The Reasons Why I Cherish This Season

I was the typical American child. Treasures found under the tree on Christmas morning were the focal point of my holiday season. I have fond memories of our little family - Dad, Mom, and I - going to purchase a real tree in preparation. Then came the fun of decorating it with our treasured ornaments and tinsel placed one strand at a time. (I hated that part! Why couldn't I just put it on one handful at a time?! Patience was never my virtue.) We also decorated each other and our dog, the black poodle that ran around us like a maniac as she sensed our excitement.

I remember getting up in the early  morning hours and being mesmerized by the gifts under the tree. Being an only child meant that things did not need to be wrapped or labeled. If they were suitable for a child they obviously were for me. There was always the latest baby doll and her accessories there. After a few years I had quite a large family of children in my downstairs playhouse and I dutifully and lovingly cared for each one while playing. (Hmm. Talk about foreshadowing!)

An only child, her treasured spouse, and two generations of doll babies

I knew as a young child about the Christ-child coming as a baby. And I loved Him. I just didn't have a firm grasp of how everything fit together. Still, the scriptural seeds were planted and watered. One Christmas season they bore fruit.

When I was 14 years old my pastor took us to a retreat at Tennessee Temple University. It was there on the night of December 28th I trusted the baby born in Bethlehem as my Savior. (Oh, look! Today is my spiritual birthday!!!!!)

I saw the real treasure of Christmas was the truce offered to me by the Eternal Father! I laid down my arms. The battle was over. That is the image I see whenever I read Luke 2:14.

". . . peace, good will toward men."

The treasure offered is peace. Oh, how I needed it! Spiritual turmoil had been mine for several years. "Good will toward men." Toward me. The God of glory offered me His good will and I took Him at His Word. 

I'm so happy that God came in the flesh! From that night forward I have treasured the gift of the Son that came as a baby, lived a sinless life, died for me, and was resurrected three days later as the payment for my sins so I could experience eternal peace with the Father.

A few years passed. . .

I found myself in another Baptist college, this time as a student. It was there that I met the young man that was to be my husband. We began dating in mid-October and during that Christmas season in 1977 he told me that he loved me and hoped that we could be married sometime in the next year. If you paid any attention at all to the Yule Moon phenomenon last week you know that its last occurrence was in 1977. Now you know why Pastor Dad confessed his love for me when he did: He was moonstruck.  :)

Like all great marriages, ours has had its ups and downs, its joys (example: see picture above) and its heartaches, but since it is built upon a firm foundation of faith it has endured all hardships and celebrated all happy events with eternity in mind. I treasure the gift God gave me when he gave me my husband.

Thank you, God, for making me part of your family that Christmas season when I was 14 years old. Thank you, Pastor Dad, for promising to make me part of your family when I was 18 years old. As much as I loved Christmas when I was a child, these treasured relationships are why I cherish the season even more now. 

To My Favorite Moms

Happy Mother's Day 

to

my mom, my mother-in-law,

and my 3 daughters:

5 of the best mothers I know!

I love you and hope you have a wonderful day!

Both sets of grandparents with our 4 children;
Photo taken at The Bear's graduation party

Caring For Your Health and That of Your Loved Ones

It's the holiday season, a time when families gather to celebrate their blessings and to share meaningful moments together. Probably the last thing anyone wants to talk about (or listen to) is a rundown of someone's health issues. Well, as uncomfortable as it might be, American Recall Center has asked me to encourage everyone to take a few moments to discuss medications with their loved ones this holiday season.

Have you ever found yourself answering questions for a patient who is in no condition to answer for him/herself? If so, you know where we're coming from. The reason someone may not be able to answer for themselves could range from confusion as a result of a concussion to being suddenly incapacitated following a stroke. It is important that someone close to the individual knows exactly what medications the patient is taking, how much, and how often in order to get the person help without delay! And that includes any non-prescription pain killers and allergy medicines also! Drug interaction is a very real problem and so are drug allergies and hypersensitivity.

Here are a few questions to get the discussion started:

Once the conversation is under way it might be a good time to ask for the name and phone numbers of any doctors who prescribe or recommend these medicines. Many people have more than one doctor (general practitioner, specialist, etc.) and each has some aspect of the patient's health under his or her consideration. Sometimes one or more of them must be consulted by the hospital staff before adding to or changing a patient's regimen.

Another question that everyone who takes medicines needs to be asked:

Have you checked lately to see if there have been any recalls on the drugs you are taking or have in your medicine cabinet? (You can do this at the American Recall Center website.)

You might think that this discussion is unnecessary because so much of our medical information is computerized and the hospital automatically has access to all the data they need. 

Think again! 

A couple of years ago I found myself in the ER of a hospital that is affiliated with my doctor and his partners. Only some of my medical history was up-to-date. In fact, they lectured me about the importance of having routine cancer screenings done when those tests had been completed at the lab of that very hospital within the last couple of months! 

Earlier this autumn I began experiencing health issues so I made an appointment with my general practitioner. As I sat in the examination room he looked over my computerized file and casually mentioned a certain medication that had been prescribed to me during that ER visit two years earlier. My record showed that I was taking it daily when it had actually been prescribed on a "take as needed" basis and had never even been filled!

