Westwoods

                              I have issues with a few words that are perfectly good ones to use. They were mixed with so much human clutter while growing up, that I learned to resent them. Yet, I am finding as I near the age of forty and am trying to guide my daughters through the mire of growing into wonderful little ladies, ladies that honor God; I can no longer ignore the need to teach them some very important basic concepts like modesty, discretion, and submission. Perhaps that is the way to teach them. Instead of teaching those words, maybe I could teach them the concepts behind the words. I still cringe when I hear them because of the visual images of my upbringing, not in the home where I grew up, but rather the group we were a part of at the time. However, modesty, discretion, and submission are biblical words that are very good words for women to embrace. Modesty was not shown to me in a way that made sense. The common teaching when I was growing up was that modesty mea

On Friday this past week, Bruce and I drove to Post Falls so he could take his written test for his CNA licence. It was a gorgeous day with all the proper arrangements made for the kids to get picked up from school and someone covering the mail route.  We had a glorious time, not because we did anything spectacular, but rather for the normalcy it felt. We were together on a small mission. We visited friends at a hospital, took the test and then had a late lunch at Red Lobster. We were together and basked in that.  While Bruce was taking his test, I sat at a table in the lobby and wrote about faith,  I prayed that he would pass his test while I wrote about faith. It seemed kind of silly at the time; to be worried and fearful that he wouldn't pass his test while I thought about what faith is and what it means.  He passed with flying colors and I inwardly sighed, "Oh silly me." What I wrote on Friday seemed a bit off after the testing we received this morning. I went to

                           This is what happens when we take a lovely spring walk.                Shaunti and I collect things like, moss, rocks and twigs. This sort of thing inspires us.      This should be fine as long as Toria doesn't see. She is almost thirteen and is every bit the cat's meow I thought I was at that age... Dear Mom, I am sorry for all the sassing and smart remarks. I repent for being so mouthy and thinking I knew more than you. I am paying for it dearly. It's a wonder you didn't throw your hands up with me or maybe you did.?  I think you deserve an award for bravery, patience, and endurance.     Trees are definitely for climbing when you are nine and wearing white and pink...                       This is what we created with out moss and stones and twigs...                Pussy willows overdone... It moved me. Not really. Just such strange beauty...                Sisters that are my friends.                Also...            

I used to think there would be a day I would 'arrive' and know that I had made it,  that I was a big girl now and would never again have to revisit that place of bratty, childish behavior. It catches you by surprise even still, the same way it did when when you were twelve or thirteen and you spent hours mad at the whole world because everyone was just dumb. And then, after the mad, you saw things weren't exactly what it seemed to be at the time. The surprise is the waking up from the tantrum and seeing where you went wrong. You began to realize there was a whole other side to the story you were currently living. You started to recognize the times you were maybe a little bit    whole lot wrong and that correction was your due course. That is the point you begin to grow up.  Before you know it though, life can take you for a loop and you are on another ride on the roller coaster protesting all the way, "No, no, no, someone get me off this thing!" At which point

When I was a little girl, it was all about the letter you sent through the mail and then, the wait for the one you would get back in return. I didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of the social media in my life.  I discovered this after analyzing the feeling I get after clicking publish on my blog post or after commenting on someones blog post and yes, even the dreaded times that I wait for a comment and wonder if what I said was dumb or what? I waver between liking and disliking anything that looks like self promotion, trying to decide if I should join the clutter of other social media, being another extra thing to do, and the noise of bloggers outdoing each other by posting something that spoke of more depth than the one before.  I have good intentions in all my thinking. I intend to not be a gossiper, meddler, accuser, criticizer, etc...Yet, I find that I go back and check that one thing an individual said and did they really mean how it sounded? And by tha

When you spent hours doing that horrible, daunting task, did you think someone would notice? The days you spent helping the sick one on the couch, did you want an award? When you pulled that guy out of the ditch, did he even say 'thank you'? What did you expect when you sweetly sacrificed hours of your husband's time with the family? Did you                                                                    want someone to call and say, "You are brave!" Did you think you would be praised every time you did something noteworthy? When you wrote your heart, did you think you deserved some credit? When you dressed up all smart and pretty for your husband, did you expect adoration? Those hours of car pooling the kids to school and other events, and taking husband his meals, were you                                                                                   thinking of your reward? The times you were a listening ear for a dear friend, did you do it becaus

