Hurricane Irene has come and gone; she was a beast to many. All one has to do is turn on the news to see the havoc she has wreaked and hear of the deaths she has caused.
She was my "first" hurricane. It is terrifying to watch the news and hear the authorities and governement officials telling individuals in your area to, "hope for the best, but prepare for the worst." We headed their instructions, and then we watched the television, closely, the path of the storm. We prayed it would just head deep out into the ocean away from all humans, and then simply, disappear.
We listened to the reports that it was headed straight for us. We watched as it viciously ripped through other states before us. We had only two things we could do: wait and pray.
Besides a wet basement, fallen limbs and closed roads all around us, we are fine. We had no real damage to our home. We were kept safe. We are safe. Tonight, I'm not going to go into details about the hurricane. Instead, I am writing to say, "thank you."
In the days leading up to the hurricane, I began getting phone calls, texts, facebook messages and wall posts. They all expressed a common theme. "We love you guys. We are praying for you all. Keep us posted. We're thinking of you all."
Each text, phone call, and facebook post and message meant the world to us. We were trying our best not to be afraid, but when you have no other family around, it's easy to let fear creep in. All of the constant communication from friends and family from Illinois and other areas gave us confidence. We KNEW so many people were praying and beliving for us. So many prayers were going up to the Lord Almighty for us.
We knew we had people all over following the news and tracking Hurricane Irene just to see how close she would be coming to our area. We even had people up throughout the night last night tracking the storm, even as we were sleeping.
We miss our church from Illinois. We miss it immensely. The pastor and congregation there prayed for us this morning, and for the rest of the east coast. When someone called and told me that, I cried. My parent's church did the same thing. They prayed for my family! There is nothing more we could ask for.
Moving across the country has proven to be challenging. There are days when it is exciting and I feel accomplished, strong and capeable. Other days, I feel lonely and forgotten. When I feel that way, it is like I am being tortured from within. I wouldn't wish those feelings on anyone. It has nothing to do with my husband or kids, or even if my day was "good" or "bad." It is just a feeling that does its best to creep up on me every now and then. I refer to it as the "alien on another planet" feelling.
So, to all of you who texted me, messaged me, called me, etc...during this frightening time...I thank you from the bottom of my heart. We all do. We felt each and every prayer. I knew that prayers were going up for us all over the United States because we had such peace. It's not that we weren't afraid, or dreading the storm, but we were experiencing the peace deep within us that can only come from God. Not only were we protected, but He calmed the raging storm in our minds and hearts regarding Irene.
We feel loved. We feel "thought of." We feel cherished. As my husband and I were sitting in the living room watching the news last night, in the middle of the night, with the winds raging outside and pounding on our home, I thought of all of you and your prayers and words of encouragement. You all gave us strength for the storm.
Today, we are praising the Lord that the storm has passed and we are able to talk about it tonight because we are here and unharmed!
We thank our Heavenly Father for our friends and family who rode every wave of this storm with us. What a ride it was!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Days 76-81 *Everything I learned I learned from my animals* (almost everything)
I was looking through old pictures tonight. I stumbled upon some pictures from my childhood. I can't help but smile when I view the photos. What a childhood it was!
I grew up in Kentucky. We raised rabbits and teddy bear hamsters. Our entire backyard was full of rabbit cages. Litters were being born at an astouding rate. Bunnies do "do it" a lot! The bunnies were as cute as can be. We had solid white ones with pink eyes, brown rabbits with big brown eyes, and gorgous black and white rabbits with deep, round black eyes. I would feed and water them, and I would spend some time with them; however, I knew not to spend too much time! I knew that these rabbits were not my pets. They were our food, and they provided food for many other families as well.
When we began raising rabbits, I was young, probably about five, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Honestly, I think I just assumed that mom and dad were being generous in the "pet department." That idea quickly changed one morning when I looked out the kitchen window and saw my dad butchering one of the brown rabbits. Quickly, I learned what the rabbits were for. I learned that their purpose was not so that I could have 75 rabbits to play with. I realized that these rabbits were food to people who would come over and purchase them. They were food for us. Before long, it didn't bother me anymore. I understood and appreciated it. I would sit in the backyard carrying on a conversation with my dad about my school day as he butchered rabbits. It was humane, quick, and I learned a lot about life from raising rabbits.
My dad traveled as a construction worker. He was gone a lot. During those times, my mom and I took care of the rabbits. That meant feeding and watering 50 or more rabbits a couple of times per day. It didn't matter what kind of weather we were having. Rabbits still get hungry and thirsty! The winters were dreadful! My mom would get me up early before school, while it was still dark outside. We would wrap scarves around our heads, and put on hats, gloves, heavy coats, and boots as we would make our way down to the rabbit cages. Every bowl had frozen water...which means thirsty and dehydrated bunnies. We would keep going inside and boiling water in order to thaw out the heavy bowls. The ice would begin to crack, and we'd get a stick and beat the rest of the ice out. Finally, we would pour in fresh water, put pellets in their metal feeders, and return to our warm home for breakfast.
I learned about hard work and that a family is supposed to pull together to accomplish their tasks.
Several times, I remember vividly waking up from a deep sleep due to hearing what resembled children screaming. It wasn't children. It was our rabbits. Wild dogs get hungry, too. They would come in the middle of the night and attack the rabbits. They would press their sharp teeth through the cages and it woud send our rabbits into panic. If you have never hard rabbits "scream," it is eerie. My mom and I would run outside yelling. The dogs would run off, but the damage had already been done. Some of our rabbits would be lying on their sides, because their feet had literally been eaten off. Other rabbits were still, already dead, because the dogs had ripped out pieces of their small bodies. It was heartbreaking. There was only one thing to do in this situation. The rabbits, in pain, needed to be "put down" right away. They were hurting, and it was unfair.
I learned that life is not always fair. Nature can be so cruel. As vicious as it seemed, the wild dogs were not at fault. It's just the way it is.
One day, a beautiful litter was born. Our of all the bunnies, there was one solid white one, and it was big! My parents allowed me to choose one as a pet. It would be my rabbit that was stricly for fun. I chose the big white bunny and named him Thumper. He was one cool bunny. He grew very large. I walked him on a leash and taught him a few tricks. For instance, I'd snap my fingers above his head and he would balance on his hind legs and I would give him a leaf and he would hold it in his mouth as he was balancing! It was quite amazing.
I learned that my parents knew that I had a true love for animals, and they were determined to give me opportunities to foster that love. I also learned that rabbits are much smarter than we think they are!
I had ducks. They were something else. Creatively, I named them Wacky and Quacky. Our backyard was surrounded by woods. There were several large ditches deep in the woods. I would carry Wacky and Quacky into the woods and let them swim around in the deep ditches. Or, I would fill up a huge tin dog tub with water and let them hang out in there. They were interesting pets. They were also dirty! I still can't believe my parents let me attempt to be a duck owner. Nonetheless, they did! I enjoyed it and took care of them to the very best of my ability.
I learned that my parents trusted me. They were willing to let me take chances. Ducks were fun, cute, and filthy.
We were raising rabbits, and that was successful. I enjoyed my ducks. So, I decided it was time for me to raise an animal all on my own. I chose teddy bear hamsters. They were small, furry, and I could fit lots of cages in my bedroom. Keep in mind that we did not own a television. We didn't have video games. We had to be creative, and our parents allowed us these opportunities.
My room began to fill with cages. I had several females and a couple of males. I would breed these hamsters and they would create these adorable jelly-bean like babies. They had no hair. If I accidentally touched the small baby, the mother would eat it. My mom helped me with the cage cleaning. I'm sure she dreaded it, but she did help me with it. I began selling my baby teddy bear hamsters to a local pet shop.
One afternoon, I took a batch of weaned hamsters to the pet shop. Usually, the owner woud take them from me, pay me $0.25 per hamster, and I'd be on my way; however, the afternoon with my dad was different. The owner paid me for my little babies, and walked away with them. I followed him. He took them to a back room, and literally tossed them in a ten gallon aquarium FULL of other hamsters. The hamsters were three and four deep! My babies were just lost in the masses! I believe they were going to be used for snake food.
I stood in disbelief and cried. There was nothing I could do but walk away. He paid for them and they were no longer mine anyway.
I learned that things are not always as though they appear. They were my baby teddy bear hamsters, my responsibility, and it was my "hamster business." I should have asked more questions and scoped out the pet shop better. I also learned that sometimes we just have to move on. There is nothing we can do. We have to suck it up and keep moving.
We also had an enormous orange cat, again, with a very creative name: Tiger. My dad always despised cats. One sunny afternoon, a scrawny, half-dead looking kitten approached. I was instantly in love. I knew he needed us, or else he'd die. I also knew that my dad HATED cats. There was nothing he liked about them. I went to him and just begged. I pleaded my case. He said, "Yes, you can keep him, but he's not coming in the house." We took the scrawny cat home and fattened him up. It started to get cold.
"Dad, can he please come in for a little while?" I asked.
"For awhile." he said.
Within six months, my dad had quite a buddy. Dad woud get home from work and it was obvious how excited he was to see his pal, Tiger. Dad and I would go fishing and I'd use a net and catch baby bluegill, bass, and tiny catfish. We decided to start an aquarium of lake fish. We would feed them pieces of worms and insects. That was an amazing project for a kid! Tiger would balance on top of the ten gallon aquarium and put his giant paw into the water and flop our fish right out onto the floor.
Tiger was a wonderful asset to our family for many years.
I learned that parents, so often, put the love of their children before themselves. I learned that things that start out ugly, skrawny, and unloved, can have that all turned around if someone is willing to love them. This is true for people as well.
My one true love was Nicky. I rode home from elementary school every day with a boy named Shawn's mom. One afternoon, she picked us up from school and there were three puppies in the back of her station wagon. One puppy was black and white and covered with wirey hair. She had a pink and black nose. Could it get any cuter? Her hair almost completely covered her big brown eyes. Shawn's mother was taking me home and then taking the puppies to the pet shelter. I had to have that black and white puppy! She would make my little farm complete.
I took the puppy out of the car and headed up to my front door. My mom came out and, at first, shook her head "no." I showed her this precious pooch and she said, "Go out to the backyard. Your dad is out there. Show him the puppy and look up to him with your puppy dog eyes and say, "Please, daddy."
That's what I did. Dad picked up the puppy by the scruff of her neck. He held her up and looked her over really well.
"I guess we'll keep her. She looks like a fine dog."
Looking back now, I know what a gift she was for me. Intuitively, dad knew that. He knew just by looking at her that we would make an awesome pair.
I named her Nicky. My middle name is Nicole, so, I named her after me!
For years, we were a match made in heaven. She was that childhood dog that one never, ever forgets.
I learned that sometimes, even if we're not thrilled to give in to a request to our kids, just do it anyway, within reason. I learned about the love of a dog and what it means to a kid. I learned about unconditional love and that everything and everybody, for the most part, deserves a second chance. I was Nicky's second chance. She made me a very happy little girl.
When I was ten, my dad got a more permanant job in Illinois. The job meant that we would all be together as a family...my parents, two sister and I; however, we would be moving into an apartment in an unfamiliar area. We knew not one single person in our new location. So, ultimately, it meant that my "farming" days were over. I had to find new homes for all of my loves. I was crushed. My sadness was overwhelming and I hurt all over. Even so, I knew it must be done. Knowing that my family would all be together made it worth it...as painful as it was, I knew it was the right thing to do.
I learned that family is everything. Pets are extremely important, too; however, a family sticks together, even in the most difficult times. I learned that parents, as well as children, ache. When they see their children hurt, they hurt even more.
Dad handled all of the rabbits. I'm not sure where they all went; however, Thumper was my responsibility. I asked my mom's dad if he would be willing to take Thumper. He agreed. He lived in the country. Thumper lived there with him for several years. He had complete freedom. There was a wooden ladder leading into his cage, and he could enter and exit as he pleased. Eventually, he was just gone. He was never to be seen again.
We found homes for all of the teddy bear hamsters.
Our fat orange cat, Tiger, went to a family that we knew pretty well. The wife had been one of my sister's teacher. Tiger was a wonderful pet to that family for many years. They fell in love with him and his antics, just as we had. About three years after we moved, my dad sit us all down and said that he had something to tell us. I remember his words exactly.
He said, "A member of our family has died." My mom, sisters and I just stared at him wide-eyed and scared. He told us that Tiger had lived a great life with his new family, but he was hit by a car and he died instantly. All five of us sit there and cried. It had been three years, and even so, we all cried. I believe we weren't just crying due to Tiger's death. We were crying because we had been through a lot. We picked up, left our extended family, left our precious animals, and moved, so that we could all be together as a family, with dad at home with us. A precious piece of our past was gone, and it was heartbreaing.
