugly!

2015-03-02T06:05:00.000-05:00

This is the first of 3 posts in the series Fear Not! in which I hope to uncover 3 things: how fear negatively effects us and our relationships, how to dismantle our fears, and something constructive to do with our fear and worries.

He was late getting home. Thirty minutes dragged to 45, then into an hour. All that time, I continued pacing the floor. What began as a knot in my stomach had now turned into full-blown turmoil. Where was he?! In my mind various scenarios played out; none were pleasant. I pictured a car accident with him laying alongside the road, face down in a puddle of blood. With a hand on my pregnant belly while gazing at the faces of each of our seven children, I silently wondered--what will become of us?

I stared out the window, down the road, half expecting to see a police car. Do they still do that? Deliver bad news to unsuspecting family members when their loved one has been killed in an accident?

I would need to call Pastor of course. He would have to go with me to identify the body; there was no way I could do that on my own. I'm sure Pastor and his wife would help me make all the necessary arrangements as well...

Suddenly Terry's car was pulling into the driveway. At first I was relieved beyond words that he was safe. Praise God! I wasn't a widow with all these children to raise alone. I didn't have to worry about how we were going to get through the night. Or the next ten years.

But then he came strolling into the house, with a brief explanation of how he'd run into a friend at Walmart, like it was not a big deal that he was nearly 90 minutes late. Oblivious to the horror I had been through in planning his funeral and the rest of our lives without him, he smiled, kissed me lightly and asked what was for dinner.

I was furious!

That story seems hilarious to me now; but ten years ago, that was not the case!

I have battled fear for as long as I can remember. Fear of being embarrassed and humiliated. Fear of nuclear war. Fear of loss; of losing my parents (when I was a little girl) and loved ones to being afraid of losing a child. Fear of darkness. Fear of the unknown. Fear of pain. Of being alone. Fear of strangers. Of bad things happening to good people. Fear of death.

I once heard this acronym for fear that has stuck with me:

Not all of my fears have been irrational though.

For instance, I spent much of my 13th summer behind locked doors, confined to the house, as some creepy man had somehow gotten my name and our phone number and began making regular disturbing phone calls to our house, describing in detail all the things he would do once he got me alone. They might have caught the deranged man, but soon after our line was tapped, Mom had taken the phone from me upon hearing his evil threats and blew up at the guy, telling him they were going to catch him. He hung up before the call could be traced and he never called back. The phone calls stopped, but the residual fear was embedded deeply in my young mind.

Then there was the child molester who lived next door for a season...

There are those instances when fear is a normal response to our situation. I am not saying all fear is bad. A little bit of healthy fear can perhaps help us make better choices. For instance, fear of debilitating disease may prompt a person to quit smoking or to eat healthier. Fear of consequences can also motivate our children in the right direction. "If you play in the busy street, you could get run over by a car."

The unhealthy fear I'm addressing is the kind that does more harm than good. The fear that disquiets the soul and paralyzes us. As being fearful causes us to be controlling and tense, it makes us ugly. And just as perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18), fear wields the power to cast out love, as demonstrated each time we lash out with words when terror strikes our hearts.This is exactly the kind of fear that God warns against repeatedly in His Word.

Boiled down to its root cause, fear reveals a lack of trust in God.

In my next post, I'll be sharing how the Lord freed me from a lifetime of crippling fear.

Do you battle fear?

Fear Not! Series:

Fear Makes You Ugly!
5 Steps to Living Fear-Free
Win the War over Worry

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This post is linked with:

Modest Mom MondayMama Moments MondayMommy MomentsMonday's MusingsMaking Your Home Sing MondayLiving Proverbs 31Mom 2 MomTitus 2sDayTeach Me TuesdayTitus 2 TuesdayTell it to Me TuesdayUnite!A Wise Woman Link UpThe {Not Just} Homemaking Link upA Little R and RCoffee and Conversation Link upWorks for me WednesdayRaising HomemakersShine!From House to HomeHearts for HomeThat Friday Blog HopGrace and TruthA Group Look Fellowship FridaysSaturday Soiree

Surviving Winter? (Revisiting Contentment)

2015-02-26T09:11:00.000-05:00

The biting wind. Frozen water pipes. Gray skies. Ice and snow. Dry, chapped hands and lips. Extreme cold weather alerts.

Winter has settled in. Ugh.

I've tried to enjoy this season.

I honestly have.

I've even made a list of things to appreciate about winter in the Midwest.

Mom's List of Things to Appreciate About Winter:

No bugs
I love a blazing fire (we heat with wood)
People tend to wear more clothes
No mowing (we mow a lot of grass with push-mowers)
It brings us together as a family

Number 5 though...