I am a newbie to the whole "take daily" prescription routine and it has been a trial and error exercise to find what works so I keep my husband informed which medicines I take whenever they are changed. Since there are a couple of prescriptions that I have filled in recent months it would be improbable for him to know that I only take one of them or at the very least to know which one of them! The rest are kept ready in case the doctor decides I need to add one back into the daily regimen.

So do yourself and everyone else a favor. This holiday season take a few moments away from the festivities to have an open discussion about medications with your loved ones. It only takes a few minutes but it could be the difference between triumph and tragedy in a medical emergency. It might even help your family enjoy many more happy holidays together!

Throwback Thursday: My "Change of Life"

There are changes in the works here on the hill so I have been re-reading old blog posts and updating a few things. A lot has changed in my life in 6 years, folks. A lot has changed.

I'm sure you could say the same.

I came across one of my first posts and decided to share it today. My son was 13 years old at the time. His dog, Pepper, was crazy. My son is 19 now and . . . well, Pepper is still crazy.

My "Change of Life" and No, It's Not What You Think!

I added a photo that was taken that summer to the post. It isn't the best quality but it is a minor miracle that I found it.

This one is more recent:

The Bear with some of his "support" system
and the photobombing Pepper! (August, 2013)

I hope you enjoy this look back to life On A High Hill from the autumn of 2008.

Our Kitchen Makeover

I have always wanted to makeover our little galley kitchen. Well, "always" meaning the 14+ years that we've lived here. We fully expected to make changes one day.

The kitchen had other plans. One day in February it said, "Today!"

That's when the bottom bank of cabinets collapsed. Collapsed! As in, the whole front had broken and the counter top was slanting toward the floor with all its contents balancing on tippy-toes to keep from plunging to the floor. It turns out that there were no "boxes" to our cabinets! Only a facade! The only reason the whole contraption stayed together for so long was because there were 3 drawers anchored to the back wall. Precariously. As in, 1 thin rail each and 2 screws each drawer. When those screws lost their foothold? Well, you can't fight gravity.

You know, I've had breakdowns in the kitchen - What to fix?, How many people are coming to dinner? Who ate all the ice cream?!!! - but this is the first time  - and, please Lord? Let it be the only time! - I've had a kitchen have a breakdown on me.

After rescuing the canisters and the Keurig, the cookie jar and the candle, we propped the whole contraption back up and called for help. Thankfully, Dan and Lisa were in town. "Hey! How would you like to go to Home Depot with us today?""

"Sure! We'll take the truck!"

Exactly what I had in mind. :)

There was a sale on stock cabinets and I had a gift card that I had received as a Christmas gift (yes, really) so we got out of there without spending too much money out of pocket. Praise the Lord!

We put the existing butcher block laminate counter top back on top of the new cabinets for the time being. Baby steps.

This, and the three drawers that bravely held it all together for the 30+ years of the house's existence was all there was to set out for the garbage:

The facade of our cabinets

Since we were not doing custom cabinets we put individual units side-by-side. Notice the boxes? I love them!  "Security!" they soothe. :)

Later we picked out counter tops from Menards and Pastor Dad installed them. Since this was an emergency project we didn't have the time to save up for granite or composite. Maybe someday. Maybe... For now, we went with a HD (high definition) laminate. (It was on sale, too.)

The next step was the sink, the garbage disposal, and the faucet. Then I began gluing tile to the wall. This time the back splash really is tile and not a painted facsimile. (See my post about the painted apple tile here.)

We added new lights, too. You can see the one over the sink in the picture below. The ceiling fixture is similar.

We kept the apple cookie jar. You probably know why. The apple pattern canisters are staying as well.

Notice in this picture that the sink holds dishes at various stages of washing. These days the sink always holds dishes at various stages. That's because the dishwasher decided to quit in March, about a week after I had braved one of the few cold but sunny, snow-free days to paint the front panel out on the back patio to match the rest of our appliances. If only it had died sooner I would have been spared the effort.

We'll replace the dishwasher soon. It just didn't meet the same urgency as the collapse of the bottom cabinets. ("Oh, it's just the dishwasher that broke. Pshaw!" Words I never thought I'd say after the luxury of having one for 14 years.)

A working view of the kitchen

A close up of the tile with bronze insets

We stained the bottom cabinets just. last. week. They aren't the color I had in mind but I can live with it. (As long as I stay away from Pinterest, that is. The bottom cabinets were supposed to be "light" just like the top ones are "dark" with the idea to continue the theme of the tile. Somewhere there is a salesman laughing at me.)  Someday we'll replace the upper cabinet DOORS ONLY and the facades to match the bottom ones and everything truly will be uniform once more. (Oh, please tell me that the top cabinets can't hear me! I don't want them to unexpectedly have problems, too!)

Cabinets, counter top, sink, faucet, and renegade dishwasher as well as surviving canisters and Keurig, cookie jar and candle

Here's a look at the room in the other direction. I tiled all the way across, from wall to wall. Just don't look too closely. There are places where it might look like I was too lazy to take down the radio and just stuck tiles behind it. Oh, wait! That's exactly what I did do!

To help tie everything together, meaning the old upper cabinets with new lower ones, we added matching knobs that mimic the copper and oil rubbed bronze of the faucet.  Since we haven't had knobs in all these years we joked that we might need to watch an instructional YouTube to learn how to use them. So far, so good. ;)

And that is how our kitchen came to unexpectedly have a whole new look.

