oh those phone calls....

My daddy was the most important thing in my world when I was small; he was my anchor, my hero, my comforter...I trusted and loved him more than anyone else I knew.

I know I've told you that before, but I love saying it because I love/d him.

All that changed when I was 7 or 8 and my parents divorced. Dad moved to Michigan and I moved to Colorado. From that point on our relationship was sporadic and required actual work to maintain. I was only able to see my dad twice a year-the rest of the time we communicated via letters or his phone calls.

Those phone calls...they were intensely bittersweet and always left me feeling lonely, hungry for more of him. On the other hand, I always felt treasured and missed; I knew he was lonely and hungry for more of me too.

The worst part of each phone call was saying goodbye. At first, when I'd hear his voice on the other end of the line, I was thrilled. My daddy had called me! He'd ask me about school, my friends, what I was doing for fun, and then he'd tell me about his life and what he was up to. After a bit we'd come to the end of the conversation and dad would say, "Well sweetheart, I love you. I miss you. I'll call again soon, but for now let's hang up."

"OK daddy. I love you too. Bye..."

Silence. Neither one of us hanging up.

"Judy, are you still there?"

"Yes daddy."

"Sweetheart, we need to hang up now, so hang up the phone."

"OK daddy. I love you..."

Silence. Neither one of us wanting to end the delicate connection we had.

"Judy, why don't you hang up?"

"Because I miss you daddy...."

"OK sweetie. Let's hang up together. I'll count. 1, 2, 3..."

and then I'd hang up. I wouldn't leave the phone for a long time though. I'd sit there, staring at it, waiting, wondering if he had actually hung up. Was he still there, on the other end of the line, hoping to hear my voice telling him I love him? Telling him more than I already had? Was he longing for those tiny phone wires to keep me there, in the room with him, as close as we could be under the circumstances? Sometimes I'd doubt his love, and would wonder, did his heart hurt like mine did, or was he off and running, on to the next thing?

I'd sit there, staring at the phone, aching to hear his deep, comforting voice cradling me, making me feel loved and safe....so thankful he'd called, relieved to know he still loved me, regardless of our circumstances.

There are so many spiritual parallels here...so many. A Father's love, a deep connection, sin severing that, work that brings it back, work that maintains it, doubt, time spent together that heals it....

I think, if this were my last blog post...if I never put my fingers on a keyboard again, my last words to you would be Romans 8: 38-39. Unlike my dad's availability, God is always, always, always available. We can talk to Him and pour out our hearts to Him incessantly. (I think He'd actually enjoy that.) His love is constant and there's no reason to ever doubt it.

I used those 2 verses yesterday when I wrote, but they are perfect for today as well and I pray you would get it. I pray I would get it...

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all of creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

(not even severed phone lines...)

just reflecting....

A year ago my back blew up. No, not the whole thing-just one tiny piece. But that was enough for me. If my life has a check list of things for me to go through before I'm called home, "horrible" has now been checked off... I hope.

While the pain I felt was the scariest, worst experience I could ever imagine happening to me, things that have happened since then have made that time almost worth it.

In the first place, I saw just how deeply and truly my husband and sons love me. They went above and beyond the call of duty to take care of me and let me know they'd actually lay down their lives for me. It's been a humbling year in that regard and I feel as if I don't deserve them.

Because I was pretty much an invalid for 10 months the computer has become a blessing and a curse. I'm now addicted to it, but also incredibly thankful for it. The best part has been finding old friends on facebook and getting reacquainted with them and making new friends there as well.

I've done a lot of whining and fretting in the last year...wondering if I'll ever be as normal as I ever was before. (whatever that means) I was literally forced to S.T.O.P. for 10 months and that's not something I do easily. I like to function and when I couldn't I felt like, " Just dump me overboard. I'm no longer a productive member of society." On the other hand, I've been strangely thankful for this time. How many people are given the gift of being able to step out of the picture and just laze around for almost a year? The stresses that normally invade my head were invisible because I was so focused on pain and healing-nothing else mattered. So, depending on how you look at it, this was a deeply refreshing year.

I learned that I'm not as important as I thought I was. The earth went on spinning and the seasons came and went, people went about their business and life went on as usual-all without my help. This is a good thing to discover. Really, it is. God is God and He can manage things perfectly whether I'm up and running or not. My faith has deepened because of this experience. That alone does make it worth it.

I'm sure there are other things I've learned and more blessings I'll discover as I slowly creep away from this year. Sometimes we need a bird's eye view of an experience to see what God was up to. Sometimes, unfortunately, He never tells us. Even if this is all I ever see, it's enough.

I do have one more thing to add, just to keep it real. Over the last year I've often felt like I had a big target on my head. I wanted to borrow Frodo's elven cloak and hide under it until God "forgot" all about me. The only thing is, God didn't forget about me. He crawled right in there under the cloak with me, put His arms around me and held me through it. Sometimes it didn't feel that way but it's true. I can see it now.

11 Things I Will Never Forget

1. Crawling in bed with my parents when I was little and laying my head on my daddy's chest. I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating and feel the warmth of him being there, alive and protecting me.

