So Much

I'm so blessed.  So thankful for my life.  Here are some things I'm praising God for this week . . .

. . . group hugs,

. . . snickerdoodle birthday cookies,

. . . stylin' guys wearing stylin' glasses,

. . . bulk cooking once again,

. . . and friends.

. . . smart chicken momma wanting only the best for her babies,

. . . re-purposed quilt.

. . . Momma and her boy getting wet.

. . . joy all over faces.

. . .  curriculum.

. . . womb mates.

Icing on the Cake

It seems just like yesterday we took # 6 to the zoo we called home.  Hannah and  

Leah were just taking their first steps; Kyle, Adam and Kayla were in every activity there was to be in at school, and we knew we had an adventure on our hands.  I couldn't have asked for a better baby.  I think Rachel knew I needed her to be sweet.  She was so sweet.  Still is.  

The icing on the cake.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHIE !!!!!!

You are precious to me.

Then Sings My Soul

Sitting in the funeral home yesterday with Michael and the girls, I went from one extreme of emotion to the other.  Literally.  We sat close to the back because we didn't know the sweet lady who died, but we did know her sister's family, so we were really there to support them.

Michael usually wears a hat.  Either a cowboy hat or a baseball cap.  Since we were in the funeral home, the hat was in his hand.  I looked over at him and his hair was kind of sticking up in the front, so my eyes went straight to the wayward hair.  I didn't have glasses on so I looked at it longer than I probably should have and he had this look on his face with his eyebrows up, staring right at me and said, "Don't laugh".

He should have never said that.

You know how it is.  

Funeral home  +  wayward hair  +  "don't laugh"  =  uncontrollable laughter.

Oh, it wasn't out loud - except for one little squeak - but I'll tell you what:  I haven't laughed that hard in a really long time.  Too bad I picked that place to do it.

My shoulders were bouncing up and down for a good two minutes.  Tears running down my cheeks, my face all wadded up.

Started a chain reaction:  from Hannah right beside me, to Leah, and on to Rachel.  All sitting there with shoulders bumping up and down.  Not Michael.  He had a smile on his face but he was the king of control.

It was over as soon as it started.  I composed myself as the minister started the service.

There were two women sitting on the row behind us, down the pew a ways.  The younger of the two would talk throughout the service but you couldn't understand her.  I figured out that it was a mother and daughter.  The daughter was probably close to 40 and had special needs.

Close to the end of the service, a song was played that touched this daughter's heart.  And mine.  I didn't realize it until after the first couple of lines:

Oh Lord, my God

When I, in awesome wonder

I heard her as she began to sing along.

Consider all the works Thy hand has made.

Then she was quiet a little bit.

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder

Thy power throughout the universe displayed

Then, even though her words I wouldn't have understood if I didn't know the song, she sang:

Then sings my soul, my Savior, God to Thee,

HOW GREAT THOU ART !  HOW GREAT THOU ART !

Then sings my soul, my Savior, God to Thee,

HOW GREAT THOU ART !  HOW GREAT THOU ART !

She didn't hit every word, but there is no doubt her heart knew every word.  She had a connection to her Lord we all should envy.

She probably never went to public school, knows nothing of politics or world events, but she knows the Creator of the Universe.  Personally.  And she told Him how great He was. It almost felt like we were eavesdropping on her conversation with her Savior.

Blessed my heart.

I started the service with tears of laughter and ended the service with tears of praise to the Father for blessing me with a song from a beautiful heart. 

Then sings my soul . . . . . . . . . HOW GREAT THOU ART !

Beautiful.

Squeezing in the Thanks

I'm a little short on time this afternoon but I wanted to share a few things that I am grateful for today.  

Early morning walks.

Wad of baby in daddy's helmet.

Old lamps in every corner.  EVERY corner.

New wide margin Bible.  Yeehaw!

Tomatoes and peaches ready for freezer.

And today, especially grateful for sisters still living.

Be All There

There probably hasn't been one day in the last 40 something 100 degree plus days that I haven't mentioned that I can't wait for fall.  I'm so ready for the cool in the air and the smells and the leaves and the colors.

Especially the cool in the air.

It seems I am always looking ahead to something.

Always.

Several weeks back I was reading about Elizabeth Elliott.  Ms. Elliott was one of the first christian authors I ever remember reading.  As I was reading, I came across something she said that has honestly stayed with me and I remember on a daily basis:

"Wherever you are, be all there."

I constantly think ahead.  To the next project, chore, or meeting.  When my body is one place, my mind is usually already on to the next.

Sometimes when I'm really busy Hannah will come in for a hug.  I stop what I'm doing and give her a hug.  Then I do the "pat on the back because I'm busy" so I can get back to work thing.  To which she promptly replies, "Don't pat, Mom".  It's not a real hug unless I'm all there.  And she knows it.

Who am I fooling? 

 She knows it, others know it. 

 God knows it.

If I could only hug without pats, listen without glances, study without distractions, pray without interruptions.

Matt 22:37 says that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our strength and with all our mind.  

To BE ALL THERE.

I kind of think that if I do it right with Him, I'll do it right with them.  I want to do it right.

I don't want to thrive on the busy.  I want to take advantage of every minute.

So bad, I want to be all there.

Multitudes on Mondays

While loading up photos from family reunion, I filled up a couple of pages of gratefulness.  Thanking Him for . . .

# 161 . . . brother love.

#  162  . . . uncle love.

# 163  . . . fried potato love.  Nanny to granddaughter - to great grandson.  Eli peeling potatoes with his little tummy sticking out.

# 164  . . . finding grandbabies in random places.

# 165  . . . Monty and Cathy with their kids and their extra kids.

# 166 . . . our new personal family chef.

# 167  . . . Christy and Cary, mom and daughter close.

# 168 . . . smiles for mommies playing games.

# 169 . . . short legs hanging with long legs.

# 170 . . . KP fellowship.

# 171  . . . KP fellowship with Jade and Lynn.  I love them.

#172 . . . KP fellowship from Eli who wanted his name on the list every meal.  Precious to me.

# 173 . . . gravy in iron skillet

# 174 . . . bacon dipped in gravy

#175 . . . gravy all over baby face

# 176 . . . games under lights

# 177 . . . lights over games

# 178 . . . water reflecting moonlight

#179 . . . life verse given at a young age to a boy who would rest in it often, even in to manhood.

# 180 . . . the boys men in my life

Looking back at the laughter with happy tears.

OVERWHELMED WITH A THANKFUL HEART.