Ownership

We bought a house yesterday.

I know: a bit of a shocker.  We aren't moving though, rather we are (well, after home inspection and closing) the owners of a three apartment converted home.  Yup, we'll be collecting rent come February.  We will also be mowing another lawn, fixing three more toilets, hoping the water heater doesn't conk out and finding new renters when those who are there now choose to move on.

Crazisauce!

We've been praying about this and looking and praying and learning.  We really feel like this is what God would have us do at this point in our lives.  Cool things have happened.  Our realtor (who goes to our church) has been doing this for 30 years and has agreed to be our mentor.  What great advice he has given to us!  We've prayed for clarity and God has blessed over and over.

Sure we'd like to make some money.  We would also love to be fair and honest with our tenants.  We'd love to show them the love of Christ.  We'd love to pray over those who apply (hopefully) to live at our place that God would allow us to bless those that He would chose.  We see this as evangelism in a way.  We hope to feel free to develop a relationship with those who come our way.  Every part of our lives is ministry.

I'm so excited.  So.  Excited.  I know that we might get stung or lose money.  I know that this may be inconvenient with late night calls and added expenses.  I also know that God will use this in our lives and hopefully the lives of others.  Bring it.

Julia Koeman

It was one week ago that we celebrated the life and death of my Grandma Koeman.  This wasn't a heartbreaking time for me. . . although there is something very about my last grandparent dying.  It means that my folks are part of the next generation and I don't like that!
I loved seeing cousins, aunts and uncles.  I have a wonderful and rich history with the Koeman family, one that I don't take lightly.  They are a significant part of my growing up.  I learned to ride a bike while camping with them.  I learned from and loved my cousin Julie so very much--we were one year apart and she taught me tons--even how to become a good kisser by practicing on an orange.  We loved cutting down our Christmas tree on the Saturday after Thanksgiving and then having cookies and hot chocolate afterwards.  Picnics at Teusinks Pony Farm, Christmas at Uncle Jack and Aunt Joyce (great toys!), Uncle Keith and Aunt Marla took care of my sister and I when Kevin was born, planting corn with Grandpa, chatting about baking with Grandma, skiing in Colorado with Uncle Ted, hearing Uncle Ken preach. . . oh man do I love this family.  Guess what? We have flaws.  I know--you are so shocked that a family might not be perfect.  Funerals tend to bring out rose colored glasses and Grandma was not an exception to this.
As the bell rang one time for every year of her life (95--it took awhile!) I counted and marked her years.  At specific intervals I'd lean over to Gary and whisper "This is when Dad was born.  This is when Mom and Dad got married.  This is when Grandpa died. This is when we got married right here in this church."  He might have been a little annoyed.  Then again, he chocked on a Mento and distracted everyone with his coughing fit.  When I realized he would be fine, a mento aint' gonna take down my man!, then I had to try and conceal my laughter as Gary tried to quiet his loud hacking.  I also had to conceal my laughter when I received a note from my brother Kevin asking me if I could eat anything right now what would it be.  Kevin will often pass notes down during church.  He is also a bad person to sit by during prayer--we hold hands when we pray and Kevin does not hold a hand very nicely!  The service was 95 minutes long (Uncle Ken announced that we owed her one minute for every year of her life), so the chuckles were a welcome diversion.

Writing about the funeral is not my intent.  Surprising since I just spent quite the number of words talking about it.  The funeral was great.  It was the visitation that was our Holy Moment.  I don't get Holy Moments every day.  I'm writing about it to celebrate it and give glory to God and so that I can remember it.

The visitation was from 1-3 and 6-8.  Gary and I took our kids at 5:00.  We wanted to be there without any other folks around.  We wanted to focus on our kids and answer their questions.  We spent about 20 minutes at the church.  We loved talking about Grandma and how she was in heaven.  They asked about her body and if they could touch it.  They did.  It felt stiff and we talked about why that was.  They would run around and then return to the casket for another question.  Questions also arose about Grandpa Larry (Gary's dad) which I was so thankful for.  They didn't get see his body.  Before we left I stood at the casket and grieved and thanked God for this woman who raised my father and was a sweet Grandma to me.  She is part of my chain to Jesus.  She is part of the reason why I am a believer.  Garrison, my sensitive soul, struggled at this point and we cried together.

Soon the others came and we laughed and cried.  I love that God has placed me with these kids and we could share Grandma's and our belief in Jesus Christ with them.  I also liked it that I could comfort my kids but also receive comfort from them.  They need to know that they can take care of me too.  I'm also thankful that Gary grabbed the camera and captured my heart.  It was so thoughtful of him.

We left by saying "see you in heaven Grandma Koeman!" and exited.  I hugged Gary with tears in my eyes and said "That was awesome.  Our kids did great and they learned and asked great questions.  God is so cool that He made this happen.  Yeah?"  And yet I didn't know that I hadn't even reached the Holy Moment yet.
We got into the car, but before we could leave Gary and I heard our Simon's voice from the back say "I think we should pray."  We named him Simon because we want him to be like Simon Peter and have the courage to get out of the boat--to be a leader, to take risks, to stand up for the Lord.  Here is my Simon getting out of his boat.  "What do we need to pray about Simon?"  "We need to pray that Grandma enjoys heaven and we need to tell God that we will see her again someday.  I'll pray."  And then we heard two more voices "I'll pray too."  "I'll pray after Noel."  My eyes filled up again as we bowed and one by one my kids prayed.  They told God they were so excited to see Him someday.  They asked that He enjoy spending time with Grandma Koeman.  They thanked Him for Jesus because without Jesus we couldn't go to heaven.  Oh how my heart was just bursting all over the place!  This is it!  This is my greatest hope and dream and prayer for my kids--that they love Jesus and accept him as their Savior.  Each one professed their faith.  After Garrison closed with his Amen, Simon announced that it was time for a parent to pray.  I look up at Gary with tears streaming down my face and gave him the nod that said "you need to do it because I'm too weepy".  He prayed.  I smiled as I looked up at Gary afterwards and then I heard my son's voice again from the back "Mom, now it is your turn."  I huge grin broke out on my face and I was secretly thankful that my son wasn't going to let me get away without praying--even if I was crying.  I prayed and then we clapped because we are all going to go to heaven someday.  Yeah!

Holy Moments.  Thank you God.

Four kids

I love our church.  I love the people.  I love the preaching.  I love the awesome ways that my kids are growing and learning.  Good stuff.

One of the many reasons why I love my church is the different ages of the people.  Gary and I wanted to attend a church with 80 year olds and 2 year olds with lots of ages in between.  I've gotten to know so many of the older women.  They are so encouraging and funny and thoughtful and just plain awesome.

Today after church one of them came up to me a little upset.  Apparently there was something wrong with my Christmas card that I had put in her box.  She was upset because I had four children and she knew that I really only had three.  "When did you get another child?  Where did the fourth one come from?"  What followed was a comical conversation (on my part) to try and help her figure it out.  She only remembers me "having" two, so therefore I must have "gotten" both Simon and "the other one" from somewhere else.  I assured her that I had birthed my last two kids at our church.  I was a mom of four and had been for 2 1/2 years.  Still, she was right!  Surely I had snuck one in there.  :)

I loved talking with her and loved that I was able to celebrate the birth of Penny 2 1/2 years after it happened.  :)

Oh where I have been!

