The house smells fantastic. Home made marinara sauce made with all fresh ingredients (most picked this morning from the garden) is simmering on the stove. We’ll have spaghetti tonight. I have really enjoyed cooking the past few days. Was thinking I’d make spiced orange scones for the early risers tomorrow.
My whole family is going on a medical missions trip to Mexico in two weeks. We are so stoked. Can hardly contain it! DeVon, my oldest son, leaned over to me during Sunday evening worship and whispered "I can’t believe I’m going to be a missionary at age 12! That’s gotta be a record!" I smiled and squeezed him a bit. He thought for a second... "Wait! Chante’s 10... THAT’S the record!" I leaned over and reminded him that his little brother was going too. "Whoah! Zion’s 6! Cool! New Record!". His eyes were wide and excited. I couldn’t resist... "Trinity may go too. She’ll be five." "Holy Cow!" he responded. He was just so excited to know that kids can do missions too! He wanted our family to hold the record for this trip. And, we may. But, I may break it to him that several of his cousins shattered those records by being born while overseas on missions. Don’t want to burst his bubble just yet.
I’m not sure if I will do the bible studies, or entertain the small children during the studies. I have determined to learn some songs in spanish and bring bubbles and face paint and make home made playdough for the kids. I will start my spanish lessons today. Ya know, learn something other than what is on the Taco Bell Menu...
My gorgeous niece, Savannah will be heading off to Cambodia for a medical missions trip. She will be on a medical boat going up and down rivers offering free medical care and bible studies. She’ll be gone for a year. She has waited an entire year to find a mission that suited her. And, since she will be going into pharmacology when she goes to Harding, she thought this might be the thing.
My family has done mission work with Native Americans in Canada and the U.S. , they’ve smuggled bibles behind the Iron Curtain, been back since, started churches in the Ukraine, Papua New Guinea, done medical missions in Jamaica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Mexico, studied in Greece, Italy, and prolly a whole lot more places that I’ve forgotten.
Derek and I on the other hand, had only been comfortable doing work here in the states. We dedicated six years to the work with the Navajos (loved it and miss it!), one year to a children’s home, and six years to the churches in Northern California. Which, by the way...was very much a mission... just didn’t have the core hardships of overseas work in underdeveloped countries. Rather, we dealt with the core hardships of a rich, spoiled culture.
More tomorrow.
-Jennifer-

It's been two months since Derek was let go from our church. Twenty days or so since I last wrote in my blog. I'd hand out a list of excuses, but none of them are as interesting as I'd like to think they are.

I used to wake up mid-morning and immediately wake up the kids. We'd do all of our morning routine quietly and then settle in for breakfast. After breakfast, we'd homeschool at the kitchen table while I tended to e-mail, lunch plans and dinner plans. Usually preparation for ministry events would be in the mix. My life was planned, orderly, quiet, effective, purposed and predictable. Very much predictable. I loved it...

Now I am in my sister's home. So grateful. They are a lively bunch... active, running in a hundred different directions, persistent visitors, weird meal times, a lot of ministry being done... a lot! I wake up at the oddest hours... usually determined by the hour that I went to bed. I have caught up on all the movies I have been wanting to see for a while. Saw "Signs" last night. Tee Hee... it was great to see it again.

I miss my old friends badly. Miss predictability. This coming from the girl who would fly by the seat of her pants! I miss the trail near my old home. I miss the clubhouse. I miss the phone calls, the online chats, the drop-ins. I miss my kids' friends. Hehe... would have thought?

My life is good though, make no mistake. I have a renewed and sharper sense of mission. Purpose. I am having more spiritual discussions than I had with the preacher at home. I'm needed here. Sucker for appreciation. But, I won't let it go to my head. I've learned a harsh lesson in humility recently.

I'll tell you about George the useless door defender. David, my Canadian cousin. Eddie the blue-eyed Puerto Rican from Long Island. Trevis the young investor from Barbados. Blake the laugher. Cici's flushing pizza. Taco Bueno... which isn't More Good, by the way. I'll tell you about Lyndal the comedienne... Savannah the 19 year old boat faring missionary. Trinity the straight shooting four year old with a love for the Phantom of the Opera. She's singing it now.

I have so much in my life. My cup overflows. And, I know it. I can't wallow in self-pity a minute longer... I have much to do.

My husband is searching for a ministry job. I write. He sends.

We're heading out on a medical missions trip to Mexico. So much to prepare for.

Girls and boys here are already turning to Derek and me as though they know we'll be their next leader. I'm not completely prepared for that.

I feel completely spazzed out at times. Unable to concentrate. Uncertain. Insecure. Craving home. But I'll pray through that.

This blog is all over the place. I'm being bombarded with questions. Gotta run.

-Jennifer-

The Arkansas Experience.
I defiantly straightened my hair today. So far, so good. A little poofy, but it still resembles it's original glory. That's cool.
It's oppressively hot and humid here.
Yesterday I went to an auction with my sister. We rolled up on a gravel parking lot... a lot of people were leaving and that was our clue that there really wasn't much to bid on. But, we decided to park and stay. An Arkansas Auction. I wondered how a southerner could keep an auctioneer's pace...ya know... with the drawl and everything. I was amused when the auctioneer called a toilet seat a "mother-in-law picture frame".
Based on what I saw at the auction... furniture stores sell off their broken items and other folks dump unsellable garage sale items in one massive, rocky parking lot. If you plan on bidding, you go up to the front and ask for a number. My sister's was #168.
There were a lot of "good ol' boys" hanging around. Many of them pulled up their horse trailers in the hopes of landing a good deal on the linoleum or bathroom cabinets or roof tar. Carolyn was right in there with them. Nodding and waiting and nodding some more. I was very careful not to raise my hand to pull back my hair when the auctioneer was doing his thing. "Come on, folks, we got uh pallet of ruf tar rat here! Whool give me two-fav... fav...fav-six... we got six... whool give me sevun... six... sevun..." I started to space out. We were only on the first row of junk and the stuff I was remotely interested was going to be auctioned last. I started to look around at the folks. I was dressed in my work-out capris, white t-shirt, oversized shades, curled hair and a white hairband. Apparently white ISN'T what you wear to an auction. On the other hand, if I'd been dressed in a pair of overalls and a John-Deere cap, I'd have fit right in. Prolly needed some Skoal in my back pocket too... ya know ... as an accessory.
I got sunburned and lost interest pretty quickly. Though, when I started to look at the junk as potential art it got interesting.
Eventually I made my way to the car, turned on the air and pulled a cold one out of the cooler. I was so refreshed. Carolyn joined me after a few minutes. She had purchased a bathroom cabinet, three boxes of contractor trashbags, a huge box of grill cleaner and three sets of japanese lanterns. I bought myself a sunburn. Actually... it was free. Nearly got run-over by a horse trailer. That was free too. Guess they don't take well to spaced out California girls on the parking lot.
After the auction, I got home in time to make dinner... the first crew of 12 was fed and the other crew of 10-15 (not exactly sure how many folks make their way through here...) nibbled on dinner later. Steak, potatoes, steamed squash from the garden, southern-style green beans (yes, Canadians know how to make those too!), salad and fruit for dessert. All I was missing was bread... but I was too tired to make any. The crews of folks enjoyed their dinner and then went to play basketball until nearly midnight.
The Wal-Marts here have everything in them. I bought icecream, milk AND shampoo in the same store. Okay... so that's not that impressive... but I'm easily impressed. Now, if only Target would do that! What? They do?!
On the way home from Wal-Mart, my neice and I had a hankerin' (Arkansan for "craving") for the ice-cream so we stopped by the Wendy's and ordered a drink and two spoons. They were puzzled. We broke out the low-carb and the family sized icecream and ate right out of the carton. Yes we did! Nothing better than forbidden icecream, tell you what! What nearly killed me though, was watching my sweet little sixteen year old neice slurp ice-cream soup out of a gallon pail... If only I'd had a camera! Just struck me funny, I guess.
So, my kids are at the water park. Derek's outside trimming bushes so the kids can play basketball. I'm blogging and taking a loooong look at the watermelon I just brought home. I hope tonight's a quiet one. Just a couple of friends, some ice cream, popcorn and a good movie or two... ya know?
So, other than the heat and humidity combo... life in Arkansas has been good to me. I'll keep watch on the horse trailers and see if I can get my hands on a John Deere cap. Maybe THEN I'll fit in!
-Jennifer-