We drove my ducks, Wacky and Quacky out to a farm. There was a big pond and other animals roaming around. I kept seeing this big dog running freely. Right before we left the farm I distinctly remember saying, "I hope that dog doesn't hurt one of my ducks." Well, he enjoyed not one duck, but both of them.
Last, but certainly not least, was Nicky. I had to find her a home. I loved her so much. My dad's friend told us that his parents had a dog named Nicky that had recently died of old age. We asked if they were interested, and they were. My mom and I went out and bought Nicky a new pink collar and leash so that she would look beautiful when we handed her over to her new owners. I remember the drive as if it were yesterday. I had Nicky's leash and we got out of the car. We walked up to the lady. As I began to hand over the leash, I began sobbing uncontrollably and just ran back to the car. I never looked back. I think I cried for days.
About a year later, I had a dream that something was wrong with Nicky and I pleaded with my mom to call her owner. Sure enough, Nicky had been hit by a car and lost one of her legs. She was managing, though. She ended up living out her last years with them. They would send me pictures of my girl, and I still have them.
What did I learn from all of that? Life is hard, but it is also FABULOUS! I'm sure you've heard the quote, "It's better to have loved and lost, then to never have loved at all." How true that is!
As much as we would love to change things...some things just can't be changed. We have to accept certain things, and then move on.
I learned that kids can grow up with no television, or name brand clothes, or video games, and still thrive!
I learned that sometimes, the things we go through in life that are the most difficult, make us stronger, smarter, and more sensitive to others.
I learned that family is everything. Families must stick together, work together, laugh together, and even cry together.
I learned that children are capeable of work. They need to know that hard work is important. It will not hurt them. It will make them strong and capeable members of society.
Some things in life are just simply unfair. It's just that simple.
I certainly learned the value of a dollar.
On a lighter not, I learned about the breeding habits of rabbits and hamsters. I learned that when rabbits are mating, the male begins to stomp so hard that the noise can be heard from a great distance! I learned that, unfortunatley, sometimes animal mommy's can be more nurturing than human mommys. I can easily tell you every internal organ of a rabbit, show you how to butcher them, skin them, and fry them.
I learned how it feels, as a young girl, to get home and have a wirey-haired black and white mutt be so happy to see you that she couldn't contain herself! The fact that I was home, was all she needed.
I learned that my parents thought I was pretty special to let me learn all of these great things. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything.
**Ten years ago, we took our daughter to an animal shelter. She picked out a skrawny orange kitten. Out of all the names in the world, she named him, Tiger! It was time for us to move to New York. The vet worried about a cat Tiger's age traveling such a distance. So...time to find a home for another cat that we loved so dearly...one named Tiger! Graciously, my parents said, "We'll take Tiger." It was music to my ears. Even if they weren't consciously thinking of it, I believe, in their hearts, they remember very well the pain we all felt when we moved from Kentucky 25 years ago, and had to give our very own Tiger away.
So, now, they are caring for my daughter's cat, Tiger. They are spoiling him rotten, and he is driving them crazy, but they love him, and that's all I need to know!
I grew up in Kentucky. We raised rabbits and teddy bear hamsters. Our entire backyard was full of rabbit cages. Litters were being born at an astouding rate. Bunnies do "do it" a lot! The bunnies were as cute as can be. We had solid white ones with pink eyes, brown rabbits with big brown eyes, and gorgous black and white rabbits with deep, round black eyes. I would feed and water them, and I would spend some time with them; however, I knew not to spend too much time! I knew that these rabbits were not my pets. They were our food, and they provided food for many other families as well.
When we began raising rabbits, I was young, probably about five, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Honestly, I think I just assumed that mom and dad were being generous in the "pet department." That idea quickly changed one morning when I looked out the kitchen window and saw my dad butchering one of the brown rabbits. Quickly, I learned what the rabbits were for. I learned that their purpose was not so that I could have 75 rabbits to play with. I realized that these rabbits were food to people who would come over and purchase them. They were food for us. Before long, it didn't bother me anymore. I understood and appreciated it. I would sit in the backyard carrying on a conversation with my dad about my school day as he butchered rabbits. It was humane, quick, and I learned a lot about life from raising rabbits.
My dad traveled as a construction worker. He was gone a lot. During those times, my mom and I took care of the rabbits. That meant feeding and watering 50 or more rabbits a couple of times per day. It didn't matter what kind of weather we were having. Rabbits still get hungry and thirsty! The winters were dreadful! My mom would get me up early before school, while it was still dark outside. We would wrap scarves around our heads, and put on hats, gloves, heavy coats, and boots as we would make our way down to the rabbit cages. Every bowl had frozen water...which means thirsty and dehydrated bunnies. We would keep going inside and boiling water in order to thaw out the heavy bowls. The ice would begin to crack, and we'd get a stick and beat the rest of the ice out. Finally, we would pour in fresh water, put pellets in their metal feeders, and return to our warm home for breakfast.
I learned about hard work and that a family is supposed to pull together to accomplish their tasks.
Several times, I remember vividly waking up from a deep sleep due to hearing what resembled children screaming. It wasn't children. It was our rabbits. Wild dogs get hungry, too. They would come in the middle of the night and attack the rabbits. They would press their sharp teeth through the cages and it woud send our rabbits into panic. If you have never hard rabbits "scream," it is eerie. My mom and I would run outside yelling. The dogs would run off, but the damage had already been done. Some of our rabbits would be lying on their sides, because their feet had literally been eaten off. Other rabbits were still, already dead, because the dogs had ripped out pieces of their small bodies. It was heartbreaking. There was only one thing to do in this situation. The rabbits, in pain, needed to be "put down" right away. They were hurting, and it was unfair.
I learned that life is not always fair. Nature can be so cruel. As vicious as it seemed, the wild dogs were not at fault. It's just the way it is.
One day, a beautiful litter was born. Our of all the bunnies, there was one solid white one, and it was big! My parents allowed me to choose one as a pet. It would be my rabbit that was stricly for fun. I chose the big white bunny and named him Thumper. He was one cool bunny. He grew very large. I walked him on a leash and taught him a few tricks. For instance, I'd snap my fingers above his head and he would balance on his hind legs and I would give him a leaf and he would hold it in his mouth as he was balancing! It was quite amazing.
I learned that my parents knew that I had a true love for animals, and they were determined to give me opportunities to foster that love. I also learned that rabbits are much smarter than we think they are!
I had ducks. They were something else. Creatively, I named them Wacky and Quacky. Our backyard was surrounded by woods. There were several large ditches deep in the woods. I would carry Wacky and Quacky into the woods and let them swim around in the deep ditches. Or, I would fill up a huge tin dog tub with water and let them hang out in there. They were interesting pets. They were also dirty! I still can't believe my parents let me attempt to be a duck owner. Nonetheless, they did! I enjoyed it and took care of them to the very best of my ability.
I learned that my parents trusted me. They were willing to let me take chances. Ducks were fun, cute, and filthy.
My room began to fill with cages. I had several females and a couple of males. I would breed these hamsters and they would create these adorable jelly-bean like babies. They had no hair. If I accidentally touched the small baby, the mother would eat it. My mom helped me with the cage cleaning. I'm sure she dreaded it, but she did help me with it. I began selling my baby teddy bear hamsters to a local pet shop.
One afternoon, I took a batch of weaned hamsters to the pet shop. Usually, the owner woud take them from me, pay me $0.25 per hamster, and I'd be on my way; however, the afternoon with my dad was different. The owner paid me for my little babies, and walked away with them. I followed him. He took them to a back room, and literally tossed them in a ten gallon aquarium FULL of other hamsters. The hamsters were three and four deep! My babies were just lost in the masses! I believe they were going to be used for snake food.
I stood in disbelief and cried. There was nothing I could do but walk away. He paid for them and they were no longer mine anyway.
I learned that things are not always as though they appear. They were my baby teddy bear hamsters, my responsibility, and it was my "hamster business." I should have asked more questions and scoped out the pet shop better. I also learned that sometimes we just have to move on. There is nothing we can do. We have to suck it up and keep moving.
We also had an enormous orange cat, again, with a very creative name: Tiger. My dad always despised cats. One sunny afternoon, a scrawny, half-dead looking kitten approached. I was instantly in love. I knew he needed us, or else he'd die. I also knew that my dad HATED cats. There was nothing he liked about them. I went to him and just begged. I pleaded my case. He said, "Yes, you can keep him, but he's not coming in the house." We took the scrawny cat home and fattened him up. It started to get cold.
"Dad, can he please come in for a little while?" I asked.
"For awhile." he said.
Within six months, my dad had quite a buddy. Dad woud get home from work and it was obvious how excited he was to see his pal, Tiger. Dad and I would go fishing and I'd use a net and catch baby bluegill, bass, and tiny catfish. We decided to start an aquarium of lake fish. We would feed them pieces of worms and insects. That was an amazing project for a kid! Tiger would balance on top of the ten gallon aquarium and put his giant paw into the water and flop our fish right out onto the floor.
Tiger was a wonderful asset to our family for many years.
I learned that parents, so often, put the love of their children before themselves. I learned that things that start out ugly, skrawny, and unloved, can have that all turned around if someone is willing to love them. This is true for people as well.
My one true love was Nicky. I rode home from elementary school every day with a boy named Shawn's mom. One afternoon, she picked us up from school and there were three puppies in the back of her station wagon. One puppy was black and white and covered with wirey hair. She had a pink and black nose. Could it get any cuter? Her hair almost completely covered her big brown eyes. Shawn's mother was taking me home and then taking the puppies to the pet shelter. I had to have that black and white puppy! She would make my little farm complete.
I took the puppy out of the car and headed up to my front door. My mom came out and, at first, shook her head "no." I showed her this precious pooch and she said, "Go out to the backyard. Your dad is out there. Show him the puppy and look up to him with your puppy dog eyes and say, "Please, daddy."
That's what I did. Dad picked up the puppy by the scruff of her neck. He held her up and looked her over really well.
"I guess we'll keep her. She looks like a fine dog."
Looking back now, I know what a gift she was for me. Intuitively, dad knew that. He knew just by looking at her that we would make an awesome pair.
I named her Nicky. My middle name is Nicole, so, I named her after me!
For years, we were a match made in heaven. She was that childhood dog that one never, ever forgets.
I learned that sometimes, even if we're not thrilled to give in to a request to our kids, just do it anyway, within reason. I learned about the love of a dog and what it means to a kid. I learned about unconditional love and that everything and everybody, for the most part, deserves a second chance. I was Nicky's second chance. She made me a very happy little girl.
When I was ten, my dad got a more permanant job in Illinois. The job meant that we would all be together as a family...my parents, two sister and I; however, we would be moving into an apartment in an unfamiliar area. We knew not one single person in our new location. So, ultimately, it meant that my "farming" days were over. I had to find new homes for all of my loves. I was crushed. My sadness was overwhelming and I hurt all over. Even so, I knew it must be done. Knowing that my family would all be together made it worth it...as painful as it was, I knew it was the right thing to do.
I learned that family is everything. Pets are extremely important, too; however, a family sticks together, even in the most difficult times. I learned that parents, as well as children, ache. When they see their children hurt, they hurt even more.
Dad handled all of the rabbits. I'm not sure where they all went; however, Thumper was my responsibility. I asked my mom's dad if he would be willing to take Thumper. He agreed. He lived in the country. Thumper lived there with him for several years. He had complete freedom. There was a wooden ladder leading into his cage, and he could enter and exit as he pleased. Eventually, he was just gone. He was never to be seen again.
We found homes for all of the teddy bear hamsters.
Our fat orange cat, Tiger, went to a family that we knew pretty well. The wife had been one of my sister's teacher. Tiger was a wonderful pet to that family for many years. They fell in love with him and his antics, just as we had. About three years after we moved, my dad sit us all down and said that he had something to tell us. I remember his words exactly.
He said, "A member of our family has died." My mom, sisters and I just stared at him wide-eyed and scared. He told us that Tiger had lived a great life with his new family, but he was hit by a car and he died instantly. All five of us sit there and cried. It had been three years, and even so, we all cried. I believe we weren't just crying due to Tiger's death. We were crying because we had been through a lot. We picked up, left our extended family, left our precious animals, and moved, so that we could all be together as a family, with dad at home with us. A precious piece of our past was gone, and it was heartbreaing.
We drove my ducks, Wacky and Quacky out to a farm. There was a big pond and other animals roaming around. I kept seeing this big dog running freely. Right before we left the farm I distinctly remember saying, "I hope that dog doesn't hurt one of my ducks." Well, he enjoyed not one duck, but both of them.
