2011... a year of JOY, ADVENTURE, and FAITH

We can truly say...that NEVER ONCE have we ever been alone, God has been faithful at every step.

The Gift of Silence

This Christmas we headed out to the family ranch to enjoy the quiet and each other.  The day after Christmas Paul and I took a couple of walks up into the pasture.  On the second walk, we kept walking and walking until we got to this place where you could see for miles and the silence was piercing.  I just kept looking at the hills and breathing in deeply.  The sights and the lack of sound awakened my heart.

We decided to take the kids up there the next day, I wanted to share my experience with them. So everyone got bundled up and of course, there is groaning, I don't want to go, why do we have to walk, it will be boring, why, why why.  So Paul says, there is surprise up there for you.  Now they are willing to go....

We get up to the stock tank and they say, "What is the surprise?".  Paul answers, "The Gift of Silence."  Cue the groans, this sounded like the boringest thing ever.  But slowly the silence began to work its way into their souls.  They let down their guard and they started find rest in the silence.

On the way back to the house, Benji grabbed my hand and started sharing his heart with me and then Malaki grabbed Paul and I's hands and started talking and then Mika.  It was this one perfect moment on the way down the hill.

It opened the door for them to find rest.  When we got back to the house, naps were had, games were played, and stories were told.

I'm learning that that rest and silence is a gift we can give to each other.  Its also something we can with-hold from each other.  I long for rest and silence and I think that deep down all of our souls long for rest and silence.  This new year will bring lots of opportunities for us to give the gift of rest and silence to each other and I think we might learn something new about who we are and who God is.

Making Space for my Soul

I was at a lunch gathering of a bunch of women in the district of churches we belonged to when a question was thrown out to a couple of us, "How do you make space for your soul to breathe?"  This question hit me head on and even made me angry.  Its a really benign question on the surface but deep down it hit a nerve, it hit this place where I consistently struggle.  I was frustrated because I was already frazzled, I had done school with my kids at Panera (always an experience), I was already planning towards the weekend, I needed to pack for a retreat, drop my cousin at the airport in Denver come back, clean the basement we live in so people could stay at mom's for Thanksgiving and then head to Rapid City for Thanksgiving and I was sick.  There are certain areas in my life that I don't seem to be capable of honesty, I don't seem to be able to say this is too much, I don't seem to be capable of saying I'm tired, I just get grumpier and angrier and punish everyone who I won't say no to.  I'm pretty sure its a super healthy way of handling life.

Even in the midst of this frazzledness I have this question burning into my heart, how do I make room?  This conversation explodes inside my head and I'm sorta scared that the rest of the world can hear what my heart is saying.   I started with answers, that weren't really answers to the question.  It was like a really hard question on an essay exam, where you start by working around the problem until you can work yourself into the core of the problem.  My answers were, I like reading, it feeds my soul, I should read more.  I like working out, I should work out more.  I like cooking, I should cook more.  I hope you are laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, I hope you caught on right away, that I was just creating another list to fulfill, only this list was supposed to bring me rest.  The dilemma is that I never find rest in lists.

I spent the entire month of December trying to figure this out, how was I going to make space for my soul to breathe, to find rest.  I had to start the process by asking myself if I even thought it was important enough to make a priority.  That was the easy question, I know that when my soul isn't finding rest, when its not being fed, when its going from activity to activity that I implode.  I get sick, I get crabby and I start crying over everything.  I have to make space.  But how and am I really willing to say "no", to be honest, to admit that I am a weak human who needs space, to say that I trust God enough to know that he can accomplish his plans without me always being the go to girl.  And coming to a place of a deep knowledge that he loves me because of who I am, not because of what I do.

One of these days I will find a rhythm to making space, to leaving room for my soul to be fed.  Right now, its something like a baby learning to walk, stand up, fall down, stand up , walk two steps, fall down.  Its not smooth, its not graceful and I keep falling down.  But I believe that if pursue this rhythm I will soon be running an dancing gracefully.  And I believe that my heavenly father is watching me, delighting in my first steps, because He knows the path that I am on and where this journey will take me.

