Tips for New Moms

I'm trying to expand my YouTube channel beyond just sewing videos.  I originally wanted to do tutorials because I've been a sewer for so long.  But I also have a heart for young wives and moms, and I love to share my experiences.

(just don't ask about my kids unless you want to sit and listen for several years).

So here's a video I did, speaking to new moms, about some things I wish I'd known when I was a new mom.  I hope it encourages you.

House Arrest

The Cheating Police pulled us over tonight.  I got a ticket and Makaela got a warning.  Makaela's taking hers to court and fighting it.

Here's how the whole thing went down.

Mia:  Mom, did you not make this lasagna?
Me:  Honey, I never make lasagna.  I always buy it.  I haven't made real lasagna since the days when your Grandma would come over and we'd cook and freeze everything.
Mia:  What!  This lasagna is a lie!  You cheated!

Later . . .

Me:  I made Italian for dinner, and it was good!
Mia:  You cheated.  Cheater.

Even later. . .
Mia, as she watched Makaela solve her Rubik's cube:  What are you doing?
Makaela: I'm solving it.
Mia:  You're talking to yourself.  You're saying 'up, over, up, over, over, up, over.'
Makaela:  I'm using algorithms.
Mia:  You're totally cheating.
Makaela:  No I'm not.
Mia:  Cheat cheat Cheater.  You're cheating, you cheating cheeeeaaaterrrr.

Later --

Makaela:  I am not a cheater. 
Mia:  Cheating cheater!  Go do your Cheater's Cube!  This is a house of lies.  I'm going to bed.

xoxoxox

The Deep and Vast Ponderings of Barbie

Dad:  "Where is that (insert name of object here) thing?"

Mia:  "I don't know."

Dad:  "Well, it's gotta be somewhere."

Mia:  "You're right!  It has to be somewhere.  It can't just be nowhere, cause then it wouldn't be anywhere."

This poses the question as to where things actually go when they're lost.  Thank goodness we have Mia, who apparently has figured this out.  My kid is a genius.

Later . . . from Makaela:

"Where are the french fries?  I need some more yellow things to eat."

xoxoxox

Heard around the house today . . .

Makaela, to the dog:

"You are the dumbest dog.  If you were a kindergartener, you'd be the one who was licking the windows."

Chatting with Mia, regarding the current contents of our pantry:

Mia:  "If you see anything snackish, we need some."
Me:  "OK.  I'll add snackage to my list."

: )

All Hail the Car God

I sat today in the presence of the Almighty Car God.  It was breathtaking.

Allow me to explain.

In the beginning was the Car God.  He looked around and saw that the car was lonely.  So he said "Let us fill the car with family members, that we might not be alone.  Let us allow them periodically to drive.  Let us even teach the young ones how to drive."

And the Car God looked around and said "it is good."

I was a relatively competent driver, having experienced several wrecks and speeding tickets.  Yes, I've had my share of fender benders and higher premiums.

Of course, all this was before I became a Car God-ian.  Now when I drive, I am in the presence of the Almighty Car God.

(The Car God doesn't appreciate the full benefit of my criticisms of his own driving habits, so  I usually get to do the driving.)

There is no list of the Ten Commandments of the Car.  Rather, the Car God gently guides me - if only the rest of life were this easy!  He softly reminds me that trash must be placed in the proper containers.  Various items in the car must be put in their proper places.  Drinks go one place, change goes another.  The hand sanitizer doesn't just go in the glove compartment, it has to go on the left side of the glove compartment.

The Car God dictates all the directions, whether they comply with Vickie (the GPS) or not.  He orders the way change is made at the drive-thru.  He controls the direction of the air vents and the angle of a turn.  He commands when to go through a yellow light at a left-hand turn and when to wait.  I'm not entirely sure; he may even control when the lights actually change.  It is a mysterious and wonderful thing.  He even groans when I hit a pothole.

