For an Audience of One

I love going to a venue that ended up smaller than expected. Where there are no assigned seats, making it easy to pick one a little more towards the front--you feel as though you are closer to that person on stage who is speaking, or singing. Maybe the attendance was disappointing, but every one who was supposed to be there, came. And it was great. Especially afterwards, when the lines to meet that famous person were so much shorter!

I wonder if this ever happened while Jesus had his traveling ministry. I wonder if people fought their way through the crowds, trying to get as close to him as possible. The woman who had an issue of blood, for 12 years, comes to mind. She knew there was no way for her to get close to Jesus, in plain sight--for she was considered 'unclean'. Yet, just touching the hem of his garment caused power to go out from his presence, healing her instantly. In reality, it was her faith that made her whole. Her belief, confidence, and perseverance that she could have what Jesus talked about. That is was for her, not just every body else.

I try to imagine how it would feel to be famous. People lining up, waiting for autographs, sideways hugs and pictures. Kind of like finding a multitude of friends that you never met. Being told that your latest book or hit song was life changing. I recently met several great musicians and writers. I remember that before we lined up to meet Christy Nockels, my friend next to me remarked at how she felt closer to God, just by watching Christy lead worship. I couldn't agree more. Christy has this presence about her when she is singing. Her eyes closed, head lifted up, sandals off her feet, totally wrapped up in what God is doing, through her. Wow...hearing and seeing that made a huge shift for me on how to view worship. For years, I often felt like I didn't know what to say when people would come up to me, after church, and tell me 'nice job singing' or 'great worship today'. On the inside, I would wonder if it was the christian thing to do to say 'thank you' or should I come up with some kind of reply about how 'it's not about me', blah, blah, blah.

Now I understand that none of the above is necessary. If I am truly focused on God while leading worship, I know that it will not be about me. Just getting lost in the presence of it all, not caring how you appear. That is the moment when you no longer wonder if people are staring at you or if things went well, musically. Sometimes, after what seemed like a difficult run as a music team, people will still comment that they worshiped God and how awesome it was. Just another confirmation that it isn't about any of us, except that we are willing to surrender our talents and abilities to bring people closer to God. And when a person does come up later, with kind words, we know that we succeeded in ushering them in to an encounter with God. Those affirmations are so sweet...and good to hear, from time to time. It's how we build each other up.

I find so much freedom in just living life. Not realizing that you are bringing people around you, closer to Jesus, no matter what they think about him or where they may be at, spiritually. The pure love of God, flowing through you and me will be what moves and shakes the world around us. I'm starting to get excited about meeting people groups that I don't normally interact with. I told Troy that I should go downtown to a certain coffee shop, frequented by more 'free thinking' college students...and see what happens. He looked at me with half a smile and said, 'ok?'. Just think of the stories you might come across, sitting at a retro table with coffee in hand and your heart, open to those around you. Coffee, European style!

I know that I would be changed by that experience. I would be challenged in my beliefs. I probably wouldn't know the answer to most of the why questions about God, but that's ok. I would encounter conflict at a level I have never known before. I can't explain why I would want to do this, but I guess it's in my heart, somewhere. Kind of intimidating, right? But when we play for an audience of One, it doesn't much matter the number of people who are there. All who were meant to be there, came. And it is always awesome that way.

A Script for the Day

It was a typical Tuesday morning, trying to get the kitchen cleaned up before heading off to our weekly park date. As I was scrubbing pots and pans, a certain friend was brought to my mind. I wondered how she was doing this week. I should call her...hmmm, maybe later would be better. I was curious how her weekend went, if she was feeling more peace over her difficult situation. And then the phone rang: guess who, right? I invited her to join us at the park, since she was looking for some action for the day.

Nothing close to epic, but that scenario reminded me of how God orchestrates every single detail of our lives. He knows who needs to talk to whom, and how to hook them up for some time together. I've been thinking a lot, lately, about my relationships. Some that are good and growing, some that have waxed a bit distant. I'm realizing that it takes time to develop a good friendship. It takes having no agenda, other than to be a friend. It takes trust and some risk...but it's worth all of those elements for the stories that come into a person's life. Even when conflicts arise, its still worth it for what is gained beyond the initial tension.