2. Finding a huge, dead, petrified toad in the corner of our closet behind my shoes. Thanks guys.

3. The day my husband burglarized something for me.

4. The last words my dad ever spoke to me.

5. The way our sons treated me on their wedding days.

6. The first time my husband kissed me.

7. Seeing my husband take an antique weed whacker to lop off a chicken's head, thus freeing our sons to play outside again without fear. :-)

8. Discovering I can be gut wrenchingly honest with God and He still loves me.

9. My 3rd son's incredible, amazing, whacky sense of humor. Sometimes he makes me laugh until I can hardly stand up.

10. Coffee dates with my best friend.

11. The moment our 4th son was born. He was born at home in a kiddie swimming pool in the middle of our livingroom. Quite the experience!

Sometimes Something Little Can Be Quite Big

After my parents' divorce was final my dad had visitation rights-2 weeks at Christmas and 2 weeks every summer. So, every Christmas, and every summer my mom would put me on a plane and I'd fly from Denver to Michigan to see him. At Christmas time there was too much going on for dad and I to have any time alone. It seemed like there was too much going on in the summer as well, but he did manage to squeeze a little time out for the 2 of us during those summer visits.
At some point during my 2 week stay dad would say, "Come on, Jude, let's go for a boat ride."
We'd climb into his row boat and he'd row around the lake for a little while. Then he'd stop rowing and look at me. "How are you?" he'd ask.
"Fine."
"Is there anything you need or want to talk to me about?"
"No."
He'd looked slightly relieved and we'd row home.
Well, way back in 2002 we had a family reunion at my dad's house and guess what? Early in the afternoon he strolls up to me and says, "Come on Jude, let's go for a boat ride." I was 41 years old and really didn't think I needed a boat ride in order to talk to him. But, apparently he did.
We climbed into the boat and he rowed around and then out to the middle of the lake. He stopped, looked down, sighed, then said sadly,
"I have floaters."

It took me so off guard I nearly spluttered. Well that isn't what I was expecting....

"I'm sorry dad....."
"That's ok. I just wanted to tell you...."

and we rowed home. It was such a sweet, vulnerable thing for him to do and it meant so much to me that he took the time to tell me. Of course, I can think of hundreds of things I would've rather heard, but I knew what he wasn't telling me. I love you. I trust you. I need you....
At least that's how I took it. :-)

A Teacher From the Git-Go

When I was a very little girl one of my favorite things to do was go dumpster diving. But, I didn't want to just dive into any old dumpster. Nope. It had to be our school dumpsters. Every year, after classes had been dismissed for the final time, the teachers would clean out their classrooms, their desks, their bookshelves and their closets. And that's when my fun would begin.

I'd wait until they were done with their spring cleaning then I'd climb into each school dumpster and oh the joy! Math books no longer needed. Crayons that smelled like colorful winter days when the playground was too cold to enjoy. Half empty bottles of glue. Wide lined paper we'd used to practice writing Aa Aa Aa Bb Bb... beautiful, shiny little scissors still alive, ready and willing to be put to work. Reading books full of wonderful stories...

I'd lug as many of those school supplies as I could carry home to our basement and put them on a little table we had set up down there. Then I'd go round up my friends and ask them if they wanted to play. Since it was summer time, and hot, we'd naturally gravitate to the coolest places we could find-quite often our basement was the place. I'd be so excited to have my friends over. So excited that they wanted to play! We'd sit there and talk, trying to decide what to do.

"Let's play school!" I'd enthusiastically suggest.

Is it any wonder we'd end up back outside in the heat? They were such a boring lot of kids. What was wrong with them? Why oh why didn't they want to do more math or practice their handwriting? Why didn't they want to read outloud to the rest of us?

I think that's what clinched my decision to be a momma. If I had babies of my own, they'd have to stay in the cool, quiet basement and do school if I said so.

In My Dreams

I'm a keeper of bees

I'm young enough, and in good enough shape to climb Mt. Everest

I am given the same gift Paul was: 3 years alone with Jesus

I live on a rocky, windswept shore of the ocean somewhere where

or

I live on Prince Edward Island



In my dreams:

My husband and I are able to take a hiking trip through the English countryside, stopping at pubs and cozy little bed & breakfasts whenever the mood strikes us. We really need an extended amount of time together....

We have enough time and money to take our sons and their special-someones on a trip from here to Yellowstone and the Giant Redwood Forest

I have parents. I need them so badly

I live out in the country where I can raise a pig every year or so-this would be for eating, not a pet

I would be able to keep flowers alive outside

After my death, but before I get to heaven, Jesus takes me soaring with Him over all of creation. the earth is such an incredible place and there are so, so many places I want to see before He rolls it all up like a scroll:
Mt. Everest
Galapagos Islands
Machu Picchu
New Zealand
The Black Forest
The Swiss Alps
Madagascar
Banff National Park
The Great Barrier Reef
castles in Scotland
The Italian Alps
etc.
etc.
etc.

my funeral is a Celebration not a mourning. (No comments from you, my sons!)

And I dream that someday:

I'll be brave enough to write a book and attempt to have it published.