I have curly hair. Not normal curly hair... not the "Oh, that's so cute, you're so lucky!" curly hair. No. I have a fro all over my head weighed down with frizzy wanna-be curls that can't decide which direction to curl. It's sad, really. Every once in a while I'll do something ingenious with my hair, but generally I just try to keep it this side of a mass of tangled frizzballs.
Have a few new friends here in AR. Been interesting. These young men are from Brooklyn, NY. One fella is 26 and originally from Barbados. Soft spoken, but a killer basketball player. He loves the Lord and is in this for the long haul. I wished he'd marry one of my neices... but sadly, these things aren't up to me. Sigh.
The other fella is 33 and only a few days younger than me. I couldn't place his accent at first, and I still have a hard time understanding him. But, I might get the hang of it sooner than later. He too loves the Lord. Both the fellas are passionate about what they do... which is convert people. I really would love a study with one of 'em just to see what it is a new convert goes through in the We Care Campaign... mostly morbid curiousity, mixed with a little genuine thirst for a good bible study.
We nearly drove through fog to get to a ball game tonight and all I could think was "There goes the hair!". Fortunately no one was there to check me out. Good thing too... I spilled chili nacho sauce on my new shirt. And, when I borrowed my sisters pull-over, I spilled diet coke on it. Felt like a real lady, I'll tell ya!
So... why am I obsessed with my hair? Is it a dominance thing? Control? Vanity? Acheiving the impossible? Probably a little bit of each. One thing for sure... I'm in denial. No one would know I had naturally curly hair cuz I curl it or straighten it every day. Unless of course they catch me at a baseball park in early June in Little Rock, AR. Then they'd see the real me. Messy. Unkempt. Vain. Sigh.
This blog is all over the place. (Kinda like my hair.) I'd best let you go... In the meantime I'll be working on just the solution to my humid-reactant hair. A formula.
Hittin' the sack.
-Jennifer-

I'm sitting in a dark hallway atop a stack of living room pillows. The carpet is a burnt orange and has undoubtedly seen better days. I'm on my neice's laptop and hooked up to the phone with the computer on a piano bench. It's my workstation. It'll do.
Our trip from CA to AR was painfully long. I couldn't drive more than four or five hours at a time. I wore open sandals, and by the time I had arrived, my feet were a horrible black colour, with a thick layer between my toes. But, the dirt took the eyes off of my swollen grandma ankles. There's always an upside, right?
The van was stuffed to gills. What do you bring with you when you don't know where you're going, how long you're staying, if you'll be camping, interviewing or just going right back to where you came from? What do you bring? As much as you can.
I even brought my stoopid guitar and a book hoping to learn on the trip. Turns out, while Derek was driving, I was supposed to be sleeping so that I could make myself remotely useful for a few hours as he rested. The guitar just got in the way. Perhaps I'll still find time while I'm here. I'm determined to learn how to play it, dang it!
We arrived in Little Rock just after midnight and found our family putting up wedding decorations in the church building. We hugged and said hello to everyone. Cousins came out from everywhere which thrilled our kids... Shortly after, we headed home to a pink, very pink room and crashed under the pink canopy. I think we slept till 10 the next morning.
The next few days would be filled with wedding plans, decorations, shopping, cooking, and lots of visiting! Eventually, we'd eat dinner together and shout "OOOooPaaaa!" as folks came through the door during dinner. It was an inside Williams' joke. Pretty funny if you ask me. Though the New Yorker had a puzzled look on his face.
The wedding was beautiful. The princess Di of our family got married... and with style! She married a Harding University Professor's kid... it had to have panache... ya know?! The reception was fantastic. A great difference from the rehearsal dinner... though both formal, the rehearsal dinner was accompanied by a young pianist who is training to be an orchestra conductor. Ours was emceed by Uncle Mike and we were entertained by family members with silly songs... true Williams' style. Loved it. The Neller family and the Williams' family clearly had different wedding cultures. Hehe... I was glad I'd seen My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding. I knew how it all ended!
We're still in the pink room. Kids roaming about. Aunties insisting that we "eat! eat!". Card games, RISK, and chatting late into the night... and cooling off at the local water park. A few Starbucks trips have taken me momentarily back to CA... refreshing.
I don't know what the Lord has in store for us. I'm unaccustomed to not being informed, in control or even consulted with my life's plans... so this is a matter of faith and patience. Much patience... sigh.
I'm going to put the Hummus and Pita chips away. Will join the kids in playing Nertz after finishing my laundry...
Oooppaaa!
-jennifer-

Tadpoles and fireflies. Stars peeking through the fog. What a change of scenery in my living. Daily. Not just in my living... In my life. The issues that were issues only a few months ago aren't even realities in my life anymore! Now... my life's scenery is completely changed. I like the tadpoles and fireflies... but it comes with humidity and bad hair. I think I can deal with that. Could you?

Faith. Believing in the things unseen. Mom said to me a few weeks ago "Live with the expectation of God's blessing!" Every step in sync with that. Every thought. Every doubt removed. Every fear cast aside. Living with the expectation. Living as though you are in it, as though you see it. Knowing what you don't know. Faith.

I've been living rather faithless this past week. I was in denial about it until the night before last. I was showing all the physical signs though I spoke as though I was faithful. (Speaking about faith comes much more easily than living by it.) My stomach was tight. Eventually, needed Pepto-Bismol. I lay awake at night after a long night of T.V. Wondering. Worrying. Entertaining surges of anger. In the daytime, I would begin a packing project and once overwhelmed by my thoughts, I'd lay on the bed under the fan and just think. Eventually, I'd give in to sleep. I hadn't talked to my husband about it. I hadn't resumed my prayers with God. I internalized it all. And, late one night, I began to weep. I was overwhelmed. Derek listened and reassured me that things were going to be alright. But for the first time in my life, I actually dreaded the future rather than pressing for it.

He asked me to join him on the floor next to our bed to pray.I poured out my heart to God. First, I confessed all my sin. Sins of doubt, fear, faithlessness, betrayal, stubbornness. I asked for forgiveness knowing that He'd already done it. Thanking him for that never ending flow of grace. Then I prayed for my doubting self. I asked for wisdom, strength, clarity of thought, boldness of Spirit. Not just for me, but for my husband as well. I prayed for our elders, leaders in the congregation. For those that I loved. Those that I never took the time to get to know. I prayed for the weak. I prayed for those that had done me harm. I prayed for their children. I prayed for my closest friends whose faith is also being tested. And, when I was done praying... after Derek had finished praying... I was calm. Finally.

All the food, rest, relaxation in the world couldn't bring me the kind of peace that God brought to me through prayer. Let that be a lesson...

So, though we still have no real leads on a new ministry. I believe there is one out there that will come just in time. In God's time.

Though we are moving out of our place in to a storage unit, I believe God has a home lined up for me... a quaint little place that will tickle me pink.

Though my kids are out of the loop with their friends, I believe that God is preparing life-long friendships in the road ahead.

Though our bank account is quickly fading, I believe that every dollar we've ever spent was a blessing directly from God, and He will replenish in His good time. It's a matter of faith.

Faith. We all live by it. Christian or not. We all live with the expectation that "it" will be there.

I hadn't written in days. I was in a state of ... oh, lets just say... ugliness. I'm glad that I wrote it here so that I can look back on it and marvel at God's faithfulness...

-Jennifer-

I've started this blog over four times.
Not for a lack of wanting to write.
Just a problem with WHAT to write.
I know you've been there.

So, it's Monday.

Just had a dream that I went shopping for an outfit to wear to my nephew's prom. Weird. He's twenty-something. Married now and he was homeschooled, and they didn't have a prom. And, even if they did - I wouldn't be asked to it.

Anyway, customer service was horrible, and I ended up eating a "Fatboy" icecream sandwich (talk about truth in advertising!) on the way out of the store. My husband was at the door, and asked about the confectionary... I explained that I'd been here all day, and this was all they had to eat.

He took me to a mechanic's shop before taking me home. Inside I saw a couple of rappers... Half-Dollar and other thugs. We decided not to stay long... peeled out in our white pimped-out mini-van and went home.

Was wakened when a friend who is in Hawaii called to say hello... that was cool. I ended up raining on her parade when she asked how things were going. Ugh. I hate it when I do that. Just call me Debbie Downer.

I've eaten more mexican food in this last weekend than I think I've eaten all year! Was it just because it was Cinco de Mayo or did I really have that much of a hankerin' for good nachos? Prolly the latter. Didn't even know what Cinco de Mayo was until I asked my black sister-in-law. She explained that it was the Mexican's Martin Luther King Day. Ooooohhhh... Now I got it. Any excuse for good nachos... I'll take it!

So, I ramble.

Can I get serious for a moment?

Just one.

My heart is here with the people. My head is in the future... what might be coming around the corner. How do I reconcile these things? Church two Sundays ago was torture for me. I was so incredibly hurt. I was near sobbing point with a couple of the songs. I don't cry. I make ugly face and tears and snot run down my face... then I sob. It's horrible. I had to leave, only to have a deacon grab me at the back of the church and hug me... I made ugly face all over his nice sunday shirt.

