Tis...the last day of the year.

I got my 12 days of rain and then some. I got decent grades from my children. We are still going into the new year in the red. I will not pray for money, but for provisions, to get current on all outstanding debt. That is a heavy burden I must say. Even with the blessing of health and love and peaceful interaction, in the family; a year in the complete red can daunt the spirits. I am ashamed that I had intentions of training for a marathon and that didn't pan out in the least. If I walked, there seemed always some tripping element in my path, to hurt my knee.
The Hoedown dance was my exercise of choice, I still haven't been able to get all of the steps down, like my children. Pop it, Lock it...Hawk in the sky and then I am lost. That took the place of the hamster dance and thriller for 2009's latter end. Oh, and woe, I am aging and I am trying to keep up with that little fellow Ezra. I can't play Wii everyday. Reading has been some sort of a generation gap filler for us. He understands that I can't be a playmate as I was with just about all of the rest of them. It is very disturbing that they are unkind in their play with oneanother as they are, at times. I can relate, though not approve. I am not around them enough to apply the law of kindness to their interactions. I guess I should be grateful that they are applying the Word of God to their own interactions. They have become adept at reproving and instructing oneanother, sometimes maybe too much.
Still, the year has been crowned and inhabited by the refreshing of the Lord in our family interaction. We still are trying to use 1Cor. 13 as a guide in relating in marriage and in family life. God used the messages at church to provoke and unify us in our faith. The messages from Pastor Ryken were a prod and a stirring up of some of the things that are making this midlife a difficult portion of the sojourn, it was enlightening. I am very glad that he turned tail from that meditation straight on to 1 Cor. 13 or I would have been in the slough, with no relief. Duties are calling, the first of which is love.

The Sun is UP!

It is nearly 8 o'clock and the dark sky looks, much like it did at 3 am. Christmas early festivities have diminished and the crew is watching a movie. The children say that when there is lightning, God is taking pictures of us. We got the rain that we wanted for Christmas. We have love, oneanother and all the presents in the world can't pay for that.
Rich in kisses, even though they are getting too old for them as often as I'd like. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night?

I think I lost Peachypoo to the snow

I do hope that peachypoo will be alright. She got caught in the snow and she has been brown ever since. I have never seen her like this. She is really touch and go. I should have kept her inside or brought her inside earlier. I am sad that she has had to go through this tough time. She should be hearty enough to make it through this difficulty. I do hope so!

The First Game of Parenting.

Deuce, Advantage Mommy, First game of the first set goes to me. I held serve, as it were. When I look back, I see that I really could have lost it there. My emotions were so on end. Grandma Delaphena looked at both of our babies, Ju and mine. She held Nettie on her lap first and looked at Ju and said, not another. Don't have another child. Oh, no I thought. She took Elyse, they were a week apart. She looked at me and said, you can have as many as you wish. But not another for Julia. She could see the emotional strain that mothering is and giving wise greatgrandmotherly counsel. I should have said Grandma, do you really think so? She said, your husband is one of those helpful men, who is as much a part of the parenting as you. Like Milton, she referred to Uncle. This was a good man to them. I do have an understanding husband. They had seen many men in their 90+ years. I took this to heart, I had the blessing of Grandmother and Great Grandmother, but I was still committed to have only 2 children. Money was a very large part of my thinking. I really was just about one inch away from a post partum break,from the first(maybe everybody is), but there was nobody to tell. Hindsight is, as it were 20/20. There was nobody to scream to about the fear and the pain and the emotional upheaval. Just pray and "God will keep him in perfect peace..." People quote scriptures to women and men on the brink of emotional disaster. Be warmed and filled.
Is that what I needed? Instructions and blessing from the elder generation? Scriptures quoted over my head like incantations to keep the "devil" away. Mom! You will be alright, I made it, you will too. Everything was intense in the emotions. If you say that you are struggling, you are not trusting God. If you tell people that you need help they quote scripture at you. Who is there to bear the burdens. Truly, No one ever cared for me like Jesus. I had felt a bear like angry passion well up in myself when others touched my child. I was never the youngest child and had to let others hold my baby. I don't know these people and I don't agree with their child rearing. I wanted to get out! God, you have to help me deal with these people. God you have to help me deal with my heart of anger and jealousy. My husband is brother to all of these people and I have to share him with them. My baby is the niece of all of these people and I have to share her with them. I am angry and I don't know what to do about this. I consider it a win of the game because I didn't hit anybody. I didn't cuss out anybody or bless out anybody as Christians say. I had been taught to respect my elders and all of these people were my elders. What is my responsibility to them, Lord. I wanted to be with my family, but the responsibility of church and family stole me away from the people who meant the most to me. If I tell them how I feel, I would be renouncing my faith, it felt like. If I share my burdens with church people, I would be bad mouthing my inlaws. They weren't doing anything bad, just different. Between a rock and a hard place and there would be many more games that I wouldn't win, but the first game of the first set. I won. I kept my sanity, as it were. Always feeling on the brink, but never really able to tell anybody but Ben and God. Prayer and reading guided me into intense communion with my Lord, out of necessity. There is nobody else who cares for me like that. I still need instruction and the bearing of burdens, but God has a way of showering His care and lovingkindness and tender mercies inspite of my emotional upheaval. These are the struggles that makes a man of God learn the art and the gift of counsel. Constantly dealing with an on the brink wife and not giving up.
I wish that I could say that there was "Peace perfect peace, in this dark world of sin" I know the Blood of Jesus whispers peace within. I had emotional struggles so the diagnoses would be, that I must not be keeping my mind stayed upon Him. What else can a person do to keep your mind upon Jesus and find peace?

To the Caucasoid Mountains!

I have a bad habit of traveling to the ends of the earth in my mind when we have other responsibilities. There are so many allusions to the intentions of God in the names of the places that are in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It looks as though God brews His intentions in good literature. How much we miss when we are afraid to carry our Bibles with us into the mines of good literature for fear.

Confessions of a MOMMABOSSY!^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Thoughts on the development of Femininity in our family, eg. Tom Brown's School Days movie!

For the Love of femininity.

Ms. Brown you have a lovely daughter.

Tom Arnold’s wife is the feminine ideal from bygone days. The symbol must be studied and devoured and spit out in contemporary garb. Not stupid! Trusting. What God does to build up a man that is cared fo and relied upon. He directs. The devil sends all of his ammunition against him. Here is a man of principles. He also takes the time to teach others to do this also.
He doesn’t need a devouring contentious wife. “Nyaaaa, I need, I want, gimme, gimme.” He needs support. Do you take this man? Do you support his principles? She said I do as clearly as the first day they were wed. Do you, Jayne take Ben to be thy lawful wedded wife?
If I disagree with a particular issue on the table; it is not my part to discuss it in front of Mr. Brown, so to speak. (from the movie) It is my part to be supportive and comforting in distresses and do my correcting where others cannot catch my sicknesses. God holds the heart of the king. Do I still believe that? I do. Do I still believe that God holds our hearts and can convince my leaders of right? I do.
God has a schematic that He is creating. God has a plan and a blueprint, so to speak that He has coordinated and designed. I am not the designer, just a spectator. If God allows me to be the wife of Obed Edom and Tom Arnold and serve God in the humble prayers and study, I will be most grateful. I must, add to my faith the process of faithfulness and mercy. Those are character traits much dimmed in my judgmental attitude. God has an illustrious balance and the qualities of mercy and faithfulness are feminine though not exclusively. Family does much to breed the human quality of loyalty, if there are loving attitudes and sometimes, even if not. God is faithful and masculine but in the family, Judgment belongs to the husband and mercy usually belongs to the wife. It was beautifully danced out in fictional array in that movie Tom Brown. Just one glimpse of the merciful picture of the spouse of the headmaster and that could comfort the deepest blows of body and soul.
The body can be trained to write in perfect penmanship when the heart is broken in a million pieces but the soul cannot be trained to hang on. It is the beauty of the comfort of women, exemplified toward Jesus before the crucifixion and other places where the comfort of women has brought someone from the edge of disaster.
I know that it can push someone over the edge also. I must try to add much more mercy for the heavy handedness that I often have a crushing influence on my children, may henpeck my sons.