* * *

P.S. We're still working on the peninsula cabinet and counter top. Once we get that finished (it hasn't been for a lack of trying) I'll show you what we did and how we did it. So far, it has been the most difficult part of the whole project and that's saying a lot!

Homemade Yogurt and Blueberry Sauce

There has been a lot of activity in our kitchen lately! Some of it has to do with the recent remodeling projects. (That's another post for another day.) Some of it has been experimenting with a simple way to make yogurt.

"Why?" you ask.

Two reasons:

1. We spend wa-a-a-a-ay too much money on yogurt at the grocery store. (The Bear and I can easily put away 3 cartons a day. Even with coupons and sales we spend at least $2.50 a day or $17.50 a week since he eats 2 cartons of Greek style and I eat at least 1 of whatever style we have available.
2. Neither one of us needs the additional bovine growth hormone that I fear might be in some of the yogurt we consume. He is a man. I am a post-menopausal woman. Enough said. The only ways I know to avoid this hormone are to buy only organic - which would be wa-a-a-a-ay more expensive than what I'm spending now - and I don't want to spend a lot of money on yogurt (see #1 above); or make it myself using non-hormone injected cow's milk. Uh, I choose the latter option.

After a bit of experimentation I have come upon a nice method for making it using equipment and supplies I already had on hand, unless you count the cheese cloth that I bought because I was out of it. Oh, and 1 carton of organic plain yogurt as my starter. (Bought on sale and with a coupon.)

My equipment: a large dutch oven for heating the milk and a pressure cooker/canner for incubating a batch. Also, 2 quart-size mason jars with lids, a funnel, a wooden spoon, cheesecloth, and a candy thermometer.

Steps for making yogurt:

• Pour 8 cups of milk into dutch oven. (That's 1/2 gallon of milk. No matter what price you pay for your milk this method will be a whole lot cheaper than buying 8 cups of yogurt!)
• Heat your milk to 180 degrees while stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Use a meat or candy thermometer for accurate measurement. My candy thermometer does a great job helping me make yogurt but it has never helped me make good candy! My holiday fudge always turns into a disaster. Or a nice fudge sauce. Depends on how you market your product. Which is why one of our family traditions includes celebrating Christmas with hot fudge sundaes. :)
• After the milk has reached the desired temperature it needs to be taken off the burner and allowed to cool until it reaches 110 degrees. If you let it sit too long just put it back on the heat until it reaches the desired 110 degree temperature.
• Stir 1/4 cup of cultured organic yogurt into your warm milk. I always use a wooden spoon when making ANYTHING that uses a starter (sourdough bread, friendship bread, etc.). It is probably an unnecessary precaution since the milk is heated in a stainless steel pan, but I do it anyway because somewhere in the back of my mind is the thought that metal kills live cultures. Not sure why that thought is there. Anyway. . .
• Using a clean funnel, pour the warm cultured milk into 2 clean mason jars. Place lids on them. These lids can be reused for each batch because you will not be sealing them to the jars.

• Place the jars on the rack in the pressure cooker/canner. As you can see, my canner holds 5 quarts but that would be a bit too much yogurt, even for The Bear and me. Actually, it would be a bit too much for my refrigerator. Now that I know how to make this quickly 2 quarts at a time is plenty.

• Place water in the canner so that the level is about 1/2 way up the sides of the jars. Heat the water until it reaches 110 degrees. Then turn off the stove.
• Once the proper temperature is reached, put the lid on the pressure cooker but DO NOT add the pressure gauge. The idea is to keep the cultured milk incubating, not cooking!
• Open the pressure cooker every 2 or 3 hours to check on the temperature of the water. If it feels too cool turn the stove on "low" for a short time. DO NOT ALLOW THE WATER TEMPERATURE TO RISE TOO HIGH! If you do, it will kill your cultures. Ask me how I know.
• Go to bed. Really. I start my yogurt about mid-afternoon and I check the water temperature two or three times, the last time being right before I retire for the night.
• Wake up to 2 jars of fresh, creamy yogurt!
• I always take out 1/4 cup of cultured yogurt and place it in a separate container in the refrigerator before I do anything else. This is the starter for the next batch.

Strain some of your yogurt using cheese cloth to make Greek style. The Bear likes the thicker curds of this style of yogurt. I'm not particular. 

Use the milky liquid, the whey, that results from the straining in place of buttermilk in pancake or biscuit recipes. It makes them light and fluffy!

Stir spoonfuls of homemade jam and jelly into your individual yogurt servings. I use strawberry jam, peach jam, and apple jelly. Since The Bear and I are partial to blueberry flavored yogurt I make blueberry sauce and keep it in the refrigerator near the yogurt. (Recipe below!)

Blueberry Sauce

This blueberry sauce is adapted from the Blueberry Pie Deluxe recipe found in The Backyard Homestead by Carleen Madigan. (The whole pie is excellent, too!)

Ingredients:
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 Tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 cups fresh or thawed blueberries
1/4 cup water
1 Tablespoon butter
1 Tablespoon lemon juice

Directions:
Combine the sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a medium saucepan. Add the blueberries and water. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until the mixture boils, thickens, and clears. Remove from heat. Stir in the butter and the lemon juice. Cool. Then refrigerate.

Place about 2 Tablespoons of the filling on top of your regular or Greek homemade yogurt. Delicious!

Help Launch "Polly's" Game! Plus a Giveaway Announcement!