Derek was still leading the final song before the sermon, and he joined me outside. He was tore up too. We hugged... he went back in to find kleenex... and then another couple of friends came outside. Gosh! I sooooo didn't want to be seen crying! But there I was in all my splotchy glory!

This Sunday was much easier. My walls had been rebuilt. My switch had been turned off. I sang all the songs (Derek has been replaced) with no real emotion (sorry God!) and I was in control! BUT... I guess it hit all my friends this week! I was hugging and comforting and reassuring that everything was gonna be alright. I realized during those moments that my friends make ugly face too.

My head is in the future. Things are moving much slower than they need to be. But, I know that they are moving on God's time, for God's glory.

I hope that in all I do and say, that I will prove God's faithfulness.

I'm struggling with frustration, anger and my short temper. I don't know if now is the time to let my "Jennifer-style" frankness be heard... or if I should continue in the meek manner that I've been trying out. (So far, it's been driving me nuts.)

Gotta run.

-Jennifer-

I've been enrolled in Life University, and I had a test this week. Here are the results of my test. Jennifer's answer key. Hope I did okay...
Ministry requires sacrifice. Religion without sacrifice is not religion at all.
There will be those who work against you. Sometimes it's God's will. And, believe it or not, sometimes it benefits the church. Sometimes it destroys it.
Plant yourself deeper in the Lord than you do in your congregation. This way, when things go awry, you will have been loved by the Lord, and can afford to continue loving the church.
Remember that the church is made of sheople. They are willful, easily led astry, and turf-oriented. So are you.
Remember that you are a vessel used by God. In any way he pleases. Don't get too comfortable - if you are doing good work, he will continue using you! What a blessing to be used by the Lord for his good work!
Never become prideful of what you have accomplished. Never complacent. God has a plan that is so much bigger than what you can do. To humble yourself and commit your service to God is to do greater things than humanly possible!
Love the weak. Even when they are the leaders. Christ loved us even when we were more than just weak... when we were unrepentant sinners.
Take off your churchianity glasses and see people as God sees them. Never size people up and think you have it all figured out. God was always throwing people off when he'd choose the "least likely of these" to be his workmen. (Gideon, Moses, Paul...)
Don't ever give up. Not for one day, not for one minute. Someone's spirit is crying out for what they don't realize is GOD! Keep watch. Be faithful. You may work for salary, but you serve the Lord.
-Jennifer-

I've run the full gambit of possible human emotions this week. Shocked, horrified, stunned, incredulous, weepy, strong, faithful, suspicious, angry, hopeful, certain, secure, raged, humbled. And, pretty much in that order.
Derek was "let go" from his ministry job on Sunday. Just all of a sudden... "poof". Done.
He's been working for the preacher in the after-school program to make the salary that the church couldn't afford to pay him. But, suddenly the program itsself can't pay him, and the church was offered to take up the difference. And, the church can't afford to either. We've been here three years.
So... we have two months. A generous offer.
We were just rearing up to make another wave of changes and beginnings. Starting a new phase of our program with the youth. (Summer was coming... it would have been a good time to do it!)
But, the rug has been yanked out from under us.
So... I'm human. I have emotions about it. I loved these kids, their families, this church, this work, the evangelistic effort... and I think it's fair that I should react. I'm not a heartless evangelistic machine. I hurt. I hurt for them and for us. I weep for my own children who are forming their ideas of ministry.
BUT... I praise God. Praise Him because He is faithful. He is true. We are HIS workers, HIS seravants. And, we have committed ourselves to HIM. And, He has decided to take us elsewhere. His timing is not my timing... but it's always on time.
We're looking for God's next mission for us. We can't forget the kids we've worked with. The families we've grown to love. But, we're seeking God's will.
So, we wait.
-Jennifer-

Zion lost his first tooth last night. It was overdue. He was beginning to look like a shark ... with two rows of teeth. He had four teeth where there should have only been two. One was loose the other was thinking about it. But, the adult teeth were already out in their full glory!
I decided today was the day. Prepared with kleenex and a good light, I began prepping the tooth. I had tried before and failed. I couldn't get my fingers around his little slippery, slobbery tooth, so I asked Derek to grab the needlenosed pliers and give it a try. Expecting a lot of blood, Derek also brought a teatowel. After the first two tries, I tapped in! Zion was fine, but I was freaking out! I couldn't bear the sound of metal clinking on baby bone!
So, it was my turn again. Determined, I grabbed some kleenex and began to pull and pull and pull. Zion was intrigued by the tearing sound, but was still unhurt.
What kind of barbaric practice is this? I wondered. The two front baby teeth had been wedged in by the already grown in adult teeth. Hence Zion's new nickname "Sharktooth". I had explained to Zion that though he wanted to go to the dentist to have them pulled, it would cost mama $1oo per tooth. (Past experience with other tooth-stingy child.)
More pulling and a little prayer later - the small, defiant jaw finally gave up the tooth! Zion began drooling uncontrollably. He ran around the house shrieking! He was so excited! The tooth fairy was coming just for HIM!
After the excitement wore off, he went to bed. I reminded him to place the small tooth under his pillow. And, he went to sleep.
This morning I was up early. Chit chatting with Derek, cleaning out the fridge. (Organic food goes bad fast!)
Zion's loud, nervous call pulled me out of the fridge.
"MOM! DAD!" He sounded terrified. I thought he'd had a nightmare. "There's a REAL lizard in my bed!"
Definitely a nightmare.
I ran to his room and he was sat up in it... holding his little tooth. (DOH!) His eyes were fixed on the very tiny brown lizard that sat square under where his pillow had been.
"Uh, DEREK! Would you get this for me?" I stayed with Zion. The lizard sat perfectly still. The three of us looked at eachother nervously.
Derek sauntered in John Wayne style. Cool as a cat. He fixed his eyes on the lizard, casually picked up DeVon's shoe and took aim.
"WAIT!" "Don't hit the lizard with the shoe!" I stepped between the little creature and the over-armed man. Derek looked at me puzzled... then annoyed.
I had imagined lizard guts splattering the wall and my very impressionable son.
I picked up a dirty t-shirt off of the floor and threw it over the lizard. Scooped it all up at once and promptly walked out back. Did I feel the lizard moving? Ew. Stop it!
I let the lizard out on the terrace out back. Gently, quietly... then I stepped away. I hoped the neighbors hadn't heard any of the commotion!
I headed back to the apartment. There were three others on our level.
My head was still in the drama when I turned the knob and pushed the door open. A bearded man stood in the dark grinning. It was my neighbor! He was dressed and ready for work.
What is HE doing here? I wondered - then snapped out of it.
I had walked into my neighbor's apartment! I could have died!
I apologized profusely and began to explain something about letting the lizard out... I'm sure it all made sense!
I moved down one door and opened it. The familiar smell of coffee welcomed me.
I sat on the couch laughing and explained to the kids what was so funny.
My life is funny. Burned socks in the microwave and lizards under the pillow and early morning rendez-vous with the neighbors... I thought I wanted a normal life... but this one's cool!
-Jennifer-

What's your list of "must do before I die"? I read an article today by the guy who hosts "The Amazing Race".
In it, he suggests that we write down those things that we would love to do - yet might never do if we don't absolutely insist on it. Those things that tap into our "Wild Gene". Not crazy, might lose our life or family over it kinda stuff... but things that you want to do, places you want to go, memories you want to rekindle, kindnesses you want to share. Those kinds of things.
So... I'll write my list here:
(The aforementioned list may change at any time for any reason.)
1. I want to backpack in Europe, Tuscany and the Outback.
2. I want to be the Chief Creative Officer of a T.V. show or magazine.
3. I want my kids to graduate with exceptional skills and experience under their belts.
4. I want to build a cabin in Canada and use it to host missionaries on furlough.
5. I want to buy my childhood home and make it into a bed and breakfast.
6. I want to become a skilled artist in various mediums including watercolour, photography and acrylics.
7. I want to teach at my old highschool.
8. I want to finish my degree.
9. I want to be the "sane, nice, ACTUAL" christian on a reality TV show.
10. I want to write a children's book about my experiences growing up.

That concludes my list for today.
What's on your list?