Waiting

December is this time when we are reminded to wait.  It is the season of advent, the season to be reminded of the waiting that occurred 2000 years ago.  The Jewish nation had waited for a Redeemer for centuries and Mary waited for 9 months for a baby.  We begin to practice waiting four Sundays before Christmas and call it advent.  For our family, the Advent season has begun to take on more and more meaning.  Each year we add or modify our tradition until it feels like maybe it is unique to us.  These traditions have become more important to me than our Christmas traditions.  I always end up wishing they could last all year, but then they wouldn't be special.

Advent for us means extra time as a family and more saying "no".  This is hard this time of year when there is a Christmas party around every corner, but when it comes down to it I want my kids to remember, reading, hot chocolate, putting together a puzzle, playing at the library, not extra time spent with a sitter while mom and dad go to parties.

The foundation of our Advent season is reading.  Paul and I are reading Behold the Lamb of God by Russ Ramsey.  The goal is not necessarily for us to talk about it together, but rather to direct our hearts in the same direction.  At night before bed we are reading Tabitha's Travels by Arnold Ytreeide.  This is the third book in a trilogy about children who happened upon the birth of Jesus as well as different individuals who a part of the birth.  We have read all three and had read the first one three years in a row.  It has been great to find the space and commit to reflecting on the birth of our Savior each evening.

Another favorite of the Advent season is our puzzle.  We started this last year.  I divide up the puzzle pieces for each day and each morning they get to open a bag.  The kids can't wait to get up and do their puzzle.  Its like Christmas morning every morning.  We try to keep the picture hidden so the kids can practice waiting.  This year the boys figured it out the third day.

Our newest activity this year is the Lego Advent Calender.  I don't have a good reason for this, except the kids love Legos and it looked super fun.  They are loving watching the city expand and grow.

Advent is all about waiting and the anticipation that erupts with the waiting.  Its about seeing a million small pieces come together into one big picture, a big picture where a Savior leaves his throne in heaven to enter our mess here on earth.  This is what we remember, this is what brings us hope and a willingness to live well in anticipation of the day when he comes again.

I am resolved....

I am resolved to experience JOY.... to not let my circumstances affect my disposition.... to not let my kids, husband, friends, family, money, car...change how I walk through this world.  Doesn't this sound nice, super Christian... sounds like a great Facebook status that would get a lot of "like" hits.  Its a great mantra.

BUT here is the problem, it sort of sounds like there is a lot of me in this statement, there is a lot of me getting it done (I do live in the cowboy state where we know how to "get 'er done").  I started out yesterday saying this mantra and failing and saying it and failing and saying it and failing.  I wanted to be resolved, but here is the thing, JOY doesn't come from inside me.  Does it come from inside you?  JOY, spiritual JOY, the kind that conquers all the things in my life only comes from one place, the HOLY SPIRIT.  It is one of the fruits of the Spirit. "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" - Galatians 5:22

And so once again, I'm pondering this fruit of the Spirit thing.  The fruit on an apple tree, is not the tree, nor can it control the tree, nor can it appear on its own, it comes from the tree and only a healthy tree rooted in the ground and receiving water can produce an apple.  One doesn't often find an apple tree with a peach hanging off it or an orange (especially not an orange, they need two different climates), apple trees only grow apples.  Have you ever walked by a house with fake flowers in the garden, I especially love that when it started snowing in the fall and you see these fake tulips peeking through, somebody should have told the owner that tulips only grow in the spring, mums would have kept the charade going longer.  The thing about fruit and flowers is they are a part of a plant and they don't just appear on their own.

The fruit of the Spirit is much the same way.  I can't will myself to have the fruit.  I can't be resolved to have the fruit.  I have to resolve to be connected to the plant.  I can't beat myself up for not experiencing JOY, but I can ask myself "did I run to the feet of Jesus?

This is how my last couple of days have played out since I became resolved to experience JOY, I didn't  sleep great, actually I slept great until about 5am and then didn't realize we hadn't changed the clock in our room, so I spent 45 minutes trying to convince myself to get out of bed, when my husband told me the clock wasn't changed in our room :) but I was resolved! I walked up the stairs and was told the refrigerator was not working, but I was resolved!  I made the necessary calls and moved on.  My son woke up not feeling well, but I was resolved!  My son threw a fit over math, my resolve is weakening!  School is taking longer than I planned, my resolve is definitely weakened!  I'm suddenly very tired and now my resolve is gone.  And then I come to this place....