I'll live without fear and trust the Lord like He should be trusted

Our walls will be painted happy colors, and we'll have new flooring throughout

My brothers and I will be able to have a "funeral" for my dad. The three of us haven't been all together in one place since my dad died 7 years ago. I would love to laugh and cry and say goodbye to him with my brothers

We have a house with a dining room big enough for all of us to sit in, eat in and share our hearts with one another in, without being scrunched

I'll find a hair style I like

In my dreams

I have a Sam and a Turnbul marching through life alongside me

I have 2 someones at my disposal to help rearrange furniture any time the mood strikes

the scriptures speak to my heart in ways I never imagined

I'm not afraid to stand up in front of a crowd and actually speak

I live remembering that Eternity with Jesus is coming


So, how about you? What are some of your dreams? Pipe or otherwise....

A Fun Meme

I woke up this morning feeling slightly more alert than usual. My brain normally takes about 3 hours to catch up with the rest of me once my feet hit the floor in the morning. However, I'm not awake enough to come up with any original ideas for a post-I had this idea set aside for a rainy day and since it's pouring, and my brain is only semi-alert, I thought I'd follow this meme I found at As A Parent, The Days Are Long.....

In your entire life, have you ever......

gone on a blind date? Yes, twice. Once when I was in high school I went out with a college student. He was already balding and he took me to the art museum. At the time those were two strikes against him. The next, and only other time I ventured into the world of blind dates I went out with a guy who was missing a few screws. He really gave me the creeps and boy howdy, was I happy when he dropped me off at my apartment. (I think my roommate set me up with him so she and her boyfriend could have our apartment to themselves for an evening.)

skipped school? Yes.

watched someone die ? Yes. I worked in a nursing home when I was 18. I was with one of the little grandmas when she died. I had to wash her body before the hospital staff could take it to the morgue. I also watched my mom die and was with my dad as he was dieing.

been to Canada? Yes, just once.

been to Mexico? No, but I peeked at it from across the border of New Mexico.

been to Florida? Yes, I actually spent an entire month there when I was 20.

been on a plane? More times than I can count....

been lost? Yes, but only one time was I really worried about it. I got lost in a nasty little area of London.

been on the opposite side of the country? Yes, up and down, east and west.

swam in the ocean? No. Does wadding count? I've done that...

had your booze taken away by the cops? No....

lettered in high school sport? Ha!

cried yourself to sleep? Definitely...

played cops and robbers? Not that I remember....

played dolls? Oh yes. That was my most favorite thing to play.

sung Karaoke? Are you kidding me?

done something you told yourself you wouldn't? More times than I can count.

cheated on an exam? Well, to be honest, yes.

made prank phone calls? Yep.

laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose? Only once or twice.

caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes....

danced in the rain? No....but I've played in the rain and splashed in the mud with our sons.

written a letter to Santa Clause? not that I can remember

watched the sunrise with someone you care about? Oh yes....

been kissed under the mistletoe? Yes, but they weren't romantic kisses.

Ever been arrested? Nope....

blown bubbles? Yes....

gone ice-skating? Yes. Many times.

been skinny dipping outdoors? Another "Ha!"

had a nickname? Nutley and Jude

been to Africa? No....

eaten cookies for dinner? No, but I have 2 every morning with my coffee.

been on TV? Only if home movies count.

been in a car accident? Yes, but I was so young I don't remember them.

What is your Mother's name? Juanita Esther. How's that for a girl who was 100% German?

favorite drink? water

favorite alcohol? Well, when I was 9 or 10 my brother Jimmy used to take me to the bar with him so he could hang out with his friends and play pool. He would buy a Tequila Sunrise and plop me on a bar stool in front of it while he played. Is there a ten year old on the planet who wouldn't want to taste something so pretty? I loved them! Now the only alcohol I like is pink champagne.

birthplace? the windy city. (Chicago)

favorite vacation spot? road trips with my husband

favorite salad dressing? balsamic vinegar and olive oil

favorite pie? Apple or Derby. Derby pie is just a pecan pie with chocolate chips thrown in. It's so good I never make it because, well, I'd eat it.

favorite number? 18 or 22

favorite movie? A&E's version of Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Master and Commander, Lord of the Rings Trilogy....probably others I can't think of right now

favorite holiday? Thanksgiving

favorite food? depends on the day but I do have an emotional attachment to Pizza Hut pizza

favorite day of the week? Monday

favorite brand of body wash? Prairieland Herbs Sugar Scrub-Rosemary and Mint. (Thank you sooooo much Rachel!)

favorite toothpaste? Crest

favorite smell? Baking bread, new babies, rain, mint, eucalyptus, patchouli, lavender, brownies baking, etc.

Do you have any tattoos? Ha!

body piercings? Only ears.

Do you drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle? 4-door.

What do you do to relax? Read, blog, walk, hike, coffee with friends

How do you see yourself in 10 years? That's a gloomy picture. Our youngest son will be 17 and I'll be looking at a truly empty nest. I'm not going to go into all that right now.