Senior Picture 1990

 So here I am.  A respectable senior picture.  I loved having my picture taken.  I felt special and important and beautiful.  Those bangs were beautiful.  My swatch watch was a stunner.  I thought my polka dot shirt with matching earrings was it!

I received this picture over the summer.  A friend from college had been going through some things and found this picture along with the one posted below.  I smile when I look at the photo above.  I do NOT when I look at the picture below.

O.K.

Go ahead.

You can look now.

Ugh!

Shanda.  College.  1990 or 1991

When I was handed this photo I gasped a little bit.  Obviously, I had put on the freshman 15 30.  I remember buying this sweater at Winona Knits.  I bought two of them: pink and white and wore them constantly.  Why?  Because they were one of the few things that fit.  Only there is a problem: I don't think it fits! 

Why is my hair in pigtails?  Why?

Why am I wearing those red/white earrings from my senior photo above with a light pink sweater?  Why did I get a perm right before I left for Calvin?  Why did someone not tell me about bras that fit?  Also, I believe I should have been taught to stand like a lady.

I know where this was taken.  I am still friends with the amazing girls who lived across the hall. We loved making crank calls, watching Saturday Night Live and changing our answering machine messages three times a day.  I'm thankful that they were my friends despite my appearance.  Though the picture is horrid in a very funny sort of way (I am laughing about it!), I love that it reminds me of a wonderful time in my life.

I'm also thankful when I look at this picture because I think I have aged well.  I must admit that I wore my hair in pigtails last week (see photo below).  Please tell me if is in inappropriate for a 40 year old to do that.  I do believe that I look better now than when I did in college.  My hair then. . . oh do you see how that dark brown doesn't do my any favors?!?  I am very aware of how undergarments can help.  I have more than two sweaters today.

So take a gander below.  This is me.  Would you agree that 2012 is better on the eyes than 1991?  Wrinkles yes.  But oh--that face has lived through tons and this chica has a lot more confidence now.  

More wisdom.  

More joy.  

More.

I think it shows.

Annie

My niece excitedly announced a few months back that she was going to audition for Annie.  Her church was going to produce the musical and she had the acting bug.  Of course as her aunt and fellow lover of all things theater, I was so proud.  I encouraged her and hoped that she would get a part.  I know that there are so many kids (I remember well!) who audition and don't receive a part.  She called with the good news that although she wasn't going to be Pepper (a fabulous part indeed!) she was a Hooverville kid.  Perfect!

Saturday afternoon we left Penny with a babysitter (who was named Annie!) and stood in line with our tickets to get the best seats.  We got them!  I love seeing big Broadway stuff. . . but my heart is with productions like this.  This is the stuff I used to direct on a high school level.  I learn and appreciate and laugh with a director's choices.  It is great.  While we were waiting Simon crawled on my lap and was still there as the musical began.  "Come on Annie, you are never going to get adopted."  The words rang out so loud.  The last time I saw Annie I wasn't a parent.  Today I was. . . and my adopted son was sitting on my lap.  I hugged him tight and fought back tears.  I know it is a play.  I know that it isn't real.  I know that Annie will be adopted by Daddy Warbucks.  I know that Jessica (who is playing Annie) is a Camp Roger girl.

I also know that I chose Simon.  Wait.  Not true.  God chose Simon before time began.  He adopted him into the family of God through the death and resurrection of Christ.  Then, He let Gary and I know that we needed to adopt our third child.

"I choose you" I whispered into Simon's ear.  He looked up at me and asked for a mint.

Ring Ring

My phone has been crazy ringing today--14 phone calls to be exact.  That doesn't include the times that I've made a call. . . I believe it has been about 6.  I'm not such a fan of talking on the phone.  It has just been a newsy day--Grandma Koeman is in her last moments on this earth--as my dad says--one hand of Jesus is reaching out to her.  She is just waiting for the other hand.  Can you tell where I get my flair?  :)  There was a lot of confusion this morning as dad couldn't reach mom to tell her about Grandma.  Mom hadn't turned on her cell phone.  Gary wanted to know if I had ever hear about pickle ball.  (I had.)  Gary also wanted me to run outside to pick up my cell phone because he was driving by (it was a spare for mom).  Two credit card companies called to let me know that this was my last opportunity to refinance.  Thanks.  There were questions about the children's Christmas program at church on Sunday night.  I also received two calls from school.  Two.  Yuck!  Garrison's stomach hurt and he just wanted to come home.  I'm still navigating this whole "is your kid really sick or not" landscape.  He doesn't have a fever, but he says it still hurts.  I went to pick him up.  He is able to watch tv and play the ipad.  He did mention on the way home that he is afraid it might be what Simon had.  I need to be sensitive that even though Simon's illness happened in March, it still is something that is on Garrison's mind.  The second call came fifteen minutes ago from Yingpu--Simon's teacher.  She informed me that "Simon is feeling uncomfortable and wants to talk to you."  What?!?  I'm feeling uncomfortable in many ways.  What is going on?  Simon gets on the phone and after many details that involve various kids, the playground and kicking--- it emerges that he swallowed a wood chip.  What do I do with that?  I laughed and told him that there were better things for him to eat.  I don't think he got it.  I made him stay at school.  There was only a half hour left in the day.  Crazysauce.

1:39

It is 1:39 a.m.

I'm sitting in the girls room while Penny tries to settle herself.  This in my opinion is the worst thing about using a pacifier--the stuffed up nose.  She is restless and can't settle down.  Fighting the cold is a pain for anyone, but when you are used to sucking while sleeping. . .

Being up in the night has given me time to pray.  I was reminded in Bible Study this morning to remember how far I have come,.  How many nights did I long for a family?  How many times did I give to God my hopes of ever being a mama?  10 years ago I couldn't have imagined my life today.  Instead of 100 students I now have 4.  I've never been so in love in my entire life.

So often we miss the Divine in our lives.  We keep on looking forward and miss those amazing big and quite little God Moments.  I am able to rock my little one to sleep.  I am able to pray for her.  I can pray for each member of my family, for my small group, for my Bible study ladies.  I have a sister that I adore.  God gave me a book this week through a friend.  Garrison was spared serious harm at school (as was the school) when he opened up a paper clip and tried to discover what happens when you put it into an outlet.  The Divine.  Right now a friend is in labor with her second child.  Her first son was welcomed into glory at 38 weeks along.  Tomorrow she will meet her second son after waiting and hoping and grieving for so long.  Divine.  Every day He offers blessings to me--even at 1:46 a.m.

Sleep will come again.  Right now I will whisper soft sweet words when my little stirs trying to find sleep.  Right now I will breath in and out and marvel at how amazing my Father is.  I will quiet my racing mind as it tries to put together a speech.  I've been asked to speak at a women's event and I couldn't be more excited about it.  I love public speaking and love that God has opened up this door for now.  The Holy Spirit will give me the speech.  Now is not the time to work.  Now is the time for thankfulness.  God is indeed divine.