It's even worth it for the role you might play in another person's story: maybe your the friend that opened the door for someone to meeting more new people...and you never become much more than that, but your character was vital to their success today. I don't believe there is ever someone that you are not supposed to meet. You may not like them much. Maybe they raise the hair on the back of you neck, beckoning every competitive bone in your body to put up a fight. But there is a purpose for the interaction...you just might not see it, yet.

Having been one of those needy people for awhile, it's finally come to my attention that a person cannot give much back until they've had much poured into their life. Sometimes it takes years, even decades, for recovery to happen. What is exciting is when you see a change. That person starts to look for ways to get involved, to give back to the community or their church. They become transformed from within. They are starting a new chapter in their life and moving forward, beyond whatever it was that was holding them back for so long. Now I understand why it is more blessed to give than it is to receive. Sounds kind of cliche, but it's true.

Awhile back, I wrote about how boring life had started to become for me. Not in busyness, but that it seemed to lack adventure and discovery. I recently went through a three month layer of grief over my mom's death--she died 2 years ago. It is easy to become despondent and negative over every aspect of life when you are in the thick of grieving. Apparently, this may be an annual thing for me. Spring is not a good time to be thinking of my mom, but it is the time of the year because of my kids' birthdays, back to back, then Mother's Day(crummy, again), and then June rolls around marking the anniversary of the end of her life, on earth. So many markers at once, so many missed events that she will never experience with us.

But now that I've come out of that, I can see that the conflict of my mom's passing was what has propelled me into writing...again. Every time I write, it is birthed out of some tragedy. It doesn't mean that I will always write about that specific event, but the event itself has a way of creating many thoughts and reflections. You become thrown into something that you didn't ask for and somehow you have to find a way to process through it.

The first time I knew I could write was when I was 13 years old. We flew out to Oregon to visit my aunt for a week. No one had a clue of the losses I was internalizing at the time. I had much time to be alone because my mom was spending time with her sister; and my brother was playing with our cousins who were at least 5 years younger than me. There wasn't anyone that I could really talk to or hang out with. We had some fun activities line up where every one was together...but when you're sad, you often don't remember the good times.

So there I was, with a pad of paper and a flood of emotions. They spilled out onto the pages like water going across the counter top--and then along came the 'Brawny man' with his "quilted, quicker-picker-upper"--and absorbed the mess before it hit the floor! Wow--commercials really do sink in, don't they? I still have those old poems today. I don't remember letting too many people read them, but somehow my aunt figured out what I was doing when I kept on asking for more paper. It was brown penmanship paper, with the 2 inch blocks and dashes in between. Must've been for the boys to practice on or something. She didn't roll her eyes at me or shrug her shoulders. No, she recognized what I was only beginning to understand at the time.

She told me I should save every thing I wrote because, one day, it would help me become a good writer. I believed her, even though I didn't believe in myself at the time or could imagine that anything I could write would matter to someone else. But here we are today. Things are different and much has changed, 20 years later. I feel that story has come around full circle and has helped create whatever chapter is unfolding, right now. The idea of story, characters, and creating new memories are things I've learned in a book I just finished. I've already mentioned 'Million Miles', by Don Miller. It probably won't be the last time, either. Such a great book!

Every day is a new day. It is a gift. How will the world change, today? What impact will you choose to make in another person's life? How might someone else bless you, in return? Allow it to happen. Find ways to make make memories that are fun and off the wall. I'm already thinking up random stuff that I can work in to a busy day with a toddler and preschooler. But those are the kind of things I want them to remember! It's food for their dreams that we have yet to discover. And it is food for my soul, as well.

