2008~it's going to be a really great year. I've decided that. And deciding is half the battle. We have a choice each day. To make it better, or to wallow in everything that's wrong. I have bad days. I have days where I can't speak without stuttering and days where I can't remember words or put sentences together. Those are the days I try to stay alone so that I don't have to see pity and sympathy in the eyes of those that love me. Johnny wants to think these days will get better. I think it's going to be a way of life for us~the 'new me', if you will. If it passes, great! If it doesn't, then we'll deal with it. Either way, it will be our choice.

My dad used to say there are only two things we have no control over. We all have to die, and we all have to pay taxes. Everything else is a choice. There will be things out of our control and actions will happen that we can't stop. But what we can do is control our reactions to them. Do I have regrets? Shoot yeah, but because of my choices, I am the person I am today. And although that person isn't perfect, I like her. She's stronger, she's more intuitive to another's pain, and she's far wiser than she was a few years ago.

Dad also used to say, "time stops for no man". It doesn't. As much as I wanted time to stand still so I could hold on to Jenny and capture forever that sweet smell behind her right ear, I couldn't. As much as I wanted time to stop so I could tell my grandmother just one more time how much I loved her, I couldn't. And as much as I wanted to hold my dad in my arms as he crossed over, I couldn't. Time marches on. And it carries us with it. We can, however, choose the walk.

I choose to put my hand firmly in His; my footsteps directly within His; and, my eyes on the beautiful place I know is there. I am so excited with this new year. There is this feeling in my soul that says it's going to be such an awesome time for our family that I simply can't wait to see how God is going to present it all to us. May 2008 be just as good for you~

This was on Susanne's blog and I wanted to share it with you~

These two sweethearts came into my life March of 1983~and they've remained through laughter and tears, challenges and victories, births and funerals, and the beauty and sadness of life in general. They have blessed my life in ways they'll never realize and brought smiles to my heart when it needed comfort. I know now, as a parent, I can look back and wish things had been different, words had been said or not, actions been done or left undone~but through it all they have grown and matured into beautiful young ladies . I am so blessed and so proud to be a part of their life. Stacey, Leslie, I promise to always be near, to always love you, and to always cover you in prayer.

Nativity scenes. I've always loved them. Growing up, we had one that my father brought back when he returned from overseas. It was very simple, just Mary, Joseph, the baby, and an angel. One cow and a sheep, that over the years lost a leg. I loved finding it when mother would bring it out of the attic with the other decorations. Now, I don't know where you worship or what you believe, but as my father aged he began to resent seeing nativity sets during the Christmas season. He had his reasons and they were valid. To a point.

I know we should celebrate His birth each day and that we should also celebrate His death, because in dying, He arose. I know all that and I believe it wholeheartedly. But, in his attempt to get the point across to us, he didn't want Christmas carols sung either. To do so, in his eyes, would be to appear worldly. And in his swing away from the scriptures the World tried to place on Christmas, he missed the whole point of what a beautiful story it is. And if this is the only time that most of our world ever takes the time to hear it, then we need to share it. And not be afraid.

While shopping with Jenny downtown recently, we came across a beautiful nativity set. She asked Ian who the baby was. He promptly said, "Moses!" She couldn't get him to say it was the baby Jesus. Now I don't think that's any fault of Brandon nor Jenny. I thought it showed knowledge on Ian's part that there was another biblical figure who's story began as a baby! But sadly, this is the only time each year that some children see parents hovering over a baby in a straw manger, with animals nearby, shepherds, and men bearing gifts. I'm sure they ask questions and I pray that they are given a patient answer, if no other than "that's how Jesus was born". And just maybe from that planted seed, more questions will follow and someday someone will have the answers to bring them to the Lord.

Share the nativity story. Share it with the holiness it deserves, the excitement of this miracle, and sing with feelings the beautiful hymns normally reserved for this time of year. And may your Christmas be filled with His peace, His grace, and His mercy. And if you have questions of your own, I pray that you will find someone to help you with the answers.

I remember getting up long before daylight and thinking no one would hear me if I crept very quietly to the Christmas tree. Did I really think mother wouldn't hear me?!

I remember just quivering with excitement and wondering what would greet us when we were finally allowed to get up and go to the tree. You see, Santa didn't wrap any presents so gifts were always laid out with such care. The only wrapped presents would be taken later to grandparents and cousins. Oh the awe of that first sight of everything Santa brought!

