Hour of Courage

The first Sunday in October is the annual Life Chain across the United States and parts of Canada. It is an hour dedicated to prayer for the unborn. The sanctity of life. Our country's healing.

It takes everything I have to stand on the street holding a sign for all the passing motorists to read. Signs vary from the harsh realities of abortion to the healing power of Jesus.

One hour and all the strength I can muster.

Always in the beginning of the hour I feel foolish, out of place. Even though there are hundreds of believers standing on our busy street, I feel like the only one. Then something miraculous happens. I begin to pray. I begin to hum. I begin to realize that I am part of something much greater than me. I begin to understand the power of this moment.

Every year I am reminded of how far my life has come. I praise God that abortion is not part of my story. He wrote a different past for me. One of loss and grief. But thankfully and by His grace alone this is not a pain that I have known. Yet my heart breaks for those who have.

As I watched cars zoom by I saw pain and heartbreak. I saw a world in need of a Savior. I saw young women cry. I saw people laughing at us. I saw thumbs up and waves. But mostly, I saw the boldness of our message getting reaction. I pray that someone, somewhere had a moment of repentance. My hope standing out on the curb was that someone found forgiveness and a fresh start.

We had ten people from our church who graciously sacrificed their precious Sunday to stand up and make a difference. My sixteen year old niece was among us. This girl is not like the majority. She has pledged her life to Jesus and made choices to stay pure. She is set apart yet she is still very cool. She has seen beloved friends fall to drugs, alcohol and s*x. She has seen the heartbreak and heard the cries. Still she remains pure. I have never been more proud of her than I was yesterday. Standing up for the Life Chain takes a tremendous amount of courage. I am 34 and it takes all I have. I can't imagine what it must be like for a 16 year old. There she stood holding a sign that boldly proclaimed Jesus's love for us.

The part I love is that she believes it. She lives it.

Another member from our church is a young grandma. Her daughter recently had a baby that could have easily been aborted. This grandma brought her grandson and stood in the heat to show the world that this could have been her daughter's story. Seeing her stand next to her sleeping grandson brought tears to my eyes.

It was a precious hour of prayer.

Whatever choices you have made in the past, whatever your story is please know that Jesus heals and forgives. Today is a new day. Today is a fresh start. Have courage to admit that you need Jesus. I can almost guarantee that someone in your life has prayed for you.

Take hold of the one who heals. He has been waiting to lavish you with His love.

Clean vs. Not Clean

My closet is clean.
My kitchen is clean.
My laundry room shelf is clean.
The kitchen cabinets are clean.
The playroom is clean.
Both kid's closets are clean.
My bloglines are clean.


My car is not clean.
My bathroom is not clean.
My craft room is NOT clean...not even close to clean.
My dresser drawers are not clean.
My windows are not clean.
My fridge is not clean.


Clean 7. Not clean 6.


Things are getting done. I am getting closer to my goal. Once caught up, I am going to throw myself into my scrapbooks. I can't indulge myself in this yet, but I am getting closer.

Bargains waiting to be found, then sold.

I love garage sales. The lazy Saturday drive through neighborhoods, stopping at a house full of goodies. The thrill of the hunt. The casual glances at one's make-shift store. The slow drive-bys to determine whether or not to stop. Fall ushers in opportunities in every neighborhood. A chance to connect with people that you wouldn't normally connect with.

In September, Skip's family hosts our annual "Trash to Treasure" swap at his sister's house. Every year I think this will be the year that we will be organized. Every year I come crashing down to reality. Every year we start preparing mere days before the big event.

But this year is the worst. Stomach flu and general busyness has found us very ill-prepared. In just 2 short days, I will need to go through every nook and cranny in our house and find our "trash". We will look through and debate each item for any possible usage or significance. We will bargain with the kids about their sale items. We will haggle with them about the Beanie Baby they haven't touched in 3 years. Then we will swear to NEVER do this again.

I have several late nights ahead. Several hours of pricing, sorting,cleaning, displaying. I wonder if its worth it.

Then Friday and Saturday roll around and I realize why we put ourselves through this. I love meeting the people that come to look at our "trash". I love talking with Skip's family. I love watching the kids play outside all day. Listening to them "sell" their items. I love the jokes and stories told over McDonald's breakfast. I love snuggling in sweatshirts, then peeling them off as the day gets hotter. I love seeing families leave with their newly found treasures. I love laughing about the oddball things we try to sell--one year we had 4 toilets in the front yard!