A Letter from the Editor

Lately, I've been reading 'A Million Miles in a Thousand Years', by Don Miller. A great read, so far. He also wrote 'Blue Like Jazz'--a book that I picked up in study group a few years back. I really enjoy this author's perspective on God. He is an out-of-the-box thinker. I like those kind of people. Probably because they resonate in me a distaste for sameness and lack of creativity. We are not all the same. There is not one right way to do anything, except keep the Commandments and love God and others. Beyond that, there are many grey skies above us that sometimes cloud our vision.

Since I've taken up writing again, the idea of God writing the story of our lives, has been repeatedly coming back to me. I don't think it's a coincidence that I heard Don speak about 'story', a few weeks back. He has offered me another way to look at life. Did you ever think that maybe you could edit your life? Sounds crazy, right? Yeah sure, I'd love to edit out some of the mistakes I've made, words I've spoken, colorful places I've found myself in! Only God can do that. He tells us that our sins are as far as the east is from the west. But that's not what I'm referring to, here.

This editing thing...hmmmm...I think what it means(so far)is that we choose how we want to live our lives. Every one loves a good story. Some of us might feel that our lives are rather boring and ordinary. That maybe there isn't much to report. I love this quote from Don Miller: The essence of story is this--"A character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it." So there has to be conflict in order to have a great story. There has to be ups and downs, the reds and the blues, to make it colorful. As I was listening to Don speak about all of this, it was like I had an 'a-ha' moment. Here is me, the person who hates conflict, always trying to avoid it, taking this all in.

I love my life, for the most part. I have so much to be thankful for. Yes, I've had my share of troubles--who has not? But the one thing I keep hearing from God is the word 'conflict.' I'm still trying to learn how to deal with it. You know what? I think I finally realize that I have to face it head on and not look back. Instead of letting the fear of it hold me back, I need to embrace it as a part of life...as a part of my story. Those dreams that I have that are on hold. Those ideas or 'what-ifs' that turn around in my mind when I'm cleaning the house(who says sweeping isn't productive?); maybe its time to live it out.

Or, when I catch myself coveting another person's success, I can turn around and smile at my own, knowing that today is a gift. I can look at my children and try hard not to blink because someday they'll be twice as tall...and maybe then they won't want 'to hold me', as my daughter often asks. I definitely will buy that used treadmill and walk for miles, as though I were going somewhere...well, trying to 'go away' from 10 extra pounds is a place that I would like to be! My dreams are seeds, planted in my heart from before I ever was. They could small ones or big ones, but every good one come from God. He knows me inside and out. Every life counts. Every life matters and has a role to play.

What I do today does matter, for earth and for eternity. I want to live out a great story--the one that God has already ordained. Its all the in between stuff that makes it hard to wrap your head around this concept. There is no remote in hand or fast-forward button. There is no movie screen but there is a mirror. There is a Book and there is the 'whispering, within'. And there are the choices. Tough ones, easy ones, good ones, bad ones. We need them all as chapters in our story. One that may inspire others to look upward and marvel at the Editor in Chief...and He gets all the credit.

A Princess Story

I had the privilege of spending last weekend in sunny Orlando, Florida with some of the best company from miles around. Getting somewhere good takes planning, a little stress, and a lot of effort. But once you're on that jet, a sigh of relief exhales as you look forward to the destination. That describes how I found myself at the Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) Convention, 2010.

Last year, when I first attended this event, I found myself crying like a baby as we drove to the airport. It was hard to leave my kids for 5 days--had never done that before. I felt broken and numb, as the reminders of 'mothering' were everywhere--all too soon for me in losing my own mom. But, God was doing some healing in me while I was away. I traveled with 2 friends who were solid as a rock and kept me going through the weekend. We had tons of fun and came back with our suitcases bulging and our hearts overflowing. We shopped 'til we dropped and soaked up all the music and training that we could while were in hospitable Nashville, TN.

It was necessary for me to experience my first Convention in that way. I had gained a bigger perspective of what we do, as a MOPS group, and how important mothering is in making this world a better place. This time around, I went with 2 friends who were the 'newbies of the group'. It was fun to see their reaction to everything taking place. We had so much fun together--I have to say that nothing is better than being poolside with friends who are like-minded--who love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength and have a passion for reaching out. It was refreshing to invest in each other with no distractions--no kids, no schedules, no demands of home life. I really didn't want to leave!