Readers of this blog know my oldest granddaughter by her blog nickname of Polly. Well, "Polly" is almost a teenager now --cringe-- and a game designer. She is also a homeschooled girl who has been taught the free enterprise system and that money is supposed to be earned. She has dipped her toes into the free enterprise system and now a game company wants to help her earn more for her hard work.

Last year I requested your help in launching my son-in-law's newest game that was in production. NOW I'm asking for your help funding his daughter, Isabel's game, TIGER STRIPES.

Isabel designed and originally self-published her game. I even gave one of them away during the summer of 2012! Now her game needs backers during the Kickstarter stage before it can find its way into production. If this game goes into production I will give one of the professionally produced ones away here in the future.

To help get things well past the hump and speedily at full-funding, her daddy, Philip, is having a contest over at his blog. Philip has 4 games that have been published, including the very popular Revolution! board game. Now is your chance to get one of his 4 titles for free and help his daughter at the same time. Click on over there and check out the ways you can enter to win!

"Polly's" Gram thanks you. Happy hunting!

From Fear to Faith: A Personal Testimony

I have been open about my private physical health problem so let me be just as frank about a private spiritual health problem I recently experienced. This may not be the kind of thing you would expect a pastor's wife to write - after all, aren't we supposed to be super-spiritual or something? - but what follows is true and from my heart.

* * *

One day toward the end of June I was sitting here at the computer typing a Bible Journal entry for the daily blog post.

"You know that this is all an exercise in futility. God is not real and the Bible is fake."

That's the thought that crossed my mind. I immediately stopped, prayed, and tried to dismiss it but it troubled me far longer than I thought possible! I've been a faithful follower of Jesus Christ for almost 40 years now. Recently I had even completed 27 years of providing my children a Christian education through homeschooling. Once that was completed I had turned my focus to personal ministry. After much prayerful consideration, and with Pastor Dad's blessing, I had begun investing additional time and money into helping people with their needs. Specifically, this was to be centered on the following 3 groups of people that God says cannot be expected to repay their benefactor:

• widows
• orphans (or those who are unwanted, or unborn, or from broken homes: all of whom can be similar to orphans)
• foreigners.

You know, those people that God told the Israelites to help when He had Moses write the Pentateuch.

Alumni and Faculty of Karabeth Baptist Homeschool, a division of Gateway Christian Schools, Memphis, TN

Things had been going well. At least they had been until that awful, frightening thought took up residence in my mind ...

A few nights later I had a terrifying nightmare! I had another a few weeks later. Those dreams made me not want to sleep for fear of having another. I began to doubt my salvation and this was not the first time. But when I was a child and doubted it was because I wondered if I had understood, or repented, or trusted Christ, or {fill in the blank}. This was different. This was "There is no God no matter what you believe."  I cannot conceive of a more hopeless thought!

Scriptures tell us that only fools say there is no God, that Jesus is God in the flesh who defeated spiritual and physical death for us, and that if there is no resurrection we are of all men most miserable. That pretty much summarizes my situation. I felt like a miserable fool. Things stayed that way for several weeks but I carried on as well as I could, including typing blog posts despite the troubling thought in my head. My life, and the rest of the summer went on in its course. (That was chronicled in a previous happier post.)

* * *

Then on July 19th I received the following excerpted email from a church friend. It was so timely and so appreciated. 

Just been thinking about you and the Pastor all week....especially yesterday and today.
Mrs. _____ told us that when someone comes to mind and you don't know
why, to just pray for them.

When I read this email I sunk to the floor and cried.  Someone was praying for us! For me!  God, if there truly is a God, had put me on this woman's mind. (She would later tell me that God awoke her in the night several times that week and that was when she prayed.)

Once I regained some composure I typed this reply:

Thank you for your prayers. Mrs. _____ was right. We need them! It has been a very stressful week.

Personally, I have been struggling with doubts. That's probably not the kind of thing you want to hear from your pastor's wife, but it is true. On top of everything else he has had to deal with lately your pastor has had to hold his frightened wife and calmly tell her that the God we say we love and worship really does exist.

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH and yet I am struggling with it. I have been very open about this with my husband and he has been very patient with me. He thinks that my Bible Journal that I post daily on my blog has earned me oppression and perhaps he is right. It had been my best year of personal Bible study so far and I had been devouring scripture like a starving person grabs food. Then the doubtful thoughts began sweeping over me and I panicked.

I'm still devouring scripture, though, and believe God will make Himself known to me. In fact, I find the thought that He told you to pray for us very comforting. Thank you for telling me.

Her response was simple but profound:

I love you and I want you to know that I never thought you were more than human. 

Okay, we all know I'm only human, but it was comforting to know that others do not hold me to a higher standard than other humans. Evidently ministerial family members do experience doubts and there are spiritual people who pray for them!

I later remembered that being human is what Jesus coming to earth was all about! Yes, He is 100% God but He is also 100% man (and no, I cannot explain this). It is because He is human that He could experience everything we do yet remain sinless and that makes it possible for Him to be our Savior.

* * *

The very next morning, July 20th, I picked up Lisa and Roman at the airport. As I looked at the smile on the face of that happy little cherub in the stroller my heart was pounding. I love that little guy! I do not want to lead him astray! We raised his mommy and her siblings to have faith in Jesus Christ and Him alone as their mediator between their sinful selves and the holy God. It is the same faith that we are presenting to our grandchildren. What if we had misled our children all those years and were continuing to do so? I must find the TRUTH before it is too late! After all, being sincere in a faith isn't enough. It is obvious that many sincere people are sincerely wrong since all views of faith cannot be right. They are mutually exclusive.