Now look at the love picture in Sweethearts, with Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy and that is the part we play in front of the angels. They have no part in that kind of love!

Deuce, first game of the first set. The First Thanksgiving.

My first baby happened to be one of those adorable holiday babies. November 9th was just enough time for her to be ready for her first showing at holiday time. Dresses were donned, mother was ready. Where do we go? Living in NY, it had never been a problem to visit both families for the holidays. First we go to the Walkers for the food spread and then to my family to shake off the excess pounds:). That used to be as easy as pie. 1+2=3 and it shouldn't be any more difficult to carry 3 across the city, from stem to stern than it was to carry 2. She is little and she is a "good" baby. How hard could it be?
Ugh! I certainly lost that point. I am not ashamed to say so. Perhaps, I was starting the post-partum, even then, unwittingly. Nobody could have told me not to do it. When I look at the replays in my mind I am screaming, Don't do it! Take a sick day! You are going to lose your mind.
Not only did I lose my mind! I lost my health and ended up with a very severe infection from trying to nurse in unorthodox positions while sitting in Aunt Meg's small bathroom. I had not negotiated the feedings into my thought processes. Of course I am a naturalist and there will be no problem nursing with family. My mom did it all the time and everywhere.
I hadn't remembered that his was a family of mostly men. I felt awkward and sick and the baby cried and cried to nurse, more because she was overwhelmed by all of the new faces.
Where's my baby? Where am I? What are we doing? Why are we here? I felt aweful and we had only been at baby's first Thanksgiving for 10 minutes.
Sharing my baby would be a lifelong journey. I would learn lesson after lesson about God's mercy and grace which was just beginning at that session of spin the mommy. I came out of there busy and Truly Thankful! Sickness does that to people and don't try to take a new mommy's baby out of her hands in the first weeks.

30-40 Sharing the baby?

Hey now? Wait a minute. I am sharing her, but how long? Until she cries to eat or burp or get changed. If the rules are not set down early in the match, you will be the gofer and nothing more. Rules must gently be set in place and love must be the motivation for the care of baby being equal. This should have been instructed in the hospital. We didn't have a hospital birth, so it was my job to teach the swaddling and the burping and such.
I do wish that I had another alternative to nursing. That was out of the question for the stallwart naturalists that we had become. No plastic nipples in my childs mouth, unless absolutely necessary. This was a good thought but, at 30-40 in the first game of the set, I had a severe infection that was paining me and I was crying at every feeding. The doctor said the infection wasn't affecting the milk and wasn't dangerous for the baby. I took 2 tylenol 15 minutes before the feedings and that seemed to do the trick. This is supposed to be my serve. I mustn't lose this game. Hold serve and see what happens? That means, first serves in, maybe an ace. What is next?

30 All! Sharing the baby.

Others said to me, don't let him sing to the baby. She will get his voice. It would be wonderful for me to have my daughter have her father's voice. It is not the most melodic voice, but I have had the privilege of having my father's voice and I wanted my babies to share that with their father also. Well, now 23 years later...most of the children have their father's voice. I sang to them and with them, but the beauty and kinship of the father passing on his voice to the children is awesome to me. They sing like him and the think like him. That is something I do not regret, except at Christmas time when I am trying to get a choir together.

15-30 Sharing the baby!

Right after the birth

This man that you used to love above all is now holding the new baby. There is love for this little stranger that you could never imagine there could be. At least that is how it was for me. Why is he holding my baby? She is his too. Don't be harsh, don't be selfish. Share the baby with him. Share your husband with this little one. I am no longer the center of attention. He is now in love with another woman (a baby, but she does become a woman and you have to share him) and the rest of the world no longer asks how I am. I have become a milking machine and the child and her father are enraptured with eachother. I don't know if I bargained for this much self sacrifice when I signed up for motherhood. She's crying, it is always something I've done. She smiles and it is always something her father did to tickle her. When am I going to make a point. I don't want a service break. Go ahead take her around and sing to her like the proud papa. I will have my day too. Motherhood is a lonely and selfless job and here I am remembering the first game of the first set. 15-30

The sun shines again

I asked for London type weather and here we were forgetting what the sun looked like. It is refreshing the warmth of the NC weather here in the south for a change.

15-15 the first 2 points of the first set. (Down a break?)

The first serve was mine. I chose to have natural childbirth. No drugs, no pesticides and no pomp and circumstance. That was the first point and it was a winner. Nothing takes the pain away but there is a peaceful sense of accomplishment to the natural process. Even my dad, who has never been a mother or sympathetic to motherhood in the least had to say this is truly a human way to have a baby. I agree. Point 2 my serve was the feeding. Nursing of course but when. Right away? I did. I was sore for a month. Wait until the baby is cleaned up and you are refreshed from the process. It doesn't have to be that natural. My mother said get that baby off of you it has been an hour she is just nursing for comfort, she is not hungry. Okay mom! Too bad I was already too hurt to go back. 15 all.

My Saturday schedule is first to blog and then...

to get busy on that closet upstairs. I will sort and sift and get that useless stuff into some kind of order. That is the business of today. I dare any of my,"Trugledites" to bother me on my epic quest to journey to the center of the collections that we have. I am blogging right now, but we are blessed with, just as God said, more than we have room enough to receive. This is why Joseph was so ept at dealing with more than heart could wish for. How do we organize the blessings of God upon the earth? This is the question in our home it is the question in our community and the question in our country and beyond. My job is to do what is before me or behind me or around me. The closet is today along with the other Sat. jobs that I have for myself. Thank God for the manifold blessings from his hand. Good friends, who care for us and will fix a car for us and bless us with tires and such. New days full of rain and sunshine. This New rainy day where we can work on the journey to the center of the...closet!

In memory of Timothy Wright!

Halleluia, for the wonderful music of Timothy Wright.

God moves in a mysterious way...

His wonders to perform...
These clouds of blessing are sure to burst with blessings on our heads...
Wetness and rain outside, for the third day turns my mind to the hymns of the showers of blessings. Showers of blessings, showers of blessings we need. Mercy drops round us are falling. But for the showers we plead.
Continue riding upon the storm our God. Provide for us when we don't even have sense enough to appreciate it, we pray.

8 to 80, Blind Crippled or Crazy?

This cliche' means everybody should get this: In whatever condition you find yourself, you should be able to get this. Even if, as may be the case, you are crazy.
People often say that they have been delivered and kept from mental illness. But, God can and does allow and permit breaks and even mental dimentia and He is still present and GOOD. I think that He allows this to show us that there is only one condition on the earth, where He is not present at all. That is the condition of Hell. The condition of Hell is mental illness unmixed with the presence of a merciful God in hospital care: unmixed with human compassion, as a finger of God in your grief and pain. God is everywhere in time and space, but, if we are untouched by the changing grace of Jesus and choose to go into eternity in our pride and sin, we will know the consuming presence of the wrath of God unmixed with mercy.
God has preserved His wrath for the unrepentant, the devil and his delegation. Not at all a fun place. When someone sees the perceptions of his or her mind unable to be trusted, as in mental illness, that is a close perception of the mental agonies of Hell. Where is God, when I pray in that condition? I question. He is still present, in the sunshine that comes through the window. He is still merciful that there are people who care and keep you from jumping: to jump from the frying pan into the fire. To solidify the condition of your mind into the condition of your soul and body.
The devil came to Jesus and said, cast yourself down. Christian people distance themselves from the conditions of illnesses of mind and soul, adding insult to injury, more often than not. The God of compassion came across the sea to deliver the Gadarene, in spite of the concessions of the people to this demonic presence in their midst. They enjoyed the seclusion of being separated from the world by a demoniac, kept like an attack dog or expensive taxes to keep the riff, raff out. God is about deliverance and compassion to those who have been afflicted by such a state. He cares, when all of the rest of the world looks with antipathy.

Are we going to stay up to see the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown?

The Pumpkin patches are popping. If it were not for the Halloween extravaganzas that we enjoy each year, there really would be very little need for pumpkins. We grow them based on the need of the moment. After October 31st, we market Turkeys. Timing is everything when it comes to retail and wholesale.
Staying up to see the great pumpkin in each person in my life's time, has become quite a juggle.
Talking about alligators and wolves with the boys and relationships and facebooking with the women on the other side of the spectrum and keeping track of the teen culture rising in my home is like juggling 6 balls. If I still have my sanity after this season of parenting, I will consider it a successful season.
Jump to the task of parenting and wifing.