Can I be honest here? (Silly question!) That family togetherness thing...it starts wearing a leeetle thin around the end of February.

Now don't get me wrong, I adore my children. I love homeschooling and being a stay at home wife and mom! I am truly grateful that my hard working man allows me to be at home with our brood, and that I don't have to scrape ice off the windshield in -20 degree weather and drive on snowy roads away from my children. Been there; done that (and please know that I don't judge or condemn moms who do!).

I truly enjoy this lifestyle. However.

I've noticed this cycle:
November:

As the weather turns bad, we begin adjusting to being inside more. There are still fair-weather days when the children can play outside and hike in the woods, so we get to ease into this concentrated family togetherness. The wood stove helps us feel cozy together and adjust. It is also the month of focusing on gratitude and I'm beginning to realize how vital this is going into those harsh winter months.

December:

Focus turns to Christmas and the busy-ness of the season. Gifts to make and purchase and wrap keep even smaller hands occupied. Then there's all the holiday baking and cooking. White twinkle lights and songs of Christ's birth help set a worshipful atmosphere in our home. There are bountiful blessings to be thankful for during the month of December!

January:

With three birthdays this month, there is much celebration in our home. Plus Terry and I usually go away to celebrate our anniversary (Dec. 30), which helps break up the monotony of winter. Then there are occasional snow showers to facilitate impromptu sledding parties (we have an amazing sledding hill in the woods!).

February:

The house seems to shrink. It's too cold in the boys' room (the room furthest from the wood stove) to play in there. So the building blocks, cars, trucks, army men, etc. litter the living room floor. Along with dolls and dishes (the upstairs isn't really big enough for the little girls to play up there either). So the house looks and feels cluttered. All. The. Time. This alone wears on me. In addition, frequent sledding trips + snow shoveling = wet clothes which translates into more laundry, which makes more clutter. Cooped up children become bored and irritable and begin to bicker ("you're breathing my air"). We feel cramped and cluttered and we begin to complain. Ugh.

By the end of February I'm worn down. I am dreaming of summer. Of blue skies and green grass. Of warm breezes and beaches. I'm all for selling our shrunken house and moving to Florida. Anything to escape this craziness; away from the cold. Away from the small, cluttered house. Away from the murmuring and complaining that drains my energy.

But then I remember this one little phrase that packs so much truth:

My children are murmuring because I am complaining.

Then the ugly truth: Grumbling has settled into my spirit as cold and harsh as any winter chill.

The enemy of our souls loves to take the trials that God means for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28) to get us to murmur and complain.

The Lord brings to my mind a verse that seems to roll off my tongue whenever I'm counseling a friend who is walking through a trial. With these words--God's powerful Word-- I begin counseling myself...

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

1 Thessalonians 5:18

THIS is where the Lord has me. Right here (in this cramped and cluttered little house). Right now (in the dead of winter during a brief season of my life). For such a time as this (to live out my faith as I train up Godly sons and daughters).

I've written about contentment here before, of how the Lord has used this little house to change my perspective, But come the end of February, I find myself in need of not only a new perspective, but a new resolve to be intentional in demonstrating gratitude as well.

How are you getting through this winter?

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My Daughters were Stopped for Drunk Driving!

2015-02-23T07:00:00.000-05:00

Messaging with a friend on Friday evening, I mentioned how hard it is for me to go to sleep when the girls are gone. They were attending a gathering of friends hosted by our pastor's son and his wife and would most likely be out late. A light-hearted joke was made about the girls getting drunk at the party. I responded with, "I'm glad I can joke about stuff like that rather than actually having to worry about what my kids are doing..."

In addition to my own mom, I've known many mothers who would not be able to joke about this issue.

Sobering thoughts.

Photo credit

It is common knowledge that 26 yr old Stephanie is directionally-challenged, so it was no surprise that she took a wrong turn when she and Haley left the gathering that Friday night. The phone GPS began re-routing them on an unfamiliar path.

They unknowingly landed on a deserted divided highway in a particularly dark area, and wound up traveling south in one-way northbound lanes. Within a few minutes, the car began to sputter and then died. Stephanie suddenly recalled Daddy's parting words, "You have enough gas to get there, but you'll need to get gas as soon as you leave." This was important because the electrical has been messed up a bit since his car accident last summer. The gas gauge doesn't work properly.

As the dead car rolled to a stop, Stephanie steered it onto the shoulder of the road. The girls were discussing their options when Haley suddenly noticed headlights out the passenger window and both girls realized in horror that they were in fact on a divided highway and they had been headed the wrong direction!