* * *

Besides my babysitting responsibilities at church camp I had also been planning to be a counselor. Given what I was going through then it did not seem prudent for me to lead a group of teen-aged girls in spiritual reflection. I attempted to talk to our teen camp director's wife Sunday morning, July 21st, to tell her that I was not going to be able to be a counselor but that didn't work out. I took my place in the choir and tried to get through the song service but that didn't work either. I left the auditorium in tears while we were singing a hymn. I later found myself sobbing in the arms of my surprised pastor-husband during the closing hymn. He asked the congregation to pray for me, as one God-awakened/email-sending member and he himself were already doing. (In the 4 weeks since that service I have had numerous people tell me that God has been awakening them at night and they pray for me. I haven't had any more nightmares so perhaps their intervention - and lack of sleep - has helped me rest.) Telling our congregation about my fear was one of the most humbling things I have ever had to do and yet it was the key to recovery.

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.  James 5:16 

The next day was our 35th wedding anniversary as well as the first day of camp. It is not unusual for those two things to coincide and actually seems fitting since we have been ministering together since the days we took our vows. But my spiritual peace did not return to me overnight and so instead of being a counselor I worked as support staff which gave me more time to read, study, and pray. It was time well-spent toward examining the Bible, other belief systems, and my own heart.

* * *

I later spoke with my friend, the email buddy, about the things that had been troubling me, one of which is what happens when we die. What if I am wrong about death and there is no God, no Jesus, no Heaven? This wise woman told me that what I am seeking is dying grace and I won't need it until I am dying. Right now I only need the kind of grace necessary to live day by day. It is one thing to make sure that one is on the right path, and indeed, it is what I and my husband have dedicated our lives to help people find, but it is another to fear death.

She was right! It is grace for today that I need and God will take care of all my tomorrows. 

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. (Matthew 6:34)

If you want me to tell you how I reached my conclusions about God and the Bible I will be glad to do so, but not now. Since most of my readers are believers you may know the path I wandered. My starting point was this: If God is real, then I am a Christian because I believe Jesus paid for my sins. With that in mind, and the prayer, "Lord, help thou my unbelief" I began my research.  And once again I was able to experience the joy of my salvation! The fear is gone and faith has taken its place!

Pastor Dad and I with the 8 blessings that call us "Grandad" and "Gram." We are determined that each of these precious youngsters hear over and over again about the living God who loves them, sent His Son to pay for their sins if they will repent and believe, and desires to live with them throughout eternity! 

What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? 32 He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things? 33 Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. 34 Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 36 As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. 37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. 38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, 39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:31-39 

Summer 2013 Wrap-up

Our 2013 Graduate

Many of the students in our area are heading back to school. Even the homeschooling families are sending in their notifications of intent and making final adjustments to the curriculum. Not I. For the first time in many years, I am not preparing for a new homeschool year.

When our oldest graduated in June, 1999 our youngest was not even ready to begin kindergarten the following autumn. But in June, 2013 The Bear graduated from high school. It took 27 years for us to home educate all 4 of our children from kindergarten through twelfth grade but we did it! 14 years is a long span of time between oldest to youngest siblings, but I am glad for it because it means that I have had at least one of my offspring with me for the past 32 years. And we are still not empty-nesters! The Bear will attend a local college this fall and will live at home. But while he is making preparations to go back to school in a few days, his mother - for once - is not.



After all the paperwork had been filed for The Bear's diploma (I STRONGLY recommend an umbrella school during the high school years because it makes dealing with colleges and employers so much less of a hassle!) we turned our attention to other endeavors. Our church had a wonderful Vacation Bible School week in June in which we were active workers and participants. This is always a MAJOR event for our congregation and we love it!

Then Pastor Dad and I began some much-needed work on our house and lawn. We watched it rain on our lawn and gardens, which helped water all the new plants and some of the lawn reseeding. (It has been a rainy summer.) We have also enjoyed the slightly cooler-than-usual temperatures this year. We even stood in the rain with umbrellas over our heads while watching the grandchildren swim on the 4th of July in my dad's pool. And as usual, we celebrated birthdays with several of our loved ones. Oh, my! It has been a wonderful, busy summer!

A couple of weeks ago we had the privilege of picking up Lisa and Roman at the airport. Lisa had agreed to work as a counselor at our church camp as long as someone (uh, that would be me: no arm-twisting necessary!) watched Roman. Since Karen and Philip are directors of our junior camp I also took care of their newest little one.

Gram with her baby grandsons

The boys riding around the campground in style

The 6-month-old Roman and the 3-month-old "Baby Boy" were introduced to each other before we headed to camp. (I think their moms just wanted to know if I could handle two infants at the same time. Ha! Ha!) The boys played together on the floor. Three months can make a big difference at such young ages. Roman picked up Baby Boy's foot as if to show him his toes. If he could talk he looked like he would be saying to his cousin, "See these, dude? You're gonna love them! They're great to suck on whenever you misplace your pacifier!"