Kramer's Gone?

The puffy clouds seemed an oxymoron for such a manly man to be gone today. Kramer, was my racquet. Kramer worked and did the job. It was a magic racquet! I don't know if it was the weight distribution of the racquet or the grip, but it won many matches for me. We had wierd cast off racquets from Gramps and other people. I had my Chris Evert, warped and old and wood and my Jack Kramer, not quite as warped as my Chrissy. As though he had touched each one with his own hand. They were more like a Jai Alai game, but the spin was exquisite. The tightness of the strings, most perfect and the topspin allowed from the sweetspot was superb. I can still feel the bounce in my elbow when the ball is going to hit the line. That is it. You can feel it in your elbow or in your shoulder. It was as though Jack was touching you on the shoulder or the elbow when the dropshot was placed, just out of reach of your opponent. Bobby Riggs was the dropshot. Jack Kramer was the putaway. He is gone, but his strokes will linger, as long as we teach them to our children. His racquet didn’t last, {I don't know who designs these new racquets} but the sense of the ball going in, from that racquet, given to me by my Grandpa, will remain forever in my bones!

Parenting, down a break!

I am going to stuff this.......Foot fault! ************************Mouth fault!
They catch us, on camera and off guard. Nothing can stab us like somebody calling a fault on us in the middle of a thought. That thought is often directed toward the ball, but, when a person stands between me and the ball, they will get what the ball was intended to get! *((****(())%%%%% Is that self control? Probably not! but I am parenting down a break! Thank God, He understands when noone else does. Don't call footfault on me or you may get worse than that!:{

My crepe myrtle, finally decided to bloom...

Ginger and Snap gave us beautiful tiny pears in their first year and my rose bush has found it's terrestrial home.
Butterflies donn my home and welcome me daily. I am grateful for the attraction that my butterfly bush is to them. They come, they eat, they leave. But, not without being welcomed and me enjoying their presence.

The bush is nearly a tree this summer and must be pruned in autumn, if I will keep it in that spot. It shades and hides my front porch and gives me a happy feeling in my heart, when the butterflies greet us upon our return from wherever we go.

Silent "Sept"iembre!

Where did the time go? We are already in the month of Septiembre. The silent set is one of the most beautiful sounds to me. I love how the silence of September gives us a dream about the future as we attempt to prod the future of the world by challenging their minds in school!

When I was a little girl, I used to think that the Senators...

were the President's brothers. Because of the Kennedy brothers, I remember a debate that Julia and I had about that at 4 and 3. What is a Senator? A Senator is a President's brother! I demanded that that had to be the case. We were little people and we were involved in Politics wholeheartedly because of the Kennedy Brothers. It was a part of our childhood and it was a part of our teen years and it was a part of our grown life. Sympathizing and praying for the Kennedy family, because of the service and influence that they had on our country as the first Catholic First Family. We were inspired to dream. We were inspired to try. We were inspired to debate and cry and grow with them. Whether we agreed or disagreed, we still kept a sensitive place in our heart for their large and effective family and truly respected the service and the part that they played in the history of our nation.
Our deepest condolences to the Kennedy Family. God grant comfort and peace and help in this grieving time.

God is awesome in His weaving our factions into His will(denominations?)

The king's heart is in the hand of the Lord, Like the rivers of water; He turns it wherever He wishes.
· 2.
· Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, But the Lord weighs the hearts.
It seems that God is always giving us instructions in the mental level where we are. When we are young and impetuous, He shows Himself there and directive to our emotional need for direction. But a faith that is built on that part of your brain will have little stability. “Add to your faith” means buttress your relationship with God with doctrinal knowledge and obedience to His commands. If your passion cannot abide these disciplines, you are subject to the stumblings where those disciplines have not been practiced.
Lord, I believe help my unbelief.
He works in us both to will and to work of His good pleasure.
Some Christian groups infiltrate the mental aspect of faith by instructing the mental and conscience awareness of God early. ie. Proverbs 119
All of the disciplines are needed to prevent deceptions. Instruction and Inspiration to a deeper love commitment to God are needed in the teen years to help to assuage the tendencies to wander. The more generations that we have had light the more we will be responsible for taking the Gospel on the offensive. And the more light that we have personally available to us the more that we will be led, into proximity to principalities and powers to do battle against the principalities and powers.
I think that we do ourselves an injustice by becoming so individualistic about our efforts against the enemy of our souls. God’s promises for being more than a conqueror is to the Church that the gates of Hell will not prevail against it. We will be held responsible for every generation of light that we have access to in grace and the right usage of it. Where we are neglectful in our own souls and in the souls of our loved ones we will lose ground, if not shipwreck ourselves, either in one area or in the entire thing. Walk circumspectly. Throwing out the entire history of the Christian Church in every generation is pagan to say the least. It is akin to acting as a dominant culture and taking every other culture captive to our generational dominance. We cannot continue to burn the libraries of Faith for the generations because we cannot reconcile the sins of that generation with our own. We don’t want to own up to our culture’s besetting sins so we act as though they never existed nor have any impact on where we are and where others are instead of confessing and repenting our sins and not throwing away our elders’ writings and lessons of faith because they are tainted w/ besetting sins. Ie. BB Warfields writings.
Honor your father and mother and learning from the Lord is essential to growing in grace and learning and taking our next generations to the next levels in faith, if not maintaining. We keep dumbing down our education and our religion because of our felt need to dominate and to deny the errors of our forefathers. We are supposed to learn from the good and repent of the bad. Why can’t we grow in grace? Is a question we ask in this generation. We are just getting saved and getting saved and getting saved. Lord, help us to grow in grace and in Your knowledge.
Where are the hymns of faith? Where are the battles won? They are here, but…

Imposing, Majestic, MOst Powerful, August, God!

Worthy of all of the praise and honor and glory.


Not unto us, Not unto us, Unto Thy name be all of the glory, My August God!

The heat of the summer sun in August is

just a glimpse of the August Character of our God. He is a consuming fire. God has so much for us hidden in the vastness of His gifts to us, in the earth and in His Word that we are blind and not looking into the mines of His many treasures for us. Halleluia to the August God! and the God of August!

August!

He is powerfully Omnipresent! God is an everpresent help in the time of trouble. It is amazing that the God, who is everywhere, all of the time, can be "more present" sometimes, than other times. He created us to have communion with him. Awesome that He loves to relate to such little people when He is so great! August!

He's the light of my life! August!

He's the light of my life, the fire in my soul, the love of my heart: that sings forever. Jesus is mine, yes He is mine!

Full of Splendor and Solemn Dignity!

Yes He is! God is the fullness of provision, the thought of all things being fulfilled. He is the fullness of everything all in Himself. In a word August! The completeness of everything. He is!
If you look at a full field of corn He is more than that because He is not one bloom unfruitful of small or mishapen. He is the completeness of everything.

Impressive!

Isn't He? God is impressive in all of His ways. I do take this month to concentrate and to meditate on the August and the Impressiveness of the God who created the month and the days and all that we see and don't see.
He is impressive, even in His humility. He doesn't even sign the work of the paintings of the sky that He does for us daily.
He is impressive and August and I praise Him for that. My superlatively Impressive God is worthy to be praised!

A Gust of August, August,

The month that represents the Glory and Honor of God. August, August. I feel like we should say, Yes He is. It is August. Isn't God just August! Amazing and Intense and Powerful and worthy of all August. Just Glorious.
Welcome August! As August as you become you will never be as August as He is! Praise!

Motherhood is more than leaking out nutrition.

Where does baby milk come from? I don't know. God makes it in our body somewhere. It is the result of some lactational process, a mysterious one. I did this for so long with my children( nearly 2 years for everybody but Ezra), that I really don't know how to do anything else. Is there life after they don't need the milk anymore? Is there a purpose for you when they can't get sustenance from your body? Now, it is about grooming them in and through life. Mother??? they always say, is this right? is that good? is this enough? is that appropriate? That is the baby milk of the toddler and middleschool years. Occasional references for the wellbeing of the soul.
Am I your Alma Mater, my son? Is your soul mothered and reared under the apron of your mother, or are you deceived into the soul of the beast and the world; which could care less for the health and well being of your eternal soul? Beware? The deceptions are numerous. The truth is as simple as baby milk. God is caring and loving and right.