17 Things About Me

I've noticed something in the blogging world. There are a lot of people who, upon reaching their 100th post, post a list of "100 Things" about themselves. When my 100th post rolled around I thought that might be something fun to do, but then never did it.
Last week I had about 744 profile views and thought that might be a good reason to post my 100 Things List.

However, I couldn't think of 100 things about me that would be interesting enough to write down in a list. As a matter of fact, it took ALL 6 of us all weekend to come up with the 17 things I am going to write.

I better stop babbling and get to the point. So, here they are:

1. I cannot make Tomato Soup from scratch.

2. I love prunes on pizza.

3. I use baking soda as a facial scrub several times a week.

4. I almost drowned in the Colorado River.

5. I want a game plan for every minute of my life-that includes my funeral plans.
(Do you see why the Lord is still dealing with me on the issue of "control"?)

6. I was 43 years old before I really started to believe the Lord had given me any strengths or gifts.

7. I took a hot air balloon ride when our first son was 1 month old. I never told my husband this, but as the balloon was lifting off, I flippantly gave our baby to my sister-in-law should the balloon crash and I not survive.

8. My kids have to put more layers of clothing on when I'm cold.

9. I had straight hair until I turned 40-it's been getting more and more curly ever since. (I shudder to think what I'll look like when I'm 70. Anybody hear the word "poodle"?)

10. I'm a good shot with a gun.

11. I am really good at putting things away for safe keeping. I'm so good at it that I often never again find what I hid to keep safe.

12. I hate talking on the phone.

13. Last year the youth group leader at our church asked our two oldest sons when the first time was that they ever heard their dad cuss. After thinking that over for a bit they both grinned. One of them had the nerve to actually tell the truth. They couldn't remember their dad having ever cussed; however, they could remember one of their other parents cussing on occasion. (I won't tell you who that was.)

14. Whenever there are tornado watches or warnings I want to deep clean the house. I'm not talking about the need to expend nervous energy during the storm. I mean I want to clean everything days before the storms ever enter the state.

15. My mom died 11 years ago. I don't miss her. I miss the idea of a mom, but I don't miss mine.

16. My brothers were 17, 15, and 12 when I was born. Our 3 older sons were 16, 14, and 10 when we had our last baby.

17. This is our oldest son Benjamin's contribution to this list. He said, (and I'm taking this as a compliment) that if I were to be dropped in the middle of nowhere with a bowie knife and a box of matches, people could come back 6 months later and I'd have a small village built. (I'm assuming that means he thinks I'm somewhat intelligent and resourceful rather than tough and he-manish, but I was afraid to ask.)

A Fieldtrip to the Symphony

Over the course of 17 plus years of homeschooling, I had to establish some rules regarding field trips. There were the usual rules like, "Use your manners."
"Don't fight with your brothers."
"Don't run out into traffic."
"Don't pick your nose in public."
"Wear clean clothes." etc. etc.

We did have 1 rule that not too many other families had however. If the boys wanted the field trip to count for school in any way, shape or form, they had to tell me 3 things they had learned while on the field trip. (I'm not at all sure they retained what they "learned", but the rule at least helped them pay attention to the tour guide or the lecture or...... while we were there.)
In keeping with that tradition, I thought I'd tell you the things I learned during my recent field trip to the Symphony.

1. Pantyhose could be used as a substitute for torture-by-rack.

2. High heeled shoes could be used as a substitute for water torture.

3. I now know what a French Horn looks like.

4. I do not like modern classical music. (Thankfully they only played one piece of modern music.)

5. Pantyhose could be used as a substitute for being dunked in boiling oil.

6. Every person on earth should have the privilege of seeing/hearing Bolero by Ravel performed live. To me that was the highlight of the evening!

7. I'd rather be hung upside-down by my ankles in a dungeon than to have to ever, ever, wear pantyhose again.

8. In order to get a POW to talk, all they'd have to do is force him into a pair of pantyhose and high heels and not let him sit down. His tongue would start wagging in 34 seconds flat.


By the way, it seems that I was worried about the wrong end of things. While I was fretting over my ability to walk in high heels I completely forgot about my head. I had a Bad Hair Day on Saturday and was able to walk quite well in those heels. By the end of the evening I had even mastered stairs.

Seriously, we did have a wonderful evening and thoroughly enjoyed the music. I can see now why season tickets to the symphony were recommended as a way of "rekindling romance" in one marriage book I read.

One other by-the-way, I'm in the market for a pair of sequined Mukluks for our next date. Just name the price and I'll pay it.