He loads and unloads when we go on long trips.  He makes sure there are bottles of water.  He keeps salt packets under the handle of the emergency brake between the seats and Rice Krispie treats in the compartments of the arm rests in the back seats.

The Car God has wrecked for my sins, in my place.  I am thankful for his mercies every time I pull out of the driveway.  I confess and repent of my car sins to the Car God on a regular basis.  Before I knew the Car God, my driving was aimless and careless.  Now, I have been saved from those reckless and speeding ways.

Sometimes I shake my fist at the car and question, "Why, why, why?"  But then I realise that the Car God knows best.  After all, the Car God bought the car.  And the Car God provides oil changes and gas and regular maintenance.  And more than anything, the Car God keeps up the full-coverage insurance.

Oh praise the Car God,  a benevolent guide who helps me, who takes care of me by unwrapping my food and providing a napkin, adjusting the climate within the car, and getting things from the back seat for me.  Even though I bristle at times under his leading, the Car God is gracious to get me where I'm going without incident.  Yea though I drive through the valley of the shadow of traffic, the Car God is with me; his seat belt and visor, they comfort me.

Thank you, Car God, for providing me the means and ability to get around.  Protect us from State Troopers and Sheriffs and cops this day, and give us shiny wheels and vacuumed carpets.  We promise not to lock the keys inside.  Amen.



xoxoxox

I Wonder as I Squander

Today, I am feeling the weight of what is about to happen:  I have one daughter already gone and living 500 miles away, and two more are leaving in a week.  One is going about 250 miles southwest, and the other about 100 miles southeast.  


I wrote to my Mom last night, because I usually go to my Mom when I don't know what to do.  I said this:  "They're all leaving.  Make it stop."


And because I know my mother well, I know she is feeling my pain, feeling tears sting her eyes like they do mine, and all the while knowing that I'll get through it just fine, because she did.


It is as life goes.  It is the repeating of things over and over again.  My turn.


Paul encouraged me today.  He had no idea when he wrote that letter to the Corinthian church that Jenny's heart would be lifted by what he said.  But that's God for you -- 


^1-10Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don't squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. 


I know Paul is talking to people in the church at Corinth who seem to be going on about their lives as if nothing had changed.  I realise that he's concerned about opportunities they might have to change lives in their community, to introduce their neighbors to Christ, to be examples, to let their lives be arrows pointing straight to God.


But he is also talking to me.  He's telling me that time is valuable, precious, gone in a wink.  So don't squander it; don't waste time fussing about who did the dishes when you could be hugging her and telling her how amazing she is and how convinced you are she'll conquer every challenge.


Not that the dishes don't have to get done.  OK, tell her that while you're doing the dishes with her.  Maybe squirt some water or snap a dishtowel and laugh a lot.


I have heard people tell me this all my life:  every moment I have with my daughter is precious.  So every moment in one daughter's life, times five -- how did I get to be the one who won the lottery and hit the jackpot when it came to precious moments? I don't know, don't really care -- I just want to be highly mindful of it, not be looking back all the time at those moments I did squander with my own selfishness.  I want to look ahead.  The moments aren't over, they're just spread a little further apart with physical distance.


And it is so much easier to enjoy them now that there aren't all these little high-pitched voices screaming and talking and arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes.


I need a sign somewhere in my house -- maybe in the kitchen somewhere -- that says "no squandering allowed."  Get out the map.  Quit squandering around.  


And squander over here and let's get some dishes done.


xoxox

The Cost of Living

For over a week now, we've been without air conditioning in 90+ degree heat.  We do our best to cool things off with ceiling fans cool nights.  But overall, it's made us pretty hot -- and it's humid -- and tempers are short because we're all very uncomfortable.

Which brings me to this:  Proverbs 15.  When I read these things:

¹³ A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face;
   a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day. 

¹⁵ A miserable heart means a miserable life;
   a cheerful heart fills the day with song. 

³⁰ A twinkle in the eye means joy in the heart,
   and good news makes you feel fit as a fiddle. 