He has already told you, O man, what is good.
What the Lord requires of you.
But to do justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God!

God leads His sheep like a shepherd...

When we see that people do not take compassion on the humility of the child bearing years, they are not following God. It is truly a humbling and humiliating experience. Noone who hasn't gone through those things knows the real humiliation of not caring who sees what when you are ready to deliver. The most modest and the most illicit are the same when it comes the the childbirth experience. The pain and the determination is the equalizer. The culture who is sensitive to the care of God for the birthing process is following in the footsteps of God who is compassionate to His own.
They are my children, because I went through that to get them. My heart is sensitive to their cries where ever they are. As my days and as the days go on, my ears may dull and my heart may not still be moved with compassion for my own child, but the pain of what happens in the child birth experience is what makes me alive to my baby's cry.
He says that He is the God who is more compassionate than the most compassionate mother. He has endured more pain for our salvation than a mother. He leads His sheep like a shepherd and gathers the lamb in His arms and carries them in His bosom and gently leads those who are with young. The hardened of heart drive the sheep and cut open the mothers and add insult to injury. God teaches and comes down to our cries. God is sensitive to the process, because He created it. Blessed are the people whose God is the Lord. In other words when God is merciful He establishes a people who can grow useful and intentional people.

15 minutes with Michael is enough this morning?

My muscle are feeling the burn. I really feel that Michael was the Guy Lombardo of our generation. He made us dance, he made us cry, he made us move and we certainly cannot blame my obesity on his efforts. He and Richard Simmons do the most to get me into a routine of working out. I am sweating to the "Oldies"! A little cardio to keep me alive for my children.
I took a glimpse of the routine that he was going on the road with and it was spectacular, just a little moment of seeing him working out is inspirational to my workouts. I wish that they would go on the road with that show and do tributes to his unfinished last act. I would enjoy it. He was still dreaming and still pressing us to the next level in cardiovascular health. I have to thank God for him. I probably would have had a heart attack years ago, if it weren't for him. It is ironic that it was his heart that gave out, when mine is pumping because of his arts. He is the professor of music and dance that I will always have, as long as his music lives.
Listen to "Blood on the Dancefloor"! It is super. I get my weights and my step and move...
I am working up to more than 15 minutes!

God is good in Childbirth.

He does not allow it to consume us. There is a little person inside and we are its sustenance and bed. They are little and I am big. He gives so much added grace during that season that now that I have been past the years of child bearing the sense of that grace missing is nearly palpable. You need every bit of the grace that God bestows in that time. If you can borrow somebody elses graces, go ahead, you are going to use it all up in the end of the pregnancy. Some ladies walk about stoicly and seem to feel no discomfort and no estrangement from normalcy, I am not one of them.
Yall pray for me. I am going down the line again. I am going through this. There is another little one coming in our house and I am not ready again!:{ Unfortunately, I am not the best example of the well planned family. But I trust that God, who knows our frame chose each one to give to us, like a surprise party, every so often. God has provisions for His little ones. God has the strength and the grace. It may not feel like it at the time. Somebody may have to come in and help, but, even that is Him!

Angela's Ashes, 'Tis, What an Illustrious Man....Frank McCourt? Gone!

What awesome memories and comeradery poverty brings! God bless the memory of a man like McCourt, who could make us laugh so hard at the sadness and silliness of childrearing in the darkest times of history. Not enough to go around; raisins in the muffins like diamonds: scarce, fought over. What a man, to remember with fondness the fighting and grumbling and growing pains. The pains of his birth and his mother’s birth, all having a purpose in the divine scheme of the providence of God. God created us all: the wanted, as well as the ignored. The children of the rich and the children of the poor. God gives us all things richly to enjoy and he helped us to enjoy the joys of poverty, if there can be said to be and enjoyment of it. I wanted to hear him read that passage, just one more time. It is not the same when I read it. They tore down the walls to heat the house and negotiated with the landlord that they had fewer rooms. We rolled at the thought of such a thing. This was truly an exaggeration. It makes us who have endured some want in life know that we will grow past those days. We can appreciate the difficult along with the prosperity. The land where we are, has many provisions for poverty and the impoverished and there are people who struggle and scrimp and save, but nothing like the potato famine. Nothing like the days of the French Revolution, nothing like the Holocaust. Nothing like the poverty of the third world, these stories of dire and unmerciful elements are close to obsolete in America and we can laugh at the storms. Tell me this isn’t Eden?

God was showing man that it is not worth it to sell God down the river. You will never find the satisfaction anywhere else in the world. Still, God is God and he did give the woman to the man. How can we have a relationship with God and one another. Poverty and simplicity of heartaches all over the world were the consequence of sin. Now clean it up. Now birth life, already. Everytime we birth life, we also birth death with it. Choose life.

Laughing about the sadness is definitely one of the healing balms. McCourt was the spoonholder for the serum that could make us laugh about the most unusual things. Sad and sordid, but funny and real and all too often, true. I will miss hearing him read his own thoughts with the intonations that only he could give.

Childbirth,

The most violent contact sport. Continued from February 2008

Swaddled and protected inside my body, the baby does the utmost to try to find a comfortable position. Sometimes, it is to mommy's comfort and then the baby gets way to big to house comfortably. Morning and night mother tries to find a way to sleep that will not impinge on baby's comfort. There is a struggle between mother's comfort and baby's. I had one who lodged herself in the crevace of my thigh, it seemed and I couldn't walk without feeling her head, blocking my joints from full motion. That is what it felt like. She was making her own way inside my body and she has been making her own way ever since. Some babies are placid and go the right way and turn and move at the right time, even then, the consideration is when is this baby going to get out of me. My maternal comfort will never be the same.
It eats what I eat when it is in me and my stomach and gas and indigestion and morning sickness is a monument that another human being has taken up residence and is fighting or pounding my insides. I am torn by love and comfort. I can decide whether to enjoy the ride of this season, or fight against the process of human reproduction which is happening inside me.
Thank God for the painkillers which have allowed the birthing process to have much less discomfort, but, I was one of those stalwart ones who would have none of those. The first 4 pregnancies, I went without any meds at all. A horrible thought. I am terrorized at the thought of going through that pain for hours without meds. Take the medicine! They are going to suffer with brain damage with or without the meds. You really can't tell the difference, in their personalities with or without meds. It's your mind lost or theirs. I say, they will grow new brain cells, so you take the meds because you will need your entire mind to raise them. Take the meds! Whatever deadens the pain and allows you the most comfort in childbirth take it! Don't ever do what I did! The most people who tell you to go without meds are men who don't go through the pain and like to see the result of an awake and lucid baby after the process is over.
It is a violent process. It is a primitive process. There are forces at work that are far outside of your control. You have the worst pain you have ever endured. You have the greatest love that you have ever experienced and you have to share this with somebody who doesn't feel anything of the pain himself and claims as much a right to this little one as you. Are you kidding me? "You are going to take some of the credit for this beautiful creation of God that I am holding after the little part that you played?" I love you and everything, but I am not sharing my moment in the sun with my baby with anybody. Then the baby poops or throws up and you gladly give it to the partner parent and blame that part of the baby on him. :) The beautiful part belongs to me and the ugly part is the other guy's fault. We can't have everything!:{.

Robert Strange McNamara

Architect of the Vietnam Conflict is gone. What will we say about that generation in history? Were they really more impulsive than their predecessors. I don't think so. Just the microscope was on their every decision. At least there were men that were still alive to lead and direct us. Regardless of the fact that I disagreed with that war and that conflict. There was an entire group of men that were committed to that conflict and spared neither life nor limb to defend us. God bless America that there were men who think. What will we say about our generation?
Will Obama's cabinet make any productive decisions? Will they accept the status quo? Will they inject some hope and incentive into this rollercoaster economic status that we've inherited? Someone has to do something. The death of a real man like McNamara marks the end of decisive manhood. Making a decision where the lights and the cameras are on you! He was the first of the talking picture men to do that. I don't think he made a right decision or a good decision, but decisive and forthright, he most certainly was. We must continue to pray that although this President and cabinet is young like Kennedy and McNamara, God will direct them and affect them toward life and not toward death as in those days. Cuban missile crisis, Vietnam, there will always be wars and there will always be men who play at leading. God raise up the men like the McNamaras who will stand and make decisions and stand by them in spite of the populous and considering the populous.