I felt like I was in Heaven, for real. The Gaylord Palms is one of the finest hotels in the country. The whole place is beautiful, with its conservatory environment: plants, waterfalls, rock formations and wandering paths, ever where...excellent restaurants, entertainment and fabulous pools! You feel like a Princess from the moment you walk in. There was a well-dressed man, passing by the line of women, waiting to get their room keys. He had a silver platter with individually-wrapped chocolates and candies for all the moms, as well as sweet compliments on how we have the hardest job in the world--so true. There were the fanciest lemonade stands I ever saw: glass and brass containers with golden spickets--how cool is that. Complimentary refreshments that spoke volumes to each of us, on our true worth.

What would be my favorite part of the event? It's too hard to pick just one thing. Since we had a smaller attendance this year, it made it easier to get through the lines and meet the speakers and musical artists that were there. We met our favorite local band, 'Go Fish', worship leader Christy Nockels, and saw Ritchie McDonald(former lead singer of Lone Star) as well as many authors and speakers. The worship time was incredible. I only wish every Sunday morning, back home, had as much volume as we experienced each day, there. Wow.

I was surprised to see Don Miller--author of a favorite book('Blue Like Jazz') be one of the speakers. What a neat guy he is. I love his perspective on God--definitely an 'out of the box' thinker. I love hanging out with people like that. Margaret Feinberg, another excellent writer and speaker, inspired me with her correlations between scripture and nature. She has taken the time to get to know people who take care of sheep, keep bees, and tend vineyards--and how God has used those analogies to give meaning to our every day lives. I just had to show her pics and video of my butterfly who could not fly. I knew there was a reason why I brought that footage along with me. Isn't it awesome the way we are prompted and directed?

The Resource Fair has continued to be a blessing in my life. Last year, I was given a small pendant that had the number 23 engraved on it--as in Psalm 23. The vendor noticed the necklace I often wear that belonged to my mom. She wanted me to have something like it, from their company. I was touched and lifted up by that small gesture. This year, I came back to Union 28, a company that makes 'marriage apparel'--that would be T-shirts(not something else!) carrying unique designs that incorporate phrases like, 'My Husband Rocks' within the logos. I decided that I would buy a shirt for me and one for Troy. The woman at the booth recognized me from last year--we started chatting and in leaving, she wanted me to have one of her CD's--even though I didn't purchase the amount set to get one for free, she said she felt led to give one to me anyway. Wow. Awhile later, I happened to pass by a booth for Care Net--the umbrella organization that has helped our local Crisis Pregnancy Center get up and running. The women who were there knew our CPC director and have been talking to her a lot. I also discovered that Care Net is looking to form partnerships with local MOPS groups so we can together serve women who need support. And we were just talking about doing that, at our last Steering Meeting! God is so good.

Probably the best encounter I had, with new people, was in meeting one of the women from MOPS international. I had heard, last year, that she was battling ovarian cancer. I wanted to meet her, but it never happened. I was just finished getting one of my books signed when I turned around and there she was, right in front of me. I introduced myself to her and asked how she was doing. I went on to tell her about my mom and recap our story through her illness. It was a teary moment that I will never forget. Then along came her daughter, our MOPS emcee for the weekend. I was able to meet her as well and get a picture taken together. I am amazed at how God knows the desires of our hearts and grants them when the time is right. I pray and wish Carol and Kendall, all the best in their relationship together as mother and daughter--that they will have many more years together as a family.

And then the clock struck midnight: our beautiful surroundings would soon be turned back into pumpkins--time to go home! I think all of us were exhausted, getting on that airplane. Sometimes the home-going is not so pleasant. Had to have a little 'heart to heart' with our airline when I got home. Guess what I discovered? I really do have it in me to stand up for myself and for what is right. One of my biggest struggles in life is in handling conflict. I learned, this weekend, that 'God is not afraid of conflict'. In fact, it is a part of life that needs to be had in order to make things better. Duh, right? Some of us learn this more slowly, I guess! I don't think I had ever felt more righteous anger towards anyone--or company--let alone what a suitcase can do to my emotions! But so be it. I learned something and intend on grafting into my life so that I can move forward with no regrets.