Shoes

Once upon a time there was a tiny girl. She loved to run barefoot through the grass and let mud squish between her toes.
When she was a little older she moved to the mountains of SUNNY Colorado. There she roamed the mountains in hiking boots.
On her wedding day she wore little white ballet slippers. (Not Nikes. She wasn't planning on running away from her groom.)
For her first Christmas as a newly married woman she wanted to surprise her husband. She bought a little black dress and some black heels. They were going to Denver to see the Nutcracker and she wanted to look mature. Instead, she looked like the person she really was. A young bride, used to wearing hiking boots, wobbling down the sidewalk hoping she wouldn't fall off one of her high heels and sprain an ankle.
Over time the Lord blessed this girl with 4 boisterous boys. Black heels? Not on your life. Sneakers became her shoe of choice. Sneakers and blue jeans. Practical. Comfortable.
Finally, those boys grew up. They wanted to bless their parents and give them a night to remember. They all pitched in and bought their mother and father tickets to the symphony!
Now the girl-grown-up had a problem. What to wear. Could she....would she dare.....the temptation was great. She wanted to wear her sneakers and blue jeans. Reason won out and she once again decided to don a dress. A friend had given her a beautiful, black, flowing skirt. So, a little black sweater and another pair of black heels were purchased.
Saturday night this girl-turned-middle-aged mother will once again try and impress her husband. Her sneakers will be tucked away in the closet. With black shoes on her feet, she'll wobble down the sidewalk, hoping she won't fall off one of her high heels and sprain an ankle.

Now You Know Why I Yam the Way I Yam

My dad was born in 1924. He grew up an only child. He had a very event-filled life that included divorced parents, going to live with his grandmother when he was a young boy, serving in the military in WWII, being shot in the foot in a hunting accident, and raising 6 sons.
One day when he was in his 50's his dad called him.
"Frank, are you busy?"

"Not particularly. What do you need Dad?"

" I need you to go to a funeral with me this afternoon."

"Sure thing, Dad. Whose funeral is it?"

"Well, uh, that's the thing. It's your brother's."

"My brother's? I don't have a brother."

"Yes, actually you do. He's been living in an institution all his life because he was crazy and he died. Will you go with me to his funeral?"


True story. I didn't tell Mike about this until after we were married.

40 Things in the Life of an Italian Child

Even though my mom was 100% German, she almost literally became an Italian when she married my dad. I can't think of one "German" thing about her except some of her recipes and her stubborn will. (But that's an Italian trait too, isn't it?) As a result, I hardly ever think of myself as being German/Italian. I am "Italian".
This list brought back so many childhood memories for me! I had to laugh out loud when I read the one about the male relatives being named Tony, Frank, Joe, or Louie. My dad's name was Frank, I had a Grandpa Tony, I have a brother named Tony, and another brother named Frank Joseph. I'm not sure where this list originated, but thought it would be fun to share with you:

40 things in the Life of an Italian Child

You have at least one relative who wore a black dress every day for an entire year after a funeral.
You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch was pronounced "sangwich."
Your family dog understood Italian.
Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents and extended family.
You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50 square feet of yard during a family cookout.
You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat three meals a day, not seven.
You thought killing the pig each year and having salami, capacollo, pancetta and prosciutto hanging out to dry from your shed ceiling was absolutely normal.
You ate pasta for dinner at least three times a week, and every Sunday.
You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and that the price of everything was negotiable through haggling.
You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.
You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.
You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.
Your mom's main hobby is cleaning.
You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold in stores.
You thought that everyone made their own tomato sauce.
You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday for that matter.
You ate your salad after the main course.
You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.
You were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.
You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in your left hand.
You can understand Italian but you can't speak it.
You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.
All of your uncles fought in a World War.
You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Frank, Joe or Louie.
You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.
You have relatives you don't speak to.
You drank wine before you were a teenager.
You relate on some level, admit it, to the Godfather and the Sopranos.
You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing out of it.
Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic.
You thought that talking loud was normal.
You thought sugared almonds and the Tarantella were common at all weddings.
You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and had money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.
Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what their age.
There was a crucifix in every room of the house,
You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father. (oh, and he has to be Italian)
You called pasta "macaroni".
You dreaded taking out your lunch at school.
Going out for a cup of coffee usually meant going out for a cup of coffee over Zia's house.
Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and accident was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.

I Wonder.....

Why are the French called "The Frogs"?
Will our sons marry girls that like their in-laws?
How does De-Ja-Vu happen? (And how do you spell it?)
Where do our choices and God's sovereignty begin and end?
Why are most dinner plates round?
Why does every man seem at least a little sad and like the little boy never left as his body grew into adulthood?
Why don't shins have more padding on them?
Who would I be if my parents had never divorced?
Why do I have good hair days when I'm not going to see anyone?
How do you let your kids go?
Where is heaven?
When my boys are old and I'm gone, and they're sitting around discussing their childhoods, what will they say about the way I mothered them? What baggage have I piled on their shoulders?
What color should we paint our living room?
How do you "parent" adult kids?
Why did God make males and females soooooo different and then stick me in house with 5 guys?
What should I have my grandchildren call me? Grandma Judy is just awful! Maybe Granny Annie? (Ann is my middle name)
How am I more like Christ because of the things I've gone through?
Why don't my brothers, sisters-in-law, and nephews and nieces read my blog?
Where is my fishing license?
Why do I hate most words that start with "th"?
Should I just make 5 identical scrapbooks of our family? One for each boy and another one for Mike and me?
Should we start stockpiling dry goods and water?
Should Alec and I take the rest of the year off so he can play with Legos and I can scrapbook?