Who was one of the architects of the Industrial Revolution?

Frank Gilbreth, I consider, at least one of the major players in the industrial revolution. Not because his theories and concepts were new or vital, but because they worked with his children and his children rose up and called him blessed. He had a God fearing determination to maintain the family concept, in the midst of as many conflicts against the family as we have and he won. I read his parts of his books and they were full of good common sense and industry. He won because his army was trained and large and motivated against the enemies of family values. Productivity is first developed in the home. Industry is first developed in the home. Livelihood is first developed in the home.
Who will be the architects of the Technological Revolution, now that we are well into the Phase 2 of its success. If it cannot support and defend the union. The union of one woman and one man and their offspring, it will disintegrate and splinter all that we have inherited. Woe unto us when there are many princesses and princes in the land. Every man is living for himself. If we cannot agree how to develop the system to work as a union we are slated to destroy ourselves and the next techtopia will build upon our ashes. God doesn't need us. Honor your father and your mother...Thank you Gilbreth family The World's Work, May 1916 for preserving his honor.

Goodbye Farrah!

Beauty and grace are fleeting and off they have flown. She is gone, but God showed a beautiful love story of a man who stood by her through the transformation of beauty into the eating away of the sickness of her body. The fire of cancer ate her up, but she was able with the love that stood by her to be comforted in this life, even when beauty was not as effulgent. Love is a gift from God and they showed that love, although not vowed to each other or to God, it was true and tried and tested and stood. They loved and showed and proved love and if you find a friend that will stand by you when you are in the ravages of pain, much less a lover, you are a blessed person. Most people say, smile the world smiles with you, cry and cry alone. The best of friends and intentions of vows is tried in such circumstances. Suck it up and keep your emotions to yourself, people think, if they don't say. When the terror of pain hits you, as with childbirth or cancer or other fearsome things and you say, I just cannot face this terror; God sends a person who can hold your hand and represent Him in the midst of the darkness and deepest night. He is there, but we can only see Him through a representative, sometimes. Love is the representative through pain. I don't know if the sin is in not vowing, or if the sin is in vowing and not paying the vow. I will be with you and trials come, and off they fly. I don't know if I can represent the truth of God's love with you. Lo and behold, I am given strength to stand up to the test, to some degree.
Love is there and when you hold onto it the darkness doesn't seem so large and the pain doesn't seem so deep and the cavern of falling doesn't seem so ominous. God is bigger, I can see love. I can't see God, because He seems shadowed by pain and fear. That is what we aim for. To be present to the moment. True to the situation. Faithful in the fearsome pestilence that threaten our souls. Holding on and representing the love that God has given us the flag to uphold. Model and show that, that is more beautiful than any form or figure on earth.
I think that Farrah was a model in life and form and in death and love.


But, it is better not to have vowed than to vow and not to pay.

I went to New Jersey with Dad...

The first time the Jackson's were on the Ed Sullivan show. Why? Why? What? Are we doing going to pick up an aunt from NJ when the Jacksons were going to be on tv? I am gooooing to MISS IT! I was angry and sick. I laid in the back seat, totally upset, that I had to be the riding partner on that trip. I am going to miss Michael Jackson? Do you understand what that means, Dad? Nope! This meant nothing to him. You will catch it on the reruns. Nope, there are no reruns of the Ed Sullivan show. We went out there at the bidding of the grandmother and met an aunt and then we went home. I was silent, as usual, but sick to my stomach. He has no clue what he is making me miss. I grumbled and bumbled and kept my sentiments to myself. This man had too much power over my father's children. He did. That is true but this power was going to last, no matter what my dad did to keep me from Michael. We got home, just in time to see them. I couldn't apologize for my attitude, I was just still going to be mad. Even though I did get to see them that night. The fact that my father couldn't understand that Michael was more important than an old grandaunt who was stuck in NJ, was going to be my attitude. I saw them. They were the most important thing to me, that day and for that season. They were exciting and talented and it was worth every minute of the bad attitude, to me.
Don't tell me they were not the most talented young people, on the face of the globe at that time. We grew up loving and listening and enjoying and dancing with Michael. He was the best!

Where do retired "baby Momma's" go, when they've outlived their skills?

Just a whimsical sentiment, of course. What does a woman do with a major in birthing and lactation and a minor in maternal child conflict? Oh well, the world is full of them, I am sure. Maybe, not with more children than I, but certainly with more skills. It is a day where I feel that, the suffering and death of childbirth, care and consideration for elders, retirement is not all its cracked up to be. Now that my sanity and body are lost to the conflict, it is time to take a nap.

I do try not to say no, if I can help it...

Today, Mu would have said no, Ruth, definitely would have said no, My mother always said no. Why did I say yes? Just because. It is always no! The heavens even said no.
My girls had conflicting activities, both once in a lifetime events. We don't graduate everyday and we don't get tickets to see phantom everyday. I drove through torrents, for what? For the story to remember forever, mother and daughter, near heart attack conditions and making it to the arena and the library, all just in the nick of time. Soccer mom is practice for the real deal. Are the elements trying to come against my baby? Which is more important. God knows, but sometimes these are just the elements that try the mettle of love of the child. We can't do everything. But, whatever we can do, we try to do.
When I saw Terms of Endearment, I thought it fake that a mother would go against the establishment for her daughter's comfort through her sickness and death. I couldn't imagine that kind of love. I hope death is killed by the time we get to the door. But if not and if its anything like the storm we drove through today thats why God created soccer moms, bulldogs with lipstick on.
Mothering life and taking a sword or a stick to death.

"Coming to the net" on my children.

I am not a passive, aggressive. I am an aggressive, aggressive. That means that my children come at me with everything they've got, all the time. I expect to beat them, most of the time. I have to, sometimes cut them some slack, because their verbal and reasoning skills are developing. Naaaa! "Don't you dare tell me, all of the kids do this or that." I would rather you tell me, I had occasion to swim in the moat. I don't tell you all of my friends said no to their kids.



I tell you that, if you can do what you are doing with a good conscience before God, you have my blessing.
People look at the energy of youth and try to limit their pleasures as though there is sin in having a good time. Sin is sin and most sin, you don't have a good time at; because your conscience is screaming at you. When we try to limit people more than our parents did us; because of the trouble that we got in, what are we doing? Creating little Pharissees. I don't have fun, they say. That means that I am a Christian. I don't take my world to task in any way, shape or form. I would rather my children use their strength and get burned out having fun and say, I am a Christian, I had fun, I used up my strength having fun; I took some sinners to heaven with me. We had a blast on earth, doing this. God is just that good. Have a good time, take care of your body and soul, in the meantime and don't ask me, unless you really want to hear my opinion.
My knees are shot and everytime I feel that agonizing pain upon stepping on it the wrong way, I can hear Mr. T in my mind say don't fall on your knees without your knee pads. I fell on my knees at every opportunity and we won alot, because I did. I enjoy the pain because it is the remembrance of something bigger than I and something I lost in the seeking of a higher goal. I want my children's aches and pains to say the same things to them. I saw the look in Matt Lauer's eyes when he exhorted those Harvard grads not to let this be all that people say about them; that they graduated Harvard. His eyes were full of used up senses, that he couldn't even talk about. He seemed to say, there are a lot of things I did, that were stupid and the only thing that I can tell you; other than don't keep sticking people's nose in your privileges, is have children. That is the most thrilling life long stupidity that you can find. When children look into such eyes,burned out from aging and thrilling itself, they know that their efforts might be worth it, in the long run. Come to the net. Engage them in battle. Challenge them to greatness

The children are all growing hither and thither...

