..."2nd Annual Peterson Prairie Camp-out..."

The fellers and I have been on a prairie sojourn. We drove the 16+ hours to Grandma's little house on the prairie; pit stopping in Kansas City for the fellowship of a couple 'dear young' friends & mentors.

Spring has sprung on the prairie.  Last spring break, the fellers packed their pup-tent & sleep cells. They wanted to camp out in Grandma & Grandpa's wind break... they felt deprived from their lack of camping in Indiana.  Last years camp-out brought a morning waking up to a frosty tent... 23 degrees, and a second night in nature we endured 50 mile-an-hour winds, blowing the canopy off.


This spring has been unseasonably warm in the Midwest, when packing we had to trade shorts & tank tops for the usual jeans & sweatshirts. The night before our departure, the fellers loaded their camping gear into the land yacht.


The morning after our arrival at the grands, the fellers got everything set up.  They rested in their sacks (that's comparative to a snake in a pillowcase), set up and swung in Grandpa's portable hammock.  They were ready for their evening in the great outdoors.


That afternoon my mother, sister and I hosted a baby shower for my brother's wife, anticipating the arrival of our little McBaby this summer.  The fellers got hauled to the cattle pasture to work on putting up fence.  They returned in the late afternoon, sun & wind burnt.... tuckered out. After feasting on Grandpa's BBQ and left over baby shower cake, they were rejuvenated & wanted to camp.

The camp ground they had so carefully made had been blown over by the high Kansas winds.  We un-steaked the tent, drug it to the north end of the house hoping it would act as a wind break and prepared to camp.  The shortest feller was so pooped out he drifted off to dreams as soon as his head hit the sod.  The tall one is the worrier.  He worried about the wind.... hearing a coyote (which was actually a squeaky nearby oil well), thought he heard footsteps ( the farm guard dog just keeping tabs on us).


To calm him and slow the gears of his brain I engaged him in chatter.  We talked about life and dreams... until finally he said, "Ok mom, I've had enough talking." And he drifted off to dreamland as well.


I took a Lunesta to try to catch some shut eye.  The Western Kansas wind picked up.... it flapped the tent all night.  It is no wonder all of my bedtime dreams & childhood memories are extremely windy!


The fellers slept through sunrise, the morning greetings of the meadowlarks... not arousing until 7:30 a.m.


The tent looked like a refugee camp.  Everybody was cockeyed in their sacks, caddy-corner on the airmatress' we shared.


The next afternoon I asked the taller feller if they were going to campout that evening.  "Na, I think I need a good nights rest tonight,"he retorted.


The last few weeks have been some of the toughest for our family... on the fellers, the hubs & me.  I am on the road to recovery, seeking the Lords healing for the wounds.  Our prairie campout reminds me that if we rest fully in the Lord, we will see the joy in the morning.

Psalm 30:5

New International Version (NIV)

⁵ For his anger lasts only a moment,
   but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
   but rejoicing comes in the morning.

Life is about enjoying the small stuff.... about finding the joy in the journey & appreciating the little things, because one day when I look back they will be the BIG things.

..."spring has sprung..."

To rouse the fellers I sing... "Good morning, good morning, good morning today." As I open their room-darkening-blinds.

Some mornings are ugly at our house, so I try my hardest to sprinkle them with kindness to boost the moral.

This morning, March 20, the short feller declared, "Today's the first day of Spring... due to it being a Leap Year & the speed at which the earth rotates on it's axis as it revolves around the sun... Spring starts one day early this year."  ... our little Einstein.

So we're going to have a Celebrate Spring Day this afternoon.  When asked what kind of after school snack they would like, the short feller replied pie... cherry & pumpkin (a boy after his father's heart). The tall feller requested, cookie dough ice cream (a boy after his Grandpa's heart).

Everyone at our casa has the glow spring brings.  The birds have returned to the woods, chirping up a storm as I let the mutts out at
5:30 a.m.  The Mutts are sunbathing on the deck as I type, tuckered out from their morning wrestling match.  The cats are lounging around, rubbing their pheromones on everything.... I even found a todd while weeding a flowerbed last evening.

How are you saying good bye to winter and celebrating Spring?  Are you cleaning out closets, donating your cast offs to the needy?  ... getting outdoors to walk or exercise? ... washing the windows inside and out?  ... pulling the "weeds" out of the garden of your life?


Spring is a time of renewal.  A time of birth... rebirth.

After I walked the dogs and came in the house to brew some coffee, I felt something crawling on my hair... a lady bug had hitched a ride.

Take some time to listen to how the Lord wants you to celebrate spring .... He has invited you to hitch a ride for eternal life...
... bloom into what He has in store for you.

..."what happens @...stays @..."

What happens at Grandma's ... stays at Grandmas. Or in the fellers case this week, what happens with grandma visiting ... stays between them.

The hubs and I are out of state on business... learning how to better feed America. Catching up with business associates who have long ago become friends.

Notice how the mutt's have trampled my lawn!