He is so very good.  Look at what He has done thus far and there will be more blessings tomorrow! Every day.  Blessings every day.  Don't miss The Divine.

Spellcheck

I'm not much of a speller.  I'm very thankful for spellcheck and use it often.  The squiggly line underneath the word spellcheck is reminding me that I need to run the spellcheck.  I'm thinking it is not a word.
I've been known to change what I'm going to write in a handwritten note (which I love to do!) because I'm not sure of the spelling of a word.  I can tell you how to spell develop.  It doesn't have an "e" on the end of it.  I discovered this my senior year in high school when Mr. Mulder made me write it one hundred times.  I am aware now.  I also didn't know how to spell "who" in third grade.  Not one friend would tell me and I had to go and ask Mrs. Pothoven.  (Her name has a red squiggly line.)  Seriously--the English (or as Noel says Anglish) language has so many crazy ways to spell things.  "Who" begins with an "hhhh" sound.

Recently, I've developed (an "e" in this one!) another reason to dislike spelling.  My children.  I love my children, but the oldest are into spelling.  That isn't true.  They are into writing and can not spell!  I do not like "Mom, how do you spell Bryce?  Mom, how do you spell from?  Mom, how do you spell I hope you are having a good day today?"  Drives me crazy.  Plus, they don't want me to write it so they can copy it.  They want me to spell it letter by letter.  I know this is good.  I know I should be happy that they have an interest in letters and in sounding things out.  I also know that I don't like standing in the kitchen slowly saying letters, repeating them over and over, and messing it up because they didn't hear me or I didn't hear them.  Suddenly  "love" is spelled lovvve.  One of the many blessings of my children learning Mandarin in school is that they can't ask me how to write anything!  I haven't a clue and can announce that with a certain amount of pride.

Get out the vacuum

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The vacuum has been out for the past three days. . . and I am thrilled.  I know--shocking!  Here is the deal: I did a great mommy thing.  I don't think I'm an amazing mom.  I see what other amazing women do--many of them my friends.  I admire them.  They have great brains that think of cool activities for their kids to do.  They love (or pretend to love) to get on the floor with their kids and "play" things.  I don't like to play things. It seems strange since I can be a bit dramatic (ahem) myself.  I don't like to play doctor or kitchen.  I do have gifts in other areas.  I get excited about things.  I love to go out and find adventures with my kids.  I love to hike with them or play games.  Each mama has their gifts.  Celebrate your gifts!

So back to my great mommy thing.  Last week there was a "play and learn" time at a local educational center.  Our county hosts one every month in Zeeland.  I was kindly invited by a friend and Penny and I enjoy getting out, getting a free book, and playing at all sorts of different stations.  It is well run and a great way for the two of us to spend an hour together without my quick doing a load of laundry or unloading the dishwasher or grabbing a pop or checking my e-mail or blogging or snacking or or or.  She is the guide (that is what the leader tells us!) and it has been fun to be together.  So on Monday I noticed that Penny spent a lot of time at the field corn tub.  Hidden in the corn were little "treasures" (this time is was farm animal figures) and the kids could find them.  Penny didn't find them.  She instead took two measuring cups and poured the corn back and forth.  She also got irritated with kids who touched her measuring cups.  Because I was "present" with her (here is the great mommy thing!) I noticed this.  Of course, I promptly forgot it when she stepped in dog poop as we walked out to the car and then got it all over the van, her car seat, and her clothes.

Monday morning my house was sighing in relief as everyone left.  We had a great Thanksgiving, but boy did we need a little clean-up time.  I suddenly remembering the pouring thing and grabbed a few containers, a spoon and a half a bag of lentils.  Fifty cents.  Fifty cents worth of lentils has bought me over six hours now of fun!  Penny loves it.  She loves to touch and pour them.  I love that she is creating and occupied and I can work around her.  I love that Noel likes it too.  I don't like it when they fight over the lentils.  Who fights over lentils?!?  Penny is pouring right now.  I may have to take out the lentils every time I want to blog. . . or shower.

Most of them are gone now as they have been vacuumed up, but they are on my grocery list for this week.

Love these ladies!

Sassy Ladies!

One of my requests for my birthday was that I go out with my mama and my sisters.  I have one sister by birth and three by marriage.  (Gary's sister DiAnne lives in Washington--hard to meet up!)  This night out happened one week after I got home from Miami.  While I was in Miami I found these amazing earrings and bought a pair for each of these ladies.  Aren't they awesome!  :)  We laughed about our crazy large ear decorations and determined that they would only come out for special occasions.  I'm thankful for these women who are good sports about wearing crazy stuff.  I'm thankful for the godly women they are and how the encourage me to walk more closely with my Father.  I'm thankful that they make me laugh.  We share, cry, love, live, and grow together.  I wouldn't trade a one!

Changed expectations

We delivered our Thanksgiving basket today.

Gary and I have been thinking about Thanksgiving since the end of October.  We wanted to do something for the "poor and oppressed" in our community.  We tried to volunteer at the big Rescue Mission dinner. . . but our kids aren't old enough.  We really wanted to do something together as a family!  My sister mentioned that they had put together a box for a family during the Thanksgiving season and had delivered it--this seemed right up our alley.  We couldn't find an organization in Holland that was doing this.  Hmmm  what to do?  Should we just buy some goods and donate them?  Wonderful yes, but we wanted our kids to see a face--build a relationship (not really) of sorts.  Relationship probably isn't the right word--perhaps put a relationship together between the real poor and us.  I'll have to think about that one.

ANYWAY, on facebook a couple of weeks back a former student posted that the non-profit that she works for was needing families to partner with a needy family and deliver a Thanksgiving meal.  What?!?  Isn't this what we had been hoping for?  Sign up we did.

We received the confirmation e-mail and were told that we would receive our family in the next couple of days.  More than a couple of days went by and we hadn't heard.  I contacted the organization and they told me to call Shawn.  After several back-and-forth with Shawn, we had our family. . . well. . . we had a woman.  It wasn't exactly the "family" (5-6) I had signed up for, but Cinida was 78, spoke only Spanish, and needed a Thanksgiving meal.  We were in.  We discussed what we would bring. . . we looked at the suggestions. . . we called her friend Zida who would translate for her.  Yes, she would be home on Wednesday morning.

The ducks and I loaded up the box and then buckled up for our "long ride" to Grand Rapids.  The trip took us about 20 minutes. . .long compared to our usual trips.  :)  Now here is the thing.  This morning I was praying and I asked God to prepare us for this. . . to give us the right heart.  See. . . I wanted something out of this but I realized that it wasn't about me.  Why was I doing this?  Why do I donate stuff?  Why do I volunteer?  Often because it makes me feel good.  God didn't ask me to give a meal because it made me feel good.  Cinida needed a meal.  We were responding and I prayed for the right heart and for the right words for both her and for my ducks.  I wanted to see what God wanted us to see.