I think of my youngest child, Babydoll.  She's 14 and one of the greatest joys of my life.  And she's pleasant and easygoing even in the midst of this uncomfortable heat.  More than anyone I know -- and I know a lot of people --  she is a living example of these verses.  

Babydoll shouldn't even be here.  She was a surprise gift from God when Hunk O Man and I had decided that four children was enough.  We were done.  So when news of Babydoll came along, there was considerably less excitement and joy greeting the news.  This changed, of course, in the days that followed and especially on the day of her birth.  She has been a joyful child from the start.

I remember someone asking me just why I had to have five children.  Couldn't I have stopped at three?  It's a fair question; kids cost a lot of money.  College alone for just one child these days will send you into the poorhouse.

I honestly didn't know what to say, but I was offended at the question because I love every one of my children.  So I countered with this:  "which one would you like me to get rid of?"

I didn't have five children.  I had Rose, Bug, Barbie, JB, and Babydoll.  I had the privilege of bringing five people into the world.  They aren't nameless "kids," they are unique individuals that contribute to the world around them.  They drive me and each other crazy.  They are talented and smart.  They are thoughtless, careless, and stupid -- and the apples don't fall far from that tree!  They are sweet, kind, and generous.  They cost a fortune with their makeup and trips to Sonic and movies with friends and school fees and uniforms and Christmas and birthday gifts.  They make even me question just why I had to have five kids and not one or two or three.

But above all else, they delight God with their being.  He glories in Rose, in Bug, in Barbie, in JB, and in Babydoll.  

So there you go.  We may all be irritable with each other due to a lack of air conditioning in 90 degree heat.  We do drive one another crazy.  There are never any glasses out of which to drink.  The washer works day and night. But . . . 

Thank you God that this house has a cool basement.  And for my girly-squirrelies, cause they are priceless.

xoxox

June

Baccalaureate, Commencement, Graduation.  Have you ever noticed how many times the speakers at these events refer to "not an ending, but a beginning?"  Both things are true.

The interesting thing to me is that the end of the long climb culminates at the top of a mountain.  And if you're looking out from a high place, you can usually catch sight of other pinnacles -- other high places.  So to look out from high school graduation, it's easy to see things like college graduation, marriage, children.  These things are not in focus because they're far away.  But they are in sight, because they're all high points that stick up and are visible from the top of the graduation mountain.

What we forget is that deep valley that lies between us and them.  There is no hopping across because the distance is too great.  The easy part lies straight ahead, and that's the downhill journey.  It's often an easy slide.

The hard part comes when we're faced with the uphill climb from the flat part between the two heights.  The edge of the valley, as it were.  We've gotten comfortable with things being relatively easy and achievable.

Now comes the hard part.

The nice thing is that this climb upward always culminates in reaching the pinnacle.  It might be slow, and it will most certainly be difficult.  But it will end.  And again, all those other high places will be in sight again.

Barbie graduates from high school this Friday.  Rose and Bug graduated last year, and JB will graduate next year.  I love the top of this particular mountain, because it is so filled with possibility.  I also (at this point in my life), am able to see the tops of so many other mountains, in every direction, where my girls will go and climb but I will not.  They aren't my mountains.  And that part makes me a bit sad -- I know it's the way of things, but knowing it and feeling it are distinctly different.

So I will throw parties and celebrate and smile and laugh and photograph as much as humanly possible.  When you're on this mountain, you see an entire range ahead.  Tired?  Oh, no -- not when you're young, still a teenager, and this is the very first mountain.  Full of excitement?  Definitely.  Bring it on.

I see this shining in my daughter's eyes and I am proud.  Give me the biggest kiss and hug possible, Little Girl, and off you go.

And here, you'll need a snack.  And some money.  And don't forget to call.  And drive carefully, there are crazies on the road out there.  Do you have your pillow?  Did you remember your important papers?  Here, give me another kiss.  Oh, wait, I forgot to give you that thing . . . where's the camera?

xoxoxox

How to Be Godly 101

From Mark 7:5

The Pharisees and religion scholars asked, "Why do your disciples flout the rules, showing up at meals without washing their hands?"