-Jennifer-

The sock thing...
Per my friend's advice, I filled an athletic sock with salt, tied it off and nuked it in the microwave for a minute (she recommended as many as two minutes). This sock when placed under my ear at night would relieve my earache and draw moisture from my liquid filled ear.
Well... I asked Derek for a sock. Only one, please. He was puzzled. I explained.
A friend arrived to watch a movie with me and after making chai and popcorn, I filled the sock. Had to explain what it was for again. I thought I'd watch the movie with the sock strapped to my head.
I set the timer on the microwave for a minute.
We chatted and filled our cups with hot refreshment waiting for the sock to warm. The appliance beeped.
I opened the microwave to find smoke pouring out! The sock was burning!
We began to laugh incredulously!
I grabbed a paper towel thinking I'd grab the scorched sock and take it out to the grill. But... the sock scorched the paper towel!
So, I hurriedly snatched an oven mitt and took the smoldering sock outside to the grill where it lay and smoldered for a while longer.
By this time the kids were up and wondering what all the ruckus was about.
I explained that I filled a sock with salt and placed it in the microwave for my earache, but it caught fire. Their puzzled looks told me that they weren't getting it.
My dining room filled with smoke and I turned on the ceiling fan and opened the front door. Would have opened the sliding glass door, but the darn sock was still smoldering!
My friend, Le Anna suggested I pour water on the hot, smoking sock. Duh!
I grabbed a blue glass and filled it with water.
The sock had fallen apart and the knot was putting out serious fumes. I choked on the smoke.
The hissing sound suprised me as I poured the water on the sock. I wondered out loud how I was going to explain to Derek why the house was smoky and why I'd need the other half of that pair of socks.
We were rolling!
The sock and paper towel sit soggy on my grill.
My ear still hurts. But... I'll be looking for that other sock tonight!

It's 1:39am. Much too late to be up. Wasn't gonna blog... but I'm here, so I'll write.

I think I may have an ear infection. After battling an intense cold for the past few days, my sinuses have cleared up, but I have serious pain in my left ear. My good ear. The one I use for the phone and the one that I lift off of the pillow to hear anything my husband has to say. Hm. This could pose a problem.

Not that I'm complaining. I've been sicker. I've seen sicker.

Okay... you know it's late when the ORECK vacuum informercial comes on. Ugh. Hit the sack already!

Did the coolest thing with my camera today. I took an artsy picture of my daughter and "photo-shopped" it onto the Mona Lisa. She loved it! This picture isn't it... I'll have to figure out how to get it on there... but this one was similar.

My oldest son asked me to put him on Mt. Rushmore. Still figuring that one out.

We are headed to San Jose sometime this weekend. Puppet shows, bible bowls, art competitions, hotel schedules, rainy beaches and more. Sorta looking foward to it. Sorta not. I'm just tired. (Could it be that it's a quarter to one in the morning?!)

The following weekend I will be coordinating a Ladies' Day event. My first time, the church's fourth. So far, so good. I'm looking forward to having this one out of the way.

Gonna hit the sack. I appear to be rambling.

Re-visited the idea of listening to country music. I'll keep you posted.

-jennifer-

Okay, I'm sitting to a lunch made by my 10 year old daughter. Oh no... not pbj's... she made grilled marinated porkchops and salad. (Low-carb lunch!) And, if I could smell past my stuffed nasal passages, I'd know that this was a delicious meal! Meat was grilled to perfection - juicy - and from what I can tell - flavourful! The kid's a whiz in the kitchen! BTW, I was standing there the whole time. I was making a fruit tray for coffee shoppe tonight. Strawberries with cream cheese icing and grapes and Baklava.
So... I've noticed that my kids lack basic manners. Don't get me wrong.. they're polite in front of others... quite polite, in fact. But, at home, they have succomed to the older brother's potty humour. There's not nearly a day that goes by when "passing gas", butts" or "poop" isn't brought up in fashion or another. And, I've had enough! So... I've been hard on the kids. Guess it's my fault in the first place. I giggled the first time - out of shock. And it was all downhill from there. It doesn't take long for my kids to take a mile....
So... I've been working on manners from another angle. First, I started with table manners. Setting the table, proper table attire, table conversation and such. And after a few lessons we were ready to apply. We set the table nicely. Placed hot grilled tri-tip, and all the fixings on the table and prayed. After the prayer, the littlest one scrunched his nose...

"Something smells like ladybug poo!"

All the manners were out the window. I began to giggle.

"Oh yeah? What does ladybug poo smell like?" Hoping he wasn't referring to my tri-tip!

"Grass.... duh!"

The whole table erupted into laughter. It was everything we could do to hold it together and re-gain our composure. The lesson was lost for the night. We'd have to start again at breakfast.

Ladybug poo. Who's ever heard of such a thing?

-Jennifer-

Returning from Vacation brought us two things: clarity and panic.

Derek and I (like most couples) found a lot of time to talk and pow-wow about our life's direction, purpose and meaning. We chatted about our families' strengths and weaknesses - things we needed to continue, drop or improve.

To continue: Family Night, personal evangelism, women's ministry, SIBI classes.
To drop: ineffective programs, classes, bad relationships.
To improve: keeping family time sacred, homeschool schedule and priority, diet and activity level.

Dunno why we needed a vacation to come to that kind of clarity. Perhaps life grabs our attention and tends to distract us from the things that matter to us most. We need to go on vacation more than once or twice a decade - ya think?!

So, all in all, our vacation really served a purpose. Rest and clarity. I have a clearer understanding of why God intitiated the Sabaath by resting on the seventh day, of why he created winter and sleep... rest and refreshing.

Now, about the panic. Well... life didn't pause just because I had taken a break.

I have an LTC convention in a week and a half. A classroom of kids are depending on me to create their puppet stage and props and to coach them to do their best during the various competitions (Bible Bowl, art, worship banner, etc.).

The week following we will be hosting our annual Ladies' Day - of which I am the coordinator. This year is going to be so different than years past and I need to prepare our ladies for the changes.

The week after that, Derek is hosting his first youth suprise event. Have a feeling I might be needed to prepare for it. No worries, though. By then, I will no longer have LTC convention or Ladies' Day looming over me.

So, I gotta get busy. Vacation was fantastic, hope the picture reflects that!

-Jennifer-

Yo Semite!
Woo Hoo! What a wonder-filled trip that was!
We so got soaked!
As we arrived in the park, we noticed what the kids thought was a wolf. I think it was a coyote. I'll post a pic when I get my camera back. But, the creature was sniffing out the campsites near us. The kids' eyes were as big as saucers, but they didn't freak out. The animal was only a carlength away from us to begin with and stayed within 50 yards for about 45 minutes before heading off into the woods.
The boys set up the tent and I began preparing dinner. Campfires couldn't be lit until 5pm, so I made dinner on the campstove. Three-grain pancakes and homemade fruit compote was our hearty dinner that night. Was really good!
Derek got the fire going just in time to see the sun set. We sat around it, as the rain began to drizzle. We all threw on ponchos and sang devo songs for a while. Soon, we invited our neighbor Richard to join us. He was a dentist from L.A. A Korean-American.
We enjoyed mint hot chocolate from Trader Joe's and s'mores roasted on green sticks. Man, it was good! The kids cuddled with us before we headed off to the tent.
Derek had set up the tent and it looked good. But, in a matter of an hour it began to gather water and leak from a seam... right above me! I got Derek up and asked him to throw the water off... and told him we'd either have to fix the tent, or do that every half hour. He was pooped. He opted for every half hour.
I checked on the kids, they were dry and toasty. I was relieved. But, an hour later, I was freezing despite my best efforts to stay dry. The rain pattering the tent grew faint and then stopped. Derek thought it stopped raining, but judging by my steamy breath I knew it had started snowing. Derek thought "nawwwww...." and peeked outside. Sure enough. The rain had frozen over and it was snowing. If it had snowed to start out with, I wouldn't have been wet... but it was too late. I began shivering uncontrollably, and promptly changed clothes. Derek and I looked at ways to join the kids on the dry side of the tent, but it was full. We thought about just leaving them in their toastiness, but I was worried that they'd wake and find us missing and freak out. So, the poor darlings were wakened in the middle of the night to gather their blankets, pillows and haul it all back to the van. We had abandoned ship.
So, in the dark of the night, we passed our still glowing firepit and quickly made our way to the car. Derek had started the van, warming it for us. We were so relieved to see those seats that had numbed our bottoms hours before. I got the kids all set up with dry blankets, removed wet clothing and put on dry socks. Kids had to go potty - which was easier for the boys than the girl.
After an hour or so of fidgeting we all crashed in our van. Periodically Derek would turn on the van and heat us up because he hadn't quite warmed to the core yet. I was out. Later I woke to find the city-slicker under TWO sleeping bags. He'd finally found the heat he needed. I, on the other hand needed only to rely on my Eskimo fat layer to keep me toasty!
About 6:40 AM, Derek woke me up to look up the side of the mountain. The sun was up and shining on the peak of the nearest cliff. The snow had rested in it's cracks and crevasses and the sun shone brilliantly off of it. The sky was blue and the ground all around was white. It was BEAUTIFUL! I said "Wow, babe - that's gorgeous", and promptly returned to my exhausted slumber. A few hours later, I hear the kids whisper with excitement. The van was covered in snow.
The sun had finally reached us in the valley. And, we were ready to come out of our van-turned-tent. I made my way through the snow back to the tent to find it covered in ice. The fire was out. The picnic tables were covered in ice and snow. I set up the campstove and began preparing breakfast.
As the sun started warming the morning air, the trees began their assault on me. We had set up camp under large trees thinking it would keep us sheltered from the elements. Uh... no. As the warm sun melted the ice on the trees, the trees dropped their slushballs right on top of me! (I guess I'm a precipitation magnet!) I kept cooking depsite the air assault. The kids were wise enough to figure this one out and played in the clearing. So, as I was frying breakfast potatoes, I'd be pelted with miniature snowballs. Every once in a while one would land in the frying pan and sizzle. I was passive about it. Whatever. Snow is water, right?
We ate our hearty breakfast of potatoes, onions and spam. And, wouldn't you know it, but lunch would soon need to be on it's way. So, I started that. Derek broke camp rules and started a campfire at 9:30am. He did it for the kids' sake. They were freezing. Especially Zion who couldn't keep his little hands warm for soaked gloves. I warmed water for him and had him do up the dishes. (Clever,eh?!)
The day was gorgeous. The peaks we had seen and been impressed with the day before were now covered in snow. Beautiful! I took the same pictures all over again!
We only stayed for a day, but vowed to return! This time, in the clearing.
-Jennifer-

