In Your Hands

  What can I say?  I can't say anything that would do justice.  My words could never do you justice.  To say "amazing" would be the only thing I could utter.  And even that word doesn't do you justice.  God, you are so big.  I am so small.  Who am I to ever think I am anything.  You created the universe, you created me.  You've created it all.  You are the Almighty, the Prince of Peace, the Great I AM.   You are.
  God, how do I worship you, when all I have is a sinner's voice.  My lips have lied and deceived.   How could my praise mean anything to you?
  Yet, you care so much.  You go to great lengths to reveal yourself to me.  You listen to my silent prayers.  And.....you answer them.  Who else could do that?
  God, how could I ever doubt you?  You are.  You have been.  You always will be.  I have no reason to ever worry.  You are the creator of everything beautiful.  My life is in your hands.
 
   Thank you.

Sour Cream Lemon Pie

**Sour Cream Lemon Pie**

(Caution...this is really good!)

1 c. sugar

3-1/2 T. cornstarch

1T lemon zest

1/2 c. lemon juice

3 egg yolks, beaten

1 c. milk

1/4 c. butter

1 c. sour cream

9-inch pie crust, baked

2 c. whipped cream

    Combine sugar, cornstarch, lemon zest, lemon juice, egg yolks and milk in a saucepan.  Cook over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes, until thickened.  Stir in butter; cool to room temperature.  Stir in sour cream, spoon into pie crust.  Cover with whipped cream.  Chill before serving.  Serves 6 to 8.

Mushroom Pickin'

Ready....Set.....Head for the Hills!

   Every spring our family has a tradition: picking mushrooms.  More specifically, Morel mushrooms.  We've held this tradition for many years.  I will admit, it hasn't always been my favorite.  I love time in the "woods", I love the outdoors.  But my problem is a mushroom location issue.  I am not great at finding them.  As a kid we had to pick "so many" before we could go home....and I don't think I helped a lot.  We used to sell our mushrooms and save the money for our family ski pass in the winter.  A good trade....but I was much better at skiing than finding Morels.
  Anyway, this past weekend while "up north" we took the kids to partake in our tradition.  I was pleasantly surprised how "into it" they got.  Morel hunting is much like a treasure hunt, and my kids enjoyed it.  They did fight however, over the bucket with the mushrooms.  I guess sharing wasn't our strong suit this time.  But they had a great time.
  We hunted over the mountain side.  The air smelled so fresh. 
Afterward we packed our mushrooms to Grandpa and Grandma's and Grandma fried them up.  A treat!  Well, Mattie thought so.  Hap and Annie decided fungus wasn't their style.  So funny.

My Die-Hard

Lookin' Hard

A Total Trooper.

Lil' Go-Getter.

Beautiful.

They're Here Somewhere!

Jackpot!  We Grandma Found Them!

A Mushroom Picking Lesson

The Bucket Everyone Wanted.

Grandpa.  We love you!

A Warm Day!

My Littlest Baby and My Dad.

We spent the afternoon traversing the hills.  Riding the Four-wheelers and enjoying mountain air.  A good time!  And....we did pick a couple mushrooms.....a couple.  :)

Strawberry Road

There's a sacred road in every girls life.  A road marking every memory and moment of discovery.  A road defining who she is and who she is to become.  A road reminding her of where she started, and how far she's come.  The road holds secrets: whispered on the wind.  Feelings.  Thoughts.  Long talks with God.  Contemplation.   The road is hers, it belongs to her alone.  Her steps: one at a time are recorded in the dust.  She was here, and continues to move on. 
  The tracks marking travel continually change.  The little feet traveling grow little by little, year after year.   The tracks sometimes mark straight; sometimes more random: in those times of dancing.  They sometimes mark detours: especially in the spring when wild flowers are ripe for bouquets.  The tracks sometimes mark speed, and other times a reminiscing day-dreaming pace.  Dreams are contemplated on this road.  Secrets shared.  Tears sometimes shed. 
  Life happens on this road...sweet times, difficult times, that growing up and becoming someone.  This road will forever be etched in a memory.   The sound of a river near by, the train whistle and nearby tracks, wild flowers and summer evenings.  Dancing to the beat God created within.  And....learning to trust Him.   A journey.
  This is my road, Strawberry Road:

Yes, a Real Road

With Memories.....with Loved Ones.