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

So.... I am resolved to rest in the grace of my Savior, to walk where He leads me, to call on the power of the Spirit and to never manufacture fake fruit, and to watch genuine JOY grow on my branches.

My Tree

I wrote this little paragraph awhile ago... when I had a tree to sit under.  But I keep rereading it because it is such a great reminder of where I've been and where I"m going.

I love the shade under my tree.  I love its canopy of leaves, the rustling of the wind, the sound of the bids.  It was once my favorite spot to sit with Jesus.  But as time went on I lost interest, I was too busy to sit with Jesus, too hurt to sit with Jesus.  I was caught up with striving.  Striving to be a godly woman, striving to be a godly wife, striving to be a good, striving to have a clean house and yet never becoming one of these things. Actually, I've been moving further and further away and really I was too tired to care.  But slowly and ever so gently Jesus has been calling me back to my chair on the porch under the bright green canopy of leaves.  In this chair, I'm just sitting with Jesus and I'm ceasing to strive.

"You are like Gilead to me"

Do Not Be Afraid - A Birthday Tribute

8 years ago, this morning, one of the scariest days of my life began.  Three days before I had listened to a friend speak at a convention in Denver, and she spoke about this command that appears over and over in the Bible to not be afraid.  The day after she spoke I ended up at University Hospital in Denver having contractions at 34 weeks.  The doctors at University stopped my labor, sent me back to the hotel and suggested I should check with my doctor in Cheyenne when I got home.  So, having had two small children in a hotel room for a week we decided to not stay for the rest of the convention and just head home.

The morning of the 27th began as normally as any Saturday morning, but within an hour Paul was frantically calling my doctor's pager because I was hemorrhaging.  Although there are many details to this story, the most important detail is that although the placenta had separated I delivered a beautiful little boy that day.  All day that day and for the next couple of weeks I kept reminding myself... Do NOT be afraid.  I think even if Jesus had been visible to me, he would have been saying the same thing.  It is in my nature to be frightened to worry, to wonder, to let my imagination run away to the worst possible place.  The thing is our little boy struggled for the first couple of days, he really didn't like this new world, he couldn't breathe, he didn't like to be touched, he had to be fed through a tube and eventually hang out under an absurd light.

I look back at 8 years ago and remember the fear, but also the promise that came after Do Not Be Afraid.  It wasn't a promise of perfection or ease.  It was a promise of faithfulness, it was a promise from a Savior that said, "I know this is scary, but I really don't want you  to be afraid, because I'm going to be there with you every step of the way.  We will laugh together, cry together, but know that you will never endure this alone."

When I look into the eyes of my 8 year old I see God's grace and faithfulness.

My Story

It seems that every time I read the Old Testament, I wade through Leviticus and then I'm on the shore of Numbers, thinking why do I care?  But then something changed.... in Leviticus, I started to realize that it was showing me the extent to which I need a Savior, even my unintentional, accidental sin is an abomination to my God. But then comes Numbers and it still starts out as a list of people.  What's a girl to do?  Then a light bulb comes on...

Last spring, my parents were on vacation and I started getting emails and texts from my dad.  He wanted to know my husband's grandparents names and where they came from.  So, I pass off the information.  In a couple days time, I start getting emails from my dad that start listing off my husbands ancestry.  And this image floats into my inbox:

This is the copy of the 1930 Census in South Dakota and on it are my husband's great-grandparents, his grandfather and his grandfather's siblings.  All it took was this blurry image to spark my imagination.  I immediately notice that Paul's great-grandfather is of Danish decent and his great-grandmother is of German decent.  And now I want to know their story.  What brought their family to America, how did they meet, what was it like being the child of an immigrant?  Each person on this piece of paper is a person with a story and yet like a vapor they are gone.  Someday I will just be another name on a piece of paper, a vapor, the name that someone reads and says, that was my great-grandmother.

Numbers is similar to this census paper.  It is the beginning of the chronology of the Israelites, it is their link to the past.  Each name, each tribe, has a story.  For most of the names, their story died with them, but I think as the Israelites would gather and read the names and recall the stories, there was excitement.  Children would whisper, "That was my great-great grandfather, that was my grandma's cousin, that is MY story."