They are not to be cornered or held down to a growing schedule. The plants in my vineyard home are all around my head. They will soon be spouting shoots in other directions, but for now they are around me. I like it sometimes when its not choking me. They are all affectionate and precious. Goals to be set and aimed at, life to be lived and directions to be scored and set out upon. God is the guide and the motivation of our lives and if it takes us generations and years in this generation to score a goal, we will perservere. That is God's will. To enjoy His presence forever. Some of His presence is when we are all together. Learning to do something with all of that spiritual firepower is challenging. Doctrinal prowess is not always appreciated in this world's eye.
The plants in the garden must be planted and controled and that is the order of the day, inside and outside my home. God grant that we may see and pursue Your will above all the other motivations.

The reservoir was a perfect mirror, this morning.

I drove past it and the beauty of the ponds and the scenery here was breathtaking as usual. I wasn't distracted by the attitude of the woman beside me or the woman inside me, from rejoicing in my spirit at God's creation. "Don't get into an accident admiring the view!" My Emily commanded. She can't see it. It is too convenient for her to realize that this is paradise. She is overwhelmed with her future today. We are very blessed. This is a beautiful place and God is good.
My fuschia caught the attention of the young sparrow couple and they came with a peace treaty and some news from around town about my children's goings ons. On and on they cheaped. They came one at a time to let me know that they intended the messages for me and not for eachother. Just a little news from the school. Ezra got off of the bus alright and something or other happened to make Ethan upset. I told them that I would get the rest from the boys when they get home. Those birds are so nosey. I love it. I used to hear the ladies say a little birdie told me. But the NY birds are all about survival and don't enter into the banter like these birds do. They talk about just about everything. So hospitable.
The fuschia is blooming beautifully and we have alot of work to do to get this house ready for use by the children, when they get home and to make the week run more smoothly.

I didn't know that my "wandering jude" didn't like being outside...

She lost half of her leaves in the elements outside. She was a source of many lessons when she came to us, as a special gift. She grew quickly in my kitchen making friends of all of the plants around her. She wanted to participate in a close relationship with peachy and red fern and the figs, all at the same time. Every day I had to take her entangling vines from around the other plants. It was not time for her to cling onto any of them. They were only inside until the weather got good enough to be planted in their "terrestrial homes", as we call them. In the protected environment of the kitchen, she gave relationships her all. That almost cost her some vines a couple of times, if I didn't catch her, she might have had to be cut away from red fern. She likes the strong silent type:). When we took her outside, the wind was too much for her. I must find a part of the yard that is semiprotected for her to grow up in and she will be a beautiful contribution to the fauna community of my yard.
Still no leaves on my figs:{

My lawn is now cut...

My personal, landscape architect is wonderfully taken a hand to the beauty of our outside surroundings and I am very pleased with the results. Snap is trying to give me some buds and Ginger looks like she might give me some also. For pear trees, they look like they are making themselves at home here. Peachy is intent upon making me beg for new leaves and I have cantaloupe seeds, that we will be trying to see come up in this season. What a beautiful anticipation Spring has?

Peachypoo is getting some leaves back

Poor plant got a little too much air for her own good. I must've put her out too early and she lost just about every leaf that we had preserved through the winter. I had blooms for my birthday and blooms into January and even in February. When March came, I thought she was craving for the outdoors and the chill snap came around and she just could not keep up with it. She lost every leaf she had. I feel sorry for her now looking totally green. Its just not like her to be blooming. When she is happy, she is blooming and now she looks restoring and green but it is sorry to see her minus the blooms. I can't wait till she perks up.

"Cat-gut Your tongue?"

Yucky-poo, too many puddles were out there. My baseball hitters found numerous occasions to wet up the balls in various puddles. If my strings were cat-gut, like my old racquet was, I would have had to stop an hour earlier than we did. Whew! I am not mad! :{ I am not discouraged. The courts should be more dry tomorrow. The balls should stay in the court more tomorrow. I won't give up on you guys with this.
The pop of the new balls and the smell of the new balls quickly faded into grunge when they hit the puddles. I should've kissed those balls while I had a chance. Too late now, they are old and grungy. Spring training and a bunch of semi-motivated Walkerlings. forhands. What? What is a forehand? It is always back to the old drawing board in the spring. Like bunnies having to learn how to hop all over again, in the spring.
I had a little time with each of the 4 little ones while my Senioritis modelled her new creation dress all over the park. She's starting a new style. I'm with her. If I get her to make me one, I'll wear it to play tennis in. :}

Flutilla the one!

Where are you flutilla? You grew up too quickly. Can I flute now, mother? Yes dear, you may flute now? May I flute now, mother, Yes dear you may flute. May I not take the other courses so that I may flute? That fluting my dear, is a choice between you and God. Follow along. Enjoy your musings, your flutings, but know that all fluting will come back to sing to you erelong. You are a member of the band and an accomplishing flutist. Follow and do. Don't put it down now!

Learning to love my limas.

I love the memories of walking into Grandma Ruth's house and seeing her love my husband with limas. The smell and the look were often sickening to me, because we did go over there alot when I was expecting. My Ben, was often saying, at least to himself. How come you know how to cook like this, Grandma and this didn't pass down to my wife? He didn't say it like that, but Grandma knew that him licking his lips meant that. She couldn't explain our cultural differences to my husband, she could just be Black to him and help him to realize that eventually, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He ate her limas and he didn't despise me for my uncaring, despising of something that was beautiful to him.
I had learned to hate that spirit of condescending woman, who lived to feed her husband. And I didn't even know it. I submitted in action, but, rebelled in spirit. I would cook grits, because I couldn't get away from that, but I wouldn't even buy a lima, and I knew that my husband loved that.
God has taken that responsibility from me in His righteous judgement. Life is spared, but the heart is gone. Only the limas remain!

My Pressure Cooker is becoming an invaluable tool

in my home. I cooked another batch of limas in honor of the ladies. My husband loves them and I love them now and it makes me cry when I think of the many battles with mom to eat your limas. I hated them. They were horrible and I wouldn't eat them. I threw them behind the radiator and put them around my plate and did everything not to eat them. Now when I eat them I get heart aches of pangs of remorse, what health I probably missed, for rebelling in that way.
It makes me a little more persistent at times when the children combat me in some area or another. If I know it is good for them, although I never push the limas upon them, I will make them and I take out all of my arsenal to boot. They laugh at me when I get my broom like Grandma Ruth used to do with her boys. They say mom, you aren't going to hit me with a broom are you. As I look up at my, nearly 6 foot son, I say, " Oh, won't I!" They do as they're told so as not to see me "lose my 'ligion!"

Enjoying the beauty and blessing of my home!

I would stay in this house all of the time, if they let me. I am reclining in my lounge front room next to the half-bath at the bottom of the stairs. The boys used to slide down the stairs and now they've gotten too big to do that and we've reproved them so often that they know better. Its cute to look at the steps and expect to see one of them sliding. Now they saunter and catapault, they jump down all the steps all at one time, but they are not allowed to slide down the bannister-shelf. The pictures going up the stairs are already outdated and the childrens' growth is impossible to keep up with, if I don't try to stay in shape.
My Epsom Salt bath is going to be set soon in my luxurious bathroom that I could get lost in. It is huge! I think I will put bubbles today, to mark the day. I am still pining that I can't workout like I used to. Hopefully the next workout session will leave me without the painful aftermath.
I could sleep in my half-bath. I sit in there and dream of the colors and things that I want to do with it. Some days it is my recording room. The echo is perfect in there, but you can't have the light on, because the fan makes too much noise on the recording. We have a nice large mirror in the half- bath, where you can see your whole body if you stand back. The floor has so much promise and I know just what color, I want to put in there when this economic crunch allows it.

When I come home from work, I will spend some time in there dreaming!

The Snappy Day!

Ginger has turned all green now. You wouldn't even know that she was white and blooming last week. Snap is hanging onto the white blooms for the beauty that they are. The Snap is showing out in front. He knows that I haven't taken a picture of him in his first blooming year. Ginger thinks I am not paying attention and since she is in full sun all day, she bloomed quickly and now is full and green. Snap, although it is his first season, is showing out with the white plumes. Beautiful!