We drove up to her house, and as we tumbled out Garrison announced that she must be "really poor because look at these steps mom".  We quietly discussed about how we would talk about that in the car and talking about it loudly might make them feel bad.  Garrison knocked and smiled his big smile as the door was cautiously opened by a shirtless male.  Garrison tried to walk in.  "Wait Garrison.  Hi.  We are here to drop off a Thanksgiving meal for Cinida."  "Oh, yeah.  Thanks."  He took the box and closed the door.  Penny had just make it up the steps.  The three older ducks looked at me and Garrison began to cry.  I ushered them back into the van and we had a chat.  "We drove such a long way and now we have to drive a long way home again."  We continued to talk as the neighbor opened his door and watched us.

I'm thankful that God had prepared my heart.

What I wasn't prepared for is what happened 15 minutes later.  We drove into Grandville and my kids saw a bunch of garbage on a sidewalk.  It was filled with fast food stuff that had spilled out all over the place.  I'm confident someone had enjoyed their meal and then emptied their car as they traveled.  "Mom!  We need to stop.  Someone left trash in God's creation.  God wants us to take care of the world and we need to pick up that trash."

I tried to talk my way out of stopping and then realized that I needed to stop.  They needed to right a wrong and I needed to let them.  We stopped and picked up the trash while I reminded myself to have them wash their hands when we got home.  God does say to take care of the world and my little ducks had heard the call.  Noel has prayed every day that "all the orphans will soon have a mom and dad" since we had Orphan Sunday at church.  I have a heart for the orphan, and I have not prayed every day.

God taught them today through me.  God taught me today through them.  God taught all of us through a box with a ham, stuffing, applesauce, soup, jell-o, potatoes, corn, dessert, and rolls.  I think that makes Him happy.  Me too.

That sneaky envy!

So.. . ms. envy just snuck up on me again.  Yup.  I thought I had conquered her in one little area of my life.  BUT, that isn't the way that spiritual warfare works right?

There is a friend. . . well we used to be good friends but because of time and distance. . . we are just facebook friends now. . . I greet her with happiness when I see her. . . you get it right?  I'd call her a friend, but we are not in regular communication.

So I realized several months ago that I really was struggling in my relationship with her.  "What is this?"  I thought to myself.  "Why am I having yucky feelings about her?  She is a wonderful person.  She is a great Christian and role model in her parenting.  There aren't faults that I see in her.  What is up Shanda?!?"  Well, I finally figured it out that I was a bit envious of her.  Envious of some of the things she was doing in her life.  Envious of some of her gifts and abilities.  Once I identified it, I took care of it!  It felt so much better to follow along in her life free from this awful feeling and to see myself in a different light--with all kinds of gifts from the Father to use in His Kingdom.  I prayed that God would use my gifts when He sees fit to use them. . . that I would be content in whatever state I'm in. . .that I would trust Him and so enjoy all the blessing that He has given to me.

Then last week it struck again.  "Why does she get to go that?  I've always wanted to do that!  Boo!"  I found myself struggling once again.  Once again I have to beat envy over the head.  I've never thought of myself as an envious/jealous person, but obviously there is an issue here.

I'm thankful that I can see it and work to stop it.  I pray for eyes to see where God wants me to change.  Do you struggle in some surprising ways?

Delicious Supper

Hi friends!

I stumbled on a great supper last night and just felt like I should share.  It was Tasty.  Easy.  Filling. and Cheap.  That meets so many of my ideal supper qualifications.  Would you like to know?  Great!  Read on.

Pancakes.  I know, I know. . . you are very aware that pancakes can be a delicious supper.  But have you made them with Jiffy Corn Mix?  I see a couple of hands in the air.  Excellent.  I've made corn muffins from the easy-and-cheap-as-pie box, but I've never looked at the side of the box.  Corncakes.  The recipe is a bit different from the main one on the back of the box--so make sure you follow it.  There is melted butter!  I broke open two of those bad boys for our supper.  I must confess that I also made regular pancakes--sometime it is easier to try out a new recipe when there is a great stand-by sitting on the table.  So, back to corn cakes.  Mix them up and then add some cinnamon. (I used a shade less than a teaspoon for my double batch--I can't say for sure because I measured in my hand. Really cool cooks do that on t.v. ya know.)  Though I know there is sugar in the mix, I added just a tablespoon (again guessing) just because cinnamon and sugar are life partners.  Ooo--I might add honey next time.  Excellent!  Then I also added blueberries.  Seriously.  Syrup on top?  Nothing wrong with this supper here.

Round out the meal with bacon and oranges. . . winner winner pancake dinner.  Gary suggested putting cherry pie filling on the top to which I countered with baked apples.  We are excited at the possibilities.

It filled me up.  It filled the kids up.  It was fun to find something that we all liked(except Noel, but in a family of six we count five likes as being excellent. . . and she was being ornery so it doesn't count).  Have you made a new discovery lately?  We are having brisket tonight for the first time.  We'll see how that goes.

Miami in pictures

So the pictures are up and I've chosen some of my favorites to share with you.  

Those are some large orange earrings!

Sunset on Key Biscayne.  Miami in the background.  Lovely first night.

Yeah for celebrating 40!

The only place where I'll order a pina colada.  They are like nothing else I've ever had anywhere else.  mmmmm

Could this avocado be any bigger?

Watch out Karen!!!  The alligator is eyeing you!  Karen. . . . Karen!

Karen and I pose with Chris: the alligator wrestler.  His shirt read "In wrestling alligators there is no tap out."

We are ready for our airboat ride.  We were sitting in the "you will get wet" seat.  We didn't believe it would be so bad.

It was so bad.

Sundowners for supper in Key Large.  This has always been a favorite place for us.  How wonderful to eat on the ocean and watch the sunset.

We so enjoyed our visit to Westminster Christian School.  This is Chuck who was the head maintenance guy while we were there.  He took care of us in many ways and we were thrilled that he still works at WCS.

This was my old classroom in the Middle School.  The window is five times larger than it was while I was teaching.

"Miss B and Miss Koeman" 15 years later.

Our old apartment H-210

We had to visit the Farm Store--how often have I wished for this in West Michigan!  It is a drive-through grocery store which carries basics---like milk!!

We enjoyed an hour of exercise with our friends Kari and Jan.

We ordered a drink on South Beach (love hearing the ocean) and were completely surprised by the size!  Who needs a 39 oz. white russian?  "Not I" said Shanda.

Time to leave.  Hampton Inn room 519 treated us well.

Love the banyan trees!  They are so beautiful and unlike anything found in Michigan.

Good-bye dear friend!  Thankfully we were able to get a great deal on sunglasses in the airport.  I'll think of you every time I wear them.

This is how I've been

And so it is snowing.

The kids are in bed, but not sleeping yet.  It'll come.  Gary is off to his Bible Study.  I've had a cup of tea and am working hard to avoid the kitchen.  I've been convicted that I haven't been practicing self-control in the area of eating.  I've been convicted from God's Word and from my jeans.  So. . . the kitchen is closed.