The morning after the grands arrival, (delayed flight, & we rolled in at 2:00a.m.) the fellers set the woods on fire.  An innocent mishap... the hubs lets them use his plumbers propane torch to make little camp fires at their fort.  They had started a fire in our metal fire pit, were adding large cardboard boxes for kindling (from the weeks Costco, hunting & gathering). There was a slight breeze... a chunk of ignited cardboard became airborne & landed in the dead-leaf-encrusted-woods-floor....

I thought it was comical; taking a picture for facebook.... then it started to spread.  Grandma advised I grab a bucket... the hubs came running out in shorts & knee high rubber waders.  We unrolled the winterized garden hoses and extinguished the flames.

Before our departure the short feller inquired, "Are we still grounded from fire?"

Yes .... and all testosterone related contraband.... pocket knives... BB-guns...
Honda 50 motorcycle... go-cart ... AND of course fire.

Grandma has been loving her grad-fellers through food.  Fried chicken & mashed taters the first night... monster cookies today...

When we first moved to Indiana, 14 hours & 4 states away from Grandma, my mother sent me a newspaper clipping of a Family Circus cartoon.

I've kept it on my fridge over the pat 8 years.  It's caption reads, "Grandma's coming for a sleepover!"

It stinks being so far from family.  The fellers only get to see their grands a handful of times a year, but absence DOES make the heart grow fonder.

My boys get to have their grandparents on their own turf & to visit the grandparents each summer for a week or so at their home.... with out the hubs and I around to boss everyone.

If we lived in the same state, the sleepovers would be shorter... not the treat they are to us.

We stay in touch via FaceTime chat most Sundays (a tradition my folks adopted 19 years ago when I left for college, to check in once a week to make sure I was still breathing.)

We return home tomorrow.... it'll be cute to hear the stories unfold over the days following.  The hubs hopes the house is still standing... I hope that the fellers & more importantly Grandma ... are still breathing.


Proverbs 10:1
New International Version (NIV)

Proverbs of Solomon

 ¹ The proverbs of Solomon:

   A wise son brings joy to his father,
   but a foolish son brings grief to his mother.

..."I love rock & roll..."

..."I love rock & roll..."

Our eldest feller turned ten recently. We don't subscribe to the "too
much to muchness" our culture has placed on birthday parties. We have
dinner as a family, the fare being what the birthday boy requested, and Dairy Queen cookie dough ice cream cake.

We also have a tradition of allowing the fellers to invite a few friends to join us for a guys night out (mom as a tag-a-long). They get to pick the place to dine & an activity to partake in.... Movie at the theatre, bowling, bounce house.

When the short feller had his guys night out a few month back, a blizzard hit. Making the masculine crew home bound. We Treager grilled pizzas, rented "Dolphin Tale" on appleTV .... & they had the best
night ever!

To celebrate a decade of our oldest's life, we splurged....

We rented the local roller rink and invited the whole class, plus a
few families we enjoy the company of, to skate .... AND Grandma & Grandpa made
the trip from the prairie to attend.

I had fallen going down the stairs a week before and bruised my
tailbone.... I didn't think being pulled to the ground on skates
sounded like a good idea.

The hubs, three mom friends, two kid sitter friends and another dad,
plus 38 kiddos laced up and hit the rink. They skated their hearts
out, falling a bit to start out, but smiling and laughing the whole
afternoon.

The kids requested their favorite tunes..... "YMCA"... 
"We Will RockYou"... "Ring of Fire"..... & my personal favorite 

 "I Love Rock & Roll."


On a recent trip to school one morning, my youngest was singing along to my favorite play list..."Put another dime in the juice box, baby." He belted.

Hearing an old '80's tune brought me back to my youth. When I was a 1st grader, the age of my youngest, my friends and I would swing on the swing set, and belt out Joan Jett's lyrics.  We didn't care how we sounded, how we looked, or who was listening. We were just enjoying ourselves.

Watching my son and his classmates, hearing songs from my youth, reminded me:
... the joy is in the journey!

At some point in our adolescence we forget that. We loose the joy and let what others say hurt us.... to let negativity permeate our self esteem.

Yesterday, for two hours, all the classmates were joyful.... they were
equals... falling down, laughing, smiling... 

Enjoying the joy of the journey.

I've declared skating to be good for the soul (as long as your body
can hold up). Not one person was frowning, grouching, 'putting down' or belittling
with roller skates on their feet.....

2 Chronicles 30:23 ......"they celebrated joyfully."


P.S. (post script, after original release)-We devoured the most delish birthday treat... mom mom used to make these & I enlisted a baking friend... their are actually red velvet cupcakes!


P.S.S.-In loo of gifts we asked the kids to bring shampoo & laundry soap to donate to Open Arms Women's Homeless Shelter that our church opens up Wednesday night for them to sleep over.  Look at God's goodness in this loot for the ladies!!!!!

..."caterpillar..."

The fellers are both outdoors men. The tallest feller more so than the short one, but he lets his big brother drag him outdoors.

I am a science teacher at heart, finding an experiment in all things.