When someone speaks your language... Your whole being stands still and you Take every word to the Top of your heart. Your ears are completely open, You hear clearly Without any outside Noise or distractions. When someone speaks your language... You hear the truth better, Your heart receives easier, You forgive the flaws of humanness. Because you understood Their point of view; You recognize it as your very own. Your heart says, "Amen". Yet, I need the balance of other voices. Ones that aren't my own. They challenge my depth Of grace and love. Another tongue stretches My knowledge of God; His way of blessing my life Because I heard another language. Disclaimer: I know nothing about proper form in poetry. Really, I've always disliked poetry. So, I really don't even know if this qualifies as poetry... Just thought you should know... in all fairness. This is what came out after thinking about how much I like when someone speaks my langua

    This is how my desk/writing area looks this week. Bruce bribed me to do the mail route for him today. He used flowers and cash for my purse for the bribe job. I accepted both and tried to be cheerful about it. The white mail jeep is losing its transmission. I found that out today half way through the route. I did the route in two gears today. I felt like the mini van on "Cars" as it passed the semi.   The bright flowers were the exact bouquet I picked out for a friend earlier in the same day my darling gave them to me. Do you know they are made vibrant like this with coloring? Somehow they don't feel real and I'm wishing I had picked out something less artificial looking for my friend. I was thinking, "how cheery," when I bought them. Maybe that's what Bruce thought when he got them for me.            This is what is getting me through the week. Remembering the hike on Sunday...Everything about the week has been like this hike. A surprise ar

Over the weekend, I had lunch out with a niece and came home to hubby putting in a dishwasher. Awesome! We lived a whole year without one, and the girls learned to wash dishes as a result. Not a bad thing. On Saturday, I had a bonfire in our backyard of years worth of old bills and records and was recounted with many memories I had long forgotten. The pile said we planted and harvested two fields of trees, that we have owned 'The Furniture Valet', and that we used to have a real phone with a thirty-two dollar phone bill. On Sunday, I started teaching a new Sunday school class, preschool, and was very impressed with the knowledge or lack of knowledge of children. One kid said, when asked if he knew what a conscience was, "It's that thing in your brain that tells you when you are bad." Another kid said, "I don't have one." [The lesson was about Samuel being told to "speak Lord, for thy servant heareth", for those who were wondering.] In

Because the others got too long and drawn out; I was advised to edit it, I am just going to summarize the main things I learned and try to keep it short.  The 4th and 5th chapters were every bit as full. My goal of writing it down, was to inspire you to study it for yourself. The study was good for me. It made me realize that the inner turmoil I often put myself through, is similar to verse one of chapter four. I often have a struggle going on in my being, to have a heart of compassion for the things I don't get. I feel fighting and quarrels and strife in my life when I see things in others that to me seem judgemental and self righteous. I spend unneeded time berating myself when others learn and grow spiritually sooner than I or at least it appears so.  It was freeing to realize, that is envy and selfish ambitions and it happens when I become too important in my own eyes and forget to praise God for what he is doing in his own sweet way and time in my life. What God wants from

I have the hardest time identifying what envy looks like in the flesh. Here's what I found in chapters two and three. If you are envious and have selfish ambitions, you will have the attitude of knowing more than others about what faith in Christ is. AKA, partiality. You will automatically decide who is worthy of having a personal walk with the Lord. -Partial means you look at someone and see their status of wealth and health. At a glance, you will decide if that particular person is a smoker, sun worshiper, owns a yacht, or lives in a trailer park.  -If you are partial, you will accommodate the person however you saw him. You won't genuinely give him the best chair in the house if they are a smoker, you might prefer they sit on the rocker on your front porch instead of in your recliner. Or, if they look and smell rich, you will feel bad to have them sit even in your recliner. They, in your mind, need white, pristine surroundings. -A person that is partial, will also be

It all started with a verse in Sunday school a while back. A verse naming envy as a sin. My thought patterns aren't like other peoples. This frustrates me quite a bit and as a way to counteract this problem I try to tell myself that I am just unique and special. When in actuality, I feel bad that I can't think like others, feel like others, process like others, you name it, the list goes on and on. And guess what all that berating falls under? You got it. Envy and selfish ambition. So, I believe it was God last Sunday, while sitting in church, that plunked me down in the book of James with these thoughts about envy and selfish ambitions. I have to admit, I didn't listen to a lot of the sermon. My brother, Dayton was the speaker, and I figured that if God wanted to grab my attention while sitting in church with scripture verses that were going straight to my heart, that my brother would be OK with that. Bits and snatches of what he had to say was along some of these lines