SPAM, snow and soaked socks.

But, first I'll tell you about the trip there.

We headed out to Yosemite pretty early in the morning. (I lost the bet.) Stopped in with Derek's folks to pick up dry firewood, the hatchet and the campstove.

Yosemite, it turns out, was four hours away. Not the two hours that somebody had remembered. No worries, though. We had enough trailmix to keep us in good shape for days. We shot down the freeway and then traversed highway 120 through the foothills, watching the ominious looking clouds that we seemed to be headed straight for.

The foothills were gorgeous. Here in California we run ads for California Cheese. They feature great looking cows on lush green foothills. The ad's motto is: "Great cheese comes from happy cows. Happy cows come from California." This ride in the cow-dotted foothills was straight from that Ad.

The road changed from long curves to hairpin turns, and the elevation change was dramatic. Looking over the side, we all began to secretly wonder if Derek had what it took to drive this treacherous road. And, in silence we wondered if anyone would find us in that ravine.

We had passed the hairpin turns and reached the mountain pass just in time to see snow. Lots of snow.

"Yosemite is in the valley, right?" I asked Derek who had been there several summers in his childhood.

"Yup!"

"So... we're going through snow now, but we won't be setting up camp in the snow, right?" I wondered out loud.

"Mhm!"

As we reached the peak, the snow banks were an impressive 5-6 feet high on either side of the narrow road. The clouds were thick and the snow began to fall. The tall redwoods were a real contrast to the thick blanket of snow. I wondered how fresh it was.

Derek and I exchanged nervous glances. The road began to gather slush. Any minute it would be ice and I knew we didn't have snow tires or chains. Or money for chains for that matter.

I prayed silently and turned on the camcorder and camera. "If they find us in the snow bank in the spring, at least they'll have our last messages to friends and family on videotape." I snapped out of it.

It was a quiet 24 mile trip through the pass. And, soon the snow blanket began to recede and the falling snow turned to spitting rain. We turned a corner and the most wonderful thing appeared. A huge, granite mountain! We all squealed with excitement! Turned another corner and squealed some more! Soon, Derek pulled off to the side of the road to look at a waterfall across the river. I hopped out with the kids and the camera and began to take pictures. It was truly the most beautiful landscape I'd seen since Canada!

A middle-aged couple was there from North Platte, Nebraska. Just retired. How cool is that?

We pulled up to the check in station and paid our $20 to get into the park. It was a 6 day pass. 6 days. I wondered if we'd be stuck there six days. It was getting ready to snow that night...


-Jennifer-

You're not gonna believe this.

First, I'm up early. Yeah. 5:45am.

Second... it'll be snowing in Yosemite all day today until late tomorrow. Poetic justice or just really bad luck? We'll see!

We're going, though. Like some pioneer family. Braving the elements to see the wonders of God's good creation. Should be fantastic! And... cold.

Gotta run. We're actually getting in the car to head down to Derek's folks' place. They have a campstove and firewood and a hatchet. Should come in handy with the bears.

-Jennifer-

We're supposed to be in Yosemite right now. As it is, however, we've just finished watching SuperSize Me. It's dinner time and I asked the kids what they want for dinner - Zion yelled "Let's go to McDonalds!". Hm. I think he gets that from his mother's side.

So, we have campfood. I cleared the pantry, fridge, and cupboards and filled the car with campfood. Stuff we would never eat at home. Stuff I never buy. Jiffy pop, s'mores, chili, beef stew, canned (gag) tamales, SPAM, (hurl)... we wanted to go all out on the camping experience... I think we may have overdone it.

We were supposed to go camping early Monday morning through Wednesday morning but there was a 30% chance of rain - I said I'd take the chance, but no... we waited for better weather. Prepped for Tuesday - was rainy, checked the forecast for Wednesday - rainy, with snow storms in the higher elevations. Packed it all up today to head out despite the weather and it turns out our late nights have wreaked havoc on our ability to get up anytime before 10am. WHAT?! We're on VACATION! Needless to say, we weren't really packed up until about 4pm. Sigh. We decided to wait and go in the morning. Yes. It will rain. Yes. We will like it. SPAM and all. (BTW, never had SPAM before - actually looking forward to it.)

Just so you don't completely freak out. I DO have a hearty, 3-grain pancake on the menu in the AM, along with a homeade fruit compote. That's about the ONLY healthy thing on the menu. But it's just enough to soothe the nutrition beast in my mommy brain.

So, the fridge is nearly empty (meaning - "nothing goes together"), and I'm breaking out what would have been tonight's campfire meal. An old Indian standby. Fried potatoes and onions with hamburger and ketchup. Bannock on the side. Ugh. It sounds awful here, but when you poke your fork into a lightly salted potato with a fried onion hanging off of it, dip it into cold ketchup and place that too hot morsel in your mouth, you totally forget how nasty it looks or what it will do to your trygliceride levels....MMMMmmmm.

So, I gotta get into the kitchen. We left the car packed. Gonna hit the sack relatively early tonight. Riiiiight!

Who wants to place bets on when we ACTUALLY leave tomorrow? I got 10 o'clock.

-Jennifer-

My closet just puked last year's treasures, bills, reciepts and forgotten christmas presents. I'm still cleaning it up. Ugh. What a chore!
I'm doing it for my man. I've decided to give him the masculine living space he's always wanted. So, we're going Japanese in the Master Suite. At least, this is what he calls Japanese. We've eliminated most of the furniture. All but the bed and two night tables. I'm hanging three Japanese lanterns to replace our lamps. And, I'll be putting up curtains tomorrow. Gorgeous, modern, sleek curtains. The art will be the pi'ece-de-resistance, made by yours-truly. Even the desk is out. But, the modern looking bookshelf will replace it.
The closet itself was a swamp of debris. Sadly, the household clutter landed there when we hosted devotionals in our home recently. Oh please, like you've never thrown things in the closet out of desparation after a mad frenzy of house cleaning! Mhm!... That's what I thought!
My daughter inherited our old bedroom suite. Couldn't bear to throw it out. So, her room is stuffed. Looks fantastic, though. Thinking I might paint it all for her. Something girly. Wwwwaaaaayyyy out there in the future somewhere.
I have to tell you that this deep cleaning has been a real wake up call for me. I hang on to stuff out of fear, not necessity. It's silly, really. I haven't found anything that can't be replaced. (Save my birth certificate and marriage license... in a baggy... under my wedding shoes. Doink!)
I'm so blessed. Not only did my husband move furniture, clean, and make hotdogs tonight, I'm getting a serious therapeutic back rub as I type. But, I think I'm done typing now. ... Oh yeah. I'm done.
C YA!
-Jennifer-

I only have a minute. The shrimp is defrosting in the sink. The kids are outside playing and Derek's working out. Gonna make Shrimp Alfredo for the family. All home made except for the noodles. (I'm good, but not THAT good!) We'll see how they like it.
Had a great convo last night with Niki. She's so cool. I'd like to say we were friends in college. But we weren't. I think we were eachother's nemesis... Nemisises.... Nemesiii... ergh... Whatever. We weren't nice to eachother. Embarassing but true. Anyway, it turns out that after 13 years, we've really lived very parallel lives. Youth ministry, kids, homeschool. It's just too funny. Ironic. We caught up on so much in our three hour marathon conversation last night. Something tells me we could have talked more if it wasn't so darn late...
I told her I was working on a mural in my dining room. Here's a pic. Still not done. The bottles are floating and the floor is missing. But, it's all drawn in. Just needs the paint. If you look over to the far left, you will see the placemat picture I'm working from. Wish I could say it's an original. But, it's a Jennifer Clarke, not Jennifer King. I'll post the "after picture" when it's all done. Next week sometime.
We've decided to go camping at Yosemite National Park next week. Today is major laundry day. AND, I have to braid up Chante's long hair. There's NO way she's gonna be able to keep the twigs and bugs out of her afro while camping. Might have to rent a chick-flik to keep her sitting. Shoot... to keep ME sitting!
Fiddled with the camera today. Love that thing! Will post my nutty pictures when I figure out how to.
I have had the kids write and draw in their Vacation Journals. Will scan and post some of the more amusing ones next to actual photos of the day-trips when I get the scanner all set up. I think I"m going through a sort of techno-phase. New camera, blog, scanner, even photo sharing. Weird. I told Niki last night about how my first internet experience went. Krmph! Will have to share that sometime.
But, for now, I need to go peel some shrimp, and make alfredo sauce. Yummy!
-Jennifer-

New to the digital camera thing, new to the blogging thing, new to the posting pictures thing. Recipe for disaster? Probably.