Ok, this is hilarious. Speaking of 'pumpkins', we are growing them in our garden and while I was gone, Adrian picked a big one that had already turned orange. Troy sent me a picture of it, on my phone, a day before we left. So when he came to pick us up, at the airport, there was that proverbial pumpkin--sitting on the floor of the van! Hmmm, somehow I find that very significant. Yep, we are back to our little pumpkins--no more Cinderella--until next year!

Not So Random

It's amazing what you can think of when you're busy sweeping the floor! Why do messes help us organize our thoughts?Hmmmm...while cleaning up, I had some memories playing back in my mind. One of them was about friends who had come and gone, in my life, over the years. When you meet someone, you imagine that you'll be in each other lives, forever. Everything seems so grand, so perfect...you wouldn't change a thing...and then, it happens: life changes things for you.

When I was 2-1/2 years old, my parents relocated from Nebraska to Minnesota. We settled into a middle-class neighborhood, in Rochester. My mom was finishing up nursing school at RCC and my dad worked in retail. For me, it was as if the whole world had opened up: there were kids, toys, and bikes going here and there, around the block, again and again. The ice cream man would glide through the streets with his little cart and alluring bells--and instantly, every child would be pulling on their mother's pant leg, shirt, or arm--begging for 50 cents to get their favorite Popsicle--he was like a modern day Pied Piper! I'm sure our parents just loved it when he came around(ha,ha).

I lived next door to the Peterson family. They had a boy named Michael, who was my age, and a little girl, Sarah, who was a few years younger. We had great times, playing together. Across the street was the Sandberg family, with their 4 kids(at that time). I was good friends with their oldest daughter, Allison. Our October birthdays were 2 days apart. Allison's sister, Emily, was also part of our little pack. We would have many adventures together. One of them was climbing the humongous willow tree at Michael's house. I'd like to think that I was the bravest one of the bunch, who somehow managed to get to the very top! We would make bets and dares upon double dare, to see who would win. It was a great time to be a kid!

And then there were swing sets, sandboxes, monkey bars, and my big backyard--which seemed so deep that I was sure a football team might have played there. My mom would comment that it always took so long to mow the grass with our puny little push mower! I recall draping sheets and blankets over the monkey bars in our yard. I would lay on the ground, gazing upwards, imagining that I would someday live in 'an outdoor room'--where you could feel the breeze and see the sky. I think truly, God puts those desires in our hearts so that we will someday strive to make our dreams come true(Did I mention that we have our retaining wall up now? Soon we'll be enjoying our new patio and outdoor room!).

Do you think it was some random, incidental choice that brought my family to this state, this city, and into this neighborhood? Probably not. I've come to believe that everything happens for a reason. Our family went to church and followed the ritualistic traditions that had been passed down for generations. We were a normal, American family by many standards. Were we happy? Did we have our share of troubles? The answer to both questions is 'yes'. But God knew that we also needed Him in the center of our lives. He placed us next to the two families I've already mentioned, so that we could see Jesus reflected from their lives and into ours.

I absolutely loved spending time with the Petersons and Sandbergs. Watching them be together was such a comfort to me because my own family was becoming more and more broken, as each year passed. Although my childhood memory can't recall when and how it all happened, I still could sense that something was not right; little by little, much sadness began to creep into our home. God surrounded us with good neighbors that helped us in so many ways. Even though they couldn't stop the inevitable, they were there to support us through the many changes that would be coming.

And Life did change for all of us. Our family divided into two homes when I turned seven. The Peterson's moved to Colorado, and the Sandbergs--across town--when I was about nine. I remember how devastating it was to lose those connections. Kind of like seeing that big willow tree get cut down, next door. No more shelter, no more tree-climbing. Sadly, those days were now over.