Last, but certainly not least, was Nicky. I had to find her a home. I loved her so much. My dad's friend told us that his parents had a dog named Nicky that had recently died of old age. We asked if they were interested, and they were. My mom and I went out and bought Nicky a new pink collar and leash so that she would look beautiful when we handed her over to her new owners. I remember the drive as if it were yesterday. I had Nicky's leash and we got out of the car. We walked up to the lady. As I began to hand over the leash, I began sobbing uncontrollably and just ran back to the car. I never looked back. I think I cried for days.
About a year later, I had a dream that something was wrong with Nicky and I pleaded with my mom to call her owner. Sure enough, Nicky had been hit by a car and lost one of her legs. She was managing, though. She ended up living out her last years with them. They would send me pictures of my girl, and I still have them.
What did I learn from all of that? Life is hard, but it is also FABULOUS! I'm sure you've heard the quote, "It's better to have loved and lost, then to never have loved at all." How true that is!
As much as we would love to change things...some things just can't be changed. We have to accept certain things, and then move on.
I learned that kids can grow up with no television, or name brand clothes, or video games, and still thrive!
I learned that sometimes, the things we go through in life that are the most difficult, make us stronger, smarter, and more sensitive to others.
I learned that family is everything. Families must stick together, work together, laugh together, and even cry together.
I learned that children are capeable of work. They need to know that hard work is important. It will not hurt them. It will make them strong and capeable members of society.
Some things in life are just simply unfair. It's just that simple.
I certainly learned the value of a dollar.
On a lighter not, I learned about the breeding habits of rabbits and hamsters. I learned that when rabbits are mating, the male begins to stomp so hard that the noise can be heard from a great distance! I learned that, unfortunatley, sometimes animal mommy's can be more nurturing than human mommys. I can easily tell you every internal organ of a rabbit, show you how to butcher them, skin them, and fry them.
I learned how it feels, as a young girl, to get home and have a wirey-haired black and white mutt be so happy to see you that she couldn't contain herself! The fact that I was home, was all she needed.
I learned that my parents thought I was pretty special to let me learn all of these great things. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything.
**Ten years ago, we took our daughter to an animal shelter. She picked out a skrawny orange kitten. Out of all the names in the world, she named him, Tiger! It was time for us to move to New York. The vet worried about a cat Tiger's age traveling such a distance. So...time to find a home for another cat that we loved so dearly...one named Tiger! Graciously, my parents said, "We'll take Tiger." It was music to my ears. Even if they weren't consciously thinking of it, I believe, in their hearts, they remember very well the pain we all felt when we moved from Kentucky 25 years ago, and had to give our very own Tiger away.
So, now, they are caring for my daughter's cat, Tiger. They are spoiling him rotten, and he is driving them crazy, but they love him, and that's all I need to know!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Days 74-75 Happy Anniversary to the Greatest Man On Earth
I am using my blog today to celebrate my marriage to the greatest man on earth. This Saturday, August 20, we will have been married for 17 years.
What an amazing journey we have taken together! How blessed we are to have found each other in the hallways of Stephen Decatur High School! It had nothing to do with luck or coincidence; my parents began praying for my future spouse when I was just a small child, and God answered their prayers.
I started a new school my sophomore year of high school. I went from a small private school to a large public school. I was overwhelmed and a nervous wreck. I always enjoyed history class because the teacher was so personable. There was a boy in my class that, I could tell, found me attractive. There was no way he could have "liked" me, because we hadn't met, but he definitely stared at me a lot. It was obvious to the teacher as well. She liked to have us work in groups, and she would always smile as she was selecting the groups as she made sure we were in the same group. I had a boyfriend at the time, so I wasn't interested, but this boy in history class certainly began to grow on me.
He told me, yearas later, that he would stand back and watch as I walked down the hall. He can even remember certain outfits that I wore! Honestly, when he tells me these stories, I just can't stop smiling. They're priceless. He said, "One day you were walking down the hall. I was standing with a friend and we were watching you. I told my friend that I was going to marry you someday." Priceless! At that point, I don't even think we had spoken two words to each other!
We became friends. We enjoyed each other's comany immensely. We wanted to spend every waking moment together! We both loved adventure and to "walk on the wild side" a little too much.
Even as friends, he would mention another girl, or hang out with another girl, and I could literally feel my blood boil! Why? He wasn't even my boyfriend but, still, I felt like he was mine! He was the exact same way. One day, junior year, I rode home from school with another boy. It was no big deal...just a ride home from school. Well, it was a big deal to B (my future husband). He came over a few minutes after the boy dropped me off. He asked me why I rode home with him and I replied, "Why not?"
He threw my science book on top of the roof! We still laugh about this story.
Finally, B and I decided we had played enough games. We were going to "go out." In other words, we were going to let the world know that we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend. Life was grand. We were two teenagers in love. Then, a slight problem...
He had told his dad that he would move to Auburn, IL his senior year to play basketball for their team. The time came for him to move, and it was brutal. We didn't have cell phones, texting, facebook, or any of those luxuries. So, after junior year, he moved. He came home as often as he could, but we missed each other terribly. Summertime was ending. We were preparing to enter our senior year of high school. It was a Sunday afternoon, and he was with me and had gone to church with my family that morning. His school was starting the very next day. We were both feeling down.
Out of nowhere he said, "I can't do this."
I said, "What do you mean? You are all registered to start school tomorrow!"
He replied, "I can't. I want to move back. I'm going to go to school here. I need to go talk to my mom I'll call you in a little while."
He left, and I was pacing, nervous, and confused. What in the world was he planning to do?
Well, that night, he was back at my house! He moved home with his mom! Oh, happy day! We were thrilled that we would be starting our senior year together!
School began, and as each day progressed, our love grew. I remember one night sitting with B at my parent's house. We told them that we planned to get married. They said, "That's fine...after college." Well, that wouldn't be a problem! We were already seniors. We'd go to the same college, get our degrees, get married, and the rest would be history. That was our "plan" anyway.
In November of our senior year, I began to feel sick. I was exhausted and would feel sick every morning as I tried to get ready for school. I would get sick again before lunch. By the time I got home from school, all I wanted to do was to go to bed. Finally, it hit me. Could I be pregnant?
I took a test one Saturday afternoon while Brock was at basketball practice. He played varsity basketball at our high school and he was amazing...a natural talent. I loved watching him play ball, and I still do.
Anyway, the test confirmed my greatest fears. I was pregant.
We were 17 and scared, but we already loved the precious baby growing inside of me. Brock assured me that everything would be alright, as he always does, and I believed him, as I always do.
It was tough. We told our families and our friends. We continued to go to school and concentrate on our grades and extracurriculars. It became almost impossible. Brock was still on the basketball team. I would climb to the top of the bleachers, with my growing belly sticking out for the world to see. The glares and stares were hard to accept. Finally, B recieved a bad grade in calculus. His teacher said that he had even been sleeping in class. He was kicked off of the basketball team because of his grade. Our stress level was beginning to rise at an alarming rate.
We decided that we wanted to get married right away. Brock actually had a scholarship to play basketball at a college outside of our city. He knew it wouldn't work out. He knew he would need to go to the community college, so that we could remain close to home and our parents. We needed their guidance. So, he did not accept it. Our baby was due in July. It was important for me to remain on my parent's insurance plan for the baby's birth. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to pay for it all. So, since the baby was due in July, we chose August to get married. August 20 sounded like a splendid wedding date. So, we began making preparations for the our baby's arrival and our wedding day.
Christmas was approaching, which meant a much needed break from school. I was looking very pregnant. I grew fast! I began to dread school because of the whispers, taunts, finger pointing and double-mindedness. I decided it would be best for me to finish up my senior year at the vocational center. I was only 1/2 credit short from graduating. It would just be easier. So, I registered and started right ater Christmas break ended.
Finally, graduation from high school was upon us! A friend told me that at school that day they had their heads measured for their graduation caps. It hit me that I would not be graduating on stage, but I would just go sit in the audience and see B walk across the stage. After school, he came over and I asked him about the graduation information they had received.
He said, "I don't know. I'm not graduating on stage."
"B, just go ahead and do it. You might as well." I said.
He replied, "If you're not, then neither am I."
It was just one more example of B being completely selfless. On graduation night, we went and had a nice dinner out with our parents. We both had our high school diplomas. It was May of 1994 and we were high school grauduates!
(My blog is turning into a novel, so I'm going to try to be brief.)
Yes, we were high school graduates with no money and a baby on the way.
Our precious baby was born on July 1. She was simply out-of-this-world unbelievably perfect and we fell deeply in love with her right away.
Now...to pay for this new little bundle! I called the hospital and asked them if I could set up a payment plan.
The secretary said, "Sure, how much are you planning to pay each month?"
Hesitantly, I replied, "Ten dollars."
To our surprise, she agreed to it! Perfect!
I continued to live at home with my parents after the baby was born, and B slept there on the couch so that he could help in the middle of the night. He started working full-time at a construction site. My dad got him the job. We needed to try to save as much money as possible before the wedding.
August 20, 1994 was a day to remember. It's a day I will always cherish. Brock and I were married! He became my husband, I became his wife, and we had a beautiful seven-week-old daughter. We were a family! Whether we were rich or poor, having good times or bad, or sick or healthy...we promised it was forever.
With very little money, our honeymoon consisted of driving an hour away to Bloomington, IL. We stayed in a hotel there Saturday night and Sunday night. We left at 6AM on Monday morning because B had his very first college class at the community college and it started at 8AM.
The honeymoon was over!
We were living with B's mom. She lived alone and had a three bedroom home, so it was nice to have an affordable (free) and loving place to live. B was in college full-time and working odd jobs. I was staying home with our baby. It was working out; however, we felt we needed to try to find our own place. We applied for government assisted apartments, which means the rent is based on one's income. Finally, we got a letter stating that we had an apartment! So, seven months after we got married, we had our own place. We were thrilled! Everything was falling into place!
For the next four years we lived in our goverment subsidized apartment. At times, Brock would work full-time and attend school part-time, and then he would go back to school full-time and work part-time. He worked so hard to provide for us. He worked in the tire department at Sams Club, he tutored kids in math and he drove a fork lift for awhile. If we would be short on money he would sell his baseball cards, or whatever else we could come up with just to make a few extra bucks. I babysat kids in our apartment. Some days, there would be our daughter plus five or six others running around our small apartment.
Every day we struggled, every day we were tired, and every day we felt hopeless, was just one more step closer to reaching our goals.
Finally, after four years in the apartment, we knew that we needed to do whatever it took to get Brock through school. He needed about one more year of attending full-time and working only part-time in order to get his college degree. We moved back in with Brock's mom for about six months so that we could save every penny. Brock worked, went to school, and finally received an excellent internship with the company that he currently works for. It was a PAID internship! We bagan looking for houses to buy. On our budget, we knew it would'nt be easy, but we were determined.
Graduation day was approaching, Brock found a job, and we had a house! Yes, the location of the house was probably considered "the ghetto," but it was still our house! My husband was a college graduate! He had so much going against him, but he fought through it all. He would not take "no" for an answer.
I saw all of the nights he stayed up the entire night to study for a huge test because he had been working so many hours that he had not had time to study. I saw the times he applied for jobs only to be turned down. I saw every time he didn't know where our next dollar was going to come from. I always saw determination in his eyes. He never gave up. He was mighty.
I began taking classes at the community college. I took our daughter with me to the preschool they offered there. She loved it. During my breaks from classes, I would go get her out of her class and we would have lunch together in the cafeteria or just walk around the campus. They were some of the sweetest times. We would share a coke from the machine, and we were two happy girls.
When she started kindergarten, I had achieved my associate in arts degree and wanted to go on to receive my bachelor's degree in education. My husband was working full-time at his job and helping me achieve my goals now. He would tutor me in my math classes (I am HORRIBLE in math). He would stay up late with me so that I could study. I hate staying up alone. I took day and evening classes, so often times he would be at home alone at night with our daughter as I pursued my degree. It was the longest two years! I wondered if I'd ever get my degree! So often, I just felt like giving up.
B would say, "You've got this! You can do this!" He was right!
I graduated in May of 2002 with a bachelor's degree in secondary education and acquired a job right after graduation in a high school in our city. We were both employed! We were both college graduates!
I can't begin to describe the amount of tears, determination, and frustration those first seven years consisted of. Looking back now, though, we view those years of living in our government subsidized apartment as some of our best. We laughed, cried, learned, grew, and began raising our amazing daughter there. It was filled with so much love.
We were happy the day we were able to move from the "ghetto" to a more regular neighborhood! Our hard work was paying off. We gave God all the glory for it. He always provided for us. He was always there for us. He saw every tear, every smile, every frustrated sigh...He was always taking care of us. Also, much credit must be given to our families. They were our "rocks." They cheered for us! They loved us through each and every difficult moment and triumphant event!