Dear Friend,

Today, I was thinking about you, actually whenever someone asks me to tell my story - I think of you.  I think of sitting and chatting in your car or over coffee.  I think about serving together, worshiping together and learning together.  


But I don't think about growing together because I'm not sure we were actually real with each other.  How could we be? We were in a place where being the best you could be was valued and it was more important to challenge each others sin than to actually know each other.


One day our chatting stopped.  I thought it was because I wasn't worth anything to you anymore.  In all honesty I sort of felt used.  I had served with you and worked hard with you, but when my life circumstances changed that, the getting together stopped.  


But that wasn't the final blow to the relationship.  The final blow came when 
I didn't have the guts to stand with you.  I watched the whole community ostracize you and I wanted to step out and grab your hand, but I didn't know how.  Everyone around me said, she chose sin, she knew what she was doing, we must break fellowship with her.  But my heart kept saying, I don't know why this was her choice, but she is still one of us.  I feel hurt too, but I believe that she is a child of God, a saint.... a saint who is sinning, but still a saint!  


How I wished grace had been poured out, I wish grace had been poured out long ago, long before the sin, the junk, the mess.  What if long before we had stood together as saints who sin, not relying on our ability to challenge each other's sin but relying on God's grace to resolve the sin around us.  What if just for a second we had taken off our masks and revealed what lay behind them? Would it all have been different?  


But, its not different, it is a mess!  And it will continue to be a mess unless we can stop pretending, pretending that we have to look good to be a part of God's community, pretending that we are the only ones with issues, pretending that our abilities out rank God's grace, pretending that if we just muster up enough strength we can drag ourselves out of the pit, we can be better, we can be mature, we can make the right choices.  Maybe you had to get stuck in a pit so deep, so dark, so ugly that you could only rely on God's grace to get you out.  Maybe we are all kidding ourselves, if we don't believe that we also have to feel the darkness in ourselves before we can see the light of Christ.  


I'm starting to learn to rely on God's grace.  I'm trusting Him to transform me, and I'm trusting Him to transform others around me.  I'm realizing I don't make a very good barometer for other's issues, but Jesus, He is able to do it perfectly.  
I hope this letter finds you doing the same.  I hope that you have found hope and grace.  I pray for you often, that you will find a community where you can be yourself, that you will know forgiveness, that you will know that you are loved and maybe someday we will sit and have another cup of coffee. 

I want to Treasure Jesus and what He Treasures!

I just read this quote from the Truefaced guys, "Performance-obsessed cultures can never promote healing. Rather, they create more wounding." I was struck by how profound this statement is. I know the wounds of the performance-obsessed, from the extreme (in our puny little minds), adultery and porn addiction, to the benign (though not really benign), gossip and the need to fix those around us. But yet at any given moment we are all prone to fall into a mode of being performance driven. I notice that sometimes when my kids are doing something childish (imagine that - childish children) I start managing their behavior because I want them to look good because then I look good. Or sometimes I will say something, just because I know that someone around the table will think it is a really intelligent statement or really funny.

The dilemma is that although my children might look super on the outside they are as rebellious as ever on the inside, or maybe they aren't rebellious maybe they are content to please mom and change their behavior. But what if in changing their behavior they also start to believe that who they are isn't pleasing to me so they need to be something else - check out the wound I have just inflicted on their spirit. Or what if I create a mask so that when others see me they see an intelligent, put together, homeschooling mother of three with an impeccable sense of humor and one day I show up and my mask isn't on just right and they find out that I'm not all that intelligent or put together, and my humor falls short most of the time. I don't know about you but I have done my fair share of mask wearing and I have the scars to prove it.

And then I found out that Jesus isn't as interested in my performance as most of His followers are. I found out that He had already called me His own, so it doesn't matter if others want to disown me. He not only called me His own but He created me with a unique personality and He doesn't really want me to cover His workmanship with a mask. So, I'm on this journey to treasure Jesus, which flows over into treasuring what Jesus has declared His..... and that is you and me.

The "11" Procession

On May 5, our oldest turned 11....

Today you turn 11, to CELEBRATE we are going on a procession

What is a processions you ask?

A procession is when you move along in a succession.

Your procession will have "11" sessions.

When you have completed a session of your succession

You will get a suggestion that will lead to the next session.