Every year we look forward to the next garage sale and the time we get to spend together. Just wish me luck that we can find something to sell in this short amount of time. Any garage sale advice would be handy! What works for you? How do you stay organized throughout the year so you are not frantically scrabbling just days before?

This is so me. I would rather blog about having to get ready for a garage sale, than actually getting ready for the garage sale. Better run....

Drama, drama, drama.

Yesterday, spider killing. Today, stomach flu.


We are like the weather around here. If you get tired of one thing, it will change by tomorrow. Life is never dull.

God made creatures big and small. UPDATED!!

God made tarantulas. This I know. But I am sure He did not intend for one to take up residence on my front porch.

I nearly DIED when I picked up my watering can and there was the hairy beast! People, this is why I procrastinate. Nothing good comes from doing chores.

"GET OUT!" I yelled. No response.

Made a quick call to brave husband asking him how to KILL the tarantula. He said, "Don't kill it. Wait till I get home so we can play with it."

Did he just meet me? Never in our 12 years of marriage have I ever wanted to play with tarantulas. I feel the same about not wanting my offspring to either. Dead spiders in glass jars are fine to look at, but to play with? Seriously.

After my brief period of indignation, I made my second call to Shelley because she just experienced this same thing. Her tip was to put a glass bowl over it and let the kids look at it. Hmmm. This presents a problem since I poked at it and it crawled up the wall by the front door. I am sure the neighbors thought I was getting murdered based on my screams (although no one rushed out of their houses to save me.)

Shelley also mentioned that we were having a tarantula migration this season. This is not good news. That means we can expect to see more.

Currently I am blogging 12 feet away from the hairy and all I can think about is how it will DIE. Instead of taking action, I am cooling my jets until Skip can home so we can all PLAY with it.

Over my dead body!


Update:
Skip finally came home and inspected our intruder. He informed me that it wasn't a tarantula but a wolf spider. Rendering him at a complete loss as to how to handle the situation. He was, however, very helpful in maintaining my level of anxiety by yelling "BOO!" repeatedly. He is a funny, funny man! But in the end, victory was ours.

Trust me this thing was huge and hairy. The scale of this picture doesn't do it justice. It warranted 2 frantic phone calls and lots of jumping and screaming.

The children are safe and secure outside the KILL zone! I am happy to say that Skip really wasn't in the mood to play with big hairy spider. He kept saying that it was the biggest he had ever seen. Needless to say, the children are safe.

The murder weapon.

You are not so scary anymore, MR. DEAD SPIDER! Ha! You messed with the wrong house.

Three

Three is the number of calendars I have in our house. That sounds pretty efficient, right? Could someone please tell me how I managed to miss a meeting this week and wish a friend "Happy Birthday!" on the wrong day. Hello? What is wrong with me?

I took a week off of blogging to get my priorities straight. But I am still a mess, so I might as well blog my little heart out!

There are still projects that need completing. I have started lots of them, but completed...one. I am feeling defeated and seriously overwhelmed.

If anyone wanted to nominate me for a TLC organization show, I would not be offended. Seriously, that and "What Not To Wear". I need a little of Stacy London in my life and the $5,000 that she brings to the table.

Nominate to your hearts content people!

But I digress. I still have much to do. But my number one project is to update all my calendars. Otherwise I might be decorating for Christmas tomorrow or celebrating Martin Luther King Day. Either one.

Savoring the moment.

He didn't know that I was secretly watching him.

Watching and waiting to see what he was doing for his sister.

Her little face held the glow that only admiration for a hero can hold.

Her brother was helping her. Her world was just as it should be.

Did he pour the milk perfectly the way I would have?

No, but he was attentive. He was loving. He was compassionate.

They left the kitchen with full cups in hand. He invited her into his inner sanctum...his room.

They played without fighting. They giggled. They pretended.

My heart soared.

I savor moments like this when I see the seeds of friendship blooming in my kids. I pray that they will develop and nurture a bond that will last a lifetime. Oh, how I hope they will trade in the bickering for a real relationship. I pray that my son will rise up and become a protector of his sweet sister. I pray that she will trust him enough to confide in him. I pray that we will be a family that finds wealth in our relationship and not in our assets.

I am glad I choose to watch from the sidelines and not interfere in this moment. It gave me a chance to see what lies ahead for them.

Friendship.