B and I were, and still are, each other's biggest fans. He is my cheerleader and I am his. We were thrilled in the beginning of 2003 when we decided to expand our family to four! We finally had the money and resources to do it! We had even paid off the birth of our daughter! After years of paying $10 per month to the hospital, you can imagine our pride and delight when we were able to just write a check for the balance!
We were on a mission: a baby mission! I was still teaching and our daughter was in fourth grade. After a couple of months of "trying," I became pregnant! We were so thrilled! I took several tests. It was awesome! I felt sick, my breasts hurt so badly...YES! All of the signs were there! I was getting up every morning at 5AM to run before I would get ready to go to work. One morning, a couple of months into my pregnancy, I began my run and I thought to myself, "How strange, my boobs don't hurt." It was an eerie feeling. I went to work, and about halfway throught the day, I starting bleeding...heavily. I knew I was losing the baby. I left work and the doctor tested my pregnancy hormones and confirmed my fear.
B, our daughter and I were devastated. My daughter cried and cried. That night we went to Moncials Pizza and ate ourselves sick and then got Ben and Jerry's ice cream and ate all of it.
The doctor soon gave the go ahead to continue trying to have a baby. Months passed. I was underweight from stress and exercising all of the time. The holidays approached. We enjoyed Thanksgiving and Christmas and all of the food that accompanied them. I put on about seven pounds, and voila...I became pregnant again! I believe my body was healthy and ready to conceive. Nine months later, we became parents for the second time to a son. He was born in September of 2004. My fabulous husband was a daddy again.
He is, without a doubt, the world's greatest dad. (Yes, those t-shirts were designed around him...)
I decided to quit my teaching job and stay at home full-time. My husband is so understanding and considerate. He knew how badly I wanted to stay home with our new baby; however, it was going to be a pay cut! We were going from two salaries back down to one. We decided that we would just cut back in any way possible. We had survived on nothing, so we could definitely make it work on just his salary alone.
We've spent the past six years raising our children, watching them grow, and loving them through life. B continued working and I continued staying home...and working! We always put God first. We pray about the steps we make and the paths we take.
Brock was asked to take the job in NY in October of 2010. We decided to pray about it. My first instinct was to literally scream, "NO!" My family, friends, home, and life was in Illinois.
The more I prayed, the more convinced I was that we were supposed to go. My husband, the love of my life, had been given this amazing opportunity, and he deserved the chance to take it. He has always been there for me. Whether anxiety or depression, physical sickness, or simply daily struggles, he is right next to me, pushing me along, cheering for me, and loving me.
In our 17 years of marriage, I've been fat, skinny, had short hair, long hair, and gone from a cute little teenager to a mother of two in her mid thirties. His love for me has only grown.
The teenage boy that I fell so madly in love with is now a successful, Godly man. He is brilliant. He's the most loving father. He plays his husband role to perfection, and I'm not always easy to please! He listens to me, comforts me, and only wants the best for me. He has my back in any situation. He is my best friend and the most amazing lover. Really, is there a better combination? I don't think so!
From sharing my ice cream cake on my 16th birthday, to this weekend when we'll be celebrating our anniversary with some delicious desserts, the last 17 years of my life have been blessed beyond measure.
The boy of my dreams is now the man of my dreams, and he always will be.
Happy 17th Anniversary, B! You really are my better half.
What an amazing journey we have taken together! How blessed we are to have found each other in the hallways of Stephen Decatur High School! It had nothing to do with luck or coincidence; my parents began praying for my future spouse when I was just a small child, and God answered their prayers.
I started a new school my sophomore year of high school. I went from a small private school to a large public school. I was overwhelmed and a nervous wreck. I always enjoyed history class because the teacher was so personable. There was a boy in my class that, I could tell, found me attractive. There was no way he could have "liked" me, because we hadn't met, but he definitely stared at me a lot. It was obvious to the teacher as well. She liked to have us work in groups, and she would always smile as she was selecting the groups as she made sure we were in the same group. I had a boyfriend at the time, so I wasn't interested, but this boy in history class certainly began to grow on me.
He told me, yearas later, that he would stand back and watch as I walked down the hall. He can even remember certain outfits that I wore! Honestly, when he tells me these stories, I just can't stop smiling. They're priceless. He said, "One day you were walking down the hall. I was standing with a friend and we were watching you. I told my friend that I was going to marry you someday." Priceless! At that point, I don't even think we had spoken two words to each other!
We became friends. We enjoyed each other's comany immensely. We wanted to spend every waking moment together! We both loved adventure and to "walk on the wild side" a little too much.
Even as friends, he would mention another girl, or hang out with another girl, and I could literally feel my blood boil! Why? He wasn't even my boyfriend but, still, I felt like he was mine! He was the exact same way. One day, junior year, I rode home from school with another boy. It was no big deal...just a ride home from school. Well, it was a big deal to B (my future husband). He came over a few minutes after the boy dropped me off. He asked me why I rode home with him and I replied, "Why not?"
He threw my science book on top of the roof! We still laugh about this story.
Finally, B and I decided we had played enough games. We were going to "go out." In other words, we were going to let the world know that we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend. Life was grand. We were two teenagers in love. Then, a slight problem...
He had told his dad that he would move to Auburn, IL his senior year to play basketball for their team. The time came for him to move, and it was brutal. We didn't have cell phones, texting, facebook, or any of those luxuries. So, after junior year, he moved. He came home as often as he could, but we missed each other terribly. Summertime was ending. We were preparing to enter our senior year of high school. It was a Sunday afternoon, and he was with me and had gone to church with my family that morning. His school was starting the very next day. We were both feeling down.
Out of nowhere he said, "I can't do this."
I said, "What do you mean? You are all registered to start school tomorrow!"
He replied, "I can't. I want to move back. I'm going to go to school here. I need to go talk to my mom I'll call you in a little while."
He left, and I was pacing, nervous, and confused. What in the world was he planning to do?
Well, that night, he was back at my house! He moved home with his mom! Oh, happy day! We were thrilled that we would be starting our senior year together!
School began, and as each day progressed, our love grew. I remember one night sitting with B at my parent's house. We told them that we planned to get married. They said, "That's fine...after college." Well, that wouldn't be a problem! We were already seniors. We'd go to the same college, get our degrees, get married, and the rest would be history. That was our "plan" anyway.
In November of our senior year, I began to feel sick. I was exhausted and would feel sick every morning as I tried to get ready for school. I would get sick again before lunch. By the time I got home from school, all I wanted to do was to go to bed. Finally, it hit me. Could I be pregnant?
I took a test one Saturday afternoon while Brock was at basketball practice. He played varsity basketball at our high school and he was amazing...a natural talent. I loved watching him play ball, and I still do.
Anyway, the test confirmed my greatest fears. I was pregant.
We were 17 and scared, but we already loved the precious baby growing inside of me. Brock assured me that everything would be alright, as he always does, and I believed him, as I always do.
It was tough. We told our families and our friends. We continued to go to school and concentrate on our grades and extracurriculars. It became almost impossible. Brock was still on the basketball team. I would climb to the top of the bleachers, with my growing belly sticking out for the world to see. The glares and stares were hard to accept. Finally, B recieved a bad grade in calculus. His teacher said that he had even been sleeping in class. He was kicked off of the basketball team because of his grade. Our stress level was beginning to rise at an alarming rate.
We decided that we wanted to get married right away. Brock actually had a scholarship to play basketball at a college outside of our city. He knew it wouldn't work out. He knew he would need to go to the community college, so that we could remain close to home and our parents. We needed their guidance. So, he did not accept it. Our baby was due in July. It was important for me to remain on my parent's insurance plan for the baby's birth. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been able to pay for it all. So, since the baby was due in July, we chose August to get married. August 20 sounded like a splendid wedding date. So, we began making preparations for the our baby's arrival and our wedding day.
Christmas was approaching, which meant a much needed break from school. I was looking very pregnant. I grew fast! I began to dread school because of the whispers, taunts, finger pointing and double-mindedness. I decided it would be best for me to finish up my senior year at the vocational center. I was only 1/2 credit short from graduating. It would just be easier. So, I registered and started right ater Christmas break ended.
Finally, graduation from high school was upon us! A friend told me that at school that day they had their heads measured for their graduation caps. It hit me that I would not be graduating on stage, but I would just go sit in the audience and see B walk across the stage. After school, he came over and I asked him about the graduation information they had received.
He said, "I don't know. I'm not graduating on stage."
"B, just go ahead and do it. You might as well." I said.
He replied, "If you're not, then neither am I."
It was just one more example of B being completely selfless. On graduation night, we went and had a nice dinner out with our parents. We both had our high school diplomas. It was May of 1994 and we were high school grauduates!
(My blog is turning into a novel, so I'm going to try to be brief.)
Yes, we were high school graduates with no money and a baby on the way.
Our precious baby was born on July 1. She was simply out-of-this-world unbelievably perfect and we fell deeply in love with her right away.
Now...to pay for this new little bundle! I called the hospital and asked them if I could set up a payment plan.
The secretary said, "Sure, how much are you planning to pay each month?"
Hesitantly, I replied, "Ten dollars."
To our surprise, she agreed to it! Perfect!
I continued to live at home with my parents after the baby was born, and B slept there on the couch so that he could help in the middle of the night. He started working full-time at a construction site. My dad got him the job. We needed to try to save as much money as possible before the wedding.
August 20, 1994 was a day to remember. It's a day I will always cherish. Brock and I were married! He became my husband, I became his wife, and we had a beautiful seven-week-old daughter. We were a family! Whether we were rich or poor, having good times or bad, or sick or healthy...we promised it was forever.
With very little money, our honeymoon consisted of driving an hour away to Bloomington, IL. We stayed in a hotel there Saturday night and Sunday night. We left at 6AM on Monday morning because B had his very first college class at the community college and it started at 8AM.
The honeymoon was over!
We were living with B's mom. She lived alone and had a three bedroom home, so it was nice to have an affordable (free) and loving place to live. B was in college full-time and working odd jobs. I was staying home with our baby. It was working out; however, we felt we needed to try to find our own place. We applied for government assisted apartments, which means the rent is based on one's income. Finally, we got a letter stating that we had an apartment! So, seven months after we got married, we had our own place. We were thrilled! Everything was falling into place!
For the next four years we lived in our goverment subsidized apartment. At times, Brock would work full-time and attend school part-time, and then he would go back to school full-time and work part-time. He worked so hard to provide for us. He worked in the tire department at Sams Club, he tutored kids in math and he drove a fork lift for awhile. If we would be short on money he would sell his baseball cards, or whatever else we could come up with just to make a few extra bucks. I babysat kids in our apartment. Some days, there would be our daughter plus five or six others running around our small apartment.
Every day we struggled, every day we were tired, and every day we felt hopeless, was just one more step closer to reaching our goals.
Finally, after four years in the apartment, we knew that we needed to do whatever it took to get Brock through school. He needed about one more year of attending full-time and working only part-time in order to get his college degree. We moved back in with Brock's mom for about six months so that we could save every penny. Brock worked, went to school, and finally received an excellent internship with the company that he currently works for. It was a PAID internship! We bagan looking for houses to buy. On our budget, we knew it would'nt be easy, but we were determined.
Graduation day was approaching, Brock found a job, and we had a house! Yes, the location of the house was probably considered "the ghetto," but it was still our house! My husband was a college graduate! He had so much going against him, but he fought through it all. He would not take "no" for an answer.
I saw all of the nights he stayed up the entire night to study for a huge test because he had been working so many hours that he had not had time to study. I saw the times he applied for jobs only to be turned down. I saw every time he didn't know where our next dollar was going to come from. I always saw determination in his eyes. He never gave up. He was mighty.
I began taking classes at the community college. I took our daughter with me to the preschool they offered there. She loved it. During my breaks from classes, I would go get her out of her class and we would have lunch together in the cafeteria or just walk around the campus. They were some of the sweetest times. We would share a coke from the machine, and we were two happy girls.
When she started kindergarten, I had achieved my associate in arts degree and wanted to go on to receive my bachelor's degree in education. My husband was working full-time at his job and helping me achieve my goals now. He would tutor me in my math classes (I am HORRIBLE in math). He would stay up late with me so that I could study. I hate staying up alone. I took day and evening classes, so often times he would be at home alone at night with our daughter as I pursued my degree. It was the longest two years! I wondered if I'd ever get my degree! So often, I just felt like giving up.
B would say, "You've got this! You can do this!" He was right!
I graduated in May of 2002 with a bachelor's degree in secondary education and acquired a job right after graduation in a high school in our city. We were both employed! We were both college graduates!
I can't begin to describe the amount of tears, determination, and frustration those first seven years consisted of. Looking back now, though, we view those years of living in our government subsidized apartment as some of our best. We laughed, cried, learned, grew, and began raising our amazing daughter there. It was filled with so much love.