During each session you and your companions 

will need to create a composition of your version of your excursion, 

which will record your procession

You will also need to make a visual representation of your impression of your procession

1. You will need this to complete your journey.  Fill it with each suggestion but don't forget to leave room for your compositions and visual representations.

2. It is possible your might desire a libation

3. Where might you go for an accumulation of possessions you might want to acquisition?

4. The coiffure on the capitulum of your effigy is perilously pernicious.  Lets see if we can rectify the situation.

5. Are you impassioned for crimson ammunition?

6. A benefaction for your accumulation of your treasures

7. Would you like to peruse the emporium?

8. How about a presentation of largess?

9. We've come to a time in our procession where we now have a question.... what next, you may ask?  one word....esplanade

10.  You have been cavorting and frolicking.  You may need a restorative consolation, which will hopefully bring inspiration.

11. It is the terminus of our procession.  Which makes me think you might want your last contribution and maybe give your companions an indication of your gratification in their accompaniment on your procession. 

Gray to Blue

Yesterday, I woke up and my blank page was immediately splashed with lemon yellow, the surprise of the bright sun, the energy of a good workout.  I felt strong, energized, ready for anything.

This morning my page started out gray, overcast, and foggy.  I felt overwhelmed before I even began.  I stumbled towards the coffee pot and grabbed a book.  I needed to wake up gently.  And then something began to happen as I sat reading about transformation.  I began to feel the arms of my heavenly Father wrap around me and gently pull me into His lap.  He invited me to pour out my heart, my fears, my insecurities.  I found myself harboring inadequacies and frustration.  And then it came, the flood of tears, transforming the gray into a brilliant blue.  My Father being the gracious Father that he is, didn’t stop there, he brought in his Son and let him take over.  His Son grabbed my face and looked straight into my eyes, piercing the armor of my heart, the shell that encased my soul.  The brilliance of the Son brought warmth and joy, making my heart ready....  Ready to proclaim the love of my Savior to my family, my neighbors, my community.... Ready to climb the mountain that this life seems to be..... Ready to accept transformation into my being....Ready to return to the comfort of his Spirit...guiding me, comforting me, walking this journey with me.

Blank

I wake up to a blank page.  What will today bring?  What will I do?   How will I feel?  What will I choose to fill my day with, what will I leave behind?  I don't know, but it sounds like fun!  

Good morning world!

S P A C E

I need space.  I crave space.  I long for space, in my surroundings, in my heart, in my mind.....  I was created to long for great open spaces to roam.  When my mind starts to get crowded I look for a place to wander.  I can wander about anywhere, the library, Barnes and Noble, Target, the park, my house, a book, music.  My first instinct is to bolt and my next to wander.  I feel this when relationships start crowding, when people are constant, when the house is continually cluttered, when the schedule is too full.

I blame this on my childhood (it always seems to be a good place to start, doesn't everyone blame their childhood).  I grew up with a lot of freedom to roam and be free.  I spent most of my early childhood on my grandparents ranch and my middle childhood in a quaint small town.  On the ranch, I pretended to be surviving the prairie on my own, sometimes as a pioneer girl and sometimes as a Native American.  When my body was tired of wandering, my mind found itself wandering in a book.  My elementary years allowed me the freedom to wander and explore a town.  I would go to my friends, the pool, the butcher (he had grape soda in the fridge), the library, Ben Franklins (who knows when the urge to buy lip gloss will come upon you), my dads office, and the mini mart (once again for soda and candy).

I often wonder, do I love Wyoming because I love space, or do I love space because I grew up in Wyoming.  Wyoming is physically about space but it is also emotionally about space, its probably even intellectually about space and I know its politically about space.  Space is everywhere, the unencumbered sky, the hills, the mountains, the canyons, the prairies.  There's space to be an individual, space to be an intellectual, space to be an artist, space to hide, space to get lost, space to scream at the top of your lungs, space to run, space to be known.  If there isn't space, the wind carves out space, freeing the world of distraction.

I'm trying to curb my spontaneous need to wander by creating space in my life.  Space that allows me to wander, space that protects me from wanting to bolt out the door, space that allows me to be creative, space that allows me to enter deeper into relationship and love, space that clears the cobwebs of my mind. I'm trying to embrace space when it comes and carve it out when its no where to be seen.  Because in the space I am unhindered, uncrowded, unencumbered.  I can think freely, create spontaneously, love extravagantly, sing loudly, serve unhindered.