Nineteen year old Haley seems to find humor even in the worst situations, and this scenario was no different. She began to giggle, prompting Stephanie to laugh at her mistake as well.

But then the gravity of the situation began to dawn on them, sobering them up a bit:

It was freezing outside.
It was after 1 a.m.
They were over an hour from home-
in unfamiliar territory.
They didn't have the phone number of the friend whose house they had just left.
They were out of gas in the middle of nowhere-
in a car heading south in northbound lanes.

To make matters worse, car headlights were coming toward them, whizzing by as they passed. Haley prayed, asking the Lord to send the right person to help them.

Several cars later a flash of red and blue signaled help was on the way. Stephanie said, "Oh yay! It's a police officer!" Then in the next breath: "Oh shoot! He's gonna think we're drunk!" Haley was giggling again.

As the officer parked in front of the car, the girls were suddenly blinded by a spotlight. He cautiously approached the passenger door. Haley rolled the window down and greeted the officer with an embarrassed smile. The 20-something-year-old deputy sheriff leaned into the car with his flashlight as Stephanie nervously began to explain, "Hey, we ran out of gas. We just came from a party [bad choice of words Steph!]; we're over an hour from home and we just realized we're on the wrong side of the road..."

"Have you girls been drinking?" The officer asked them candidly, looking from one girl to the other. Haley began to snicker quietly as Stephanie assured the officer that neither one of them had ever had a drop of alcohol in their lives. Looking a bit amused he asked for Stephanie's driver's license, which he ran from his car, and then returned to the girls quickly.

He instructed Stephanie to put the car in neutral and he pushed the car as Stephanie steered further off the road. The officer returned to the passenger window, and as they began discussing options he noticed the girls were shivering, so he offered for them to sit in his car to stay warm (the temperature was below zero with biting wind). Stephanie sat in the front and Haley slid into the back seat as the deputy apologized for the mess in his car. The girls both found that a bit comical.

After exploring all the options, the deputy called for backup, requesting another officer bring a can of gasoline. He began to ask questions about the girls' age and such. "Tell me about this 'party' you were at tonight." He inquired. "There wasn't any alcohol?" They shook their heads and reassured him that they don't drink. "Well if you had, then at least you would have an excuse." He motioned toward the car. "But you don't even have that." It was obvious that he was amused by the situation.

Once the other officer arrived, and gas was put into the car, hopes were quickly dashed of a quick resolution. The car wouldn't start.

Both officers readily admitted they knew little about cars and the 2nd officer decided that maybe he simply hadn't put enough gas into the car and went for another gallon of gas.

The girls returned to the police car with the first officer (whose name they do not know). The trio talked casually and Haley asked if this was the worst that had happened that night. The officer shook his head. "Not the worst. But definitely the most eventful!" A sober look passed over his face and Haley pressed him gently, "What was the worst?" He paused, looking out the window at nothing in particular, then began to explain about a young woman who had been beaten up in the street and had been taken to the hospital. He had just left that scene when he got the call about the stalled car in the northbound lanes of Highway 37.

As the girls shared details of the evening, Stephanie admitted that they had stopped at a gas station on their way to the party...to go to the restroom. "And you didn't get gas?!" The officer asked incredulously. Stephanie shook her head. "I forgot about it." She answered honestly. The second officer returned and the first officer stepped out of the car. "We have some new developments in this case!" He said, laughing. The officers told the girls that this story would be the topic of discussion at breakfast. Stephanie and Haley laughed, feeling fortunate that both men were not only respectful, but jovial as well.

The girls waited in the police car as the two men once again tried to start the car, to no avail. A tow truck was called. The second officer left and the first officer tried once again to start the car. He returned to his car, a puzzled expression on his face, as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Girls...what kind of music do you listen to?"

Confused, they answered simultaneously, "Gospel...Classical."

He explained that as he had turned the key in the car, the radio popped on (which it does on occasion, tuning into random stations as part of the electrical issues). Apparently a really bad song was playing.

"It didn't seem to fit two church-going girls." He told them, once again, amused.

Over the police radio, a voice addressed the young officer, "That '1046' is turning into a nightmare for ya; isn't it?" He smiled and answered, "Yeah. But it's a good story." After he clicked off the radio and noted the girls laughing, he said, "Yep; it is a good story." He took a deep breath and said with all seriousness, "Too bad it's gonna cost you 200 bucks." Silence. Several seconds passed before Steph whispered, "Dad's gonna kill me." Haley quietly sighed, "Seriously?" Playing it off the officer said, "Mmm hmm." He allowed several seconds to pass again before he confessed that he was only kidding.