Happy Birthday to Aunt Ra Ra,

caught me with $100 card to my favorite store(this week). I took out my trumpet and my shopping buddies and "ta da da da...Charge it!" We went shopping. Through the store with 100 and more need than money. We, at first decided to split it, but as an afterthought I walked down one of the aisles and something jumped off the shelves and jumped into my cart and I know that it was meant to be mine today.
I finally bought my very first, pressure cooker. What? What is a pressure cooker? We really don't see them much anymore. With microwaves, who needs pressure. Well, I feel like I'm really a woman now, at least in the sight of the old ladies, in my family. Stage one was having a baby, then you were allowed to speak in a meeting. Stage two was the pressure cooker. The pressure cooker symbolizes cooking things for someone other than yourself. Taking the time to think about the needs of somebody other than yourself. Pressure to cook and pressure to be the momma and pressure to feed your children something healthy, like it or not and make them like it.
When I would come over Grandma Ruth, she would sweet talk my Ben. Sassily, she would lead him to the pressure cooker. You want some limas, Ben. I know that Jayne is not feeding you limas, is she? I should be ashamed, she was saying. Today, I am cooking the pinto beans, in the hopes that that will make me one of the old ladies, in the future. Passing down the freshness of love making in the kitchen. The home cooked hugs and memories that make traditions and life. I love you says the pressure cooker. Once I learn to cook with it. We'll see.

The blooms on Ginger and Snap are white and full.

It is glorious, the first blooms of my peartrees. They are young and this seems to be their first spring apart from eachother. Ginger is more ostentatious than her brother. Her blooms are bigger and more full on the tiny branches. She is not front and center. I think that this is what makes her bloom more vociferously to try to get attention from me. I do take a second take at her when she is blooming like that. Snap, who I initially thought the more outgoing of the two has become more shy with the front and center spot. He took quite a beating through the winter, but he is still hanging in there.
I await placing my figs and naming them and my Japanese maple. They are cluttering up my kitchen and I want them out on their own to adorn my future patio. Beautiful small blooms are coming out of Japanese maple and they are adorable, but I do not trust little fingers with buds.:{

Jehovah Raffa, The Lord who Heals

This is a sick day in our house and Snap has popcorn blooms to comfort us, outside our window.

We spent the morning talking about the book of Esther with the little fellows, probably a little much for them. But all of God's Word is profitable for something, for correction, for reproof, for instruction in righteousness. It will take the rest of their lives for them to recuperate from this morning's devotional. God is the healer of us body and soul. I will believe and trust Him that this good day that He has made, will prove to the glory of His will and to the good of my undying soul in That day. It doesn't feel good to be sick and to remain sick. But God is good and He said that He gently leads those who are with young. It scares me that if the past 20 years has been the gentle hand, what is in store for the future...

It's the Ides of March, and Friday the thirteenth and raining, all at the same time.

The absolute lowest part of the year, I suppose, is symbolized by the ides of March this year. There must be a poem about, if the ides is raining there are 6 more months of economic strain or something. The old people always had some way of licking their fingers and seeing which way the wind was blowing. A rainy ides could also symbolize a productive planting season. I don't have any of the old people in my life to ask those questions of.

My father-in-law was so chock full of these truisms. He would say this day or that day is borrowing from somewhere else, as though the seasons have a certain number of rain and cold and sun days and they had to pay one another back and keep calculations as to which month had too many of any one kind of day. I had never thought of it that way. Each season is in debt to each other season a certain number of days. It seemed, my father-in-law was saying: God is the banker and they borrow from him and lend them to us and we have to use them for His glory.
Now, what would he say about a rainy ides and the Friday the thirteenth and an economic recession all in line with eachother. He would say, God is sovereign and He will provide.
I have to believe him.

Mercy came running!

Appropriate pressure was not placed upon that endeavor and the ball hit the net.

Double fault! What a mess. Hit yourself in the head. Wake up and look at the next point in the match.

You toss and you toss and you must hit the ball and hit it hard to make it get over the net. If there is no pressure there is no movement. Senioritis is a sickness that needs a strong hand and an intense maternal impression placed upon it to guide one through.

I had no idea that her case was as severe as it is. I love senioritis, it keeps the memory of scholastics alive long past the senior year. This is my 30 year anniversary of having had senioritis.

No excuses and no racquet change, no bending down to tie your shoes again and again because you are winded. Get up and serve the ball. Put that maternal pressure to bear upon the backside of the child and move her to where you want her to be. Like it or not. No nonsense, so to speak!

Sometimes I swing too hard and miss the ball completely

Sometimes the toss is perfect and the wind is just right and my arm is aching to take that ball right to the ace spot. Not this one, says my arm and I let the toss go. I don't serve it up.

Does God say, first one in or this is for real. Does He give us a couple of practice serves before He enters us into the match. I have 3 girls and I have 3 boys. When I toss them. Up and down, like the little tennis balls and use the maternal pressure of my racquet to direct them into play, am I playing against God or against the devil. The devil is a very good partner and he buys you suzyqus and hogs the court. You could just about do nothing and get a very good score, but you will always lose.
God will let you play every point. He never ever hogs but you will always learn and win, even though it looks like you are losing.

Let that toss go He says. I argue with Him. I could have aced that one. That is my favorite toss to hit the American Twist serve. He says hit a flat serve into center of the box and see what happens. Then I won't get to put the ball away, I retort. But I will listen. I hit the flat serve and the other person gets it back. Something I hate, HATE to see. I don't want to have to play the point out. I don't want to stay in the back court, I want to serve and volley and get this point over with. That is not the point of the game on this parenting thing, says God to me. Play the point and I will be there in every rally.

Every rally in the back court with the Lord, is way better than winners on every point with the devil.

We got peachypoo inside, just in the nick of time.

She would not have made it amidst all of this snow that we had. I brought her inside for the winter for protection. But her leaves were drooping at the 2 days of rain that we had that she had no parts of. We took her outside to enjoy the wonderful rain and then. 2 to 3 inches of snow came down just as we brought her inside. She had a fun day in the rain and the children enjoyed immensely being at home from school. I hope peachypoo appreciates it enough to give me some peaches and not just the beautiful blooms which she is so generous with.

The toss!

I love practicing the tosses of my serves, volleyball and tennis. When I get the perfect toss I capow that ball to just the right spot in my minds' eye. It seems so easy when the cloth or leather ball is in my hands and hasn't a will of its own.
This weekend, both of my women were away from me. O my, what a heart ache. Not that I don't want to see them soar, I do. But these tosses out into the stratusphere are painful. I can't see over the net to the other side to where they are going. They are not made of cloth and leather and I am not as skilled as I am with a tennis or volleyball. Crosscourt to the backhand, American twist to the corner and then up to the net for the volley. They are stubborn. I will have to wait for a few more tosses to know the best time to hit these ladies into the courts of life and put them into play. Until then, I toss!

When I fall on my knees, when I pick up my knitting needles...

2 years ago my Ethan fell and broke his arm. Daily we were in supplication for healing and binding the bones together. We imagined the angels being redispatched to reknit those bones back together after birth. The first angel said to the second angel, I didn't expect to have to come back to reknit Ethan together, I thought we were finished with him when he was born...Look how big this boy's bones have gotten since we last were here with our kneedles." Thank God that the season of the bone and how God used Dr. Fricht and the angels to put that boy back together was blessed. He can do pushups now and run and jump and play with no impediments. I am grateful.
Mercy me, is my cry daily. Sometimes it is a broken bone and sometimes a broken spirit. God always has the right remedy for my soul, when all around my soul gives way. He is my help and stay, even though sometimes I don't like the angels to get out their knitting kneedles again and again for my ailments. But when I fall on my knees, with my face to the rising sun, O Lord, have mercy on me!

My neighbor's Crepe Myrtle is already starting to bloom.

I simply, do not know what they do. They are such a young couple, but their garden seems to know that Spring is right around the corner.
I am so sad that they took down the palm trees and the banana tree that they had in their yard.
It is beautiful that in a new community, the trees are all new and growing and starting to bud. Around the corners, there are communities whose trees are above the houses, Not many around here, though. When we walk around the neighborhood, there are young couples and young families trying to make ends meet. The children's bus picks them up and they go to school together and play in the school yard together. They will grow to govern themselves and I hope one another, learning the lessons that we are teaching them. Norman Rockwell painted pictures that are synonymous with the season that we are in. Little children, need a reason to continue on. The reason is for the glory of God. They don't know what that means. They only know our neighbors have a history in this community and so do we. They only know that parents and grandparents have set the stage for them to perform on and now it is their turn to be the children on the stage and soon it will be time for them to star and Star they will!