I recently saw an idea on pinterest to take the top of a pineapple, plant it in a pot, and grow a fresh pineapple.

My oldest son loves to help me chop fruit, watermelons in summer, pineapples... I think it is using a serated knife that makes this task, I dread, fun to him.

He helped core & chop the pineapple.  We retrieved a terra cotta pot from the woods, I had winterized, last fall by tipping upside down, and planted the pineapple top in it.  I had a little patio garden last summer, mixed greens, chives, green onions, and herbs.  Interestingly, the mini-green onions that had been in the pot are still growing next to the pineapple.

The shortest feller found a caterpillar on an unseasonably warm winter day.  It was crawling on the brick wall on the stairwell to our basement door.  My son gently scooped it up and placed him in the pineapple/mini-onion pot.

My youngest son named the caterpillar "Lil' Guy." It has lived in the pot in our basement for over a month.  Every day he checks on it, making sure "lil' guy' is still with us.

One morning, we couldn't find him.  A few moments later my son exclaimed, "He's over here." The caterpillar had crawled 15 feet over towards the night light illuminating the stairwell. My son scooped him up, put him back in the pot... where Lil' Guy has remained.  A habitat in a pot, in our basement.  He crawls from pineapple sprout over and amongst the onion fronds.  He seeks higher ground when we water the pot, atop the bristly pinapple leaves.

We're nearly 3 weeks into the season of Lent, 13 of the 40 days.

Lent reflects the 40 days Jesus the Messiah, spent in the desert.  He was tempted by Satan, but used the time of solitude to submit & obey His Father.

Lent takes place the 40 days leading up to Easter, the resurection of Jesus.

Lil' Guy has me thinking... how long can/will he survive in our basement without fresh air and only 3 daylight windows.  How long can a caterpillar live with out the sun?...

How long can we live without the Son?

Lil' Guy reminds me of my walk as a believer.  I get cozy in my habitat, comfortable in my surroundings.  Then I start to crave time with the Lord... just like Lil' Guy crawled to the night light, craving it's light.

We like the caterpillar may recluse, we may wonder, but eventually we seek out the Son.

Are you spending these 40 days:
Giving something up?  Reflect on Jesus' sacrafice for you...
Doing something beneficial?  Focus on how it can strengthen you for His glory.,,

I wonder when Lil' Guy will spin a crysalis?  To begin the journey of changing for the better.
How long then before he emerges as a new creation... metamorphosized into what God intended for him to be all along.

Are you like a caterpillar, inching along on your journey?
...waiting for the Lord to scoop you up?
...longing for a new beginning?

Li' Guy reminds me that we are made new ... if we just choose to believe.

..."labor of..."

A decade ago....
After 2 weeks of bed rest
(due to gaining 13 pounds in 12 days of water retention)...
Being induced 11 days early to ward off pre eclampsia...
After 23 hours in labor...

A gorgeous brown eyed child of God was born into this world. He tipped the scale at 9lb. 8.5oz. His height rivaled that of Grandma's at 23inches tall.

Our dear sweet boy had aspirated fluid... had a low APGAR score... his lungs were suctioned.

Due to this, and the scratchiness it left in his throat, our gigantic newborn wouldn't eat.

What a long night it was, exhausted from labor... wracked with worry about his blood sugar dropping.
During the middle of the night, he was placed int the NIC Unit.  He looked to big compared to the other little 'peanuts' occupying warming beds.  A feeding tube was inserted to give his large frame the sugar & nutrients it needed.  24 hours later, we was fine... not breast feeding, but fine.  I had a little cry, my hubs called our pastor's wife, a former OB nurse, in dispaIr.  She advised, "It's normal for her to cry, and the baby will eat when he's hungry."  I kept thinking, Mary the mother of Jesus did this... how hard can it be?

Being the problem solver I am, once home I became a milk cow.  I would pump milk for each feeding & feed my son with a bottle.  I continued this labor of love for 6 months.  FYI, ice cubes are about 1 ounce. I froze milk in ice cube trays. I would then plop the amount of cubes he needed for a bottle in to thaw.

A decade has now slipped by.  I praise the Lord for ten health years.

When the Lord made me a mother, I embarked upon the toughest job I've ever faced.  I recently asked our pastor's mother (our pastor is wrapping up 4 weeks teaching in Ethiopia) if the worry of being a mom ever dissolves.  She replied, "No not really, it just becomes different. You learn to pray a lot, and trust in God."

OK pray... check
Trust in God... check, sort of ...

You see I trust... then I reel it back.

When I am trusting in God, I am able to love & enjoy my son more fully.

The Lord blessed me with His amazing creation.

He has...
a big kind heart...
gorgeous big brown "M&M" eyes..
gigantic gappy grin...
the ability to never know a stranger...
my genetic vitiligo...
huge loud feet (let me know when he's comin').
a beautiful singing voice...

Psalm 133:13-14
13..."you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; 
   your works are wonderful"...