Friends visited this week-end and we had a ball.  Chicago folks who come once or twice a year.  Saturday night we were chatting about how I felt now that I was 40.  I shared about how my life has changed so very much every decade of my life and I feel like my 40's aren't going to be full of change.  That feels strange to me.  Antoinne smiled and offered me this encouragement.  "You are simmering."  He knows.  He'll turn 50 next year.

I love my new word and have found myself really settling into it.  I'm going to simmer.  I'm going to "cook" my kids until they are ready to come out of our house.  10 years from now I'll have a 17, 16, 15 and 12 year old.  I'm praying I don't boil over.  :)  I plan to simmer in my relationship with God.  I'll grow richer as we spend more time together.  There will be new layers that can be added to other dishes.  I'm excited to see what He'll do.  Simmering means that I'm not all hot and bothered about so many things, but I won't get too cold. I won't stop caring.  How will I change my world?  What issues will be my passion?  Continued energy.  Simmering.  I like it and think I'll own it.  It might be really good to step away from the highs and lows and just do what I need to do---and do it well.  Simmering cooks food. . . gets it done. . . makes things delicious.  I'm going to try and make my life delicious.

I played a new version of hide-n-seek with Penny this afternoon.  While she counted I hid in the living room underneath a blanket.  I love to peek out so I can see her face when she finds me.  Her eyes and mouth get very wide and pure joy comes rushing out.  It puts pure joy on my face too and we laugh together.  This time however, she was plain giddy with my hiding place and rather than "mommy turn to count", she declared she would count again and I was to hide again in the same place.  We must have done this over 10 times.  She would begin to walk backward down the hallway while "covering" her eyes.  She was making sure I wouldn't leave.  As she reached 5ish, she would sit down at the end of the hallway and finish counting.  At her "ready", she would begin to sneak towards me and tap my knee when she found me.  I'd pull down the blanket and we'd laugh and laugh together and then repeat.  Joy.  Pure joy at finding your mama when you knew she was there all along.  I silently thanked God for both my daughter and for always hiding in the same place.  I can always find Him.  I know I get so excited when I get to see Him.  I'm sure he laughs with me.  It is a memory I'll treasure and I'll love to tell her how we used to play when she is older.

Hope that you can simmer this week.

Welcome Home!

I'm back.  I was actually back Tuesday night, but yesterday was not spent blogging.  It was spent smiling a lot at the great memories that I have.  It was spent smiling at my kids.  I gave lots of smiles to my sweet and handsome husband whose eyes make me swoon.

Let's talk about Gary.  I know. . . I should be talking about my awesome 40 vacation!  I will.  I need Gary to download the pictures so I can share in great detail.  :)  What I need to chat about now is Gary.

Gary.

He never once was snarky about my going away for four days.  He didn't complain about being a single daddy.  He didn't need instructions because he is an active part of the kids' lives.  I didn't stress at all when I was gone.  He even modified our mornings a bit which is very helpful!  You know how you do something the same all the time and then someone else comes in and can see something?  Gary did that!  I walked into the airport and saw my kids all holding signs and singing in Mandarin.  He made that happen.  I came into a kitchen with clean counters.  He did that.  Every child ate and slept and functioned while I was gone.  Every child loved being with their daddy.

So while I made lots of memories and had an amazing time. . . one which I will never ever forget. . . it couldn't have happened without my Gary.  Then rather than ask for a night off last night, he joined me at Grandma Koeman's side to say "see you next time in heaven".  I took the kids to church afterwards and then arrived home to find him sleeping.  He needed it.  :)  I'm so blessed.

Oh man!

The title of this post is meant to be read out loud.  Go ahead.  If you are familiar with Dora (a children's television show) then you can say it like Swiper does when he is thrawted from his swiping.

It is 3:18 a.m.  I'm leaving for the airport in one hour.  I'm beginning my four days away with my very best friend in Miami.  I'm very excited.  That is not the reason why I'm up early.  If you notice. . . I'm up too early.  My sweet daughter woke me up over an hour ago because her blanket fell off of her and she couldn't get it back on her bed.  And she missed me.  I put the blanket back on, gave another kiss and hug, and then tried to get back to sleep.  Since it takes me an hour or more to get back to sleep after being awakened. . . I decided to "misread" the clock.  After about a half and hour I thought I may as well get up and get going.  It wasn't until I was completely showered/dressed and getting my breakfast that I looked at the clock in the kitchen.  "Oh man!"  I could have fallen back to sleep and had another hour.

I'm not sure if three hours of sleep will be fabulous tonight when Karen and I are hitting the town to "par-tay".  :)

P.S. to the last post

If you haven't read the post after this, read it first.  :)

Applesauce

I made applesauce last week.  This isn't usually a big deal for me: I love to make a fresh batch of hot applesauce in the crockpot with cinnamon and marshmallows melted in at the end.  It is how my mom does it.  Last week however I did something differently.  We had purchased one bushel of apples (things here in Michigan weren't so hot for apples this year) and I wanted to make some applesauce just like I made as a little girl.  My parents would cook down the apples in the basement and then use this great gadget like a colander up on legs with a large cone shaped wooden dowel in the middle.  The hot cooked apples: skins, seeds and all would be placed in the cone and then we would spin the wooden dowel around and the applesauce would come through the holes with the skins and seeds left behind.  I loved helping my parents do that.  So I gave dad a call and asked him if I could borrow it.  "It" he replied belonged to my Grandma Koeman.  Grandma Koeman wasn't doing well.  She just had surgery on her back for a compressed vertebrae.  She lives with Aunt Nancy, so I contacted Aunt Nancy and sure enough, Shanda could borrow the applesauce maker.  Picking it up was wonderful because my girls and I were able to visit with Grandma for awhile.  She is in bed and almost blind.  She held each of our faces close and gazed at us.  We talked about applesauce.  It was good.  I made the applesauce that night and LOVED thinking about my young parents and my young grandparents working to make applesauce for their families.  Grandpa Koeman grew apples and Grandma spent many hours putting up apples in various forms.  Grandpa liked to have one apple pie a week in the winter, so Grandma made a froze over 30 pies every fall.  I loved imagining her as a young woman with flushed cheeks trying to put enough up sauce and pies for her eight children.  I even took pictures so that I could make a blog post about my Grandma and making applesauce.  The pictures are still on the camera.

Last night I got "the call".  We are all familiar with these phone calls.  My mom called to let me know that Grandma has been put on hospice.  It is only a matter of time before she joins Jesus and Grandpa in heaven. Though I'm happy for her in that regard, I'm not so excited about losing my last remaining grandparent.  I'm not excited that I may be in Miami and may miss the funeral.  Selfishly I'm asking God to keep Grandma alive until at least the week-end.  I know. . . selfish.  She is ready to go home.  Her applesauce maker is sitting in a bag in the garage with a thank-you note attached to it.  I'm not sure if I'll have the chance to deliver it to her or not.  She is the matriarch of a bunch that numbers over 100.   Though I don't know if I'll see her alive again on this side of heaven, I do know that one day we'll make applesauce together.