From the Wesner House, on or around 7/5:

ThePharisees Hunk O Man and religion scholars Mama asked, "Why do your disciples you kids flout the rules, showing up at meals without washing their your hands?"

xoxox

I Can't Get No Respect

I read this today, from Mark 6 (The Message):

^1-2 He left there and returned to his hometown. His disciples came along. On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He made a real hit, impressing everyone. "We had no idea he was this good!" they said. "How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?"

³But in the next breath they were cutting him down: "He's just a carpenter—Mary's boy. We've known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?" They tripped over what little they knew about him and fell, sprawling. And they never got any further.

^4-6Jesus told them, "A prophet has little honor in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child." Jesus wasn't able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that's all. He couldn't get over their stubbornness.

I've read this probably 50 times in my life. It has rung true in my heart numerous times, because my extended family thinks I'm still that brash 17-year old that thinks 1-that I know everything, and 2-that I can do anything. Your family never really lets you grow up.

But it struck me differently this time. I think it's because of part the conversation I heard the other day, when I was eavesdropping. It went something like this:

Hunk O Man: Your mom's pretty smart.
JB: Well, she's not that smart.
Hunk O Man: What do you mean?
JB: She doesn't know stuff. She just knows how to Google stuff.

I was a tiny bit offended when I heard this. But seriously, just a tiny bit. Not much at all really, considering the source. Kids never think their parents know all that much.

I base this opinion on personal experience, of course. As a kid.

Things are different now. I'm an adult, and a parent. Since I've gone back to school, I've gotten a lot of accolades about the way I write. I've gotten straight A's. I watch Jeopardy all the time, and usually get the answers (except when it's literature -- I never seem to know who wrote what obscure book). I love trivia and I love to learn. I think there's something to be said for knowing when you don't know -- and knowing how to find the answer.

And my family relies on me to know most things -- the locations of their stuff, the times of their events, the status of the pantry and freezer, and generally what's for dinner and whether or not I've washed a load of towels.

But when it comes to me really knowing anything, apparently I'm just a Googler.

This makes me laugh, because I'm in such good company. Right there with Jesus.

We just don't get any respect. And Rodney Dangerfield ain't got no grammar, either. ; )

xoxox

Eavesdropping

I am guilty of eavesdropping. If this were a crime, I'd have been in jail for a long time.

I love it mainly because it's like being the mouse in the corner. You get all the information and enjoyment of the moment without having to participate. Right now, Hunk O Man is out in the kitchen, talking with JB about his Dad. They're having one of those moments when it's just them, daddy and daughter, just talking.

And I get to be there without being there -- cause I can hear it all.

Eavesdropping is sort of a theme of my life. I have spent a lot of my life wanting all the benefits without having to do the work -- in essence, eavesdropping on a life in which I don't have to actively participate.

Well, life doesn't really work that way. While the idea of the thing is infinitely more attractive than the actual thing (in most cases), the thing requires your participation. And in the long run, those are the things that change you; they bump you and knock off parts and add more parts and completely alter who you started out as being.

Kind of like trying to walk through a very tight crowd. You get a bruised elbow, some ice cream on your shirt, gum on your shoe. And you started out looking so pretty.

So while eavesdropping is nice sometimes -- eventually you have to get into that crowd and get banged up. People usually like you better that way anyway. Plus, it's way more fun. Eavesdropping can get really boring after awhile. Nobody likes sitting on the sidelines for long.

So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll head into the kitchen and grab a cup of tea. I'll be crashing the daddy daughter moment -- but I'll get to turn it into a daddy-daughter-mama moment. Put me in, coach.

xoxoxox

I'm Planning to Get Some Kind of a Plan.

Proverbs 21:5: Careful planning puts you ahead in the long run; hurry and scurry puts you further behind.