He can...
tell amazing stories (future writer?)
make anyone laugh...
talk the legs off a snake...
build awesome cool forts...
shoot a BB gun or bow & hit a bulls eye...
love & shepherd his younger brother...
memorize Bible passages amazingly...
make a piano 'sing'...
sketch fantastic drawings...
share endless scientific, historical, geographical facts (human encyclopedia)...

^{Psalm 139: 1-5 (bits & pieces) NLT
1} O LORD, you have examined my heart
      and know everything about me.
 ² ...You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
 ³ ... You know everything I do.
 ⁴ You know what I am going to say
      even before I say it, LORD.
 ⁵ You go before me and follow me.
      You place your hand of blessing on my head. 

The Lord saw it fit to create and give my son to me.  In this "labor of LOVE" I need to remember (especially in the teen years)...

²³ Psalm 139: 23
23Search me, O God, and know my heart! (NLT)
test me and know my anxious thoughts. (NIV)

²⁴ See if there is any offensive way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting.

..."sunshine..."

This is a tale of a getaway to the city.  The hubs and I had wanted to get a way this winter.  With a business trip looming next month, winter has almost elapsed; we decided to escape to Chicago.  A newly married couple stayed with the fellers,  giving them a break from their grouchy exhausted parents.

What fun it was to spend time reconnecting as a couple.  We decided to have a progressive dinner.  We had an hors d'oeuvre at one restaurant... shared an entree at another... a final stop for dessert.

The following morning we "coffee'd" and read our eBooks... people watched from the arm chair separated from the sidewalk by a pane of glass.

We did a little window shopping... making a wish list of things that would someday look at home in our cozy casa. (this was the hubs favorite)  The hubs picked out a few frocks for me to wear at some upcoming family events.... fashion show as he calls it.

@ The James Hotel - David Burke's Prime House

Then as late afternoon & happy hour approached.... we started our progressive eating again:  The James... Park Place Hyatt's NoMi... Joe's... 

 (did I mention I added 3 lb. to my figure? jogging in my near future....)

We had time to inquire on the other's dreams, fears... thoughts, feelings... to fellowship as a couple.

One of the things I love most about the city is the effect the skyscrapers have on the sunshine, the shadows they cast.  I took some great pictures last spring of different flower boxes/planters and how the the sunshine or shadow effected their contents and the lushness.  (but must not have saved on our iCloud, darn it) On one side of the street the concrete and steel can be completely enveloped in shade... chilled from the lack of solar energy.But across the street, out of the shadow of the skyscraper, the sun shines brightly... radiating it's light & warmth.

In her book Eat, Pray, Love Elizabeth Gilbert speaks of this,
“I crossed the street to walk in the sunshine.”

It is easy in life to sink into the routine, hum-drum, normalcy of life, but every now and then we need a break from the shadow that routine can cast... to cross the street into the sunshine.  Do something out of the ordinary. Go for a walk in the woods. Go watch children play at the park. Sit at the edge of a fountain and let the water relax your soul. Take a few minutes to, "...cross the street & walk in the light."

“Americans have an inability to relax into sheer pleasure.Ours is an entertainment seeking-nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one....This is the cause of that great sad American stereotype- the overstressed executive who goes on vacation, but who cannot relax.” 
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love


The above quote was said to Elizabeth by an Italian friend.  They have mastered the art of enjoying doing nothing... the simple pleasure of living... relaxing... “La Dolce Vita." .... simple life.

We arrived home refreshed, "youthful," passionate once again. Ready to take on all life as a CFO & not-so-desparate-housewife has to offer.

The fellers, & most importantly their caregivers, were all intact... embracing in reunion after a mutual... much needed respite.  The sun continued to beam in NW Indiana... making for a grand afternoon out in the woods... meditating on the idea...

"The shadow proves the sunshine." - SWITCHFOOT

..."tongue tied..."

Those of you who know me personally, know that God blessed me with the gift of gab. I, like my father, could talk the leg off a snake. It is rare, but I have come across a few friends who can out talk me. So this tale is about the Lord rendering me.... speechless.

I was asked to read a poem titled Grace at our church service Sunday.
Public speaking doesn't usually rattle my nerves. I have often been
family & friends "go-to"...asked to read scriptures and poems at
weddings... to say the blessing & toast the bride & groom at
receptions. As a former middle school teacher, I just picture the
audience as adolescents.

I read slowly into the mic, then I began to feel the Holy Spirit fill
me. I became overcome by the Lord's grace & love for me....I almost
couldn't finish. I paused and the Lord spilled the rest of the
poem out of my mouth.

This is a feeling that is different for everyone. Some have described
it as a feeling of pressure on their shoulder or chest. For me it is
the sensation of internal goose bumps; a warmth that starts at my
scalp & travels slowly down to my knees. Like sunshine spreading
through my veins.

Sunday's reading brought back a childhood memory. In first grade I was
responsible for reading the gospel during a catholic school mass planned by my
first grade class. I was the age of my youngest son at the time. I had practiced my reading for my parents at home, but I got to the mic & froze.