After camp, Dan flew into town to join the family. A few days later several of us attended a Red's game. The game itself wasn't much to see, (We lost to the Cards. Boo!) but we had fun in the stands. Our pictures even flashed across the scoreboard briefly as the cameras panned the audience while playing the song "Pretty Woman" (obviously they were highlighting our beautiful daughter, The Princess, but we got to photo bomb).  Pastor Dad said he was glad they didn't show us during the "Kiss Cam" because he and I had several people between us. I had to agree because if either of us had been required to kiss Fen or Diamond Girl right after they ate sticky cotton candy I'm afraid we would have been permanently bonded.  :)

This past Sunday we celebrated The Bear's graduation with an Open House. He had asked that we wait to officially celebrate when Dan, Lisa, and Roman could be in town. Sounded like a good idea to me!

Several pictures were taken at the event.  This one is of our 4 children and their grandparents. Pastor Dad's parents are on the left and mine are on the right in the photo.

The Bear is the youngest grandchild on both sides of the family so all the grandparents have only adult grandchildren now.

Pastor Dad and I were added for this 3 generation portrait.

And finally, here is one of The Bear being supported by his sisters and brothers-in-law, the "siblings" who helped raise him and added much-needed support through the years.

That's Pepper photo-bombing. That dog! ~sigh~ (I guess she thinks she helped raise him, too.)

In Honor of The Bear's Birthday

This is a picture taken just a few weeks ago of me and my youngest child.

Easter, 2013

I'm wearing heels. He isn't. He is not extraordinarily tall, but many of you probably remember pictures of him where the top of his head did not even reach my shoulder.

That seems like yesterday.

Today is his birthday! He turns 18 years old.

I can hardly believe it!

I have been blogging for 4 1/2 years and in that time I have documented growth spurts which were evident by excessive amounts of groceries disappearing almost as quickly as they came in the door (which still happens sometimes), the change of his voice - and those of his friends - marked by awkward high pitched squeals as they transitioned from treble to bass cleft, several taekwondo achievements - including earning his black belt - that helped him learn individual goal setting and accomplishment, basketball that caused us to travel great distances for the thrill of watching him engage in a team sport, our high school years of homeschooling (which are coming to an end later this spring), and teaching him how to drive a car.

Oh, my!!!!!!!

Though the youngest of four children, he has enjoyed the best of both worlds: he has siblings, but in the last few years he has been the only child at home. In order to keep him from being totally spoiled rotten by his three doting older sisters, the Lord gave each of them children of their own to divert some of their mothering tendencies. This has worked. A little. He certainly hasn't suffered from lack of attention from them at any time!

The Bear became an uncle at the ripe old age of 6 1/2. For awhile he was a unique volume bracketed between bookends consisting of 3 girls on each side. On one end were his 3 sisters. On the other, his 3 nieces who were actually closer in age to him than those sisters. Now he is uncle to 5 girls and 3 boys (the newest is a newborn). As such, it is not unusual to hear him arguing discussing with someone from the upper tier of  nieces/nephew or see him carrying (without anyone asking him to do so) one of the nieces/nephews in the lower tier.

The Bear was a child I prayed for by name. I knew, or thought I did, before God ever put him in my womb that He had put him in my heart. And unless I misunderstood the will of God, which would have been evident if the idea of our son had never come to fruition, I knew this child would be a welcome addition to our family. I praise God for answering in the way He did.

Son, I know you do not read blogs (and I am okay with that) so you may never read here how much of a gift we - Dad and I - think you are or just how much I have enjoyed almost every minute of raising you to adulthood. (Let's be honest. There have been a few moments that I would not care to repeat, but we won't go into those. {Grin}) And I know as an introvert this blog post will cause you acute embarrassment if you actually do read it, but I am willing to chance it because this has become a scriptural and family journal blog and so I just could not let today pass without publicly proclaiming how the Lord blessed us by giving us you or without wishing you a very blessed transition into adulthood.

With my continued love and prayers,

Mom

18 years ago today

Buy. This. Game. NOW! Please?

At the beginning of this year I mentioned that my son-in-law has a new game in production. (See here if you wish to read the announcement from a mother-in-law's point of view.)

Well, he needs your help getting it produced. Unlike his other games, this one is a family style game. (His others are popular with serious gamers.)

So go on over here to read about the kickstarter. Then follow his links and help get this game into production. I REALLY want to play this one.

And thank you very much!  :)

Looking Back at the Birthdays

A couple of weeks ago we celebrated the birthdays of 2 granddaughters, sisters that share a birthday week. That would be Miss Tigger and Little Lili Ladybug. It really was Lili's birthday that day, her second.

To honor Lili on her special day, her two oldest sisters composed a poem in her honor. I neglected to get a copy of the poem but there was an illustration to accompany it, as you can clearly see below.

Polly and Tigger reciting

Two girls opening gifts can make for a lot of excitement (and gift wrapping paper!).

Sometimes one of the gift-givers suffers from separation anxiety.  :)

Hey, Mom, did you mean to give this away?

The birthday girls blowing out the candles on their respective birthday cakes.

I include this photo for Mem and Pop. This is what we saw when you called.  :)

I hope she didn't get blue icing on the telephone!

Don't you just want to kiss that sweet little face? Well, maybe after it is washed. 

Big sister, Tiggeriffic, enjoying her birthday treats, too. I think Miss Tigger ended up having a"Birthday Week," which is not a bad way for an eight-year-old to celebrate, right?