But around this time, I was invited to Camp Victory by my friend Allison. It was there that I discovered who God really was and how much He loved me. And not only that, I had never heard music like I had heard there. No church organs, no chanting, no dismal hymns...well, that's how they seemed to sound to me(I do like some hymns!). No, it was so different. I thought to myself, "Whatever it is they have, I want that in my life." And so began my walk with God, my journey of faith. That was back in 1986. My life was not very secure at that time. There were still many unknowns and changes, but I felt peace because I knew that someday it was going to be ok. And even today, music is a big part of who I am and what I do. I love to sing and use those gifts to praise God. He put that into my heart, even before I chose to trust Him with my life.

Now, here we are, 24 years later! Thanks to the miracles of social networking, I'm back in touch with Allison. My heart was warmed, knowing that her walk with God is also strong today. So coming full circle, God put her in my life many years ago--knowing all the events that would take place, ahead of time. Isn't our God amazing? He definitely has a plan and purpose for all of us(Jer. 29:11). I don't have to despair as to why He chooses to remove friends from my life, for a season. Or maybe I will never see some of those friends again--who knows. But, if I'm trusting Him completely, I know that He will continue to bring new people into my life, as well. Like another old friend once said, "Your heart grows bigger with more room to love all the new people God brings, into your life." So true.

"Into the darkness you shine, out of the ashes we rise.

There's no one like you, none like you:

"Our God is greater, our God is stronger. Our God is higher than any, other. Our God is healer, awesome in power, our God, our God..."(Chris Tomlin song)."

Getting an Education

When I first held my little guy in my arms, 4 years ago, the last thing I was thinking of was where he would go to school and how he might learn. I was in love, and that was all that mattered at the time. I remember thinking that my new occupation--'rookie mom'--was going to be the ride of my life and I wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible. Now jump ahead to today: I have two active little ones and the quiet peace of that hospital room is but a memory now.We are doing the preschool thing, and when that is not in session, I find myself answering all kinds of curious questions. I've added to my resume teacher, full-time referee, macaroni chef, band-aid expert, laundry-lady, dishwasher--I mean "dish stacker", and the list is endless--as any parent knows!

This week, we've had an education in weather patterns. The tornado that almost touched down over our house, decided to go east and visit my husband's parents. Quite an intrusion, this storm was! No warning, just the sound of wind, and then glass and debris everywhere, within a matter of minutes. We are thankful Grandma Suzie was not hurt and that the damage is able to be fixed. Adrian now understands what tornadoes are. He's been talking about it a lot since Wednesday, when it hit. Some of my favorite questions and remarks: "Mommy, do tornadoes live in the woods? Do they have sharp teeth?...Are they boys or girls?...Mommy, Grandpa Jim shot that tornado and now it's dead, lying in the ditch!...Mommy, that tornado is naughty--him needs to go back into the clouds!"

Want to hear something funny? By no intentions of our own, we've had to start educating our kids about gender differences. Those of you who have boys and girls know what I mean. They start asking questions, even at ages 2 and 4 years old. You can't convince me that little kids don't know that boys and girls are different, even from outward observations. In my world, there are many questions about which animated characters are boys, and which are girls. They want to know. Then we have to go one step further by defining which parts these cartoons have! It gets even better: we are out in public and once again, the conversation surfaces. "Mommy, that boy has a______! That girl has a butt and a _______!" Reminds me of the movie, 'Kindergarten Cop'--and here I am, living it out! I had to forewarn my relatives, over the Independence holiday, that they may be told which parts they have and why. It is torturing for me to keep a straight face in front of them and to keep from blushing when in the presence of strangers! Oh please, please, when will this end? I have to take it before God and figure out how to address this in healthy, non-shameful way. We are gradually learning how to do this...'what is and should be private is not to be discussed, in public'. That is my mantra to these curious monkeys I love and adore : )

It's a high calling, this parenting job. Quite often, I find myself asking God for wisdom to raise these little ones up. I have no shame in praying this with them, as we tuck them in at night. They need to know that I don't have all the answers and that I often make mistakes. It is humbling, and in a way, we're already teaching them through this simple act of faith. I struggle with what education choice will be best for our kids. For now, we are a part of the public school system and have had many benefits with our son, regarding his developmental needs. He is doing so well and I feel comfortable with his education team. Each year, God will give us the wisdom to know what to do...so really, I don't have to worry about it.