I create space not only because I need it, but my family needs it.  Benji is so similar to me, extroverted, but needs space from people.  When his space has been invaded he hides, sometimes physically, but always emotionally.  Malaki when he needs space, he bolts and doesn't wander, just bolts.  I can't protect my children if I'm not offering them space.  Mika, she doesn't need quite as much space, probably because she guards her heart a little more closely, but when she needs space and there is none to be found she is like a caged lion.  She paces and roars, until somebody remembers to unlock her cage and let her roam.  She can roam through her sketch book or play with legos for hours, creating and creating and creating.  Space for her always equals being creative.   AND I create space because it is one of the best ways to LOVE my husband.  To give him time to create, to nap, to read, to hike, or to just do nothing, its in these moments that he is the most him, the most connected to his family and his creator.

Today is a day full of space.  I will write for awhile, wander somewhere for awhile,  hang out with my family. Maybe we'll play games, maybe we'll read, maybe we'll create with legos or paint.  Sadly, we will not be exploring the great outdoors, today the Wyoming wind is also using this opportunity to create space.  Who knows what we will do, but at the end of the day, we will feel free of the clutter of this world.

Because You Asked

I was asked by a friend what my top 10 books were, as I thought about it I had to expand the list to my top 25.  I have categorized the books (very loosely) according to the areas of my life that have been affected by these books.  As I thought about this, the dilemma I faced was that lots of these books have had an impact on many areas of my life, but for your benefit, I'm trying to put them into a box.  Also, this is sort of a brainstorming activity for me.  It is possible, that if asked next week, I would have a different list.  :)  Hopefully, you will find a new book by looking at my list and I would love to hear what some of your all time favorite books are.


Education/ Homeschooling
A Thomas Jefferson Education by Oliver DeMille
Leadership Education by Oliver DeMille
Home Education by Charlotte Mason
The Well-Trained Mind by Susan Wise Bauer
The Everyday Genius by Peter Kline

Parenting & Marriage
Grace-Based Parenting by Tim Kimmel
Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas
Love and War by John and Stasi Eldredge
Sacred Influence by Gary Thomas
Family Driven Faith by Voddie Baucham

Spirituality
The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris
Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton
Instruments in a Redeemer's Hand by Paul David Tripp
The Sense of the Call by Marva Dawn
A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken

Fiction
Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Joy in the Morning by Betty Smith
The Poisonwood bible by Barbara Kingsolver
My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

Read Alouds (for books to make this list, I had to love it and the kids had to love it)
The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
The Rise and Fall of Mount Majestic by Jennifer Trafton
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott

For Miss Holly

For three years of our life and education, we had a treasure, Miss Holly.  She taught my kids to appreciate art and she deeply cared for their hearts.  So, its no surprise that art is still a favorite activity, even though we don't live near Miss Holly and we can't be a part of her wonderful art classes.

Today, was Art Friday.  We are choosing projects out of the Usborne Art Treasury and the Usborne Art Skills.  Today, we learned about Van Gogh and  painted a" swirly landscape".

It has to be said, that my 9 year old has referred to him, no less than ten times, as the artist who shot himself.  Who knew that learning about art would lead to a conversation on mental illness?  And yet, that is why we school the way we school, to allow life to intersect education, and allow our kids to make connections on their own.


We also educate with this phrase constantly in our minds, "Inspire, don't Require."  My kids chose art, because they were inspired by a wonderful woman.  They chose to look at art and talk about it, because someone taught them to see.  And they inspire me to get down and dirty with them.  Not only am I inspired by them, but also by watching other "mentors" inspire them.  Whether its been a choir director, a friends, or an art teacher, watching their eyes come alive when they are inspired towards greatness, teaches me how to inspire them.  So, thank you Miss Holly and a whole host of other wonderful mentors my children have had.  By mentoring them, you have mentored me.

To My One and Only

Happy Birthday to my one and only!!!!  Today, is such a great opportunity to celebrate all the things I love about my husband.  

He loves His Family

Paul with our niece, Emery Parrish

Video Games With The boys :)

He accepts ADVENTURE as it comes

Paul in a Mexican Hospital

His IDENTITY is secure

He LOVES Me