Once the tow truck arrived, the officer gave instructions to the driver and then told the girls that they were fortunate because they had gotten the most decent tow truck driver available. The truck pulled the car into the southbound lanes and made a U-turn. As they slowly passed the car's former resting spot, they saw the second deputy had returned and the cars were parked side-by-side. The girls laughed, imagining the conversation between the two officers.

The tow truck driver was planning to drop the car back at the friends' house, but had to get gas first. He informed the girls that he was going to try once more and lo and behold, the car started!

Soon the girls were on their way; heading in the right direction. They arrived home around 4:20 a.m.

The next morning as I walked into the kitchen I immediately went to the window to check to make sure the car was in the driveway.

Oh good-- the girls made it home safe and sound.

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What Some Husbands Could Learn from Mine

2015-02-18T07:00:00.000-05:00

"He's just not made like that," she said, trying to hide the disappointment in her eyes.

My friend and I were discussing our thoughts about the upcoming Valentine's Day and I had just explained that Terry and I were planning a romantic dinner for two in our camper trailer. But when I asked about her plans, she shrugged it off, claiming her husband doesn't have a romantic bone in his body. He rarely goes out of his way to make her feel special. Or loved.

That makes me sad. For her. And for him. For their marriage and their family.

I did recommend that she initiate and plan a romantic evening. Maybe help transform Mr. Ho-Hum into um...not so boring.

As for me and my man, I hate to admit this, but between the two of us, Terry is much better than I am in the romance department.

He buys me cards. And flowers. And chocolates.
He plans our annual anniversary get-away months in advance.
He randomly surprises me with little gifts.
When our children were little, he would take care of the details of getting a sitter.
He suggested and helped plan my surprise 50th birthday party.
He blesses me with acts of service on special occasions.
He took me on a cruise years ago, planning every detail.

Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy surprising him on occasion and planning random times of romance, but he just seems to be more...intentional.

Take this recent Valentine's Day for instance. He said he was imagining a romantic evening of just the two of us, which would be facilitated by the fact that we have a camper-trailer in our back yard. He told me what he wanted for dinner, and I recorded it on the menu and grocery list. That's about as far as I got with it.

He took over from there, employing the assistance of his cohort; our uber-talented fifteen year old daughter Corrie, who specializes in decorating and making simple occasions extraordinary. The day before Valentine's, she cleaned the trailer thoroughly (which I took note of that night when Terry and I went to bed, as the trailer is our temporary sleeping quarters while we remodel our bedroom).

On the big day, Corrie spent much time in the trailer and even went on a shopping trip with Daddy. Once they returned, she spent even more time out there and I was told I wasn't allowed in until all was ready.

I hadn't been feeling well that day even after a shower failed to make me feel better, as hoped, and so I had remained in my jammies, That evening Corrie came to me and said I had to dress up. It wasn't optional. Okay...

I was escorted out into the darkness by Corrie, MacKenzie, and Haley, whom I believe were along to see my reaction.

I was quite impressed! See...

Everything was beautiful! And Terry had grilled the steaks outside (in -10 degree weather, I might add). It was all perfect. And soooo romantic!

After dinner we were sitting on the trailer sofa talking and he said something about how fortunate we are to be able to do this. I agreed, saying it was amazing how the Lord had provided this little trailer for such interludes. He shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about," he said, pausing to find the right words. "We get to do this...Be married. Raise our children." He turned to look me in the eyes. "We are blessed that we get to do this...together." And he says he's not good with words. Oh my!

As I look at marriages around us, I notice it is generally the wives who are active when it comes to initiating romantic moments. And I also realize that many men aren't gifted with "romantic bones" (haha). But guys, maybe you could just put forth a little effort toward making that little lady of yours feel...loved. Remember that spark she used to have in her eyes? The one that told you that she adored you--that you were her everything? Well, if you want to see that spark ignite, might I make a suggestion? Pursue her heart like you did when your love was brand new.

That's the lesson I think you men could learn from my husband.

Ladies, how is your guy in the romance department?

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5 Reasons I Should Not Have Started Blogging

2015-02-16T06:20:00.002-05:00

"Ready or not; here I go!"

I clicked "Publish" for the very first time and released the breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Even though it has been 5 years this week since that thrilling moment of when I joined the ranks of "mommy bloggers", I clearly remember my trepidation. And for good reason!

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1. I was clueless.

To say that I was technologically challenged is a gross understatement. I could barely keep up with all the rapid changes on Facebook. This was the main reason I decided to go with Blogger; it seemed a whole lot easier to set up and manage than WordPress.