I believe the reading was one of Paul's epistles. During a catholic
mass you introduce the reading as: "a letter from the apostle Paul to
the...(insert name of the city the letter was written to: Corinthians,
Galatians, Ephesians)

I knew the passage name, but it wasn't printed as a letter to....

I stood silent & still at the lectern, staring at the elementary
congregation.  Finally the priest came over to ask what was wrong. I
told him I didn't know how to introduce the reading. He whispered it
into my ear, I said it aloud with the epistle following.

In the Psalms we are instructed to be silent.
Psalm 46:10 "Be still (I interpret still-ing my mouth.) and know that I am God."

Jesus rebuked the wind during the storm.
Mark 4:39 "Quiet! Be still!"

When we heed this heavenly suggestion.... we are able to feel, recognize, notice His grace as it envelopes us...transcends us...

I have been cramming my calendar lately. Filling it with coffee prayer partners, lunching with mentors, surrounding myself with awesome Godly women (2012 resolution).
The question that has been creeping into my mind is... What are you avoiding Becca? I know in my conscience the Lord has a few things He wants me to meditate on... to wrestle with in my heart & mind.... I just needed my tongue tied as a reminder that His grace is enough & I need to take some solitude to thank Him.

-from Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist

"Grace"

"Grace isn't about netting out on the right side of things.


If arithmetic is numbers, and if algebra is numbers and letters, then grace is numbers, letters, sounds, and tears, feelings and dreams. Grace is smashing the calculator, and using all the broken buttons and pieces to make a mosaic.


Grace isn't about having a second chance; grace is having so many chances that you could use them through all eternity and never come up empty. It's when you finally realize that the other shoe isn't going to drop, ever. It's the moment you feel as precious and handmade as every start, when you feel, finally, at home for the very fist time.


Grace is when you finally stop keeping score and when you realize that God never was, that his game is a different one entirely. Grace is when the silence is so complete that you can hear your won heartbeat, and right within your ribs, God's beating heart, too."

..."back in the saddle..."

This tale has a few "rabbit trails," ... but stick with it, it all comes full circle by the conclusion...

My sister called last night.  I was finishing up a run at the gym. I logged 4.25 miles.  I have been on "sabbatical" from cardio for the past few weeks. It just hasn't fit into my schedule. I have been squeezing in my weight-lifting once or twice a week, but the cario had gone to the wayside.

My sis asked, "What are you doing?"  "I'm back in the saddle," I replied.  It felt good to run again.  My hubs has been pestering me about it.  He is either worried about my mental health (much less grumpy when I run regularly) &/or he is fearful I will regain the 30+ lb's I have lost since taking up the healthy hobby of my teen-youth years. ( see blog April 11, 2011) ....

Truly my hubs is my accountability partner & knows how frustrated I will be with myself if I let the muscles, strength & endurance I have built fade away.

Back to the phone call from my sis (sort of)....
When I told her I was back in the saddle, it stirred a childhood tale in my mind.  When I was 12, my dad bought me an old horse.  He had a buddy who would buy the rodeo livestock when it was ready to be "put to pasture."  Calves which would lay down & put their legs in the air to be roped... and my old mare.  We named her Sammie and enjoyed trotting her around, usually bare back (without a saddle for all you city folk).

My uncle attended an annual trail ride in Russel Springs, Kansas. I had taken to tagging along each year.  We would camp, ride 10+miles on Saturday & a shorter scenic ride on Sunday.  The year Dad bought Sammie my sister joined us.  Sammie was little, tame and a perfect ride for my 8 year-old sister.  About half way through the ride, Sammie decided she had enough... laid down in the middle of the trail... and tried to shake my sister & the saddle off...
Remember, I usually rode her bare back... so wearing a saddle in the June Kansas heat & riding 10 miles was not Sammie's idea of a good time.  My sis hopped on the back of one of our horses and we lead Sammie the remaining way to camp pulling her by the reins.

This childhood tale has me thinking about other parts of my life that I have "slipped off the saddle."

Just like my jogging habit, there are times when my spiritual life is pushed to the back burner.... squeezed out by the busy-ness of life... the commitments I make & give a higher priority.

-not taking extended moments of silence and solitude...
-not meeting regularly with my spiritual mentor...
-not digging deep into God's word...

So dear readers, as I get ready to lace up my running shoes & head back to the gym I am blocking out an hour this afternoon for my quiet time with the Lord.
-To sit and pray my breath prayer, "Here I am Lord, help my heart to listen."
-To read my small group study of Ruth Haley Barton's Sacred Rhythms.

-To get back in the saddle & be disciplined in my living.

..."Geo-bee..."

Here is a tale of my eldest... the geography buff.

My 4th grader often enters the car following school, discouraged. Deflated after the school day. He is a highly expressive, dramatic kid (Drama King). Most things are a BIG deal to him, and at this stage ... usually discouraging (man I can't wait until the hormones kick in!)

So one day just shortly before Christmas, he entered the car trying to contain the smile on his face. He was waiting for me to ask, "How was your day? Name one great thing."

"Today we had a geography quiz & guess who is a finalist in the school geography bee?"