"Buzz!!! Try again"

Well, I played the mommy guessing game again and I lost. . . again.  The whole "do they need to go into the doctor or will a little rest and Tylenol take care of business" guessing game drives me batty!  I'm good with the extremes: pink eye is identifiable to me.  Fever for four days straight--once again I can make the call.  Distended belly and continual pain. . . well I missed that one and went in a little late.  (See posts in march for our hospital experience.)

Penny was up screaming many times last night.  Gary (bless him!) took most of the shifts.  She was so upset and irrational.  She complained about her ear hurting and had a very low fever--taken after she was given Tylenol--with a running nose and dark watery eyes.  Gary and I debated and decided to go in today rather than chance things at urgent care tonight.  We waited for over an hour and a half and learned that Penny is indeed sick: she has a cold.  Sweet!  I feel like such a tool when I go in for those visits.  Just three weeks ago we were there with Penny when I thought she had a urinary tract infection.  Nope, she spent too much time in the tub and was irritated.  They did offer me some special cream though.  Argh!

I kept apologizing to nurse practitioner Amy today.  (What do I call her in front of my kids?  She isn't nurse Amy nor is she Doctor Amy or Doctor Robins.  More confusion!)  I wish I had one of those ear looky things and knew what to look for so that I could know when to go in or not.  Can I get an Amen?!?

30

Happy Saturday night to you!  The kids are down.  Penny has crawled out once and I anticipate that I'll interact with her several more times tonight.  Garrison can't sleep because he has images from Star Wars going through his head.  Noel is out cold.  Noel needed to sleep since 2:00 this afternoon.  It took her less than 3 minutes to fall asleep.  Simon keeps peeking over the edge of the top bunk trying to tell Garrison good things about Star Wars.  I just want them to be done.  Sleeping.  It will happen--it is one of my favorite times of night.  Gary and I wrap up our work and then spend time together.  Cuddling on the couch is on the agenda for tonight.  We will also do some praying and talking together about some decisions we need to make.  I'm looking forward to it.

Permit me to walk down memory lane one more time.  If you don't want to hear about my birthday again, then good-night!  Thanks for stopping by.

Ten years ago this week I celebrated my 30th birthday.  I know--shocker.  :)  I celebrated it in a very unique way though.  See. . . while in my 20's I made some marvelous life long friends at Camp Roger.  The place changed my life and I consider it one of my homes.  Many of the counselors were in their mid-20's and single--at bit of a shocker at the time in West Michigan.  We formed a singles pool and had "pool rules".  We each chipped in twenty bucks and the last one to get married would get all of the money.  There were over 20 of us. . . so big bucks!  One rule was that if you married someone within the poo,l and you hadn't been dating when you entered, then you earned a bonus of $50.00 for knocking out two people.  That happened once.  When you got married (and we have all married since), you were given a gravy boat as a gift from the members of the pool.  Another rule was that if you turned 30 and weren't married, then the folks in the pool would throw you a shower.  I received a shower.

I can't tell you how much fun that shower was.  Here I was a Christian school teacher living by myself.  I still had college debt.  I was using pots/pans that I had gleaned over the years.  Many folks in Miami had donated apartment wares to my friend Karen and I when we were in Miami, and I was still using them.  I was fine.  I loved my job.  I loved working with high school kids during the year and being at Camp Roger during the summer.  I also loved walking through Bed Bath and Beyond with a gun and shooting things that I was interested in.  It wan'ts about the stuff, it was about being treasured.  I was loved on by my friends.  They went out to a store and purchased a present for me to tell me that they loved me and I was worth nice plates.  Candles, silverware, towels, sheets, dishes. . . I was given them all.  Mostly I was given a huge group hug from some of the most important people in my life.

It was one year later that I began dating Gary.  My how my life has changed!  As I think back to my last significant birthday, I'm so grateful.  Sure I love my life now and am in love with my guy.  I can't believe that God chose him for me.  I still have wonderful friends from Camp Roger who are an active part of my life.  We are friends for life.  30 year old Shanda was hurting though and needed that shower.  She needed to feel value as a single person when the world often told her otherwise.

Because I was single much longer than "the average female", I did struggle.  There were times I would cry out to God to give me a man who would love me back.  I" fell-in-like" with many of my wonderful guy friends, and they never returned my affection.  I would give it to God and feel peace, and then my heart would turn all over again.  I had come to a point where I thought I would never get married and have children, or I would be a grandmother without ever having been a mother.  Surely there would be a widower who would marry me when we were in out 70's?!?  I did also enjoyed many of my single times and would cringe would folks would ask "When are you going to get married?"  I enjoyed two Biblical tours and was able to live in Jerusalem for a month while studying.  I lived in both Miami and Chicago.  I could go on spontaneous outings because I was only accountable to God--World Series games, a week-end trip to New York City, thanks for your condo in the Keys, assisting at so many after school activities!   God always has surprises for those who adore Him, though they may not always be our choosing at the moment.

As a single adult I loved it when I was invited to be a part of groups where married people were gathering.  I didn't cease to exist because I was single.  I loved it when the evening didn't revolve around one's children.  I loved being asked to dinner. . . and not being asked to babysit.  I didn't like it when it was assumed that I was gay.  I didn't like it when conversations about sex ceased because I had arrived.  (I taught sex ed.  I was aware of some of the issues.)  This may be a surprise to some of you: every single person is different.  Some want to be set up.  Others don't want you to mention it.  Some want to come to your house for dinner and eat with your family, for others this is the last thing they want to do.

What is the point of all of this?  Well. . . love the single people around you.  It can be challenging to find a church where you are enveloped.  Some vacillate between emotions of "I'm loving this/I'm hating this" all the time.  Married folks can feel the same way.  Please just don't forget them.  Find time to be with them.  Don't just connect with them when you want something.  I wasn't forgotten by my friend,s and I still have some wonderful gifts as a reminder to me--including a table that was mosaiced (a noun I made into a verb) for me.  A group of six girls got together and made it for me.  One of kind--special.  It will not leave my house.  It is a constant reminder to me of how God used my friends to love me.

May God use me and you to bless the single people in our lives.

I'm 40!

So it's been awhile since I've blogged.  I've been busy with stuff. . . you know. . . stuff.  Stuff like kids at home.  Stuff like being tired and taking a nap.  Stuff like camping in the rain and 40 degree nights.  Stuff like turning 40.  Stuff like your husband working 130 hours in two weeks.  Stuff like book club and Bible Study. Stuff.  Let me write about one piece of stuff.

Happy Birthday to me.