I remember thinking that in the pre-dawn light, a tree couldn't look more beautiful. That is until~I saw our Christmas tree mirrored in my young daughter's eyes. Then I realized the real meaning of the magic of Christmas.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt: Yesterday, December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy. The United States Of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by Naval and Air Forces of the Empire of Japan. It is obvious that planning the attack began many weeks ago, during the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace. The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American military forces, I regret to tell you that over three thousand American lives have been lost. No matter how long it may take us to over come this pre-meditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory. Because of this unprovoked, dastardly attack by Japan, I ask that the congress declare a state of War.

Admiral Yamamoto: I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant.

There are moments in your life that make you

and sets the course of who you're going to be.

Sometimes they're little, subtle moments.

Sometimes, they're big moments you never saw coming.

No one asks for their life to change, but it does.

It's what you do afterwards that counts.

That's how you find out who you are.

{Thank you, God, for never leaving me alone

during the big moments when I needed you

and the little moments

when I only thought I did it by myself.}

It's Thanksgiving and I want to thank you, John, for being the one I always dreamed of. You bring such joy to my life and a stability to the world. Thank you for being more than just my husband, I cannot imagine life without you. forever and a day, me~

My heart is in tatters. I learned earlier this evening that at a time when I most needed to recognize someone, I didn't. Apparently, I looked into his eyes and right through them. So busy with gathering up a group of second graders and lost in my thoughts, the moment passed that would have brought needed joy to both our hearts. He remembers it. I don't. I was never aware we were within hugging distance, close enough to speak, close enough to acknowledge. I am so sorry, dear one. I never knew. And now that I do, I don't know what to say.

A lesson for us all~take the time. Always, always take the time to look at someone. Not through them. The flip side to this would be, don't ever be hesitant to reach out.

This afternoon I took it upon myself to clean some areas that had long needed organizing. In doing so, I found items that enveloped me with memories of yesteryears. Old love letters and notes passed in class brought back the sweetness of first loves, stolen kisses, and dreams of a young girl in love. Snapshots revealed more than just the people in the pictures~sounds, smells, and conversations tumbled in around my heart. Reading through old school newspapers caused me to stop and wonder where those people are now, and if they are happy.

And then the phone rang. It was Johnny. My Johnny. The man that loves the woman I am today. The man that has stayed in love with her for almost 25 years. Maybe not the starry~eyed love that I felt so many years ago, but he brings a love that I know will last. I find it comforting that he still brings butterflies to my tummy when I see him across a room. When his eyes meet mine, I love the way his smile is for me, and for me alone. We didn't know each other during those high school years or the adventurous college days. We met after broken hearts and shattered dreams had dimmed the notion of true love. After the toll of stressful adult life made us wonder if dreams were really meant to come true.

Late at night, after our daughter was fast asleep in bed, and I was trying to get everything ready for the next day, he would come to me. He would find me and bring me into the kitchen, where the radio was. And he would dance with me. It became an endearing part of our relationship. Long after our children were grown and gone, long after housework became less important, and long after our youth faded, this man, this beautiful man, still dances with me. We still dance in the kitchen.

Trust. Small word. Big idea. Jenny posted this tonight on their family page and the look on Noah's face grabbed hold of my heart. I know he's looking at his mommy. I know how dearly this child loves that woman. And I know how much he depends on her. For many months she was his food source, his pacifier, his hiding place. He knows nothing more than to feel safe with her and to trust her totally and completely.
It's difficult for me to remember trusting anyone this much. As we age, we grow cynical and trusting others doesn't come as easily as the hurts of life begin to accumulate. I love my daughters and I adore my husband. And I trust them. But not as much as the look in this little man's eyes as he gazes at his mother. Which makes me somewhat sad. We lose so much as we age.
There is one that I can trust and always feel safe. Within my heavenly Father's hands I know everything will be alright. That whatever I need and whatever happens will happen only within His realm and I can rest knowing that He is always there, always loving, always safe.
Hold on to this look, dear Noah, for as long as you can. And as you age, know that you can always trust your mother and father. And you can trust me, sweet child. I'll be here, forever and a day~

Imagine

Imagine if you will, an utterly beautiful day. An April morning. It's Friday and you have the day off! You are filled with such peace and happiness you almost can't stand it. A day of laughter. And love. You're strong, you're in control, you're invicible. You're safe.

Now, during this beautiful day, it's time for a nap! You're comfortable, relaxed. 'Just lie here for 30 minutes'. Easy. You drift away.

Dreams come and go, haunting, scary. Your fears wrapped up in everything that's ever made you uncomfortable. They're so real. So real and so frightening. Finally, finally, you wake and there's your best friend, your lover, your rock. And you begin to relax. Wow, what a dream, you say. And you notice, you're not lying where you were, but that's okay. It's not really a problem. Yet.