He was grinning from ear to ear... To have good news to share. To be encouraged.

He spent the month that followed parousing all the back issues of National Geographic, the subscription a gift to satisfy his keenness for the Earth & it's history. He practiced US geography on a new iPad app, "Stack the States."

When the day of the school geography bee came, he was cool as a cucumber. He had prepared his whole life for this. Each class grades 4th-8th had two class finalists. He and his fellow 4th grader were the youngest by almost half a decade!

The cool thing about fourth graders, is they don't get nervous. At least not our son. He was excited, maybe even goofy, but not scared of the task ahead.

His classmate was given a question in which the answer was Kansas (where the grandmas & grandpas live... cake). My son was given a question about Massachusetts. He had advanced into the next round. He continued on, holding his own until his fourth question. Then fear set in. He looked at my husband and I with a look of fear, as though he had let us down. We gave him a thumbs up as he couldn't leave the stage until the end of the round. His classmate was still in the competition. Upon answering his next question correct, our son looked eagerly at his peer & clapped loudly with a proud grin on his face...
He was encouraging his neighbor.

This was the proudest moment for me. To see my son enthusiastically encouraging another... even after his own defeat.

At the end of the round our eldest was permitted to leave the stage. He sat between my husband and I and melted into our embrace. We continued rooting for his fellow fourth grader.... Who ended up placing 3rd! Amazing for a boy 4 years younger than the competition, in his first ever geography bee!

The lesson I took away from this tale is....

We are on this Earth to encourage... to build each other up!

In the New Testament the apostle Paul tells of encouragement....

1Thesselonians 5:11 NIV
"11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up..."

At what age did I loose that childlike ability? To encourage and build one another up with egar enthusiasm.
This was a lesson from the Lord.
That I need to be an encourager to my hubs & sons, to build them up with positive words... positive tone & inflection. For this is what the Lord is calling us to, just as my son modeled for me.

When our son left the stage, his first geography bee concluded he looked at my hubs and whispered in his ear, "There's always next year."

Always the encourager...

..."zamboni..."

My sister recently came for a visit.  When you live 4 states away from your family, there is an excitement that company brings... almost like the anticipation of Christmas morning.

The fellers and I pointed the land yacht towards Cicero and gathered their auntie.  We had tentative plans of investigating Sue's T-Rex skeletal remains at the Field.  As we drove to the parking, submerged under Millennium Park, we saw the ice rink and our plans took a detour.  We had wanted to skate the weekend gram and gramp were here in November, but our urban outing was laced with rain, detouring that days plans.... today was our chance and God had graced us with 40 degree temperatures to boot!

After a bowl of soup and a cup'a java to warm us internally, we headed to rent some skates.  My oldest and his auntie were going to give it a try.  At first he clung to the railing that edged the rink, feet awkwardly akimbo... shedding a few tears as his socks tried to slink down in his boot, rubbing his shins raw.  He eventually developed his "sea legs" and was venturing away from the railing.

Once they had barely completed three-quarters of a lap, my youngest exclaimed, "I think I'd like to give it a try."   This is the boy who does not always handle new-challenging-unique situations ... I was leery of what the outcome would be.

After we had laced up he was so eager to hit the ice.  Immediately he wanted to stray from the railing... encouraging me to do the same.  I was gripped by fear... he was full of courage.

Once I had completed a few laps I needed a break.  My oldest was gliding by, smiling and waving... his fear had dissipated.  My youngest was along side his auntie asking her, "Why do people chuckle when someone falls."  She explained that we were laughing with his big brother as he was flailing around on his neophyte lap, but we weren't belittling him.

He was rather chatty with his auntie.  Explaining that he didn't know how to skate when he had woken up that morning &  "Now I am awesome."

We had skated for a couple of hours without one complaint of cold. It was time for the rink crew to smooth out the ice with the Zamboni, and we were all asked to exit.  The Zamboni worked it's magic; smoothing the rink to a glass-like state.

During my break on the bench my mind began to think about fear & courage.... and the Zamboni.  As children, we live life without fear, full of courage and belief in our capabilities.  I the adult clung to the rail with fear; my sons ventured out in courage. They enjoyed themselves, took pride in their abilities, had faith that they wouldn't be hurt.

This is a reflection of my faith life.  If I live without trust and faith in the Lord, I am not fully enjoying all He has to offer.

In the Old Testament the Lord spoke to Joshua about courage.

Joshua 1:9

New International Version (NIV)

^"9...Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Leaving the ice... notice they are skating "up stream." My little salmons.


If we live this life we have been given with courage; with child-like faith, then the Lord will give us strength in our trials.  He will be like the Zamboni... smoothing away all the scrapes and dings.

..."too-much'ness..."

I was blessed this past weekend with being invited to fill in at my sons Children's Worship.  The fellers head to the basement each Sunday for an amazing worship at their pediatric level.  They dance... cha-cha... sing... hear the word of the Lord, discuss it in small groups... & play (childhood fellowship).