We were happy the day we were able to move from the "ghetto" to a more regular neighborhood! Our hard work was paying off. We gave God all the glory for it. He always provided for us. He was always there for us. He saw every tear, every smile, every frustrated sigh...He was always taking care of us. Also, much credit must be given to our families. They were our "rocks." They cheered for us! They loved us through each and every difficult moment and triumphant event!
B and I were, and still are, each other's biggest fans. He is my cheerleader and I am his. We were thrilled in the beginning of 2003 when we decided to expand our family to four! We finally had the money and resources to do it! We had even paid off the birth of our daughter! After years of paying $10 per month to the hospital, you can imagine our pride and delight when we were able to just write a check for the balance!
We were on a mission: a baby mission! I was still teaching and our daughter was in fourth grade. After a couple of months of "trying," I became pregnant! We were so thrilled! I took several tests. It was awesome! I felt sick, my breasts hurt so badly...YES! All of the signs were there! I was getting up every morning at 5AM to run before I would get ready to go to work. One morning, a couple of months into my pregnancy, I began my run and I thought to myself, "How strange, my boobs don't hurt." It was an eerie feeling. I went to work, and about halfway throught the day, I starting bleeding...heavily. I knew I was losing the baby. I left work and the doctor tested my pregnancy hormones and confirmed my fear.
B, our daughter and I were devastated. My daughter cried and cried. That night we went to Moncials Pizza and ate ourselves sick and then got Ben and Jerry's ice cream and ate all of it.
The doctor soon gave the go ahead to continue trying to have a baby. Months passed. I was underweight from stress and exercising all of the time. The holidays approached. We enjoyed Thanksgiving and Christmas and all of the food that accompanied them. I put on about seven pounds, and voila...I became pregnant again! I believe my body was healthy and ready to conceive. Nine months later, we became parents for the second time to a son. He was born in September of 2004. My fabulous husband was a daddy again.
He is, without a doubt, the world's greatest dad. (Yes, those t-shirts were designed around him...)
I decided to quit my teaching job and stay at home full-time. My husband is so understanding and considerate. He knew how badly I wanted to stay home with our new baby; however, it was going to be a pay cut! We were going from two salaries back down to one. We decided that we would just cut back in any way possible. We had survived on nothing, so we could definitely make it work on just his salary alone.
We've spent the past six years raising our children, watching them grow, and loving them through life. B continued working and I continued staying home...and working! We always put God first. We pray about the steps we make and the paths we take.
Brock was asked to take the job in NY in October of 2010. We decided to pray about it. My first instinct was to literally scream, "NO!" My family, friends, home, and life was in Illinois.
The more I prayed, the more convinced I was that we were supposed to go. My husband, the love of my life, had been given this amazing opportunity, and he deserved the chance to take it. He has always been there for me. Whether anxiety or depression, physical sickness, or simply daily struggles, he is right next to me, pushing me along, cheering for me, and loving me.
In our 17 years of marriage, I've been fat, skinny, had short hair, long hair, and gone from a cute little teenager to a mother of two in her mid thirties. His love for me has only grown.
The teenage boy that I fell so madly in love with is now a successful, Godly man. He is brilliant. He's the most loving father. He plays his husband role to perfection, and I'm not always easy to please! He listens to me, comforts me, and only wants the best for me. He has my back in any situation. He is my best friend and the most amazing lover. Really, is there a better combination? I don't think so!
From sharing my ice cream cake on my 16th birthday, to this weekend when we'll be celebrating our anniversary with some delicious desserts, the last 17 years of my life have been blessed beyond measure.
The boy of my dreams is now the man of my dreams, and he always will be.
Happy 17th Anniversary, B! You really are my better half.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Days 70-73 No More Meltdowns...
Recently, I blogged about "attitude." How one chooses to reacts to a situation is key. It is all about attitude. Our attitude is one of the few things that we can actually control.
This is something I have to work on every single day. My dad used to say, "Heather, you need an attitude adjustment!" He was usually right.
I've actually had to say that to myself several times throughout the past few days.
My husband came home from work on Friday and I was having a meltdown. You may wonder what exactly a meltdown is. Well, it's when I am crying so hard that one can't really even understand what I am saying as I try to talk through the tears. He kept trying to figure out what was wrong with me. He wanted to know why I was crying. He was trying to fix it.
A couple of things had happened that day, and neither warranted a meltdown. I left the house only two times on Friday, and both times I had individuals treating me very rudely. They treated me in a way that made me want to look them in the eye and say, "How dare you? I am struggling here. Why on earth would you treat me this way when you don't even know me?"
In Illinois, this behavior would not have bothered me. I would have either laughed it off, or fought back. Then, it would have quickly been forgotten.
Why the difference?
I've said this before, but I have to say it again: I am completely out of my comfort zone! Everything is still unfamiliar. I have lived here for two months. I lived in Illinois for 25 years. Obviously, I am more comfortable in Illinois. Sometimes I just long for everything familiar. I ache for it.
I become very attached to "things." For example, I was born in Kentucky and lived there until I was ten-years-old. Even now, 25 years later, every time we visit Kentucky I have to drive past our old house. I drive by really slowly and try to look in the windows...creepy, huh? I loved that house! I remember the way it smelled, the games we played there, and the pets I cared for there. That house just brings me joy. I smile when I drive by. It's comforting. That's why I love driving by my childhood home during each visit to Kentucky.
Our house in Illinois recently sold. It's no longer my home. For the most part, I am thrilled that our house sold! We won't have to pay the mortgage there anymore, or the power bill, or lawn care, etc...Praise the Lord! We have been praying for the house to sell since before our move, and now it has! So, what is my problem with it? Well, selfishly, I fell in love with that house as well. We worked so hard to make that house a home. We picked out the perfect color for the walls, had so many laughs and also had some tears there. We celebrated birthdays, births, graduations, holidays and many milestones in that home. We had our family and friends over for food and fun in that house.
Now, it doesn't belong to us anymore.
Of course, when we go to Illinois in December, I will drive past that house, slowly, and smile. It will feel familiar, comfortable and warm. I look forward to it.
I've been told that it takes a year to adjust to a big move. Some days, I feel like I have lived here for years. Other days, I feel like an alien on a strange planet. I daydream about my hometown. I seriously crave everything that was familiar to me. I look through photo albums and I'll see pictures of the house that just sold, and I just stare at the picture as if it were another lifetime.
I need to change my attitude, and when I begin to have these feelings, I have to be brave and calm. I believe it is completely normal to experience the feelings and emotions that I am experiencing. It is okay to miss my old house, my old comfort zone, and everything familiar that Illinois offered me. I can't let it get to the meltdown point, though. I need to get to the point where I let myself be sad about what "was," and then move on and be happy about what "is." I am blessed and I know that.
I am just still getting used to all of the "new." I've never been great at change, but I am sure learning now!
On a lighter note: About a month or so ago, I blogged regarding going to the grocery store and never seeing a single person that I know. I love people, so not knowing anyone is very frustrating and, at times, lonley. Today was different!
I was coming out of the grocery store with a cart full of groceries. I was wearing a denim dress. The dress had quarter length sleeves with a V neck, which led to five buttons. I looked over to my right, and I thought, "That man looks so familiar." He was looking at me the same way. As soon as it became a little uncomfortable, he said, "Hey!" He started walking over to me and I was right! I knew him! It was the pastor of the very first church we visited. He has a son that is my son's age, and they became quick friends. The boys have played together a few times since we've moved here.
We had a nice conversation surrounding the start of school and getting our boys together for another play date. It was such a nice conversation and I smiled and as I turned away I said, "OK, I'll call you soon and we'll set up a day for the boys to play!" I began walking to the van. I happened to look down, and to my horror I realized that the top button on my dress was unbuttoned. Remember, the top button is already placed well under the V neck of the dress, therefore, my bra was completely exposed. Seriously, it looked like I was trying to put on a show...a very small show, but still a show! OMGoodness! I got in my van, looked in the mirror, and my face was so red. I could have cried.
Instead, I laughed and called my husband. He said, "Oh, Heather!" Then, he laughed hysterically.
I can't rush myself. I have to take my time and adjust. Total adjustment will happen; I have no doubt. Until then, I will really try to give myself permission to be sad for awhile when I miss the familiar people, places and things from back home. On the other hand, I will give myself the attitude adjustment I need when my "missing home" turns into a pity party.
And...I'll be sure to keep my top button buttoned.
This is something I have to work on every single day. My dad used to say, "Heather, you need an attitude adjustment!" He was usually right.
I've actually had to say that to myself several times throughout the past few days.
My husband came home from work on Friday and I was having a meltdown. You may wonder what exactly a meltdown is. Well, it's when I am crying so hard that one can't really even understand what I am saying as I try to talk through the tears. He kept trying to figure out what was wrong with me. He wanted to know why I was crying. He was trying to fix it.
A couple of things had happened that day, and neither warranted a meltdown. I left the house only two times on Friday, and both times I had individuals treating me very rudely. They treated me in a way that made me want to look them in the eye and say, "How dare you? I am struggling here. Why on earth would you treat me this way when you don't even know me?"
In Illinois, this behavior would not have bothered me. I would have either laughed it off, or fought back. Then, it would have quickly been forgotten.
Why the difference?
I've said this before, but I have to say it again: I am completely out of my comfort zone! Everything is still unfamiliar. I have lived here for two months. I lived in Illinois for 25 years. Obviously, I am more comfortable in Illinois. Sometimes I just long for everything familiar. I ache for it.
I become very attached to "things." For example, I was born in Kentucky and lived there until I was ten-years-old. Even now, 25 years later, every time we visit Kentucky I have to drive past our old house. I drive by really slowly and try to look in the windows...creepy, huh? I loved that house! I remember the way it smelled, the games we played there, and the pets I cared for there. That house just brings me joy. I smile when I drive by. It's comforting. That's why I love driving by my childhood home during each visit to Kentucky.
Our house in Illinois recently sold. It's no longer my home. For the most part, I am thrilled that our house sold! We won't have to pay the mortgage there anymore, or the power bill, or lawn care, etc...Praise the Lord! We have been praying for the house to sell since before our move, and now it has! So, what is my problem with it? Well, selfishly, I fell in love with that house as well. We worked so hard to make that house a home. We picked out the perfect color for the walls, had so many laughs and also had some tears there. We celebrated birthdays, births, graduations, holidays and many milestones in that home. We had our family and friends over for food and fun in that house.
Now, it doesn't belong to us anymore.
Of course, when we go to Illinois in December, I will drive past that house, slowly, and smile. It will feel familiar, comfortable and warm. I look forward to it.
I've been told that it takes a year to adjust to a big move. Some days, I feel like I have lived here for years. Other days, I feel like an alien on a strange planet. I daydream about my hometown. I seriously crave everything that was familiar to me. I look through photo albums and I'll see pictures of the house that just sold, and I just stare at the picture as if it were another lifetime.
I need to change my attitude, and when I begin to have these feelings, I have to be brave and calm. I believe it is completely normal to experience the feelings and emotions that I am experiencing. It is okay to miss my old house, my old comfort zone, and everything familiar that Illinois offered me. I can't let it get to the meltdown point, though. I need to get to the point where I let myself be sad about what "was," and then move on and be happy about what "is." I am blessed and I know that.
I am just still getting used to all of the "new." I've never been great at change, but I am sure learning now!
On a lighter note: About a month or so ago, I blogged regarding going to the grocery store and never seeing a single person that I know. I love people, so not knowing anyone is very frustrating and, at times, lonley. Today was different!
I was coming out of the grocery store with a cart full of groceries. I was wearing a denim dress. The dress had quarter length sleeves with a V neck, which led to five buttons. I looked over to my right, and I thought, "That man looks so familiar." He was looking at me the same way. As soon as it became a little uncomfortable, he said, "Hey!" He started walking over to me and I was right! I knew him! It was the pastor of the very first church we visited. He has a son that is my son's age, and they became quick friends. The boys have played together a few times since we've moved here.
We had a nice conversation surrounding the start of school and getting our boys together for another play date. It was such a nice conversation and I smiled and as I turned away I said, "OK, I'll call you soon and we'll set up a day for the boys to play!" I began walking to the van. I happened to look down, and to my horror I realized that the top button on my dress was unbuttoned. Remember, the top button is already placed well under the V neck of the dress, therefore, my bra was completely exposed. Seriously, it looked like I was trying to put on a show...a very small show, but still a show! OMGoodness! I got in my van, looked in the mirror, and my face was so red. I could have cried.
Instead, I laughed and called my husband. He said, "Oh, Heather!" Then, he laughed hysterically.
I can't rush myself. I have to take my time and adjust. Total adjustment will happen; I have no doubt. Until then, I will really try to give myself permission to be sad for awhile when I miss the familiar people, places and things from back home. On the other hand, I will give myself the attitude adjustment I need when my "missing home" turns into a pity party.