My picture is grey. I took it in the dark. It was late (enough dark circles to compete with Saturn!), the camera added about 70 pounds, and... my hair was on the fritz. Other than that... I look smashing!

Was encouraged by a friend to just fiddle around with it. Prolly shoulda picked out a kid's pix and posted it. But, noooo...

I still haven't figured out how to post a pix of me on my profile. Should get the hang of it before too long.

So sleepy. Gonna hit the sack now.

-Jennifer-

I'm not gonna lie... I want a dog. Not just any dog. A big dog. 'Course... not too big. I wanna wrestle with it and run with it and play with it. I think it would be a nice addition to our family.
I've been checking out free dogs at www.craigslist.com hoping that I would find just the dog. And, today... I did. His name is Zeus. A mutt (my favourite!). He's up to date on his shots, etc. My only concern is: how much does a dog like that eat? What does the dogfood bill run every month? Can we afford to feed it? Take it to the vet if necessary? Will our rent go up since we have an animal?
We have a fish in Derek's office. A gold fish. With big-boogly eyes. We put him in my old blender and named him Rodney. As in Dangerfield. He's since moved on up out of the blender ghetto and into a penthouse donated by a parent at the school. Blender still sits on Derek's bookshelf to remind Rodney of where he came from. Hehe. Rodney probably gets fed too much. Every kid that walks into Derek's office asks if the fish got fed. A couple of adults too. This week, we're getting Rodney a bride. From Wal-Mart. They'll get married before they move in together. The teens insisted on it. I'll decorate. We'll have Goldfish cracker snacks for the reception.
But... I really do want a dog. I've had a few before, but they never lasted long. My dalmatians were stolen - twice. And, my black lab had 6 seizures in 3 days. We returned him. Hadn't even named him yet.
Zeus. I like that name. I'll keep it in my back pocket for when I get a dog... In the meantime, I'll take care of Rodney... and his new bride, Dorothy. (Elmo's fish.)
-Jennifer-

Zion: "Can you help me tape these glasses to my head?"
Mom: "Uh sure, whatcha doin'?" I found the tape and pulled two pieces.
"I'm controlling electricity and I need glasses like Scott (X-Men) and Neo (The Matrix)."
"Oooohhh..." I took the armless glasses and applied tape where he needed them. "So you control electricity, huh?"
"Yep". Wonder-boy skips off.
It began storming only a few minutes later. Zion loves thunder. Strange child.
It only took a few minutes before the thunder quieted and Zion returned to my room.
"I made the storm stop."
"Kewl! Thanks!"
"You're welcome!" He sat next to my desk and began to strum on my guitar.
A few minutes pass... I continue typing... the faint sound of rumbling re-appears.
"Argh! My powers!" Zion jumped up and ran to the window. "They're driving me nuts!"
He threw open my bedroom blinds and pointed his open hands to the sky, staying for just a few seconds. Satisfied, he returned to my guitar.
The thunder stopped and I was impressed. Poor kid. You know it's gonna go to his head.

Going back home...
What is it to go back home? Explore your stomping grounds?

I wonder if it's a normal part of the human development to go back to where you came from and find clues or tokens that would explain where you are.

My trip to Canada is up in the air. We don't know if we're going. However, my desire to go, to take my family with me is overwhelming. I feel like it will explain so much.

The "States" have welcomed and embraced me. I feel at home here, make no doubt. But, when I hear northerners speak, when I hear snow may be coming our way, when I spot perogies on the freezer shelf at the grocery store - something deep inside me wakens. A longing to return home.

It was a simpler life. Happy times, though sometimes darkened by wounds that took many years to heal. For the most part my memories of "home" are cheery, bringing contentment to my soul.

Days playing in the woods around our home. Exploring. Adventuring. Making up fantastical stories and playing them out. Climbing trees, digging underground forts, picking berries, swimming in the river. We had a huge playground - the northern Saskatchewan woods. Safe. Inviting. Full of suprises, yet year after year offering the same thrills. Being chased by foxes, spotting the occasional truck, jumping sand dunes, clam digging, spying on neighbors who enjoyed their own adventures in the woods.

Mom would pack lunches or make muffins early in the summer mornings. We'd pack them up with the other "essentials" (what ever suited our fancy, tools, hammers, nails, plastic trashbags-turned-parachutes, a few toys, and always our brother's adrenaline syringe - just in case we'd stirred up a wasp nest... again.) We must have put on miles in those long summer days. The sun was up so early - always before me. And the sun didn't go down until well after bedtime. Back then, I could run and never grow tired. I was amazed at my own endurance! I helped restore our tree house to it's former glory, and spoke of plans for new cabinets and wall paper. (See? Even then I was an interior designer!) We strolled out further than allowed. Past the treelines, past the logging roads, always inching out further into the endless woods. We learned how to read moss. We found better berry picking, promising ourselves that we would remember where the "good patches" were. Eventually - just when we knew we were close to the north pole, we found the golf course. Sure, it was anti-climactic - but we found that if we picked up stray golfballs and sold them, we could have a buck or two in spare change that burned a hole in our pocket. So, no north pole... not this time anyway!

The auction house wasn't too far from home, either. We'd sometimes go just to see the frenzy of people and the treasures they'd lug out to their cars. A lot of Indians at the auction. The convenience store was owned by a school friend's parents. We weren't allowed in. My parents forbid it. But, out back was another set of sand dunes. (Land that had been carved out for a garbage dump, and then the local government changed their mind. Made for great BMX riding, though!) I remember the day my brothers found a dead dog out there. We were fascinated by the maggots. Jeez we needed a TV!

The empty garbage dump (we call them the "Big Hills") was a massive, exciting playground. We "parachuted" off the sandy cliffs and dared eachother to go further than the last. This was before Fear Factor. We brought our BMX bikes and rode the dunes all day long. Sometimes we'd haul dad's cinderblocks and plywood out there and make "jumps" that nearly killed us off one by one. My sister didn't have a BMX - she had a banana seat and we teased her endlessly about it. Of course, when one of us got a flat, you know whose bike we rode double on, right?

Up in the corner of our property mom had planted a garden, complete with a compost heap. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why mom wanted trash out in her garden. Though it makes perfect sense now! The freeze always came earlier than expected and mom would send us all out in a hustle to pull the carrots and any potatoes before they were ruined. The ground was frosty and my hands were red and numb but full of half frozen vegitation those mornings! There was a real sense of satisfaction pulling hard-earned carrots from the ground!

We were picked up by school bus. Mrs. Fremont was the driver from hell. She hated us. If we weren't exactly at the stop, she'd just roll on by. We'd wave frantically and then run to the other side of the property, over the hill and through the snow to catch her at the next stop. The bus was always cold and I think there were only 10 of us who rode it those 9 years I rode the yellow deliverer. In the winter time the windows would frost over with a thick frost. I'd scratch pictures or my name or just place my palm against it to watch the ice melt. The cool kids sat in the back, the bad kids always had to sit up front. Mrs. Fremont made the Indians sit up front too. So she could keep an eye on them. I hated it. She hated me. But, I was in love with her son, my 6th grade teacher - Mr. Fremont.

I always sat in the front of his classes. Answered questions, payed attention. Was the most attentive, creative, helpful little girl you could find. I just knew he'd notice and marry me some day. He was also my first soccer coach. Sigh. Too bad I wouldn't get along with the mother-in-law, right? It was never meant to be.