     I turned 40 yesterday.  Birthdays aren't a big deal for me unless they are big birthdays.  I can't tell you what I did for my 25th, 33rd, or 39th birthday.  I can tell you what I did for 16, 21, 30 and 40.  I've shared before about how I really enjoy celebrating the beginnings and ends of events/milestones.  I remember, pause, and reflect.  I've been doing that for the past couple of weeks.  I'm not sad about leaving my 30's, although I loved them.  My life changed so dramatically!  It was the year I turned 30 that I decided to change my life.  I did and met Gary, got married, moved, had four pregnancies, adopted one child, changed jobs, learned about addiction, found a new church home, lost a father-in-law as well as two grandpas and grandmas. . .lots of wonderful and contemplative things.  Lots.  My life is so different than it was 10 years ago.  My life was dramatically different between 20 and 30 as well.  I'm struggling a little because as I look at it, I don't see my life being so very different between 40 and 50.  I've discovered that I kind of like those big changes.  Sure I'll have some teens in my house which will be different than 7, 6, 5 and 2.  I will probably have a paying job.
     I don't see moving anywhere different.  I don't see changing churches.  I don't see adding four more children.  I have discovered a new passion for my Bible Study though.  I'm curious what God is going to do with that.  I've always been passionate about middle school and high school kids and now I find myself loving on the 70 women who meet on Tuesday mornings.  I'm still in love with Gary and find myself enjoying my children more and more.  I still have that pesky weight to lose and am discovering that it isn't coming off like it did 10 years ago when I lost 88 pounds.  I'd be really excited about 20.
I'm trying to be content with the season that I'm in.  Although I long for the day when Gary and I can go out for a night without getting a babysitter, I do sit back and celebrate that my kids still give me hugs and kisses.  They want to sit on my lap and are so cute.  I tuck them in every night and know exactly where they are all night long.  Perhaps that comes with maturity--I'd love to live in 20 year old Shanda's shoes and see if she really realized how fun and quick college would fly by.  Did she enjoy the moment or was she always looking ahead to the next thing?
     I feel like my face has aged a lot in the past few months.  Perhaps I've been looking for it?  Gary still thinks I'm beautiful.  I hope he always does.  I find myself asking friends in my age bracket (How did I end up with so many friends who are younger than me?  I have two close friends who just turned 30!) about creams that might help with some wrinkles and spots.  Spots!  I have spots on my face!!  What is up with that?
     What is up with that is that I'm 40 and I lived in Miami for 4 years and can't remember putting sunscreen on my face.  When I was a teen I would try to burn my face so that it would turn to tan.  Oh how I would love to talk with that young girl.  I do have some advice for her---one of which is put on a hat!  Of course if 16 year old Shanda would have put on a hat, then the sun could not have reached her hair which she had put lemon juice on in an effort to get blonder.
     Speaking of Miami (which is when I began to dye my hair blond for reals--no lemon juice involved!) I'm going there in two weeks.  About a year ago my best friend Karen and I began to dream together about a vacation with just the two of us.  She turns 40 next month and we threw out the possibility of traveling together back to Miami to celebrate our days of living and teaching there.  Little did I hope that we would actually do it.  Gary is super supportive and is taking vacation days to be a stay-at-home papa.  I'm excited to enjoy my friendship, celebrate where God has taken both Karen and I, and just relax at my former home.  I love walking down memory lane and I'm going to spend four days doing just that!
     As I approached my birthday Gary asked me the same question that I had asked him before his 40th.  Let's take a moment to remember that he is much older than me.  :)  "What do you want for your 40th?"  His answer: a super big sweet party.  He got it.  My answer?  "Miami with Karen, out for martini's with my sisters and mama, and one great night out with you."  I'm going to get all three.  The best part is that none of them have happened yet--oh there are three great things that are going to happen not that I'm 40.  I'm excited to see what else God is going to do in the next decade.  I'll let you know what I thought in 2022--when I turn 50.

A little high on. . .

So, I am someone that when I get an idea in my head. . . I just want to do it!  I've learned to curtail that to some extent and having a husband certainly helps.  Sometimes these things can be good--and other times not so successful.

So an idea has been brewing in my head and today I pulled the trigger. . . literally!  I'm having a hard time typing because my trigger finger is all jiggly.  Six years ago, my folks took Garrison overnight and Gary and I did some home improvement projects.  One of these projects included painting our while stools--orange!  Of course they are orange.  I love love love orange.  Love it.  The chairs were fine, but lately I'm seeing the uglier side--I don't think I chose the right kind of paint for this project.  They don't ever look clean and I've been falling in love with gray.  So Penny and I went off to Menards to find some gray paint.  Penny was amazed at the Christmas decorations.  I was surprised that there are seven baby Jesus' for sale and they are only $18.99.  There seems to be something wrong with that.  I digress.

I have no idea how to paint chairs--as evidenced by my orange chairs.  I tried to do some research this morning and grew tired of it.  Everything seemed too hard!  So I just found a can of gray spray paint, sanded things down a bit, and went to town!  According to the back of the can, I'm supposed to spray with the temperature above 50.  We are a little under. . . but I'm sure it will be fine.

I did discover some tape on the chair as I painted. . . along with some random bits on the seat.  Playdough perhaps?

So, I just did it.  Testify Gary and Mom!  :)  I'll let you know how it turns out.  I'm supposed to do a second coat in an hour, although I'm almost out of paint.  No matter, I'll just repaint the important parts.  Now if I could only get rid of my "paint fumes headache".

Thief

I've found myself sitting in doctor's waiting areas a few times in the past two weeks.  I really don't mind it. . . truth be told I kinda like it.  I don't like the reasons why we have to go to the doctor (possible u.t.i. for Penny, a crown for my oldest, and issues with my big toenail--I know--what is up with that?!?) nor do I like dealing with babysitters.  BUT, when I get there I like sitting and reading magazines.  I love reading magazines, but have not been subscribing in an effort to save pennies.  When I get to go grocery shopping alone, I find a longer line to wait in so that I can read the magazines.  Love.

So I'm sitting at the foot doctor--all by myself I might add!--and really enjoying this magazine.  I see a recipe that I want to make and with little thought, I'm tearing it out while watching the secretary hoping she doesn't hear the page ripping.  I put it in my purse and read on.  I found so many things that were intriguing to me that. . . I shoved the whole thing in my purse!  Yesterday while Garrison was getting his crown (again, he is seven!) Noel and I were chillin'; she on the ipad and me reading magazines.  I repeated my tearing out performance.  Yes.  I'm confessing.

This morning as I emptied my purse I felt a twinge of remorse.  Then I found myself rationalizing.  I went back and forth.  "Shanda, you'd never allow your children to take something like that.  But there were so many magazines!  It really is stealing--seriously it is stealing.  Will anyone really notice that something is missing from the page?  Plus, there were over 20 copies of Cooking Light.  Eventually these will get recycled anyway right?  You are a thief!  Would Jesus tear our a recipe?  There isn't a sign saying "please tear out what you can use."

So, I'm blogging about it.  I'm confessing.  I'm wondering what to do the next time I find a recipe.  Is it o.k. to go up to the front and ask to make a copy?  I think that is a bit embarrassing.  I will not begin carrying recipe cards in my purse.  Do I return the magazine to the foot doctor?   Hopefully the recipes will turn out great, then again perhaps my punishment should be that they are terrible.  :)  The worst part is that I just did it knowing that it was wrong--I kept watching the receptionist because I didn't want to get caught.  What am I--4?  The point is--I won't do it again.