I am thankful that we serve a big God who is sovereign over every circumstance. Yes, He is even in control of my children's "curious questions and body awareness"! One of the hardest things I've begun to realize, about parenting, is the reality that our kids(like their parents)will have experiences that are painful--and despite our best intentions, we can't prevent every bad thing from happening to them. We have to trust God, the Father and let Him take care of the things we have little or no control over. He is the author and finisher of our faith(Heb.12:1-2)...and He continues to write the story of our lives.

The Force of July

After a busy summer, we were finally able to get away to the great state of...Nebraska! We spent the 4th of July weekend, in Omaha, visiting family. Driving around that winding, bumpy road, surrounding the lake brings back memories of other trips, over the years. We often get in late at night and the light is always left on(just like Motel 6!), as we're pulling in the driveway.

Walking into the house, this time around, was better for me than on other visits, since the funeral. I would feel such a personal loss, knowing that my mom wouldn't be standing in the doorway or getting up from checking her email, to greet us. While that feeling didn't hit me, initially, just being in the house for a couple of days made me more aware of the feelings that are still there. It's as if I'm getting closer to the awareness of my grief by being inside the walls that she once called home.

Going to church with family and friends is another reminder of this awareness. Maybe because we are in a place of worship that she called home, here on earth. She is no longer on stage singing--well, maybe she is and we can't see her--nor is she standing next to us. I find comfort in talking with some of her friends--women I see only when I come through those doors. It's a healing time for me to be around them and have that connection, even if for just a little while.

On a lighter note, we had a great time on Saturday, playing volleyball and watching the kids splash around in the water. Sand castles--or canals, rather--were built and after it was done it kind of looked like a little town back in biblical times! Too funny. Adrian loved it. He would say, 'No, that tunnel is bumpy' and then he'd grab some wet sand and slap it in place. Future engineer, maybe?

Samantha loves going out to eat. When she hears that we are going to a restaurant, she says, "I get to sit in a highchair!"My little sanguine. So colorful and full of life. She is all curls, brown eyes and well, to be honest, lots of mischief! But I love her for every minute of joy that she brings. Even when she is in trouble--or should be--it's hard not to laugh at her.

On Sunday, it rained most of the day. Perfect day to surf the satellite channels for good movies. Guess what was on? A Star Wars marathon! They called it "The Force of July". Nice play on words there-LOL! They kept replaying all 6 movies, over and over. So that was my Sunday afternoon. It was fun because those that were there all liked the sci-fi, galactic adventure(for the most part) so that made it even more fun. I still like episodes 4-6 the best. The new ones are ok, but there is something nostalgic about being a kid when the original movies came out. Nothing like that had ever been done, in the area of special effects and what not.

It has been said that half the fun of going on a trip is in getting there. That is somewhat true, in my experience. All the work of packing and getting everyone ready to go is worth it for the journey. We enjoy driving(when the kids are quiet!) because it gives us a chance to catch up on each other's thoughts. You could say that we have a captive audience in each other. I like to tease Troy because I never get to take a nap or get through a chapter in a good book, when he is driving. He will initiate conversation when he is at the wheel, more than at any other place. So I don't get much sleep, but I do get inside my husbands' head, which is worth far more than a nap, any day.

And just like that, 3 days goes by. I never like to say good-bye, but I do like getting home and into my own bed! Like I tell my kids' friends, when they don't want to leave our house, "You have to leave so you can come back, again!" I wonder if 4 yr.olds get that? I usually get some strange looks when I say that--LOL--but you know, it holds a lot of truth. All good things must come to an end...so that we can look forward, to the next good thing.