Blind Love and Blessings: Excerpts From My Journal

The author's private journal
Victorian Journals
Brownlow Publishing Co., Inc.

Before I blogged, I kept a journal. Like my blogging, my journaling was sporadic because I wrote only when the mood struck, which wasn't on a regular basis.

I am going to share appropriate excerpts from the above journal that detail a personal comparison I made concerning my own situation and that of someone I love. Her name has been changed to Jane (as in "Jane Doe") in order to protect privacy, but her identity will be recognizable to many.

November 15, 1997
. . . After being wigless for 13 months, it has been an adjustment these last 2 days. Actually my hair loss is not as bad this time as it was during my previous episode, but I could tell my wig-free days were numbered. At least I'm getting used to this by degrees.

I'm ashamed of my own vanity when I think about Jane's cancer surgery in 2 days. She has already lost her nose. Now she will lose her left eye, half her palate and teeth. . .

Lord, spare Jane. And thanks for the wig.
 

Fast forward a couple of years:

August 30, 1999
I'm still wearing a wig even though I have run the gamut from losing almost all of my hair to gaining back as much as I had. . . I've learned to compensate for activities I enjoy.

As for Jane, she is still fighting cancer with prayers, radiation, chemotherapy, and a great attitude. . . It has been a hard year for Jane.
 

The next entry that I'll share has this verse inscribed at the top of the page: The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy. PSALM 126:3.

Beneath it I wrote the following:

August 18, 2000
It is with tears in my eyes and in my heart that I read the verse above (blog note: I had underlined the word "joy" in the verse at the top of the page). Jane went to be with the Lord last night and I am trying desperately to feel the joy. I know she has joy, and here at the end I've prayed for God to take her quickly so that she wouldn't have to suffer any more.

The entry goes on to say that August had always had it's share of joy but especially it's share of sorrow as my family had buried my maternal grandma, my uncle, and now Jane in various years. Having been just a year older than I, in childhood Jane was my playmate and companion. In adulthood she was my friend and confident. As adults, Jane and I lived many miles apart but we corresponded regularly. We remained close enough friends that in early 1999 Pastor Dad drove The Bear and me the 8 hours that it took to reach her bedside after one of her surgeries. I was concerned about how the preschool-aged Bear would react to her irregular appearance but she was so joyful that he was quickly sitting on her lap!

Here is another part of that same l-o-n-g August 18, 2000 entry, 6 pages actually, where I poured out my heart:

. . . I have several emails from Jane, the last one sent on July 4th wishing us all a great day. I got to see her at Christmas and encourage her. We even sent emails back and forth where I shared my "hair secrets" with her since she was feeling rotten about wearing a wig [after losing] her hair to chemo.
 

Did you catch that? My dear cousin, who had lost an eye, her nose, and part of her palate to cancer had been mortified when her hair fell out! Even more astonishing was that I was able to encourage her! It was then that I began to realize just how devastating hair loss is for all women, even those who have had their appearance altered in other ways or were fighting life-threatening illnesses.

In years to come the Lord would put me in contact with several women suffering hair loss who needed encouragement. All, including Jane, responded with the words, "I had no idea you have this problem, too!" when I empathized with them by sharing details of my own illness, one that paled in comparison to what some of them faced.

It is interesting how the Lord placed these ladies in my path and what He used to get the conversations started. I was never the one to broach the subject but at various times and in odd places (at the craft store, for example) an acquaintance would reveal that she had just left the wig shop, or shopping for a hat, or the beauty salon, and her story would erupt like the sodium bicarbonate - vinegar mixture that explodes out of elementary science experiments. As private as each woman wished to remain, each needed to release the emotion by talking to someone and the Lord somehow arranged a meeting between us.

I will not share their stories, but like Jane, some of them now experience great joy because their journeys have ended. Others are still on their pilgrimage but with the knowledge that they are not alone. Not only does the Lord share their sorrow but I and others like me are blessed to help bear their burdens.

Part of the bearing of each other's burdens has been sharing information and tips. In the future I hope to tell what I do to help compensate each day or in special circumstance as per the above referenced journal entry. For now, I will close with the quote that is at the bottom of that six-page entry, one that complements well the verse that began it.

Be a life long or short, its completeness

depends on what it was lived for.

DAVID STARR JORDAN

Hearing A Voice

source

The Voice of A Loved One

“Hi! I just called to . . .” This is the way several of the people I love start their phone conversations. I know which loved one it is by his or her voice.

Until several years ago when Pastor Dad served on a sequestered jury we had never gone a day without hearing each other’s voice even when separated by many miles. Comfort is found in hearing a loved one’s voice and it goes beyond what text messages or emails provide. Hearing a voice gives even distant relationships a certain in-the-same-room quality.

My sister-in-law was telling me recently that she is so thankful to have recordings of her husband’s voice. She needs the peace that comes from hearing the familiar tone and intonations of her beloved who is waiting for her in eternity.

I understand that need. I remember as a child my grief when I realized that I could no longer remember the sound of my grandpa’s voice. I wish we had recorded it but back then we were just impressed to be able to make home movies, a major technological advance over still photos! Sound recorders were tape machines that were bigger than the speakers that hang from most church auditoriums and most people did not have access to them.

Obviously, hearing the voice of someone we love is comforting because of the relationship between the speaker and the hearer. Some voices are just music to our ears, as the cliché says.