How true are these words in everyday life? Yesterday, I stood at the doctor's office, trying to mentally picture a calendar of my life. I was trying to set a future appointment. I was failing miserably, and finally said, "Let's just say (this date), and I'll call you if I can do it sooner."

Mother of five, sewer, writer, cook, Indian Chief, bottle washer. I have fooled a whole lotta people into thinking that I have it all together.

Last night, Rose came home and came in to just say goodnight. She often does this and I treasure those conversations -- but we were talking about school, and she looked down at a little weekly calendar she'd sketched out.

I realised at this point that my kid is much smarter than I am.

A good friend told me recently "When you fail to plan, you plan to fail." God has been bringing those words home to me again and again. And since I'm on a schedule now, having become a full-time student as of Monday, I need a plan.

Hunk O Man is always asking me "What's the plan?" I usually reply with "How should I know?" I tell people that I have little idea what's happening with scheduling; I generally just get in the car.

This must stop and soon! I have papers due, projects to finish, places to be, coupons to clip, and then there's the laundry. This is to say nothing of the household budget.

I think I need a new iPod touch. Maybe I can ignore that household budget thing . . .

xoxoxox

A Week of Vacation Highlights

Well, I'm back from a week of vacation. For us, that usually means visiting everyone related to us. For me personally, it always means spending time with my Mama, whom I love. Here's the lowdown, starting with the bad and ending with the best --

THE BAD:

This particular week was a difficult one for me. Because I am transitioning between medicines, I am basically your Run-of-the-Mill Wack Job. No kidding. I cry at everything (I never cry). I get upset over the most ridiculous things. I pick fights with my husband. I complain over why I can never be the winner in arguments with my teenagers.

Like that's ever going to happen!

I also dealt with a migraine that came and went the entire week. Thankfully, it's gone, and good riddance. Thank you Jesus -- seriously, for healing!

I think the most upsetting thing was a family situation that everyone accepts -- except for me, the truth-teller prophet among my family members. Talk about crying in the wilderness. Jeesh. I want a different gift, please, God. . .

Wah, wah, wah. Somebody call the Wah-mbulance. I need to get over myself.

BUT AS ALWAYS, THE GOOD:

The highlight was dinner with my sister-in-law, whom I love. She's Korean, and I've always enjoyed spending time with her. It was very good for both of us.

AND THE HIGHLIGHT TO END ALL HIGHLIGHTS:

The Greene County Fair.

For those Buckeyes among us, "Now that's what I'm talkin about."

Every summer that we can, we try and go to Ohio for this fair. When the idea that we might make a trip this year, my girls all screamed in delight: "The fair! The fair!"

I can remember pulling 3 little toddlers along in a Radio Flyer wagon at the Greene County Fair. After the wagon days, it was a wagon + stroller for the extra two that came along. One year, a photographer from the Xenia Gazette even took photos of the girls with some Greene County Sheriff's exhibit, and they were in the paper!

I indulged greatly:

1. One large cup greasy french fries with salt and vinegar from a spray bottle;
2. One very big Diet Pepsi. I caved as there was no Diet Coke.
3. One leftover sugar waffle (I always buy my mom a bag of five);
4. One genuine Bob Evans sausage pattie sandwich with mustard.
5. One funnel cake still warm.

My girls all played the cane game that has been there since I was a baby -- about 50 years now. Talk about a long-running thing. That cane guy must be really old. We came home with five canes.

We spent ungodly amounts of money on ride tickets and greasy, bad-for-you, absolutely delicious fair food. I got to see the 4-H sewing and craft exhibits. I saw the First Prize winning home grown carrots, which looked identical to the non-first-prize-winning carrots. I saw the biggest head of Kale I think I've ever seen. I saw antique teacups and the Grange building. I saw millions of rabbits in cages and some goats and sheep. I heard the auctioneer calling for bids on 4-H hogs. Barbie and JB competed in a Karaoke contest that featured about 75 versions of Taylor Swift's "Our Song." We got popcorn for free from my parent's church booth. I saw harness racing and sulkies on the big race track. I even got a compliment on my new tank top as we paid our $5 to get in.