Tubes, wires, bandages, something attached to your throat that prevents you from talking, breathing. Panic begins to rise, and fear clogs your throat. Swiftly your brain races to find some logic to connect the pieces of this horrible puzzle that's becoming your reality.

Throwing back the covers, you find temporary relief that your legs look normal. While getting out of bed, someone has to catch you as you slide to the floor. Who do those legs belong to? Not you! You just tried to walk. And couldn't.

You ask, 'what's happened?' 'What day is it?' And you feel his anguish before you see his tears. You hear, but you don't comprehend. 'That's, what? 77 days?' He doesn't need to nod because you feel it inside with a sinking, sinking feeling. Something is wrong. Something is horribly, horribly wrong. Seventy-seven days? Of your life? When? How? What happened? And this is only the beginning.

Does our heart not melt at the sight of a sleeping child? Do we not remember with clarity the smell of their freshness, the soft whisper of their breathing, and the way they fold into us when we reach for them?

Jenny posted this picture of Ian, asleep after a morning of playing at the park. It touched me, as I recalled his mother in much this same repose. "Ah, time doth stop for no man." Sleep well, sweet prince.

O the Raggedy Man, he works fer Pa;

An' he's the bestest man ever you saw.

He comes to our house every day,

An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;

An' he opens the shed, an' we all ist laugh

When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;

An' nen, ef our hired girl says he can,

he milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann.

Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man?

Raggedy, Raggedy, Raggedy Man.

Why, the Raggedy Man, he ist so good,

He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;

An' nen he spades in our garden, too,

An' does most things 'at boys can't do.

He climbed clean up in our big 'ole tree

An' shooked a' apple down fer me

An' 'nother 'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann

An' 'nother 'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man.

Ain't he a' awfully kind Raggedy Man?

Raggedy, Raggedy, Raggedy Man.

Once when he wuz makin' a bow-'n'-arry fer me

Says "When you get big like your Pa is

Air you goin' to have a fine store like his?

An' be a rich merchunt an' wear fine clothes?

Er, what air you goin' to be, goodness knows?"

An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann,

An' I says "'M goin' to be a Raggedy Man!

I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!"

Raggedy, Raggedy, Raggedy Man.

"A babe in the house is a well-spring for pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men" ~Martin Fraquhar Tupper

When a baby is looking past you, could it be there's an angel behind you? And when they look into a tree and are captured by the movement of the wind, could it be they see what we have lost sight of? Perhaps that is why then, that we find peace in taking the time to watch the same when we feel its caress upon our face.

"Wherever they go,

and whatever happens

to them on the way,

in that enchanted place

on top of the world,

two little blondes

will always

be playing.”

to a playmate,

a best friend,

a forever friend.

Thank you for taking time for me.

My computer appears to be having some serious problems, so Brandon will be looking at it tomorrow for me. I will most likely be offline for several days, just in case you're here and wondering why you haven't seen anything new written lately. This is why.

Have a restful tomorrow and a really great week. Oh yeah, and don't forget to look for something to laugh about, someone to hug, a person to help, and a comfy spot to lay your head~

I felt the need to write that you are missed and that I've thought of you today and that I've wondered how your day has been. While putting together thoughts and pictures for today's blog on Faith, Family & Friends, I kept scrolling by pictures of you. But these pictures weren't taken today or even yesterday. There are pictures of the others, but so few of you. This really must be corrected. You, me. Two people famous for NOT wanting our pictures taken.

Stacey took this one. And it's so you. I feel you're looking right at me. Taken at the fair. A place you love. With those you love. You're relaxed. Happy. Well, as happy as one can be in scorching heat with little air. But you've never been one to complain.

So~the next time we're together I am going to take more snapshots of you. To remind me of what I'm missing when I'm not with you. I love you, peanutbutter.

Bryan Martin was murdered Wednesday night as he returned from a Biscuits game. He had merely stopped to pick up a few items to take home to his wife and two very young children. Such a senseless and random act, all for the sake of stealing his F150 pickup ~ which was spotted on the Eastern Blvd. by police at 9 am the next morning.

Our little community has been rocked and brought to its knees. This couple grew up together, fell in love, and stayed in the area to make a home for their 2 year old son and 3 month old daughter. His wife has such a difficult road ahead. I taught Kelsey and knew Bryan. Both with much love for each other and their fellow man. Both with dreams for the future and the motivation to make them happen.

Take a moment to pray for this situation and for all of us. Ask God to continue believing in America and that He give us the courage to try and make a peaceful difference in our world.

“I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live my life as if there isn't and die to find out there is.” ~Albert Camus