I attended Red Wing Elementary School. I remember most of my teachers, principal and vice-principal. I remember the ones who disliked me and those that seemed loving and patient. The older they were, the more kind they were. I remember when our gym got the big gold and brown stripes around the walls. I thought that was so cool. We'd also had a special guest - a guy with no arms who showed us how it was to run a film projector with his feet. He told us not to watch, and I was foolish enough to actually close my eyes! I was probably the only one! I had won platinum awards in nearly every health and fitness test we'd had in that gym. Except the one where we had to do high-jump. I never mastered it. Never even started it. I'd run and come to a screeching halt right at the hurdle... I couldn't figure out how to run in one direction and turn around and jump backwards. Still can't figure it out!

Recesses were cold outside. Mostly, in the dead of winter, I'd huddle around the incenerator. When I wasn't there, I was at the tetherball pole - either killing someone in the game, or sticking my tongue to it. Yes. I got stuck. More than once. A real bright child.

So... I want to go home. See if the tree house is stil there. See if the climbing tree still stands. See what they've done with the "Big Hills". See if the road to the Big Ridge is still there. See if the berry patches still exist.

I heard mom sold her last acre... the one with the garden. I may go there just to pray and thank God for my childhood. It was good. Just the way it was.

-Jennifer-

I haven't been faithful.

To this blog.

No, it's not another blog...

It's me.

I've been, um... lost in my own mind. (It's a big, empty cavern.)

I promised the view from my window. But, I've pulled the shade.

Here's the truth. I may have the opportunity to meet my bio family for the first time in 27 years. I may have the opportunity to share the gospel with them during that short visit.

How do I feel about it?

Mmmm... ambivilent. Unsure. Dunno if it will actually happen. I've become somewhat of a skeptic these days. IF I get there... I will share the gospel. That I know for sure. The gospel is the reason I'm alive - inside and out!

Does my family know?

Yeah. They know. They're excited for me. Which is cool. They know I run no risk of returning to the old family or their way of life. This has been the tragedy of brothers and sisters past.

I have been able to switch that excited button on and off for a few weeks. Excited when I think of the possiblities. Skeptical when I think it might be just a dream. I visualize me telling them all about how God saved me. How God loves me, in spite of me. How God used me, utilizes me. How God has wonderful plans for them too. His offering of grace, forgiveness and goodness. I hope, HOPE that God allows me this opportunity to share with them. He may say "no" or "not yet"... but I pray that the time comes before I lose opportunity to tell my Grandpa Ben.

Grandpa Ben. Hehe. He's an old man. 81. He's short and has patches of white skin... which look funny on an old Indian. I used to wonder if he was white or Indian - seeing as he was spotted. He is gentle, patient. He is a trapper and still prefers to work up north on the lines. Grandma, when she was alive, used to take his furs and make them into mukluks. I have a pair that I treasure. Grandpa also has a fondness for liquor and women. You'd think in his old age...

Doreen. She's my mother. I look just like her, but I'm white with curly reddish brown hair. She's Indian. From what I can tell, she's a floater - never really settled down. She makes a lot of demands on those around her. Grandpa especially. She works hard when she wants something, but she doesn't want consistency. She's a gambler. Bad. She had an older son, David. The brother I grew up with. He lived a violent life and was murdered in her front yard two years ago. He was tall and handsome. I have a younger brother, Gerald. Spitting image of me - exept tall and handsome too. It looks better on him. He was taken from her at birth, through a set of difficult circumstances. She prefers to call it a sort of abduction, but I think someone was looking out for that baby. I met him in my adoptive home when he was nine. What a trip that was!

I don't remember much of anyone else. Cousins galore, but I couldn't name them or place them 27 years later. Everyone seems to remember me. I was the green eyed, blonde Indian that was taken from Doreen and John.

I remember the day I was taken. We were living in those dark brown apartments in Prince Albert. It was dark. I was watching TV with John on the couch. Police lights flashed on the wall in front of me. I don't know who answered the door. Doreen was out getting Kentucky Fried Chicken. I remember sitting in the back of the police cruiser. I was calm. Doreen's face was tear-streaked. John was gone. In cuffs, somewhere. I don't remember a lot of noise. I don't remember caring. I was relieved. Was there snow? Was it cold? I think so.

My first foster-home - at least the first one I remember - was a farm. I had a room upstairs. The lady loved to do my hair. She bought me nice clothes... a first for me. I even had "Fruit of the Loom" underwear and undershirts. I felt so grown up. The school was far away. But, I wasn't there for long. They had a Down Syndrome boy. He went too close to the fireplace once, and I slapped his hand. I was promptly spanked with a spoon. They were good to me. I think they loved having me. There was a lot of quiet there... order... peace.

I remember pulling up the long driveway to the Williams' home. I clenched my paper bag of clothes. It was April. The social worker helped me out of the car. I could have gone anywhere. But, God brought me here. The house was full, but the parents were willing. I was nervous, but I was greeted by who would become my little brothers and sisters who promptly showed me the house. We played on the green carpet in the rumpus room while the social worker talked with mom and dad. Susan was home. I think it was her birthday. She would be the older sister who shared a room with me, was motherly to me. Susan died two years ago.

I am overwhelmed by the thought that I could have gone anywhere else. Adopted - or never adopted - and never have known God! Hot tears of gratitude stream down my face, as I think of my God-fearing husband, and my sweet, christian children! I thank God for rescuing me, leading me to a home that would guarantee an opportunity to know Him, love him and share Him. My prayer is that I can boldly go back to where I came from and share Him with them.

Forgiveness happened so long ago. It wasn't a sudden, dramatic moment. It was gradual, and easy when I realized that I, too needed to be forgiven by God. Satan used weak people to try to destroy me as they did my brother David. And, who knows why God rescued me? What purpose do I have? All I know... is that I need to share it...

Saturday was quite busy. 8 hours of driving, a pick up at a birthday party, a funeral, a kickboxing tournament, and the rest of the day was a family day. The driving time was some of my favourite time. Just sitting and reading, or singing, or homeschooling about wind turbines, or talking ministry, or making animal sounds everytime we passed one. Derek was the best at that. Not bad for a city-slicker! We haven't had a real family day in so long. And, we haven't taken a trip out of town even just for a day with just our family in years! It was a welcome relief!

The kickboxing tournament was a valentine's day gift to my husband. We were special guests of the promoter, and could sit anywhere we wanted. I had forgotten to tell Derek that. We ended up sitting in the bleachers in a regular sized gym. But, shortly after we sat down, Kung Le and other grand master champions sat right in front of us! We were so stoked! We had watched Cung Le and some of these other fellas for inspiration when we were training "back in the day". Zion got down showed us a few of his new skills... too cute! DeVon walked up to the new feather weight world champion and shook his hand. The boy is not shy. He said he'd never wash that hand again. I'm afraid he might be right! It was a night our family will never forget. Derek was so grateful... and I'm so glad that he was able to do something that was soooo him! Now that I have a contact with the promoter, I'll be able to score tickets for other tourneys and have some contacts here so we can finish our training! Derek's plans are to take the youth to the next tourney... hehe... that's gonna be kewl!

I have craved a day at home... no responsibilities other than the ones at home. No appointments, no meetings to prepare, no classes to teach, no birthdays to decorate for... just a day to be home... take care of the home. Be a home-body. And, wouldn't you know it? Today is that day! And, just in the nick of time. Something smells in the kitchen...

Plans to go to Canada in March to share the gospel with my bio family are still in the works. When you pray today... pray about that, will ya?