The scriptures tell us that Jesus’ sheep hear his voice and follow him. We don’t hear him audibly like John, the beloved apostle did, but we hear by reading His words. By doing so we are able to discern direction for our lives, both for this temporal one and the eternal one to come.

The Voice of an Imitator

Sometimes our hearing is faulty. In a world of constant noise and confusion it is often difficult to tell if the voice we hear is that of our Shepherd. There are also some good imitations out there.

As I recently watched a cartoon movie with my grandson I was certain that I knew the voice behind one of the characters. I was surprised to see another name listed in the credits. I had others watch and then quizzed them on the identity of the voice. Their guesses were the same as mine. We were all fooled.

Our children tell a story about when Philip would call our house and mistakenly think he was talking to Karen. It wasn’t until Lisa gave herself away by laughing that he knew that the voice on the other end of the line was not that of his fiancée.

As Christians we can also be fooled by voices that sound almost identical to our beloved Shepherd’s. Satan provides an almost exact imitation in order to confuse the sheep. He tried the same trick by twisting scripture ever so slightly with the Shepherd Himself during the wilderness temptation. But the Word that became flesh and dwelt among men was not fooled and neither will we be if we search the scriptures like the believers in Berea did to determine what they really say.

Read your Bible daily. It is how the Shepherd talks to His sheep. Only by being familiar with God’s Word will the sheep be able to recognize His voice. Christians who study their Bible might still be fooled by a fake voice sometimes but the voice of the Shepherd will soon be heard calling over the sound of mayhem if their hearing is checked by the Word.

Those Without Ears to Hear

If you call yourself a Christian you might want to check to be sure you are interested in hearing what the Shepherd has to say. Are you interested in reading the Bible, God’s Word? If not perhaps Jesus is not your shepherd after and you have no ears to hear. When you really love someone you will want to hear his or her voice as much as possible.

Blind Love and Blessings: Meeting the Enemy Head-on

The parents checked the baby’s breathing as she lay in her crib. That would not be unusual except that this was not their first child and she was not a newborn. While they watched they thought of the last couple of years: how they’d been told they’d probably never be able to have more children, then the surprise when they discovered within a month that they were expecting their third child. They also remembered the difficult pregnancy which was followed by an even more difficult childbirth. Those troubles seemed minuscule compared to the concern that now gripped them.

The baby had endured much recent illness. Aside from eczema that always seemed to mar her skin she had also been marked by chicken pox. In the last week her daddy and oldest sister were the only people in the household who did not catch it, one having had the childhood illness many years earlier, and the other just the month before. Now she, her older sister, and her mother were almost past the days of quarantine.

As the intense itching passed, all three seemed to be regaining their health. Recovery had been sufficient to return daily life to a normal routine. For the baby who was tired of lying on the couch near people who insisted on keeping her from scratching whatever itched this meant cruising around furniture and emptying toy boxes. And it was pleasant to be well enough to traverse the hallway from one end to the other again.

This routine did not last long. Within days the little one’s fever returned and brought with it a peculiar way of crawling using only one hand. Her family commented that she looked like a wounded bird holding up a wing.

The family consulted their pediatrician. Because of the chance of contagion they entered his office through the back door. After enduring strategic shuttling between doctor's office and hospital designed to minimize the risk of exposure to others, as well as several hours of x-rays and examinations, nothing noteworthy was found. The puzzled doctor applied an elastic bandage to the baby's arm because he concluded the baby had hurt her wrist.

This was a mistake! When the baby awoke from her afternoon nap the mother noticed that her young hand was swollen to such extreme proportions that it was almost as large as her own! She quickly removed the wrap.

The next morning it was clear that the baby’s health was suffering. She no longer had the energy to play and was fretful. For the second day in a row they sought medical care. The on-call doctor found a puncture wound within the fold of skin between the child’s thumb and index finger that was masked by eczema and chicken pox scabs. It was a spider bite.

Since the skin surrounding the bite did not appear to be dying the doctor believed that it was not caused by a brown recluse but announced that the situation was serious nonetheless. The child’s size, the amount of time that had elapsed between bite and diagnosis, and the recent battle with chicken pox had all hampered her body's ability to fight the toxins.

With prescriptions in hand and instructions drumming inside their stunned brains, the parents took their child home. They understood that they were to take the child to the nearest hospital if her health further declined however slight that change might be. Thus they began their bedside vigil.

The next morning the sun shone brightly through the bedroom window on parents napping beside the bed of their beloved child. The baby awoke with a lower body temperature, a praiseworthy event that again ushered in normal, routine days.

Or rather, that is how it appeared. A few weeks later when all the chicken pox scabs had fallen from their bodies the mother discovered that along with scabs her hair had fallen out leaving several nickel-sized patches of bare skin on her head. So began what would become the new kind of “normal, routine days” for this family.

This flashback is about the illnesses that The Princess and I battled at the age of 10 months and 29 year respectively. Although it would be a few months before I received the medical diagnosis that these events had triggered an autoimmune system disorder known as alopecia areata and 6 ½ years before I became sufficiently disfigured to seek prosthetic help, this is the story of how and when it attacked.


I wrote this true story from the third person perspective purely for a psychological reason: it was easier to write about these painful events by inserting a buffer, however small, between myself and the story by making myself an observer. Even after all these years, that night beside our baby's bed still upsets me.

At a later time my husband will also discuss this chapter in our lives at his blog, Exception Noted.