I stood amazed at the fabulous job the worship leader does. She meets them where "they are at."  Loving those little hearts & minds just as Jesus would (& does through her).

The kids sermons for the month of January have been focused on Self-Control... a fruit of the Spirit found in the book of Galatians.


The skit for the sermon intro depicted an adult playing video games incessantly, grazing on two "good things" brownies & pizza.... But too much of a good thing can make us feel ICKY... vomit as Ms. Kristen read in the New Testament (yes the kids NIV actually says vomit).

I admit dear readers, self-control is not my strong suit.  I love my favorite things.... coffee, salsa, milk chocolate chips, diet soda, wine, potato & tortilla chips, facebook, pinterest, reading on my kindle, angry bird, watching old '80's movies ... notice the list could go on-&-on ...

Too much of a good thing is what I like to call "too-much-too-much'ness." It is okay in little bits, but when we resign any form of self-control it begins to make us ICKY.

So I have embarked on a juice fast with the hubs.  We are consuming fruit & veggie juice, blended in our
new Ninja blender, for breakfast and dinner.  Lunches will stay at our norm, lean protein & veggies. We've recently been inspired by some friends who are doing the same as a couple.  Starvation makes the heart grow fonder, right?

I know it may sound wacky, but I want to eliminate the distractions that are taking my attention away from the Lord.  When I really want a bowl of chips and salsa... I want to be able to focus my desires and attention on the Lord... have self-control.... and get healthy too.

So friends,  I'm sure there will be a few tales of me about this adventure...
gnawing my arm off...
I had a "food" dream in my slumber last night, it may have involved some candy ...
I may have sleepwalked and dug out of the Halloween bags at the back of the pantry ....
We'll see how long we last....

..."quirky..."

The Lord has been at work in my life... I don't know where to begin.

As I have shared in past tales, our 1st grader has been diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder - SPD (formerly called Sensory Integration).  It is a neurological dysfunction where the neurotransmitters do not correctly send and receive the brain messages, resulting in inappropriate responses to his surroundings.... quirky behavior at times of stress, chaos, over-stimulation.
At school is appears to be about to explode out of his skin... fidgeting, moving, spouting out what ever comes to his mind.
At home he is calm, low registration, as his physician a occupational therapist describe. He can read National Geographic, Lego, listen to Harry Potter novels calmly... for hours on end.

We are going through the long (waiting process) of an evaluation by the LEND Program at Riley Children's Hospital, the top program in the nation for social dysfunctions.

We are praying for the Lords guidance as to what is best for our dear-sweet-uber-intelligent boy.  It seems as though he and his brain may not be cut out for the cookie cutter education America has grown accustomed to in the past 100 years.  This is hard for me, a former Kansas Teacher of the Year Nominee, who strove to bring eccentric differentiated (leveled) hands-on learning into my classroom.  We have watched God's plan for our son's life unfold... being called to Christian education for be surrounded and loved by fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. His former pre-school teacher telling me once (while he was actually in utero), "Sometimes there isn't enough play dough for some kids."
Having a kindergarten teacher who attended a conference on SPD and first introduced the disorder to our family... having 1st grade teachers who have known him since he was born & worked closely with the kindergarten teacher to meet him and love him"where he is at."

Today is day 101 in 1st grade at school. The children dressed as dalmatians, donning black & while.  They individually created projects out of 101 black & white objects.  We had to carry the project , a NASA command center, into school this morning.  It was so fun to see all of the projects; help a boy re-build after his project crumbled in his backpack; ask about their construction process.

This morning the whole school was starting the day with a chapel service. My 1st grader asked, "Mom, would you like to join us at chapel?"

So I tagged along in my gray velour sweat suit, sat on the floor Indian style between two 1st graders.  The chapel began with singing lead by Covenant Christian High School students (a few babysitters that watch the fellers). Then the message was given by a CCHS senior about being different.  She was born in South Korea & due to an infection as an infant, has hip & pelvic dysplasia. She was adopted by a DeMotte family, and shared how the Lords plan for her life has unfolded.

She shared that we have to take the differences in how the Lord uniquely created each of us and use it for His glory.  She asked the students what they wanted to be "when they grew up" (I didn't raise my hand, I'm still figuring it out).  She brought the mic to my little fellers face and he replied, "An engineer."

What followed was a flood of joyful, fearful tears down my cheeks.  For the Lord knew I needed to be present at chapel today... To let Kim's story be used for His glory for our families ears to hear. My 1st grader whispered in my ear, "Why are you crying Mom?" "Because God has blessed me," I replied.

"Please stop crying," he pleaded. Boys will be boys.

The kindergarten teacher approached us after chapel had concluded... embraced me in a hug, hugged my son & told him how proud she is of him and his dream to be an engineer.

There are many other parts to this tale...
other ways the Lord has spoken to me through His gospel...
through my small group study of Bartamaeus ...
through other mothers He has placed in my life to be my sounding board ...
.... but those are tales for another day.

Kim ended her testimony with a passage from the New Testament....