Wow. What a week.

The things that uplift the spirit and soul aren't always straight from scripture. Sometimes they are provided by God -- via the Greene County Fair. Hallalujah and amen.

xoxox

Grandma Goldie

This is my grandma, Goldie Archer.

This is the one of the bible verses she lived out:

11 Smart people know how to hold their tongue; their grandeur is to forgive and forget.

(Proverbs 19:11, The Message)

My Grandma always said that if you couldn't say anything nice, then you shouldn't say anything at all. And when she couldn't, she didn't.

She did this this despite the fact that she lost her mother at age 3, and even after her father remarried and had more children, she was expected to be the "the boy" on the farm where they lived.

She did this despite the fact that her husband was a drunk who couldn't keep a job. She did this after she divorced him in the early 1940's, when you didn't do that, and you especially didn't do that in a small town where people talked.

She did this despite the fact that when her landlord and companion of many years (basically, her common-law husband) died, she was evicted from her home by this man's sister and other family. She never spoke a cross word against them.

She did this despite the fact that the rope factory where she worked for 20+ years gave her less than $100/month as a pension when she finally retired. She never spoke much about the rope factory at all.

She did this despite the fact that when she moved in with us to help my mother after my dad died, I would always leave the blender in the sink after I made a milkshake. I would never clean it up, and that drove her crazy. I was about 12 and she was in her late 50's.

My Grandma was a soft person. She could have been very bitter and hard from the way her life went, and yet she wasn't that way at all. She read her bible daily, and joked with my husband about how she was a Baptist and he was Church of Christ and he was never going to convert her.

After she retired from the rope factory, she worked as a housekeeper and nanny to two different families, who both loved her dearly. She finally retired in her mid 70's to an assisted living complex where they took good care of her.

She would have been 99 this past July 1. She left us for heaven on March 23, 2001, at age 91.

My Grandma Goldie was amazing. Her middle name was Marie, and that name is a form of Mary, which basically means "bitter." Goldie's life was full of bitter circumstances.

But she never let them make her bitter. Quite the contrary -- she wasn't sweet -- but soft, having a soft answer, or a wry, funny comment. She didn't raise her voice, and she was very kind. She was someone I didn't just love. I admired her.

She was a wonderful example to me. She was an even more wonderful example to my mother. My mother claims she could get at least three peanut butter sandwiches from an empty peanut butter jar.

And of course my mother hung the moon and is right up there with God and Jesus, so that right there should tell you a lot about Goldie. Her grandeur was amazing.

Lord, please make me worthy of my heritage and thank you for giving me Grandma Goldie as such an example of You in my life.

xoxox

Sliding into Home Base

My brother wrote to me recently from Iraq. He said this:

I read something once that said:

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming... "Wow! What a ride!"

I love the picture in my mind that I see when I read these words. It makes me think of the apostle Paul, who said these words in Philippians 3:

17-19 Stick with me, friends. Keep track of those you see running this same course, headed for this same goal. There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites.

20-21 But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven! We're waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthy bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He'll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.

We're right there with him, running this race, jogging the marathon, ready to jump and land flat on our bellies as we slide toward the finish line, bruised, aching, tired, old, probably with a black eye, filthy, ragged, and proclaiming "Wah-hoo! What a ride!"

I personally need to remember this when I'm so focused in on my very small life, in my very small town, and my very small issues, only growing narrower and narrower in my view. This abundant life is a glorious ride! It is designed specifically to wear you out and use you up! Go for it!

xoxoxoxox

Home

I've been gone over a week -- I had a birthday last Tuesday (a rather big one), and Hunk O Man surprised me with a week-long visit up north to Indianapolis. I saw precious friends, gave hugs and kisses, rubbed noses with two sweet little girls to whom I am Auntie J, ate and drank my favourites, shopped a little, visited a lot, and relaxed. I didn't hurry, I didn't worry much about home -- I just began the next century of my life quietly and easily, and in the company of people I love. And in a place that has always felt more like home than any other place.