December in Barcelona Or: I'm Glad I Listened to Mom

It all started when I was 3. I discovered pretend food, tiny plastic dishes, a little iron that actually heated up, and baby dolls. Right then I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I wanted to be a wife and mommy, and that's all I wanted.
That was the supreme goal in my little life. It didn't change as I grew into a young girl, and then an early teen. By the time I was 12 I had several checks against those goals ever becoming a reality.
1. I was not exactly skinny-boys only looked at me to tease me about my not-so-skinny state.
2. My parents were divorced-I had all kinds of emotional baggage from that. For one thing, I was afraid of ending up like they were someday. Hence, I thought, no way. I'm not even going to get married!
3. I can't think of anymore right now so I'll just get on with the story.

As I grew older, I would often whine, "Mom, why don't boys pay attention to me? I want to get married. I want to be a mom...." etc. etc. (Even though the thought of "divorce" terrified me.)
My mom's best advice came from those whiny moments. She just kept saying,"Judy, you're going to be married for a long time. And once you have kids, your life will change forever. Enjoy being young and single. Travel. Try new things! Meet people and make friends with all of them! You'll be tied down to a house, bills, responsibilities for the rest of your life. Just enjoy everything you can before you get married."

Well, for some strange reason I actually listened to my mother. (That didn't happen often) and a year after I graduated from high school I found myself on a mission trip with YWAM. There I was, 19 years old, temporarily living in a campground on the Mediterranean Sea just outside Barcelona, Spain. It was December and cold.

The bathrooms were large and had many sinks, toilets, and showers. The only problem was that the walls of the bathroom building did not go all the way up to the ceiling. Do you know what that means? You were basically showering outside in temperatures that averaged in the 30's. We had to wash our clothes outside in large mudroom-type sinks. The temperature averaged in the 30's.

While we were there, one of the girls wanted to be water baptized in the campground swimming pool. Ice had to be chipped off the pool before she could get in it to be dunked.

There were 7 of us girls literally stuffed into 1 camper. One poor girl even had to sleep on the floor of our cramped camper.

There was no central meeting room so anytime we had a worship service or even a meal, we met or ate outside, standing up. The temperatures averaged in the 30's.

Nearly every morning I would head to the beach to watch the sunrise. I'd stand there, in the sand, all alone except for Jesus. I was alone because no one else wanted to be on a beach when the temperatures averaged in the 30's. Just as the sun was peeking over the edge of the water I'd close my eyes and sing. I had never been happier.
There I was, alone with Jesus, having the adventure of my life. Seeing new things, exploring the world, making new friends, and learning more and more about the One who was and is my best friend. Worship just came naturally from a full and overflowing heart.

Sometimes as I stood there singing my heart out, I would suddenly be distracted by a strange and unpleasant odor. The Barcelona sewage system was located right outside the campground. When the wind was blowing in the direction of the campground, well, you can imagine. Yuck. Sometimes I was able to ignore it and go on singing. If that happened, something else would come along as a distraction. Right beyond the Barcelona sewage system was the Barcelona airport. Vroooooommms! from planes either taking off or landing would be sure to drown out any singing the stink hadn't managed to choke off.

I had a friend on our mission team I adored. Barry. He was from England. We hit it off and laughed for 4 months. (Our mission team had been in England for a 3 month training period before we went on the mission trip to Spain.) No romance, just a wonderful friendship. Sometimes we could hardly walk because we'd be laughing so hard.

There were YWAM teams from other countries staying at the campground while we were there. One of them was from Sweden. One morning, in the pre-dawn darkness we were all awakened by the sound of singing. Lovely singing. Sweet voices singing beautiful Swedish Christmas carols. As we all stumbled out of our little campers we saw something that I personally will never forget. The girls from the Swedish YWAM team were drifting through the campground singing. They were all dressed in white robes with shimmering red sashes tied around their waists. In their soft golden hair they wore Evergreen wreaths surrounded with lit candles. This was their Christmas gift to anyone who happened to be there that dark, December morning.

I've been doing this wifey, mommy thing for 23 years now. I've not had the chance to see too many exciting places since I said, "I do." The Lord has given me the desire of my heart and blessed me with a wonderful husband and 4 amazing sons. He's also blessed me with sweet and funny memories from a lifetime ago.
My mom was right. I've been blessed twice over. Two rich, full lives. I'm glad I listened to her.

Where I'm From

I am from sawdust under my dad's table-saw,

from Tang, and frozen pot pies.

I am from a quaint place called Sunnybrook Lodge:

the crick, tiny rental apartments, and wet snow falling on my hair as I wander at night.

I am from the mountains,

the pine trees,

wildflowers, and elk.

From ma's mostachioli & homemade bread,

pride and independence,

from Richters and Rinellas and 3 big brothers.

I'm from the people who have an answer for everything,

this too shall pass, and don't freeze your gee gee.

I'm from be careful how you pray, you might get what you ask for

and God helps those that help themselves.

I'm from Chicago, proud Italians

and stubborn Germans.

I'm from chocolate and gin & tonic,

a dad who liked to hunt and fish, fish and hunt,

and a mom who pushed on despite everything.

Her treasures were her children and grandchildren,

now scattered between heaven and earth. Her

family was priceless.