And...I'll be sure to keep my top button buttoned.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Days 67-69 Just Dance!
Yesterday was an exciting day for me. It wasn't because I got my nails done, or found a great deal on a super cute pair of high heels. The reason was simple: The GOP debate was coming on, and I couldn't wait to watch it.
Just thinking of all the hopeful candidates lined up on the stage, all looking their best and completely studied up on one another, sends a shiver of excitement through my entire body. It isn't a matter of right, left, independent, male or female. I just thoroughly enjoy a good debate. It thrills me to listen to each candidate's views on topics that are important to this great nation.
My husband got home from work and I was cooking dinner. My husband and son started a game of Monopoly and my daugter was at the dining room table pulling up songs that she likes on her laptop. My mood was one of enthusiasm because I knew that after dinner I'd pull out some snacks and we'd sit down and get to know the candidates a little better.
As my daughter is playing music, I began to dance. I was totally bustin' a move in the kitchen as I stirred the meal. I was doing what my daughter described as the "sexy funky chicken" while adding spices to the chicken. I was performing all of my 80's moves to perfection. My daughter was screaming with laughter. My husband and son came in. My husband smiled and my son just sort of stares at me wide-eyed, like, "Oh, mom!"
Although my daugter was begging me to stop, she joined in a few times. Right before dinner was ready, I broke out my air guitar. It was brilliant! My son loved it.
We began to eat. Honestly, it was horrible. I looked up from my plate and saw my husband taking tiny bites with a, "How can I get out of eating this?" look on his face. My son just looked at me and said, "Mom, I sure do like your broccoli." He always finds the sweetness in not-so-sweet situations. I noticed my daughter didn't even have a plate. She said, "I had a snack after work so I'm not very hungry." She was the only smart one.
We finished quickly. We did't exactly finish our food, but we finished our dinnertime. My family walked away from the table, still hungry! I asked my husband, "Do you think that was gross?" He said, "Oh no! Maybe just bland." I said, "Please! I can do bland, but I can't do gross, and that was just gross!" He smiled. He's a smart man.
I'm not a great cook, and everyone knows that. I have been known to follow a recipe with exact precision, and the meal still doesn't taste right! The "cooking gene" just somehow missed me. I've learned to accept that.
Although our food was horrible, and we left the table hungry, all was still very well in our home. We all had smiles on our faces.
One things for sure: My family won't remember the night I served them a meal that wasn't fit for human consumption, but they WILL remember me dancing in the kitchen.
Just thinking of all the hopeful candidates lined up on the stage, all looking their best and completely studied up on one another, sends a shiver of excitement through my entire body. It isn't a matter of right, left, independent, male or female. I just thoroughly enjoy a good debate. It thrills me to listen to each candidate's views on topics that are important to this great nation.
My husband got home from work and I was cooking dinner. My husband and son started a game of Monopoly and my daugter was at the dining room table pulling up songs that she likes on her laptop. My mood was one of enthusiasm because I knew that after dinner I'd pull out some snacks and we'd sit down and get to know the candidates a little better.
As my daughter is playing music, I began to dance. I was totally bustin' a move in the kitchen as I stirred the meal. I was doing what my daughter described as the "sexy funky chicken" while adding spices to the chicken. I was performing all of my 80's moves to perfection. My daughter was screaming with laughter. My husband and son came in. My husband smiled and my son just sort of stares at me wide-eyed, like, "Oh, mom!"
Although my daugter was begging me to stop, she joined in a few times. Right before dinner was ready, I broke out my air guitar. It was brilliant! My son loved it.
We began to eat. Honestly, it was horrible. I looked up from my plate and saw my husband taking tiny bites with a, "How can I get out of eating this?" look on his face. My son just looked at me and said, "Mom, I sure do like your broccoli." He always finds the sweetness in not-so-sweet situations. I noticed my daughter didn't even have a plate. She said, "I had a snack after work so I'm not very hungry." She was the only smart one.
We finished quickly. We did't exactly finish our food, but we finished our dinnertime. My family walked away from the table, still hungry! I asked my husband, "Do you think that was gross?" He said, "Oh no! Maybe just bland." I said, "Please! I can do bland, but I can't do gross, and that was just gross!" He smiled. He's a smart man.
I'm not a great cook, and everyone knows that. I have been known to follow a recipe with exact precision, and the meal still doesn't taste right! The "cooking gene" just somehow missed me. I've learned to accept that.
Although our food was horrible, and we left the table hungry, all was still very well in our home. We all had smiles on our faces.
One things for sure: My family won't remember the night I served them a meal that wasn't fit for human consumption, but they WILL remember me dancing in the kitchen.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Day 66--This day has gone to the ducks.
We started out with good intentions. Our good intentions have turned into a big mess...literally.
We have a small pond on our property. It's probably about 70 yards from our house. It is home to some tiny fish, huge bullfrogs, and a pretty good sized snapping turtle. It is also home to a momma duck and her seven ducklings.
We were thrilled when the ducklings arrived! They were so tiny and they followed the mother duck around in a single file line. She watched over them so carefully. She was always alert. She never let her guard down.
We decided it would be a great idea to feed them. So, we did! Each day, sometimes several times a day, one of us would walk down to the pond and feed the ducks. They were so leery of us at first. That didn't last long. Soon, they began to swim toward us each time they saw us coming.
The ducklings began to grow.
We enjoyed watching them mature. They began to wander a few feet away from their mother. They didn't watch her for every cue. Before long, it was difficult to distinguish between the momma and her babies! They were all the same size! Still, every time they would leave the comfort of the pond, she would lead and they would follow...in the adorable single file line.
One day, a couple of weeks ago, I woke up early and noticed that the ducks were in our swimming pool. The weather had been dreadfully hot and humid. I'm sure the small pond became warm and muggy, and the pool felt refreshing. The sight of them swimming around in the pool made me laugh out loud. Before long, they waddled out of the pool area and back down to the pond.
I didn't think much about it after that. We, of course, continued to feed them. They began to come up to the front yard. I am an animal lover, so, I was always thrilled when I'd pull in my driveway and find the family of ducks hanging out close to our house. They began to take food directly from our hands.
By now, the ducks are very large. No wonder! They eat very well!
We have a small pond on our property. It's probably about 70 yards from our house. It is home to some tiny fish, huge bullfrogs, and a pretty good sized snapping turtle. It is also home to a momma duck and her seven ducklings.
We were thrilled when the ducklings arrived! They were so tiny and they followed the mother duck around in a single file line. She watched over them so carefully. She was always alert. She never let her guard down.
We decided it would be a great idea to feed them. So, we did! Each day, sometimes several times a day, one of us would walk down to the pond and feed the ducks. They were so leery of us at first. That didn't last long. Soon, they began to swim toward us each time they saw us coming.
The ducklings began to grow.
We enjoyed watching them mature. They began to wander a few feet away from their mother. They didn't watch her for every cue. Before long, it was difficult to distinguish between the momma and her babies! They were all the same size! Still, every time they would leave the comfort of the pond, she would lead and they would follow...in the adorable single file line.
One day, a couple of weeks ago, I woke up early and noticed that the ducks were in our swimming pool. The weather had been dreadfully hot and humid. I'm sure the small pond became warm and muggy, and the pool felt refreshing. The sight of them swimming around in the pool made me laugh out loud. Before long, they waddled out of the pool area and back down to the pond.
I didn't think much about it after that. We, of course, continued to feed them. They began to come up to the front yard. I am an animal lover, so, I was always thrilled when I'd pull in my driveway and find the family of ducks hanging out close to our house. They began to take food directly from our hands.
By now, the ducks are very large. No wonder! They eat very well!
Life for our duck family was grand! Then, a problem developed.
The ducks took over our pool.
They were no longer satisfied with a quick dip in the morning; they decided to take up residence in our pool. They said "Goodbye" to their small pond and "Hello!" to our refreshing pool.
This is when the day went to the ducks.
When we try to go for a swim they won't leave! We refuse to swim in our pool with eight large ducks! We try to scare them out of the fence, and they are very hesitant to leave. Finally, we get them outside of the fence, but they stand there, in a line, staring at us. As soon as we relax, even for a few minutes, they waddle back in and jump in the pool!
It's just not adorable anymore. I never realized how often ducks poop! GROSS!
We put up chicken wire fencing in the ground surrounding the entire fence. The chicken wire is about five feet tall.
Problem solved...right??
Wrong! It stormed all day today. Every time I looked out the window, I felt accomplished because it was duck-free. Then, around 4PM, I noticed the ducks making their way from the pond to the pool. It was pouring down rain and I thought, "Well, maybe they are just searching for shelter."
Obviously, I know nothing about ducks.
They approached our pool. They began walking around it, almost in a panic. My windows were open and I could hear them quacking. I'm sure they were cussing me out in duck language. They were determined to find a way through the fence and into our swimming pool.
I continued to watch.
All of the sudden, one of the ducks flew over the fence. Two more followed. Within ten seconds, all eight ducks were cheerfully swimming in our pool. I felt like they were staring at me, through the heavy rain, and thinking1, "We shooooooowed YOU!"
I went out and worked, feverishly, to get the little critters out of the pool and back to the pond. They just kept swimming! They knew I wasn't coming in! I grabbed the long net and began trying to "fish" them out. Annoyed, they got out of the pool. Then, I had to chase them around the pool toward the gate. I must've looked like a total idiot!
There I was, out in the rain, running around the pool with a nine foot net in my hands screaming at eight ducks to, "Go back to the pond before I kill you all!"
The ducks slowly made their way back to the pond. Seriously, we are searching for another option. We have about three weeks left of summer and our pool has been taken over by ducks, their feathers, their poop, and their arrogant attitudes!
When is duck season?
Monday, August 8, 2011
Days 63-65: I'm starting to believe that attitude really is everything.
Often times, my attitude reflects my current circumstance. That is quite the opposite of my husband. He is the "happy go lucky" type. When he comes home from work each day, unless I ask, I have no idea how good or bad his day at work was. He comes home smiling, regardless of the type of day he had.
I, on the other hand, am sort of like a roller coaster ride. I don't like admitting this fact. When negativity occurs throughout the day, one can tell just by my attitude. When my day is relatively smooth, one can easily see that as well. When my husband comes home from work each day with a smile on his face, he knows as soon as he looks at me how my day was.
Several months ago I asked him how he manages to keep a positive attitude regardless of his circumstance. He explained it in such a wonderful way. It almost left me speechless...almost!
He said, "Heather, two different people can have the exact same things happen to them throughout their day. At the end of the day, person A reports that his or her day was just fine. Person B, however, reports that his or her day was awful. Remember, the exact same events happened to both individuals.
Then my husband explained, "Person A reports a good day simply because nothing really bad happened. Person B reports a bad day simply because nothing really good happened."
This all made perfect sense to me.
He explained, "If bad things happen during the day, I choose to focus on anything good that has happened, and when good things happen, I remain focused on them and refuse to dwell on anything negative that might have happened."
Wow! That makes so much sense to me and sounds so easy! I decided to give it a try, and I failed rather quickly. Why is that hard for me? Yes, some days aren't easy, especially since our move. I am experiencing certain emotions that I didn't even realize existed within me. With that being said, none of my days are horrible. I am very well aware of that. Some of them aren't ideal, but none are bad.
I have to "check" my attitude. I have noticed that if I have a difficult day, but I remain positive in my attitude, it seems as if the whole situation turns around. It really is all about attitude!
I heard a story once and I think about it when I'm in the middle of a bad attitude.
There was a man who lived in a nursing home. He had been there for many years. He resided in a small, simple room. His bed was by the window. Throughout his years in the nursing home, he shared his space with many roomates. One day, a new roomate arrived. The man was blind. The men became instant friends. Every morning, the blind man would ask his friend to describe the weather to him. What did the sky look like? Were the flowers blooming? What color were they?
He would ask the same questions in the afternoon, and then he would ask him to describe the night sky; this happened every single day.
The man whose bed was by the window beautifully described what he saw each day. He would describe shapes in the clouds, pristine rainbows, dark storm clouds, full moons, falling stars, and a huge fountain right outside the window.
The blind man had no family. He was never known to have a visitor. Much of his excitement and zest for life was solely due to the nature updates he was given several times a day from his friend. He looked forward to them as soon as he opened his eyes each morning and was able to close his eyes each night only after having the moon and stars described to him in the most magnifient details.
The man who provided the details was very old and sick. His illness began to progress rapidly. One night, after detailing how miraculous the Big Dipper was that particular evening in the night sky, the man passed away.
Two nurses came into the room in the morning and began collecting his things and cleaning the room. The blind man asked quietly, "Nurse, will you please tell me what it looks like outside today? Is it sunny? Have they turned the fountain on yet?"