 This past weekend, I had the opportunity to again venture north to visit my parents.  I love these trips.  I don't mind five hours with my kids, they're good travelers.  We makes stops, and sometimes explore.  I love teaching them as we go and sharing memories of places we drive through.  I admit, I am a closet romantic and am in love with time.  I celebrate the passage of time and places marked by it.  I guess one reason I love heading north is the travel straight through "home".
  I love that there's only one north-south route through our great state.  I also love that my childhood haunts parallel the great highway.  I can see moments from my childhood out my window as I pass by.  I remember picking apples from THAT tree near the highway.  I remember walking the tracks and listening for the train whistle (the same tracks have since become a state funded walking path).  No more is there a train whistle....but its in the recesses of my memory, and oh the day.  I remember the smell of the lumber mill, and day dreaming at the bridge on warm summer evenings.   These places are etched in my memory, precious to me.  They still beckon me as I pass.  Places and moments......on Strawberry Road.

The Old Bridge

  As we drove past "home" this weekend, I couldn't resist the urge to linger.  I had to stop.  I needed to stop.  There is still a part of me here.  My journey brought me here, and I admit, I haven't totally left.  I may never.  There will always be a part of me here.

The Old Train Tracks

Memories on the Wall

Its amazing how God works sometimes.  I had an overwhelming urge to share this with my children.  We stopped at the "old bridge".  I used to come down to the bridge to think.  In the summer and fall, the water level would drop, and I could sit under the bridge.  I even wrote my name on the wall.  This place was "my" place.
  And, as I showed my daughter around this weekend, we found my name still written on the wall.  After 20 years!  My last name has changed...and the fun part: there was a faint "+ T" under it.  Tim's name must have washed off, but I had enough to show her.  "This is me sweetie....the me, before you."
  She looked around and marveled at the landscaping, while my others viewed from the car window.  There was something SO special about sharing this with my girl.

Sharing

My

Journey

With Her....

 Passing things on.

 She, herself, is walking her own road.  She's on her own journey.  Hers will resemble mine a little, but it's also distinctly different.  Her markers are unique to her.  Her special memories and moments.  Her triumphs, her hard times and her wonderful summer evenings.  God has given her unique shoes and a beautifully unique mind.  Her road at this time is inner-woven in mine.  I thank God over and over for that.  But there will come a time when her road sets out in a different direction.
  I pray that when she looks back on her childhood she relishes those memories.  I pray her journey is sweet and that she holds tight to her Savior.  That when she drive's through "home", she'll have.......... .......a Strawberry Road.

For Such A Time As This

"...And who knows but that you have come ....for such a time as this?"  Esther 4:14.


These words: spoken to a young Jewish queen many years ago.....

  Still ring true today: for YOU.

Why are you here?  In 2012.  What is your purpose?  Who will you influence?  Who might God encourage, save or send hope to through you?
  Why......are........you........here????

It's awesome to think about.
You have a purpose.  You have been given gifts to use.  There will be a time in life when your decisions directly effect lives around you.
What is YOUR purpose???  Why were you created?
  Contemplate these words:
For, who knows, but that You have come....for such a time as.......this.....
 
 Grab hold of God.....and GO FOR IT!

On a Walk to the Mailbox

  Mail.  The word is exciting.  Mail doesn't come directly to our house.  We have to work for it.  And...you never know what it might bring.
  The weather is getting nicer also, so the daily trek to the mailbox is wonderful!!!
It's funny....in hindsight.  The trek used to include a stroller.  Then it was a stroller and a tricycle.  After that came a stroller, tricycle and a bike with training wheels.  Now our excursions only include tennis shoes and bikes.  The stroller went into retirement (that sure went fast).  But the excitement of our daily trek hasn't changed.

 The Destination:

 The Moment of Truth:

The Way Home (someone has an awesome big brother):

Small and Wonderful Distractions:

Our trip should only take 20 minutes, but its usually an hour  before the mail is placed on the counter.  That's okay though....grass, flowers, and puppy dogs are worth it. 