Pushed and done

I joined the book club at our church.  I know--different for me.  I used to love reading books.  Every Sunday I'd grab a book and spend the rest of the day enthralled.  I'd often stay up very late just to finish.  I haven't read much since I became a mom.  There are many reasons for this, but the whole "finish it" thing is a huge part.  I know I'd be a bad mom and wife if I picked up a great book.  My friend Betsy though was interested, so I said "hey, I'll join you."

So on Wednesday nights I meet with a group from church.  We are reading Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne.  Perhaps that means something to you: it didn't to me.  I don't know authors (Laura Ingalls and Janette Oake I know!) very well.  Our church is reaching out this fall to help the poor/oppressed/destitute/etc. through a campaign called Jubilee.  It is very exciting!  Ask me if you'd like to know more.  The church leadership encouraged the reading of this book.

So, I like the book.  I like it.  I'm thinking about it.  I like carving time out of my Wednesday afternoons to sit and read.  I like sitting in a group and talking about what we think.  It has been good for me.

This past week Shane challenged us to be a Christ follower. . . to see where there is a need. . .to go and see Christ living in someone else.  He wanted so much to see Christ in others that he traveled to Calcutta and worked with Mother Teresa.  He helped people to die and saw Christ in them.

I wanted to do that.  I don't want to help people die, but I felt convicted that I needed to do something.  DO SOMETHING SHANDA!  Do something.  So as I read chapter 3 and listened to the group, I began to think about nursing homes.  When I was little, I would go with my friend Kerri and we would sing at a nursing home by our house.  I have no idea why we did this: if our moms thought of it or if our church had volunteered time. . .I just know we'd practice in Kerri's basement and then we'd go and sing a couple of hymns.  I had gone before; I could go again.  I was going to do i,t and I wasn't going to let doubt or distractions stand in my way.

On the way home from school at noon I discussed the plan with Noel.  " Did you know that there are older people who live a home all together?  I think that some of them may be lonely.  Don't you think that we could do something for them?  Maybe you could draw some pictures for them.  Perhaps we could pick some of our flowers and bring them too.  We could show them the love of God."  She was excited.  Penny was excited--she usually is as long as she can pick out her shoes.  So while Penny napped, Noel drew her pictures.  I worked on supper and prayed.  I was nervous.  I wasn't sure where to go.  I decided to go to a place in Zeeland where I've never been: Providence.  That felt good to me--- perhaps God was giving me a little nudge.  Noel drew four pictures and picked five flowers.  Penny was awake and we were off.

As we walked in Noel's enthusiasm waned.  I think mine did too although I didn't let it show.  Where was I going to go?  How would I know which people to visit?  I probably spoke with a little too much excitement to cover up my nervousness.  I know I held back tears as I entered.

There was a large group listening to music and playing games (?) as we entered.  I didn't feel like that was the way.  We looked at the birds to calm our nerves a little bit.  I steered the girls toward a desk in hopes that I'd find some direction.  I did.  Her name was Dana.  (Thanks so much God!)  I explained why we were there and asked if there was anyone in particular that she thought might appreciate some flowers.  She led us to a hall and we entered into the first room.  Irene would love a visitor she announced and then told us to just continue on and visit anyone who was awake and in a chair.  I breathed a prayer of thanks for this piece of advice.  Irene loved the flower and even had an empty vase in her room.  Penny had given her the flower and Noel had offered her picture.  We stayed maybe three minutes and then moved on.  Whew!  That felt good.  With one under our belt our confidence grew.  Noel and I had a little processing session in the hallway.  Then. . . oh then we met Alina (?).

She was a few doors down from Irene.  Penny saw her and ran into her room and straight into her arms for a huge hug.  Alina was surprised.  I was too.  The smile I saw on both of their faces was straight from our Father.  It was the only time Penny did it on our visit.  I decided that there must be something special about Alina.  I really believe that kids can often sense things that we adults can't.  Alina was so wonderful and kind.  She loved her flower (Penny tried to give them all to her).  It was hard to understand her because most of her teeth were gone, but we didn't need to chat much.  Smiles communicate tons and tons!

We were on a roll now.  We visited very quickly with three other women, one of whom had just gotten out of therapy and was very proud of how she had done.  I fell in love with her and promisedmyself that I'd be back to visit with her.  Penny tried to take Gladys' banana.  Gladys was not going to give it up.  In the end the girls were leading the way and Noel was looking into the rooms for folks who were awake and sitting up.  We said good-bye to the birds and left.

Then I cried.  I cried and cried.  I cried in gladness to God for blessing me in this way.  I cried because I felt I had done something with my girls that had Kingdom work written all over it.  I cried because I realized how nervous I had been and now it was over.  I cried with joy.  We clapped for God when we were in the van and about to leave.

I wish I could have sat with some of these women and listened to them.  It just isn't possible when there is a Penny in the room.  :)  BUT for now, we will try and listen to the nudge of the Holy Spirit again.  I plan to go back.  I also know that God may ask me to do something else that might make me nervous.  I hope I'm quick to listen.  I saw Christ today.

Critique Expectations

So here is the deal.  Garrison has eight cavities.  Yes, I did type that correctly.  Eight.  He'll get two crowns and might even need a root canal: he is seven.  No we do not let him drink pop.  No I do not feed him sugar by the tablespoon.  Yes he does brush his teeth twice a day and either Gary or I follow-up with brushing at night.  It is.

Our dentist wouldn't take on such a task and referred us to a pediatric dentist.

Here is the deal.  I'm a big fan of customer service.  I'm a big fan of being greeted with a smile.  I'm a big fan of employees being polite to me.  I don't know. . . it is just what I like.  I'll stop going to a business if I'm treated poorly.

Well, it was very difficult to get in to see this dentist.  This is frustrating, but I get it.  It may say bunches about their practice.  I'll wait and tell my boys (Simon has five!) as they complain about their tooth pain that soon we'll go to the dentist.

BUT--here is the situation.  I went yesterday with Garrison and as we were seated at the check-out---Ms. Thing didn't smile.  Not once.  I tried to smile at her. . . to make conversation with her.  She didn't offer much eye contact and "did her business".  Listen lady--I'm sorry too that I need to make four appointments to take care of Garrison's teeth.  I'm not excited about it or the bill.  Still--SMILE AT ME.  This morning I received a survey and though I was happy with my other experiences, I did say what had happened to me at check-out.  About an hour later I received a phone call FROM THE LADY!

Doesn't that seem a bit awkward?  Don'tcha think that a manager should call if they are going to call?  "Hello, this is Amy and I'd like to talk to you about your experience yesterday.  What is it that I did that made you upset?"  I wasn't prepared for this.  If I had wanted to talk with her about it, I would have talked with her about it at the office.  I'm not thinking it is my job to critique her work to her.  Am I wrong on this one?  It was strange and awkward, so I told her to smile.  She may not like her job or she may not be feeling well or she may have just had a bad experience with a client, but I deserve a smile.

I called my dentist office today and asked if they recommend any other office.  They haven't called me back. Here we go again.  :)