One nurse looked at the other. They were puzzled.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
The blind man told the nurses everything. He explained how his friend allowed him to be a part of the world by telling him, several times per day, what he was observing outside.
"Please, just tell me what you see when you look out the window." he asked.
The nurses were silent. One nurse, through her tears, said, "Sir, you certainly had a wonderful friend. There is concrete behind this window. Every time your friend looked out, all he was able to see was a gray slab of concrete."
Attitude! One positive attitude encourages another positive attitude. The man by the window could have easily been bitter and his attitude could have reflected that. In choosing to behave that way, he would have been of no service to the world and people around him.
I choose to have a good attitude no matter what. There are really very few things in life that warrant a horrible attitude. It's taken me years to "get" this, but I am now a firm believer that we choose our attitude. It's a choice. It is something, one of the very few things, that we have complete control over.
Yes, I am starting to believe that attitude really is everything!
I, on the other hand, am sort of like a roller coaster ride. I don't like admitting this fact. When negativity occurs throughout the day, one can tell just by my attitude. When my day is relatively smooth, one can easily see that as well. When my husband comes home from work each day with a smile on his face, he knows as soon as he looks at me how my day was.
Several months ago I asked him how he manages to keep a positive attitude regardless of his circumstance. He explained it in such a wonderful way. It almost left me speechless...almost!
He said, "Heather, two different people can have the exact same things happen to them throughout their day. At the end of the day, person A reports that his or her day was just fine. Person B, however, reports that his or her day was awful. Remember, the exact same events happened to both individuals.
Then my husband explained, "Person A reports a good day simply because nothing really bad happened. Person B reports a bad day simply because nothing really good happened."
This all made perfect sense to me.
He explained, "If bad things happen during the day, I choose to focus on anything good that has happened, and when good things happen, I remain focused on them and refuse to dwell on anything negative that might have happened."
Wow! That makes so much sense to me and sounds so easy! I decided to give it a try, and I failed rather quickly. Why is that hard for me? Yes, some days aren't easy, especially since our move. I am experiencing certain emotions that I didn't even realize existed within me. With that being said, none of my days are horrible. I am very well aware of that. Some of them aren't ideal, but none are bad.
I have to "check" my attitude. I have noticed that if I have a difficult day, but I remain positive in my attitude, it seems as if the whole situation turns around. It really is all about attitude!
I heard a story once and I think about it when I'm in the middle of a bad attitude.
There was a man who lived in a nursing home. He had been there for many years. He resided in a small, simple room. His bed was by the window. Throughout his years in the nursing home, he shared his space with many roomates. One day, a new roomate arrived. The man was blind. The men became instant friends. Every morning, the blind man would ask his friend to describe the weather to him. What did the sky look like? Were the flowers blooming? What color were they?
He would ask the same questions in the afternoon, and then he would ask him to describe the night sky; this happened every single day.
The man whose bed was by the window beautifully described what he saw each day. He would describe shapes in the clouds, pristine rainbows, dark storm clouds, full moons, falling stars, and a huge fountain right outside the window.
The blind man had no family. He was never known to have a visitor. Much of his excitement and zest for life was solely due to the nature updates he was given several times a day from his friend. He looked forward to them as soon as he opened his eyes each morning and was able to close his eyes each night only after having the moon and stars described to him in the most magnifient details.
The man who provided the details was very old and sick. His illness began to progress rapidly. One night, after detailing how miraculous the Big Dipper was that particular evening in the night sky, the man passed away.
Two nurses came into the room in the morning and began collecting his things and cleaning the room. The blind man asked quietly, "Nurse, will you please tell me what it looks like outside today? Is it sunny? Have they turned the fountain on yet?"
One nurse looked at the other. They were puzzled.
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
The blind man told the nurses everything. He explained how his friend allowed him to be a part of the world by telling him, several times per day, what he was observing outside.
"Please, just tell me what you see when you look out the window." he asked.
The nurses were silent. One nurse, through her tears, said, "Sir, you certainly had a wonderful friend. There is concrete behind this window. Every time your friend looked out, all he was able to see was a gray slab of concrete."
Attitude! One positive attitude encourages another positive attitude. The man by the window could have easily been bitter and his attitude could have reflected that. In choosing to behave that way, he would have been of no service to the world and people around him.
I choose to have a good attitude no matter what. There are really very few things in life that warrant a horrible attitude. It's taken me years to "get" this, but I am now a firm believer that we choose our attitude. It's a choice. It is something, one of the very few things, that we have complete control over.
Yes, I am starting to believe that attitude really is everything!
Friday, August 5, 2011
Day 62
Today, S&P downgrades U.S. credit rating from AAA to AA+.
What will Washington do to tackle our monster debt problem?
The 14 trillion dollar debt keeps increasing, it seems, by the minute.
I have to be informed. I don't like to have my "head in the sand." Even so, I may boycott the news...just for the weekend.
What will Washington do to tackle our monster debt problem?
The 14 trillion dollar debt keeps increasing, it seems, by the minute.
I have to be informed. I don't like to have my "head in the sand." Even so, I may boycott the news...just for the weekend.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Day 61--Decatur...Go Get Your Groove On!
Well, it's that time of year again: It's time for the Decatur Celebration!
I know most of you are asking, "What is the Decatur Celebration (DC)?" To that, I have to proclaim that it is a super awesome way to hear dynamic concerts free of charge, eat delicious and calorie-packed fair food, and see people from all over Illinois and beyond! I love the Decatur Celebration!
I moved to Decatur, Illinois at the age of ten. Several years after, I went to my first Decatur Celebration. I was hooked! I've been to many fairs and carnivals throughout my life, but this beats them all. This is the largest free street festival in the midwest! Twenty-two blocks are sectioned off so that the fun can begin! Typically, the Decatur Celebration has approximately 300,000 in attendance througout the course of the Thursday-Sunday that it runs.
Some people think the DC is boring. Some call it the "White Trash Bash." Others believe it's just too crowded. To all of that, I say, "NO WAY! Put me smack dab in the middle of that crowd and let me socialize!"
If I were in Decatur tonight instead of NY I would be there. Tonight is the Family Fun Carnival Night. The rides are discounted and we love to ride rides. Thursday nights don't bring in huge crowds, so it's a nice night to take the kids and let them eat junk food and enjoy some thrilling rides.
As a teenager, I wouldn't have missed the DC for anything! I would go with friends and we would meet boys and listen to music and ride the rides and just have a ball. I'd tease my hair all up and put on a little extra eyeliner. I'm not embarassed to say that I would spend hours, literally, shopping for the perfect DC outfits. I can still remember a few of them. One in particular, was a pair of short denim shorts with a red and black plaid ruffle around the bottom of each leg. It had a short-sleeved button up white shirt. The shirt had a bit of the plaid on it as well, and it tied in the front. Now that I think about it, the shorts were on the short side for sure, and I'm surprised I was let out the house like that. Nevertheless, I was, and I was sure cool that night!
I never let anything stop me from attending this fabulous celebration. When I was 16 I had all four wisdom teeth cut out. I was on pain meds and I resembled a chipmunk. My face was bruised. It wasn't my best look. So, I just worked on my hair to make it extra big and fluffy and put on my most awesome outfit picked out just for the DC, and that was that! Problem solved!
Last year, at this time, I had a huge kidney stone. It was the second largest that the hospital had seen in ten years! My right kidney was completely blocked. The doctors put a stent in and I ended up with a terrible fever and infection. Finally, I switched hospitals and doctors and I had lithotripsy surgery. I was hurting! I felt like I had been run over by a truck and then left there. It was DC time! What was I to do? There was only one solution: Take the vicodin my amazing doctor prescribed and GO!
I love live music! Throughout the years I have enjoyed some super rad bands. I have so many favorites! I was actually was able to meet the Nelson brothers after the show and get their autograph. I melted when they sang, "After the Rain!" Two years ago I went with my sister to see the Plain White T's. We were standing in the street with thousands of others singing "Hey There Delilah" at the top of our lungs. Little did we know what was in store for us!
My daughter called and told us that she was going to try to meet The Plain White T's. We figured it would never happen, but we should at least try. The concert ended and the masses started to hustle away to find drinks and funnel cakes. We made our way up to the front. All of the sudden, we saw one of the band members...the lead singer, Tim! Oh my!
He went and got the others! We hung out with them for awhile. They signed autographs for us and we took pictures with them. We felt like teenagers again!
Last year, I laughed until I peed my pants with my sister while we jammed in the streets as MC Hammer rocked "U Can't Touch This" and "Too Legit to Quit!"
This year's live music includes Night Ranger, Tiffany, Digital Underground, Rob Base and Downhere! Come on people! If you don't go, do you see what you're missing? Do you know the DC is where I tasted and loved my very first deep fried twinkie??
I am really missing my best friend LA right now. We go together every single year. We head down in the evening ready to meet and greet! She is usually looking super fly in ripped up jeans and hair that's teased just right on the top. I am almost always in heels that hurt my feet so badly that by the time I leave the DC my feet are literally unrecognizeable. I'm usually barefoot by the time we walk to the car.
Last week I began to wonder...Who will LA go with this year? She called me and informed me that she was taking her family to St. Louis for the weekend. She wasn't even going to bother going. Our tradition has ended, and it makes me sad.
What will I miss the most about the good ol' DC? The people, of course! There was nothing I enojoyed more than roaming the busy streets of Decatur and running into peeps that I haven't seen in ten years or more! It was like a huge reunion that I was able to be a part of year after year!
Some like it; some hate it. I'm a fan and I always will be! Go out and celebrate this weekend, Decatur! Put your cute clothes on, do your hair all up, and go have a great time!
Push and shove your way up to the front row like you own the place and sing along with Tiffany as she performs, "I Think We're Alone Now."
Oh, and have a deep friend twinkie for me!
I know most of you are asking, "What is the Decatur Celebration (DC)?" To that, I have to proclaim that it is a super awesome way to hear dynamic concerts free of charge, eat delicious and calorie-packed fair food, and see people from all over Illinois and beyond! I love the Decatur Celebration!
I moved to Decatur, Illinois at the age of ten. Several years after, I went to my first Decatur Celebration. I was hooked! I've been to many fairs and carnivals throughout my life, but this beats them all. This is the largest free street festival in the midwest! Twenty-two blocks are sectioned off so that the fun can begin! Typically, the Decatur Celebration has approximately 300,000 in attendance througout the course of the Thursday-Sunday that it runs.
Some people think the DC is boring. Some call it the "White Trash Bash." Others believe it's just too crowded. To all of that, I say, "NO WAY! Put me smack dab in the middle of that crowd and let me socialize!"
If I were in Decatur tonight instead of NY I would be there. Tonight is the Family Fun Carnival Night. The rides are discounted and we love to ride rides. Thursday nights don't bring in huge crowds, so it's a nice night to take the kids and let them eat junk food and enjoy some thrilling rides.
As a teenager, I wouldn't have missed the DC for anything! I would go with friends and we would meet boys and listen to music and ride the rides and just have a ball. I'd tease my hair all up and put on a little extra eyeliner. I'm not embarassed to say that I would spend hours, literally, shopping for the perfect DC outfits. I can still remember a few of them. One in particular, was a pair of short denim shorts with a red and black plaid ruffle around the bottom of each leg. It had a short-sleeved button up white shirt. The shirt had a bit of the plaid on it as well, and it tied in the front. Now that I think about it, the shorts were on the short side for sure, and I'm surprised I was let out the house like that. Nevertheless, I was, and I was sure cool that night!
I never let anything stop me from attending this fabulous celebration. When I was 16 I had all four wisdom teeth cut out. I was on pain meds and I resembled a chipmunk. My face was bruised. It wasn't my best look. So, I just worked on my hair to make it extra big and fluffy and put on my most awesome outfit picked out just for the DC, and that was that! Problem solved!
Last year, at this time, I had a huge kidney stone. It was the second largest that the hospital had seen in ten years! My right kidney was completely blocked. The doctors put a stent in and I ended up with a terrible fever and infection. Finally, I switched hospitals and doctors and I had lithotripsy surgery. I was hurting! I felt like I had been run over by a truck and then left there. It was DC time! What was I to do? There was only one solution: Take the vicodin my amazing doctor prescribed and GO!
I love live music! Throughout the years I have enjoyed some super rad bands. I have so many favorites! I was actually was able to meet the Nelson brothers after the show and get their autograph. I melted when they sang, "After the Rain!" Two years ago I went with my sister to see the Plain White T's. We were standing in the street with thousands of others singing "Hey There Delilah" at the top of our lungs. Little did we know what was in store for us!