Golden Lady!

Yesterday, amidst little pomp and certainly no circumstance in our Lord's day routine, my little special guest star woman, shone brightly. Everything that she does is award winning to me. I am her mother and I keep trying to get her to give me her stuff. This piece, I fought with her about. I really didn't want her to send that piece in for the judges. I just loved it.
From the first design on the cloth, I was into this piece. Some of the pieces, I can't see the theme, but my Emmy always acts as though she is unmoved by my opinions of her stuff. I was very impressed and proud when she walked across the stage to receive the award for her design. She's applied herself to the process of developing her craft and she received her reward. Children are a heritage from the Lord and the fruit of the womb is His reward! I held a very big trophy in my hands, many times but none as beautiful as the memory of the day that Emmy was put on that table and showed out for the first time. Feisty from the day she was born and feisty to this day. There is absolutely nothing like the joy of seeing her do her thing!.
I was shocked, when we walked into this intricately ornate building and saw the stage and the stained glass and the many many people who participated, to make this day special and memorable for the award winners. It was prestigious and Emily gave us absolutely no prep for this. Many young people had entered numerous items into the competition, but Em entered only one. She is among many famous people who have also won this prestigious award. We expect to see this product go a long way with her.

Ginger and Snap are celebrating Valentines Day, leaveless.

This may be their first valentines day apart from eachother. Snap is stallwartly in the front yard awaiting his spring adornments and Ginger is on the side trying to peek around the corner at him. The rest of the grasses and the butterfly bush are enjoying the sunshine with leaves but not Ginger and Snap. Their aren't dead, they are just dormant.

We have 3 graduates coming up and each day

we are getting closer to that. Kindergarten, Eighth grade and Highschool graduates, there is always something cooking, but this is a big year for them. I am grateful to see the academic maturity developing as they three lunge for the tape again at this milestone. We do pray that God gives us help to guide and give them goals and enjoyments for their accomplishments.

Last week it was winter and this week it is time for Spring Cleaning.

We are starting Spring training, this week in the Walker house. First it is about cleaning the mud out from the winter slush. Next is running and walking and situps. Thank God. I have gotten up to 15 minutes on the stationary bike without "dying". That is my next job this morning after my kitchen is cleaned from the weekend. I just love the Spring coming in February down here. We have lived like bears in NY and used to the hibernation season. Here, we are able to get out and enjoy the sunshine and blue skies and beauty even in February. That is why my butterfly bush didn't even cry or droop at the sense of snow on it last week. It is as if it said. Next week it will be spring. I wish that I could develop that kind of attitude in myself. Spring is just around the corner. What corner? Even my delicate Peachypoo is getting back her shed leaves.

The icy leaves of my butterfly bush

are still hanging on, even in this somewhat bitter cold. I just love looking at them shivering and glistening in the sunlight. No butterflies have come to call in ever so long now. They take sweet comfort in one another's company and the companionship of hanging on to the branch. They are beautifully surviving, though not blooming in this season. My bush sways in the breeze and enjoyed the senses of the snow which, recently covered us all with white.
The snow came and left and all we have to show for it is the 8 snowballs preciously preserved in our yard. Not large enough for a snowman, but precious to us. North Carolina snow doesn't hang around to become a nuisance. It is just enough to bring us awe and carefulness, but not enough to make us sick of it!
I wonder that the leaves are green, in this frost and I wonder that she is not at all weeping and gaunt, at the loss of her butterflies in this season. She takes it in stride, she seems to know that they will be back and the cold will pass and she stands up straight. She grasps every experience of cold and rain and snow, she trims down for the season and joyfully embraces the new days.
I will try to learn from her.

Come, let us reason together, says the Lord!

I am so grateful for the snow which reminds us that the ugliness of my sins covered with the righteousness of Christ cleanses and heals and even glows. The glare of the snow and the beauty of the freshly fallen snow is the beauty of my sins having been washed away, by His blood and the precious healing for my soul.
What shall I render, stated David, unto God for all of his mercies. That was penned before the precious blood of Jesus was spent for the salvation of our souls. I will take the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord. The picture of our whole family enjoying a meal and one little child reaching for the cup that means that he belongs with us and calling upon his father as Daddy. That is salvation. We have the responsibility to call upon the name of the Lord and the healing which comes from that blessing and then raising the standard for the generation following so that they don't have to reap the judgements for the wrong choices, because this may cost us their souls. When a child grows up and sees the negative consequences of sins and we preach Christ to them who can clean up a culture, they reason away from God and it is really judgement for our sins that they are enduring. If there is a God, why didn't my mommy and daddy...Help us Lord to foster and shepherd their faith!

Given...

That the sum of alternate interior angles are equal to eachother, what is the sum of x+ 3 if the alternate interior angles are...

I don't have time to draw the diagram and finish the word problem, but God is so far superior to our logic and theorem. I plead with Him, Given... that we inherited a world of sex, drugs and rock and roll and the opposite interior angles means that I feel that my soul will never be totally free from the sins of the flesh, How is it possible that a human being be holy in this dark world of sin? Jesus prays for me. and Thank God, He has cleansing and healing for the darkest blot. Confusion belongs to us and if, given that my sins cling to me and I confess and forsake them and if we have the awesome responsibility to take authority over the wildlife, how much more, over the principalities and real sins which so easily beset us. Given, you have not meant for us to live stoicly and distantly from passion and relating. Given that You are a passionate God, how can we love oneanother truly and wholey, without falling into grossest of sins? Given! the God of glory is the ONLY answer to the theorem. NO! I don't think human detachment is the answer. We can love eachother. We can enjoy the love of the brethren and not defile eachother. Thank God that when we do, either by snubbing or by a wrong look or a wrong touch or proudly exalting ourselves over others, we have an advocate with the Father, pleading and making supplication for us to the Father. "5 bleeding wounds he bears, received on Calvary, they pour effectual prayers." Do I believe that they strongly plead for me? Jesus paid it all! No flesh shall glory in His sight, let we who think we stand take heed! GIVEN

Yo Mama don't dance!

We are blessed with the ability to consider and to think and the ability to move and to shake. I enjoyed the dance of my butterfly bush, with icy leaves, she was shaking her groove thing, and showing me how to do it! I enjoyed it immensely! You children know that you cannot say that your mother doesn't dance. She does. I especially dance for the Lord and occasionally I dance in rejoicing for other reasons. God is the Lord of the dance and I do pray for wisdom in my boogy fever! But until I do, just ignore it children!

My Fellow Americans

I am so very glad that I am not the President of the United States of America, but if I were I would be happy to talk to my nation about some of the things that we are going through and entering into.

I probably would say:

As a nation, we have been through many challenges in these last few years. Thank God and thank the able leadership of my predecessor for the direction and good examples which have gotten us to where we are today. This economic crisis is not the only item which we are or have been battling with as a nation. We have tackled challenges before and will with the help of God endure challenges and difficulties as we continue to wrestle ourselves, to remain ONE NATION under God. Some of the difficulties and challenges we inherit and some we have initiated and created for ourselves. It does us no good and just wastes valuable time to blameshift and throw accusations around. Our forefathers have created a wonderful vehicle for that and it is called the campaign. With that behind us, we grasp the broom of cleaning and go about the task of cleaning up the mess that we are in at present. It comes to the surface in the campaign and it will take a determined and unified effort to create a unified nation out of the aftermath of any campaign.
The American People have trusted me with this task of lending leadership and direction for the challenges of the next 4 years and I am, at this point, soliciting the help of God and the ablest minds that I can muster and the prayers and support of the entire Union to get us through this tumultuous time. We are not in a fairytale and the Presidency is not a dream, although it is significant that forefathers of every color have hope that their child can attain to the leadership in this great country.
It is time to pull up our sleeves and do the work that it takes to get this country out of the crisis. Let us pray and let us do and let us think and let us work. We can grow. We can work together. We can live and build and renew. Generations have, before us and with the help of God, we will, as well.
I thank President Bush and the leadership which has gotten us thus far. I ask your sincerest prayers for me, as I undertake this monumental task. God bless you and unite us, as a nation.