1 Thessalonians 5

New International Version (NIV)

^"16 Rejoice always, ¹⁷ pray continually, ¹⁸ give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus."

Words of wisdom from God's word... shared today by a teenager... the Lord uses all of us, the meek, the weak, the quirky, the crazy... for His glory.

Rejoice... pray... give thanks... 

In the words of John Ortberg, "Everybody's normal, until you get to know them."

..."childhood sing-a-long..."

My husband's younger brother and wife live in our former city, a quarter of a mile from our old house.  What fun it would have been if we had stayed put and not moved 3 states east to Indiana... raising cousins in the same neck of the woods. But... that was not in God's plan. (I dont' know why the crazy website is formatting this with underline....)

My tale today is however set in that little Kansas suburb.  I love my sister-in-law dearly.  She is an only child, and calls me her "sister-by-a-different-mother."  She is an excellent sounding board for me, and will keep me in check if/and/when I get too crazy,
being one of my voices of reason...

Last weeks phone "conference" included a delightful tale about our 

3-year old nephew.

The local school district (where I happened to have joyfully taught & lived) continues to offer the Parents as Teachers Program.  An amazing feat as school districts are struggling with funding all over our nation.

Parents as Teachers hosts a weekly playdate in a preschool type playroom in one of the districts classrooms.  To wrap up the playdate the instructor gathered the children for circle time on the carpet.  They were singing songs, taking requests shouted out from the wee-ones... "The Wheels on the Bus," "Mary has a Little Lamb..." 

Our little nephew shouted out "Jesus Loves Me."  All adults were dead silent.  The instructor gave my sister-in-law a wide eyed look that silently said, "Tell him, no we can't sing that here."

But my steely-loved-one remained silent & gave the instructor a shoulder shrug and look back that said, "I am not going to silence him."

So the intructor asked the towheaded tri-year-old, "Can you help me?'"  Our sweet little nephew began singing... soon all the children were belting it out.... the parents were even joining in... in this "public school" sing-a-long.

What I find interesting is this... everyone knew the words, but were scared to sing them.  It was the children who had to lead.  Once they started singing, it broke the ice and the others (the grown-ups) followed.

What lesson is to be learned from this tale?  In the New Testament books of Matthew & Luke,
Christ tells his disciples to not hinder the wee-ones...

"Let the little ones come to me.... do not hinder them... for the kingdom of heaven is their's."

Sometimes the most poetic words are from the mouths of babes. How will you sing dear reader? Quietly? Silencing your inner child?  Will you belt it out for all to hear?

..."treasure..."

Happy birthday to my baby.... 7-years can pass you by in a flash.

Our youngest son turned 7 this weekend.  What fun it was to see the smile on his face...the joy in his heart.

It seems as though the circumstances of his life have robbed it of that joy lately.  He has been filled with frustration, a scowl on his face a large part of his days.  I can see it as body language defense.  He has to spend 7-hours of the school day "trying to hold it together." The tone and inflection in how others say his name. His body needing to bump or touch another object to "calculate" it's place is space. Bumping into something to hard and tipping it over, flipping a chair, rolling off the bouncy ball & body slamming into the table....
So many things triggering this negative body language.

Our son has been diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder. I need to interject that he is WICKEDLY intelligent, contemplating scientific theories and dillemas of history. The nuero-transmitters of his brain do not always send and receive the "messages" correctly. It has been described as a traffic jam in the brain. Like a puzzle with chunks of pieces missing.

His body feels like being an old Buick with no bells and whistles. Bumping into the guardrail to find it's position on the road... hitting a patch of black ice & skidding out of control, having inoperable speedometer & gages.  The rest of us are like Cadillacs.  We have all the fancy sensors in our brains, like a backup video camera, sensors to tell us if the road is slick, tailgates that can automatically open and shut...

His birthday however was filled with complete joy.  We ate piles of pancakes for breakfast and headed to the Lego Store, his two birthday requests.  When we fist entered the store, it was overwhelming for him.  Focusing in on building a mini figure meant too many decisions to make.  Eventually he thought through the process, selected one mini figure body part at a time & began to relax and enjoy.... to create.

One of the mini figures he received as a birthday gift came with a treasure chest.  He asked the Hubs if he would help his snap the lid on.

Our son then went into an oration about treasure,
"Some people would want gold or jewels in their treasure box. Me, I know the best treasure of all is Jesus, and you can't box him up.  You've got to share Him with everybody... showing His love and kindness to all the people you meet."

WOW!

Peter talks of treasure in the New Testament of the Bible.....
1 Peter 1:7

New Living Translation (NLT)

^"7 These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials..."

Demostrating rafting safety before
heading onto the Yellow Stone River.

So this weekend, I am thankful for my treasure.  The son the Lord blessed me with 7 years ago.  I pray that God will use me to show my son Christ's love and kindness.  To fill him with joy, rather than nag & be his "joy robber."  I am thankful that God is using my son to remind me of my faith... and the treasure that it holds.  When it is locked up in the treasure chest, you forget about it, do see it... you've got to let it out... to see, share and enjoy!