My daughter called and told us that she was going to try to meet The Plain White T's. We figured it would never happen, but we should at least try. The concert ended and the masses started to hustle away to find drinks and funnel cakes. We made our way up to the front. All of the sudden, we saw one of the band members...the lead singer, Tim! Oh my!
He went and got the others! We hung out with them for awhile. They signed autographs for us and we took pictures with them. We felt like teenagers again!
This year's live music includes Night Ranger, Tiffany, Digital Underground, Rob Base and Downhere! Come on people! If you don't go, do you see what you're missing? Do you know the DC is where I tasted and loved my very first deep fried twinkie??
I am really missing my best friend LA right now. We go together every single year. We head down in the evening ready to meet and greet! She is usually looking super fly in ripped up jeans and hair that's teased just right on the top. I am almost always in heels that hurt my feet so badly that by the time I leave the DC my feet are literally unrecognizeable. I'm usually barefoot by the time we walk to the car.
Last week I began to wonder...Who will LA go with this year? She called me and informed me that she was taking her family to St. Louis for the weekend. She wasn't even going to bother going. Our tradition has ended, and it makes me sad.
What will I miss the most about the good ol' DC? The people, of course! There was nothing I enojoyed more than roaming the busy streets of Decatur and running into peeps that I haven't seen in ten years or more! It was like a huge reunion that I was able to be a part of year after year!
Some like it; some hate it. I'm a fan and I always will be! Go out and celebrate this weekend, Decatur! Put your cute clothes on, do your hair all up, and go have a great time!
Push and shove your way up to the front row like you own the place and sing along with Tiffany as she performs, "I Think We're Alone Now."
Oh, and have a deep friend twinkie for me!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Day 60--My Plea
I am writing with a heavy heart tonight. I read something late this afternoon, and I just can't get it off of my mind. It, like other trials I have witnessed, felt, and read about, has really made me take a look at my life and strive to put things into perspective. It forces me to take a good, hard look at things in my own life that I worry about and concern myself with that are simply petty or frivolous.
My local "Penny Saver" came in the mail today. It's just a small newspaper that has ads, employment opportunities, and items for sale or trade. I was standing at the kitchen counter flipping through it. Was there anything I needed?
Towards the middle of the Penny Saver, in the top right hand corner of a page was a family photo. It caught my eye because the family in the photo was just beautiful! The husband and wife were seated on a rock ledge outdoors. Sitting in front of them were three precious children. The little girl had long, blonde hair, and her two brothers were dark-headed. This family was all-smiles! It even made me smile, so I read the small print beneath the picture. It read something like this:
"Benefit for the Barry Family."
Oh no! I knew that wasn't good, so I began to read the article underneath. While reading, my eyes filled with tears. Their story goes something like this:
The family of five, the Barry's, traveled out of state for 4th of July weekend. While driving back home to New York, they were involved in a head-on collision. The parents of these three adorable children were killed instantly. Their sons, ages 9 and 12 are both paralyzed. Their daughter, age 6, escaped without harm.
This picture perfect family of five is now a family of only three. As their sons are trying to cope with their paralysis, they are also faced with the brutal fact that their mom and dad are dead. The two people in this world who could comfort them the most are gone...forever. The little sister is my son's age. I just stared at her picture. I literally had to look away. This little baby's heart is aching for her mommy and daddy as she watches her big brothers hurting and trying to heal...and grieve.
How can they get through this? Honestly, I can't fathom the emotions, grief, and ache that they are feeling. It physically hurts me to think about.
I immediately began to pray for the Barry kids. I stopped everything and took this situation to Jesus. Yes, this accident was allowed to happen. Yes, Jesus knows that these kids are missing their parents and grieving in ways that I can't even imagine. He knows the pain and fear that the brothers are facing as they are now paralyzed. He knows all of this, and it grieves Him. He loves these babies. They are HIS.
We live in a fallen world. Unfortunatley, bad things happen to good people. Sometimes, it seems that I go through weeks where all I hear about are situations where bad things are happening to good people, and good things are happening to bad people. I often become furious and frustrated because my human mind just can't wrap my itself around this. Even so, it can't be changed. Life is full of ups and downs and everything in between, and not one of us is exempt from that.
As soon as my husband walked in the door from work I asked him to read the Barry's story. He just shook his head. He didn't even know what to say. I requested that he keep these kids in his heart and in his mind. Every single time he thought of them, he should stop and pray for them. I asked the same of my 17-year-old daughter. I didn't just casually come across that article by coincidence. I was led to that article because I firmly believe that I am supposed to be on my knees, several times daily, in prayer for these kids. They are "every" family...a mom, dad, kids, and lots of love.
I looked around at my house and my "to do" list. None of it seemed to matter. Today I have worried about the fact that I ate a little too much, I had planned on cleaning the bathrooms, but didn't, and I have three large boxes in my bedroom that are still unpacked, even though we moved here two months ago. Seriously...I spend a substantial amount of my day fretting over these FRIVOLOUS issues! They didn't seem frivolous at the time, but they certainly do now.
Overeating, messy bathrooms, and unpacked boxes pale in comparison to what the Barry siblings are experiencing right now. I feel so guilty for all of the worry, stress, and useless thought that I dedicate so much of my time to, and I should.
Here is the problem: There are many "Barry's" all over the world. Children and adults are suffering in ways that I can't even fathom. People with "real" problems are in everywhere. People who are faced with such grief that they are simply frozen...unable to move, probably live within a mile or two of all of us! I hear of these stories, and I promise myself that I will "quit sweating the small stuff." Then, time passes, and I am doing a whole lot of sweating again, and it is almost always over frivolous issues.
I want the Barry's to be my reminder. I want them to remind me of the frailty of life. I don't want a single day to pass without telling my friends and family how much they mean to me. I never want anything to go unsaid.
The Barry's will also remind me, each day, to do my best to keep things in perspective. I am only human, so this will be a challenge; however, I want to do better. I want to put my frivolous worries to rest.
I check my blog stats a couple of times per week. I can log on and view the number of viewers that each blog post has received, and the total number of viewers since I began my blog 60 days ago. I am overwhelmed with gratitude at the number of people, many of which I am sure I have never even met, who follow my blog and choose to share life's ups and downs with me. It truly blesses me.
I am using my blog tonight as a plea. I am thankful to have individuals who read this blog because it allows me not only to honestly share my random thoughts, activities in my daily life, and ideas, but it also allows me to make requests. I am requesting prayers for the Barry siblings, ages 6, 9, and 12. Please, every time you think of them, stop for a moment to pray blessings over their little lives. Pray that the Lord will send people into their lives who will mentor them and love them unconditionally. Pray that this accident will not lead to bitterness of any kind. Pray for physical healing for the brothers, and please pray for emotional healing for all three. Please pray that they will love the Lord with their whole hearts, and trust and believe that He is a loving God. He is their Heavenly Father.
Thank you, Lord, for wrapping Your arms around these babies. I pray that even in their darkest hour they will feel You. I pray that they will never feel alone because they will call on You and You will answer them. I pray that the Barry siblings will grow to be mighty in You. They will be bold in their faith. Father, I thank you that these kids will experience Your peace; the kind of peace that is unexplainable in difficult, or even what seem like impossible situations. Jesus, I thank you that I have individuals reading this blog who will put the Barry kids on their prayer lists and lift them up each day in prayer. I thank you that you love us unconditionally...even when we question occurrences in life that just do not seem fair to us. Thank you for your grace and mercy.
Amen.
My local "Penny Saver" came in the mail today. It's just a small newspaper that has ads, employment opportunities, and items for sale or trade. I was standing at the kitchen counter flipping through it. Was there anything I needed?
Towards the middle of the Penny Saver, in the top right hand corner of a page was a family photo. It caught my eye because the family in the photo was just beautiful! The husband and wife were seated on a rock ledge outdoors. Sitting in front of them were three precious children. The little girl had long, blonde hair, and her two brothers were dark-headed. This family was all-smiles! It even made me smile, so I read the small print beneath the picture. It read something like this:
"Benefit for the Barry Family."
Oh no! I knew that wasn't good, so I began to read the article underneath. While reading, my eyes filled with tears. Their story goes something like this:
The family of five, the Barry's, traveled out of state for 4th of July weekend. While driving back home to New York, they were involved in a head-on collision. The parents of these three adorable children were killed instantly. Their sons, ages 9 and 12 are both paralyzed. Their daughter, age 6, escaped without harm.
This picture perfect family of five is now a family of only three. As their sons are trying to cope with their paralysis, they are also faced with the brutal fact that their mom and dad are dead. The two people in this world who could comfort them the most are gone...forever. The little sister is my son's age. I just stared at her picture. I literally had to look away. This little baby's heart is aching for her mommy and daddy as she watches her big brothers hurting and trying to heal...and grieve.
How can they get through this? Honestly, I can't fathom the emotions, grief, and ache that they are feeling. It physically hurts me to think about.
I immediately began to pray for the Barry kids. I stopped everything and took this situation to Jesus. Yes, this accident was allowed to happen. Yes, Jesus knows that these kids are missing their parents and grieving in ways that I can't even imagine. He knows the pain and fear that the brothers are facing as they are now paralyzed. He knows all of this, and it grieves Him. He loves these babies. They are HIS.
We live in a fallen world. Unfortunatley, bad things happen to good people. Sometimes, it seems that I go through weeks where all I hear about are situations where bad things are happening to good people, and good things are happening to bad people. I often become furious and frustrated because my human mind just can't wrap my itself around this. Even so, it can't be changed. Life is full of ups and downs and everything in between, and not one of us is exempt from that.
As soon as my husband walked in the door from work I asked him to read the Barry's story. He just shook his head. He didn't even know what to say. I requested that he keep these kids in his heart and in his mind. Every single time he thought of them, he should stop and pray for them. I asked the same of my 17-year-old daughter. I didn't just casually come across that article by coincidence. I was led to that article because I firmly believe that I am supposed to be on my knees, several times daily, in prayer for these kids. They are "every" family...a mom, dad, kids, and lots of love.
I looked around at my house and my "to do" list. None of it seemed to matter. Today I have worried about the fact that I ate a little too much, I had planned on cleaning the bathrooms, but didn't, and I have three large boxes in my bedroom that are still unpacked, even though we moved here two months ago. Seriously...I spend a substantial amount of my day fretting over these FRIVOLOUS issues! They didn't seem frivolous at the time, but they certainly do now.
Overeating, messy bathrooms, and unpacked boxes pale in comparison to what the Barry siblings are experiencing right now. I feel so guilty for all of the worry, stress, and useless thought that I dedicate so much of my time to, and I should.
Here is the problem: There are many "Barry's" all over the world. Children and adults are suffering in ways that I can't even fathom. People with "real" problems are in everywhere. People who are faced with such grief that they are simply frozen...unable to move, probably live within a mile or two of all of us! I hear of these stories, and I promise myself that I will "quit sweating the small stuff." Then, time passes, and I am doing a whole lot of sweating again, and it is almost always over frivolous issues.
I want the Barry's to be my reminder. I want them to remind me of the frailty of life. I don't want a single day to pass without telling my friends and family how much they mean to me. I never want anything to go unsaid.
The Barry's will also remind me, each day, to do my best to keep things in perspective. I am only human, so this will be a challenge; however, I want to do better. I want to put my frivolous worries to rest.
I check my blog stats a couple of times per week. I can log on and view the number of viewers that each blog post has received, and the total number of viewers since I began my blog 60 days ago. I am overwhelmed with gratitude at the number of people, many of which I am sure I have never even met, who follow my blog and choose to share life's ups and downs with me. It truly blesses me.
I am using my blog tonight as a plea. I am thankful to have individuals who read this blog because it allows me not only to honestly share my random thoughts, activities in my daily life, and ideas, but it also allows me to make requests. I am requesting prayers for the Barry siblings, ages 6, 9, and 12. Please, every time you think of them, stop for a moment to pray blessings over their little lives. Pray that the Lord will send people into their lives who will mentor them and love them unconditionally. Pray that this accident will not lead to bitterness of any kind. Pray for physical healing for the brothers, and please pray for emotional healing for all three. Please pray that they will love the Lord with their whole hearts, and trust and believe that He is a loving God. He is their Heavenly Father.
Thank you, Lord, for wrapping Your arms around these babies. I pray that even in their darkest hour they will feel You. I pray that they will never feel alone because they will call on You and You will answer them. I pray that the Barry siblings will grow to be mighty in You. They will be bold in their faith. Father, I thank you that these kids will experience Your peace; the kind of peace that is unexplainable in difficult, or even what seem like impossible situations. Jesus, I thank you that I have individuals reading this blog who will put the Barry kids on their prayer lists and lift them up each day in prayer. I thank you that you love us unconditionally...even when we question occurrences in life that just do not seem fair to us. Thank you for your grace and mercy.
Amen.
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