In a word -- it was wonderful!

And now I'm home again doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen. Hunk O Man has a birthday next week, and what with Father's Day, he decided to buy himself an Imax Theater for the living room.

Well, not really. I think it's only something like 50 or 52 inches.

The previous tv in there was at the point where you had to hit the side of it to get the picture to straighten itself out, so I didn't flinch when he bought this Imax. JB hooked it up and now the only problem is that there's no HD yet. Something about cords and boxes and the like. Also something about it needing to be fixed and eyes looking my direction.

I've been reading in Ephesians and just began Philippians, my favourite book -- and Paul often says "I thank my God for you." I love these verses because I thank my God so often for the friends I saw recently. And I thank Him for my family as well. Sometimes you get to have such a perfect week, or day, or moment, and you just think 'ok Lord, that's it, I've experienced it all and I'm ready to go.'

But we don't go, because there's still so much work to be done. My neighbors still aren't settled into a real ongoing relationship with Jesus. My kids aren't raised all the way yet. My husband's ministry isn't finished yet, and so neither is mine, since mine is to minister to him while he ministers to others.

So it's back to real life, and real work, and the realities of my relationship with the most important one, Jesus. On with the next half century. I'm armed with the Message and ready!

xoxoxox

June 9-14: The Wesner Week in Review

Proud Grandma, Rose, Bug, and Proud Pappy

Happy girls, just graduated!

Hunk O Man, Rose, Bug, and Me

The grads and those beautiful sisters of theirs:

Babydoll, Rose, Bug, JB, and Barbie

Surprise visit from my sister K

** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ **

No, I have not died and the hogs have not eaten me.

(Thank God!)

That's what Hunk O Man always says when someone's been gone a long time; "hey, we thought you died and the hogs ate you!" Just to clarify: we have never lived on a farm, nor have we ever raised hogs or swine of any sort. And nobody has died. It's just been really busy around here -- crazy busy, if you know what I mean!

xoxox

Divine Vitamin D

Psalm 121

A Pilgrim Song

1-2 I look up to the mountains; does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

3-4 He won't let you stumble,
your Guardian God won't fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel's
Guardian will never doze or sleep.

5-6 God's your Guardian,
right at your side to protect you—
Shielding you from sunstroke,
sheltering you from moonstroke.

7-8 God guards you from every evil,
he guards your very life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
he guards you now, he guards you always.

I read this just now, this morning, and am reminded of God's goodness to me lately. So many of my prayers have been answered -- little things, really. But they seem like big things at the time. We have switched from our home phone to all having cell phones -- all 7 of us -- which seemingly couldn't be done. I have a job. Virtually all of our girls now have jobs as well -- one at Lowe's hardware, one at a local shop in the mall, one in fast food, one mowing lawns, one babysitting. We sold our lot that had been on the market for 3 years. The grandparents are choosing (in their usual gracious fashion) to be more than generous with the twins in helping with college. There is money for a new roof, and we are not in debt.

Life is just good right now. It's like being able to take a long, deep breath after feeling constricted and asthmatic for a long time.

So this Psalm sounds kind of like a lullaby to me. It's a reminder to me that no matter how I try and work out my individual life circumstances -- things that really make no difference in the eternal scope of things -- my help will still come from not the mountains, but the One who made the mountains. He never goes to sleep, never stops listening, never leaves my right side to guard me from harm, never even lets me get sunburned.

What a love! Do yourself a great favour and bask in it today with me --

xoxox

But Enough About Me. Let's Talk About You. What Do You Think of Me?

Let me just share a couple of things about myself today. Things I thought you might want to know.

First of all, I have the highest degree possible to attain in the ancient art of Wei-Ning. I know! Impressive, isn't it? I started when I was just a baby, and as of now I'm not only an expert, I have BEEN an expert for most of my life. Just ask my mother.

Wei-Ning? (It's pronounced "Why-ning").