And speaking of challenges, because we live in what some might refer to as "the boondocks", the only internet access we had at that time was good ole dial-up. Just hearing that high-pitched whine and whirl of a dial-up connection causes me to twitch.

2. Busy-ness.

I was teaching six children at home, plus a preschooler and had just given birth to Michael Ray six months before I began this blog. Throw in music lessons, grocery shopping, and weekly trips to the public library, along with the children working at a food ministry several days a month and life goes beyond hectic. In spite of all that craziness, I do recall thinking, "What better time to share with other moms...than when I'm in the 'thick of it' myself!" Haha!

Some friends who know me well have described me as...extreme. Looking back at that season of my life, I'd have to say that is a fairly accurate description.

3. Pressures.

My 71 year old daddy had suffered a heart attack just 4 months before I began this blog. After receiving 5 stents, a pacemaker and defibrillator, he spent several weeks in a nursing home for rehabilitation and came home just after Thanksgiving. He was also diagnosed with advanced C.O.P.D.

It seemed life was just beginning to return to normal when my beloved step-mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer. That was in January 2010.

To add even more chaos to the mix, that same month I suffered a mini-stroke that left me impaired for a couple months. I could still write (and doing so was therapeutic and beneficial), however I could not properly edit, as my mind refused to retain what I'd read from sentence to sentence. I was content to write; my daughters would edit.

4. Inexperience.

Apart from a life-long love of words and a passion to write, I had no prior writing experience. In fact, I failed journalism in high school, and didn't exactly ace language arts. But I had been journaling consistently for several years and had also maintained a letter writing ministry to a friend in prison for nearly a decade, which I believed helped to hone my writing skills. Plus I figured what better way to improve at writing than to um...write?!

Even with this desire to express myself, coupled with a hope to bless others while glorifying the Lord, I wasn't thoroughly convinced that I had material worthy to captivate readers. Would anyone really be interested in what I had to say?

Sharing my testimony of salvation on the World Wide Web was a motivating factor for me. But apart from that story. and the fact that a few friends had expressed interest in reading how we made things work in our large family (and in a tiny house!), I was skeptical that strangers would find my stories engaging enough to hang around. Nor was I sure that I had enough stories to sustain a blog for longer than a few months. Ha! (This is my 373rd published post!)

I was so excited when I received my very first comment and then reached the "10 Followers" milestone--all within that first week! I was hooked!

5. I did not have a thick skin.

All is well and fine when others appreciate your writing and leave sweet comments of how helpful your post is. Though I had made the decision from the beginning to transparently share my struggles and (costly) lessons I'd learned, I was not prepared for the Ugly Side of the web.

In February 2011, when my series on Loving a Rebel was re-posted, discussed, and shredded by some not so nice folks whom I've come to facetiously refer to as "My Fan Club", I began to seriously reconsider blogging. Their vile and nasty comments, both on their site as they discussed the post, and the ones left on my blog, left me feeling insecure, violated, and vulnerable. I nearly shut down the Shoebox over the incident.

But by the time I published another highly controversial post--Haley's Covenant Ceremony in July 2012 (which has remained my #1 post) -- I was prepared for the battle and had no trouble maintaining my composure; annihilating inappropriate comments ("Delete") and approving and answering those of genuine worth.

Though the initial experience was unpleasant, I do feel as though I grew through it, both as a person as well as a writer.

So here I am; five years later.

Still blogging. Still sharing my stories. Still praying the Lord will somehow use these words to bless others and to glorify Himself.

I'm glad I didn't know what was ahead when I clicked that "Publish" button for the first time five years ago. The work. The frustration. Learning to let go of my pride and fear of man. Revisiting the pain of the past.

But as so many other facets of my life, I believe this blogging journey--though difficult at times-- has been well worth the cost.

And I'm oh so thankful for the wonderful people I've met here. For your words of encouragement. For your willingness to share your heart and the pain of your own experiences. For your insights.

Thanks for hanging around.

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The Secret We've Been Keeping

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1. Vacations in the Off Season.

2. Monitoring Friendships.

3. Emotional Freedom

4. Personalized Education.

5. Family Togetherness.

6. Sense of Community and Support.

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3. Meals from scratch

4. Planned, infrequent trips into town

5. No cable or satellite.

6. Buy used.

7. We don't drink milk.

8. Home remedies.

9. Heating and Air.

10. Meal Stretching.

11. Gardening and Food Preservation.

12. Depend on the Lord.

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"Ready or not; here I go!"

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