A Midlife Crisis Moment With jan

I'm tired. Very tired. I woke up this morning I think even more tired than when I went to bed.

We've lived in this house 4 years and for some reason our bathroom ceiling has started to mold.
Mike's checked the roof, no problems. He's gone into the attic-bone dry.

Saturday Barrett slipped while climbing around on his bed and fell. His head crashed into Alec's turtle aquarium and broke the glass. Thankfully Barrett just got a couple bumps on his head! However, their room now smells like a cross between wet, moldy carpet and poopy turtle water.

2 of our appliances are dying.

I used to be able to pay the boys 1 cent for every grey hair they plucked. If they pulled out my greys now I'd look like a mangy dog.

My skin is losing it's elasticity. When I pinch the skin on my hand it stays pinched.

Our house is so tiny we are literally going to have to put one of our livingroom chairs in the back of our van for a few weeks if we want to put up a Christmas tree.

Petty stuff, I know. I know.

How about this? In the last week we've seen all 3 of our older boys going through very hard, intense things. We've spent hours talking with a couple of them about their struggles. Mike and I both feel like Charlie Brown's teacher must've felt. We talk but the words just end up in their ears like, "Wawawawa wawaaa wawa......."
What's the point in going through hard things, and learning life lessons if even your kids won't listen to you?

I just finally have accepted the fact that parenting is like marriage. It's an "until death do us part" proposition.

The hard part is surrendering them to the Lord, like you have to do with your spouse. It's up to the Lord to teach them and take care of them. My problem is control. I want to solve their problems. I want to make them comfortable. I want them happy, not struggling.

Alec doesn't come by his stubborn, strong-will mysteriously. Surrender.

It's SO much easier to live with Barrett. With him all I have to worry about is if those gagging noises he's making while he eats his brussel sprouts are going to result in puking on the kitchen floor. Even that would be OK. The floor needs to be mopped anyway.

Strange, Sad, Weird, Funny or Wonderful

I love lists. Last night as Alec and I took turns trying to knock over his Lego guys with rubber bands, I started thinking about some of the strange, sad, or wonderful things that have happened in my/our lives over the years. So far, here's the run down of things remembered:

• One evening when Alec was about 8 we were sitting in our living room and he said, "I wish I could see a bat. I've never seen a bat. I'd love to see a bat!" Not 5 minutes later a bat swooped down out of the chimney and started circling the room.
• On one visit to the Dr. I happened to peek at my medical chart when the Dr. left the room. At the bottom of the chart were the words: Judy may need psychiatric care.
• Walking past our oldest son's room one morning I noticed his mattress was flipped upside down. His sheets and mattress pad were between the mattress and the box spring. I called him and asked him what on earth had happened to his bed. His reply: "I have no idea. I just woke up this morning and it was like that."
• I was asked out by 3 guys in 1 day in high school.
• I ran over my husband's dog and killed it.
• Twice, after much prayer, when there wasn't enough money to pay our bills and buy groceries we were anonymously given bags of groceries and some cash. The money equaled exactly, to the penny, what we needed to pay the bills.
• I had straight hair my entire life. For the last 6 years it's been getting more and more curly.
• One of our sons was born in a kiddie pool in the middle of our living room.
• I found an actual arrowhead in a creek.
• For 8 years we rented a house, a large pond, and 20 some acres. We were allowed to cut down the dead trees for firewood. One afternoon we were out cutting wood and the caretaker wandered by. He saw what we were doing and said, "You really shouldn't be doing that. The people who built this place are dead, but their spirits might wander by and they wouldn't like to see those trees coming down."
• Our oldest son has 1 key for his truck. One. Uno. This is a kid who loses stuff like there was no tomorrow. He's never had a copy made because it would cost too much and be too much of a hassle. (The key has one of those electronic thingies in it. I'm not sure what it does.) Anyway-one morning last year he couldn't find The Key. It didn't take long before the whole family was pulling the house apart trying to find it. After about a half hour of searching Benjamin suddenly, casually, grabbed a hanger. He straightened it out and scooped it under the dishwasher and pulled out his key. Then he sauntered out the door, acting like he'd known where the key was the whole time and had been testing the rest of the family to see how good we were at finding things.
• I worked in a nursing home when I was 19. One morning when I arrived at work I was told to go to "Leda's" room. As I walked in her door I saw that she was dying. I held her hand and talked to her until she passed away. I was then told to wash her body before "they" came and took it to the hospital. That was my first up-close experience with death and really made me see that earth is just a passing through place.

20. I got kicked out of youth group in high school.

For Me and Anyone Else Who's Weary in the Trenches

When I was 19 I went to a missions meeting in Denver. There I heard about something wonderful called Homeschooling. I knew instantly that that was the mission field God was calling me to. It wasn't deepest, darkest Africa, like I'd been fearing! It was my children God wanted to send me to.

So, a year later, as Mike and I found our relationship deepening and the word "marriage" began to enter our conversations, I talked to Mike. "Mike, God told me to homeschool my kids, and it's something I want to do too. Is that OK with you? Because if you have a problem with it we need to end our relationship right now." (I'm SO thankful he didn't have a problem with it! :-) )

Tomorrow I will start my 17th year of homeschooling. If you add up the individual years I've taught each child it adds up to 37 years!!