Secondly, I am an excellent mother and I take no nonsense. Here's an example: the twins were 5, Barbie was 4, JB was 2, and Babydoll was 1. I was completely fed up with the mess everywhere. Nobody would help, nobody would put toys away, it was a mess. And of course that was during the crazy-without-drugs days, so I threw a fit. I yelled. I ranted. And I said this: "If you're going to act like pigs, I'm going to treat you like pigs!"

Lunch in those days consisted of PB&J (half sandwich cut in a triangle), a container of yogurt, and some fruit. So in keeping with "treating them like pigs," I fixed everyones plate and set it on the wood floor in the kitchen. 'Fine!' I thought. 'Eat like pigs!'

If you are -- or ever have been -- the mother of a toddler (or several toddlers), you know that this was not at all a punishment. It was rather, a picnic. They were thrilled that I would let them eat off the floor. I can see the thoughts even now running thru their tiny minds -- "No getting strapped into a chair! Wah-hooey! This rocks!"

Obviously I saw their clear enjoyment and I realised that even God was laughing at me, and likely thinking it was far past the time for me to just get over myself. This did not make me happy immediately. But pretty soon I lightened up.

There was another time in my excellent mothering career when we had lots and lots of candy in the house. I think it was probably winter -- January, I think -- when all the Halloween candy and Thanksgiving and Christmas goodies had just piled up. So one night, I was very tired, and it was Sunday night after church, and everyone was looking at me for dinner.

I put all the candy in the center of the table and told them to have at it. That was dinner.

See? I told you I was the best mom. Just ask my kids.

I am missing them all terribly today. True to my utmost degree in Wei-Ning, I cannot be made happy. I am tired of the bickering and constant noise when they are here, and I need a break. Then when three or four of them leave, I miss them terribly.

It's hard to be me. Truly. Let the violins begin.

Hunk O Man, Rose, Bug, and Barbie have been gone on a trip to visit colleges since Tuesday morning. They've had a great time, laughing and seeing people. I've spoken to them every day. The prospects at every school so far are very good.

They'll be home tomorrow, and I can't wait. I do miss them. It's entirely too quiet around here. The dishes take no time at all. There's no laundry. The TV is never on, and the dog is stalking me for lack of people to greet and see. Bleah. Even JB and Babydoll miss them.

Are they home yet?

xox

Tradition!

BLOGGY GIVEAWAY IS BELOW! KEEP SCROLLING!

I suppose it is no consequence that our local theatre company is doing this right now.

Hunk O Man and I had our annual "what's happening for the holidays" discussion last Friday, during our Friday date. We have lunch every Friday so we can have an actual conversation. Friday is his day off.

So here's the deal: I can count on one hand the amount of times I've spent Christmas morning somewhere other than my parents' house. I have always been a stickler for going home for Christmas.

I am a stick in the mud when it comes to tradition. Some things just need to be done a certain way. All my married life, even when I lived at the other end of the country, I figured out a way for us to spend Christmas with my parents.

But last year, I vowed we would start our own tradition. It's high time, I thought, that I should be the one making the noodles and pumpkin pie. The girls are getting to the age where they'll be leaving home soon, and I want them to always come home for Christmas if possible. So I thought 'ok, I'll bite the bullet and make a new tradition.'

I was resolved. My mind was made up.

When I asked Rose recently what she'd like to do for Christmas, she said this:

"Well, if we stay here that's fine.

But it's just not Christmas unless we have it at Grandma and Pappy's house."

Hmph.

So over lunch last Friday, Hunk O Man said,

"I think I can work out vacation time to travel this Christmas."

OK. I give!

And here's the deal:

1. I already created the tradition. I've always said it shouldn't be changed.

2. Grandma and Pappy won't always be here.

We should go to them as long as we can.

3. When we head north, we can see Hunk O Man's mama as well.

4. I've been outvoted six to one.

So here's to tradition! We're traveling this year. Again.

(hooray! Don't tell anybody I said that, ok?)

xox