Spunk

  "Yes, in fact, she is mine."  Those little feet swinging back and forth in the bathroom stall, singing 'wipey, wipey, wipey' to the tune of Frera-Jocka.  "She is mine....and I LOVE HER!". 

On a Wednesday Night.....

  Wednesdays, rain or shine, are always our busiest nights....well, actually our busiest days too...  Wednesday for whatever reason spells C-H-A-O-S in our home.  Its a good kind of chaos.  But it is chaos none the less.  This is a given Wednesday at our house:
    We finish school around 2:00ish.  I take my sanity break in the bathroom with the door locked and my laptop fully charged.  And....an hour 15 minutes later we start the progression of activities to leave for church and AWANA.  My kids LOVE AWANA!!!!  And....yes it takes a couple hours to get out the door. 
  We round up AWANA books, Bibles, and vests (and tuck them in a bag).  I get supper started.  I ask the kids to change their clothes...and then ask once more as the jeans with holes have been replaced with another pair with holes...lol.  We eat supper on the fly and I hurriedly fix the girls hair.  Amidst tangles and hairbrushes, spray bottles, hair spray....and a cat incessantly winding herself around my feet, we get everyone presentable and to the car. 
  On the way, I make a mental note: 3 kids...check.  2 grown-ups...check.  3 books, 3 Bibles, 3 vests...check.  1 nebulizer and meds...check (we have an asthmatic).  And.....argh.  My Bible....I forgot my Bible.  At least I remembered the kids stuff.
  We arrive at church looking slightly wind blown (not sure why....lol).  3 excited kids jump out with books, vests and Bibles in hand.  I grab everything I own (which isn't much because I forgot it all at home) and head to check my kids in.
  I check them in and head for "grown up" church.  Tim is working with the youth, so its just me....by myself.  I walk alone to the "Grown-up building"...and I don't experience "alone" very much....so this feeling is a little exhilarating.  I wouldn't change being a mama for the world....but mama's do need some alone time every now and again.
  I sit down.....alone...and prepare for some spiritual nourishment.  I have a small notebook to take notes....and borrow a Bible from the church as mine is on my kitchen counter.  I settle in.
  I then notice a red three digit number flash on the church projector screen.  A number that resembles the one on my wristband....a wristband representing one said small child I recently deposited in the children's ministry building.  I am needed. 
  I throw my purse over my shoulder and head back to the Children's Ministry Building.  I am met in the office by my sweet youngest....in tears.  "Mommy!!"  sniff...sniff...sniff....  "I just really missed you".....sniff....sniff....sniff...."And...I need you to come to class with me"....sniff...sniff...sniff.   After a couple minutes of reassurance, we head back to her class....together. Guess I won't be in "grown up" church after all tonight.....maybe next week.
  I sit in class with my baby and we eat a yummy snack and then play "clean up".  I am glad I have a baby to experience this with...even if I miss "grown up" church.
  Check out time rolls around.  We reverse the check in process.  3 kids...check.  3 Bibles, books, and vests...check.  2 grown-ups...check.   We did it. 
  As we leave town we stop at the pharmacy to refill asthma meds.  We get to the pharmacy and both my girls suddenly have to go potty (hhmmmmm.....I am sure the pharmacy sucker jar has nothing to do with it).  The boys wait in the car and us girls tromp into Walmart...  We stand in line....my girls have located the suckers and have a game plan.  We grab our meds and two suckers. 
  We check out....and head for the bathroom.  And...as I suspected, only one really/sorta had to go......I knew it was the suckers.  And....my other sweet baby hollers from across the bathroom, "Mom!!  Did you know the hand dryer turns on with your tongue?!?!"  "WHAT?!??!" I holler back then realizing and thanking God the dryer is motion activated.  "And, Mom..the air tastes like sugar!"  "That's nice sweetheart....I think its probably your sucker". 
  We run out to the car with asthma meds in hand.  We drive home, get ready for bed.....and realize we left the nebulizer at church.
  Wednesdays.