I'm more tired, weary, and unmotivated this year than I think I've ever been. I had a fun, relaxing, busy summer and I don't want my free time to end. It's not that I want to quit homeschooling. I just want to postpone starting indefinitely.

This morning I sat down with my bible and some notes taken from homeschool convention workshops I've gone to to refresh my memory on why I do this. Hopefully this will help me face tomorrow!

#1. God told me to do it.

#2. Our children are never dying souls entrusted to our care. (Quote from Chris Klicka) that quote sings to my heart.......

#3. 1Cor. 15:58 says: Therefore my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.

I have the advantage of being half-way done. I can look at our 2 oldest and see the truth of that verse.....

#4. Ps 127:3-4 Behold children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb is His reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior so are the children of one's youth.

This verse presupposes there is a spiritual battle and in my mind goes right along with

2Cor. 3:2-3...you are our letter written in our hearts, known and read by all men; clearly you are a letter of Christ, ministered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone, but on tablets of flesh, that is on the heart.

My goals for homeschooling have never been primarily academic. That was always secondary to the goals of raising boys who:

*love Jesus most of all

*reflect Jesus' love to those around them

*are bold and courageous in their faith and won't give in to peer pressure

*are wise. I want them to know we have an enemy who wants to share an eternity of hell with them. I want them to not only recognize his lies but know the truth and how to share that truth with others.

*be men like God with "staying power". Not giving in to their feelings but strong in conviction. Men like their dad who love their wives and children and are willing to lay down their lives for their families..

#5. I feel very close to our 2 oldest sons. That came through spending TONS of time with them, not through scrapbooking, making yo yo quilts, or beaded Christmas tree toppers.



These are the verses that really jumped out at me this morning:

Ps. 51:10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Phil. 4:6-7 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

3rd John 4 I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.

2 Cor. 3:4-5 ...And we have such trust through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think of anything as being from ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God...

2 Cor. 12:9 And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness....

2 Cor. 10:5...casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ......

1 John 3:16 By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren.

2 Thess. 3:5 Now may the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God and the patience of Christ.

Matt. 11:28-30 Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.


My prayer for the boys is Ps. 119:97-101:

Oh how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day. You, through Your commandments, make me wiser than my enemies; For they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers, for Your testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the ancients, because I keep Your precepts. I have restrained my feet from every evil way, that I may keep Your word.

These are too long to write out but they also spoke to my heart this morning:

Eph. 4:11-16 (Another prayer for my sons)

Ps. 78:1-11

I also think of Sam and Frodo during times like this-I picture everything they went through to destroy "the" ring. I especially picture their faces and the pain and the weariness and everything they gave up for their friends. Then I remember 2 Timothy 4:6-7:
For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

The battle I'm in is not as hard or terrifying as the battle Frodo and Sam faced. Nor as hard as the things Paul went through for the sake of the gospel...but this is my battle and I do want to fight the good fight. I want to finish the race, not sit down wearily and wait for the finish line to come to me.
Lord, give me your joy! Help me to praise You and have a thankful heart for the boys, the race, and the freedom to spend all day every day with my kids!

Back to School

My introspective mood is lingering so I've been working on another list. This one is a list of things I either want to, or should, learn. Like my other list, I've tried to come up with 46 things
to post. Here goes:

• How to make a really good omlet
• be a better listener
• study the bible affectively
• style hair. I cut all the hair in our family but it would be great to actually style it!
• draw birds, flowers, some insects, vines, etc.
• be honest and humble in my relationship with Jesus
• try quilling
• clean our upholstry
• what makes each of our sons tick
• be an encourager
• press flowers without having them mold or fade in color
• pray without ceasing
• share my faith with anyone without fear and with wisdom, knowledge, and in love
• I want to try playing a Theramin
• how to get through menopause without any synthetic hormones
• speak in front of a group of people
• basic theology
• computer stuff-I'm not even sure what there is to learn so I can't be more specific
• see the flow of world history and God's hand in it all
• make scones as good as the ones you buy at Panera
• better wife-Mike will know what that means.
• how to obey God instantly
• basics in music appreciation
• how to retain details-I'm a BIG picture person
• to defend the gospel
• world geography
• give our youngest son a love of learning
• more of what it means to glorify God and enjoy Him forever
• understand the chronological flow of the bible
• use my camera without it being on "Automatic Everything"
• make cards
• quit comparing myself to others and accept myself the way I am
• make the ultimate chocolate chip cookies
• understand my husband and why he thinks the way he does. (Is that possible?!)
• scrapbook with ease
• have people over without breaking out in hives!
• apply make-up
• apologetics
• communicate with our sons
• refute wrong doctrine with wisdom
• learn more about basic worldviews
• make a pinecone wreath
• books of New Testament in order
• a brief summary of each book in the bible
• how to be a great mother-in-law (No, no wedding bells yet. Just thinking ahead....)
• live with Eternity in view