-Jennifer-

Looks like cupid puked in Wal-Mart. "Clean up on aisle four!"
Just got back from my hot date with my hubbie. Was so pleased to know he’d made plans. I didn’t care what the plans were... we coulda sat in the darkened park and sipped on hot chai. That would have been great. BUT... we knew we were going to the movies (free tickets... a gift from a friend at Christmas), so we hit the bulk candy section of Winco and stocked up on all our favourites. His were chocolate, mine were gummy and sour. Hehe. To be fair... I did grab a scoop of chocolate and yogurt covered raisins!
I had shopped all day for a new blouse. Found some trendy ones... flashy in colour and style... A couple of cool ones that I really liked, but were just not flattering.. A really nice conservative sweater - preppy... And one that my kids begged me to buy - a blouse with a built-in-necklace - fake diamonds and rubies. I kid you not! It was the tackiest thing I’d ever tried on! I went home defeated and put on my turquoise beaded tunic blouse... a favourite, wore jeans and high-heeled shoes. Curled up my hair and touched up the makeup. It would do.
We went to Chipotle... ate fajita burritos ... my personal favourite. We knew we didn’t have time to eat it at the restaurant, so we ate it in the car in the Movie Theater parking lot. Silly us, we forgot to grab napkins, so we scoured the van for one... and found just one... Derek sweetly sacrificed it to me. (He knew I’d need it!)
The movie was Pink Panther. I loved it when I was a kid... and I love Steve Martin. Was a great movie! Barely touched the candy... the unfinished burrito had stuffed me.
Coffee out is our favourite date. We plan out ministries... bring eachother books and I find great painting ideas, mural ideas and decor ideas in this modern library called Borders. We only had a half-hour. Derek ordered a mocha... I was still too stuffed to buy anything at the counter. It was my last day off the diet and my mind was screaming "NO! You fool! You must have something now or you won’t see a sugar-laden coffee dessert for months, maybe years! Order one now!" But... just the thought of washing down that fat burrito with a frappacino was nauseating. I walked it off in the store. I found a hair magazine and decided that I’d better get to picking a new style or colour since I’ll be going in to the salon on Friday. Right now I have a long, curly, layered style. Brown hair with red and blonde highlights. Was thinking I might go shorter... wilder. Derek wasn’t so impressed. He doesn’t like messy hair. Too bad... I was thinking it might go with the nose ring I’d planned for. Sigh.
So... all in all... we wondered out loud where we’d be in another 10 years. Kids will nearly all be out of the house. We figured we wouldn’t be at our current church anymore. But, we assumed we’d still be in ministry. (As the Lord allows, of course!) I hoped we’d be more effective, more grounded, more evangelistic. I knew we’d be closer than we are now... which is hard to imagine. I also knew that we aren’t promised another moment - as I have lost two sisters and my dad in the recent past. I reminded him that I was insistent that he re-marry should I be called home. That the woman be ministry minded, pretty and funny. He’d need that. And... that even though the kids would be grown... they’d need to have a say. He didn’t want to talk about it... but I needed him to know how I felt.
Dates with Derek are always uplifting. He listens, cares, laughs, wonders, ponders, considers. He’s wise, funny, smart, handsome, witty, talented, outgoing... a real good date. A great husband. I know... I KNOW I don’t deserve him. His dedication to me is difficult for me to understand... but I love him even without that understanding. I really didn’t know what I’d picked when I picked him 12 nearly 13 years ago. But I got a gem... priceless.
Valentine’s day has become so silly. So commercialized... much like the "love" you’ll see on t.v. Fake, flashy, short-lived.
I hope that christians will show the world what love really is. Make valentine’s day a christian holiday - and cupid can recover from his hang-over somewhere else...
-Jennifer-

Just finished a book: How To Deal With Nasty People Without Becoming One Of Them. Finished in one night. It was short... don’t get too excited for me.
The writer, Jay Somebody-Or-Other, used the word "Invalidator" to describe someone who is... for lack of a better term: Nasty to folks... specifically to you.
Invalidation comes directly, i.e.: insults, temper, humiliating you or comes indirectly, i.e.: double-sided compliments, creating a sense of dependency through flattery then ignoring you, etc.
I have been struggling for over a year with a group of people who seem to have used every angle if invalidation with me, and up to this point had me under their control. I wanted revenge, I wanted them to be exposed for what they are, but tonight I found much more satisfaction in knowing that I could deflect their attempts at control and leave them ineffective.
There are specifically two mechanisms that I eagerly anticipate using: the first is to ask them to repeat themselves. This helps reveal their motives should they try to water it down the second time around. This works best with the underhanded attempts at invalidating. And, for the more direct manipulators, to use their own tactics on them. Like a mirror... reverse it. Usually an invalidator uses the techniques that would work best on honing in on his insecurities. This will take a greater amount of effort than the first, but it is an effective tool with a bully.
I have to be careful that my motives aren’t skewed. I need to be sure that I am not aiming at revenge or humiliation. My motives for now seem pure, but everyone can be an invalidator at some time and I need to be sure that I don’t begin to morph into my own living nightmare. After all, invalidators were bred by invalidators.
It was a welcome book in the midst of the other books I was reading. The other books have been incredibly encouraging - but the question of what to do with the bullies was nagging, tugging at my subconscious. It interrupted my thoughts, prayers and I became introverted as a result. Frustrated. Shamed. Ineffective. To have this understanding and available tools is so refreshing. I hate not knowing what to do. I hate doubting myself, assuming always that the problem is either with me or just a figment of my very own active imagination. I’m not nuts. Whew!
Vulnerability. Not so good with it. But hand me some tools (not necessarily weapons), and I’m good to go!
I had to get this out before I went to sleep. Other wise it would swim around in my conscious mind and keep me awake for much longer than it took to write it.
-Jennifer-

I'm in my yellow Katrina Relief Volunteer T-shirt given to me by the Tammany Oaks church of Christ in LA. Seems like a lifetime ago. I was so focused... driven then. Seems like my life is just full of misdirection and distraction now. Not that my tasks are mundane... I'm just scattered... unengaged. Not complaining, just an observation. My computer continues to mess with me... I don't think I will continue blogging until I figure it out. Blueberry muffins in the oven smell done. Gotta run.

I was looking at my calendar for this month and next. It just dawned on me... I may be going to visit my tribe in Canada next month! YAY! And... WHOAH! Am I ready? Can I possibly prepare my kids for it? My sweet husband? (He only found out that Indians still existed when we were dating!) My reservation - the one for the Montreal Lake Cree Nation, is the ghetto of most reservations that I have visited. Derek and I lived on the Navajo Reservation for six years... but it was quite plush compared to the one I came from. What an eye opener it will be for my family! What a difference they will see between where I came from and where they are. It might even explain a few things to my sweet, sweet husband. To me.

So, I 've been reading John and Staci Eldridge's book: Captivating. And, it has been! Wow... last night I read the 2nd chapter that described in beautiful detail how God created woman to be the zenith of his creation! What a revelation to know that I am not an after-thought, a tag-along. I learned that the word ezer means more than help-meet or assistant... but rather the one he couldn't do without... the one he needs desperately! I KNEW IT! But... it doesn't puff me up with pride... rather it calms my spirit. A sense of understanding... like the completion of knowlege and direction in me. It placed light in my soul that hadn't been touched my light in soooo long. I have hope.

Hope.

Is it a luxury? Am I supposed to live without it? Keep my nose to the grindstone out of mindless duty and sheer commitment? Or... is hope a fraction of the glory that awaits me for my faithfulness. Hope isn't a luxury it is a necessity!

I do what I do with hope today. Hope's rays have touched the darkest depths of my soul. Flood me with your brilliance, Lord...

Oh... and, Lord ... put your arm around my shoulder and a hand over my mouth. For now. :)


-Jennifer-

I've just finished a pita-bread with hummus snack. Weird, but good. Really good. It was earth -friendly and organic. So it said on the plastic packaging that I threw in the trash can. Doh!!! My computer isn't letting me hit "enter" and make new paragraphs. Soitsarunonparagraph. But I think you'll get it. I have a friend who digs computers that has volunteered to come and fix it for me. In the meantime it's a test of my patience and of your attention span. Riiiight. I bought Stacie Eldridge's book "Captivating". Can't wait to get some quiet time to read it and journal in it. I need the encouragement. Lately I've been the encourager and I feel like I'm running on fumes. Don't know how many more people I can beg not to leave the church, their husband, their kids, their diet, their trainer, their friends... know what I mean? Why does everyone want to quit? Is it the post-new-year's-resolution time of year that brings such clarity of thought? Or is it late-January-winter's-gone-on-long-enough depression sinking in? Fortunately I've had my head out of the sand and I've been able to be there. Hope when my day comes that it will be reciprocal. My coffee shoppe rocked. Hosted lots of folks. New folks and old ones. Had the ol' campfire roaring. Blankets. All the treats. (None of which I sampled, thank you very much!) There was an antagonist... "Debbie Downer" (There's one in every church, isn't there?). But... that's just Satan throwing his fiery darts and I've been working on my bo-staff skills. Sweeeeet! My daughter stapled her thumb yesterday. I was on the computer, and I heard a "Oooooooooh!" followed by a "Aaaaaaah!"... I rushed out to see my 10 year old daughter holding up her thumb and crying loudly. Turns out she was attempting to staple the elastic back to the paddle-ball, and tried to open the stapler with her hand, accidentally placing her thumb on the staple side while pressing (and thus releasing) a fresh staple. The staple was red, so I was confused at first sight. It looked like a cut. But, when I realized it was a staple, I calmly pulled it out. (Both brothers were there to witness the blood squirt - "Cooooool!" - yet, still concerned.) We washed it and applied pressure... and "ta-da"! Middle child had bragging rights that night at Parent's Night Out. "Guess what I did today?" I heard her ask a few kids last night. Boys were fascinated, girls were sympathetic. Interesting reactions. I've been trying to re-claim my house. It seems like it hasn't really been mine in about 7 months. Now that I'm at home again... full time... I'm re-organising, cleaning, re-decorating, just... re-doing. Maybe I'm going through a nesting phase - who knows? ('Course the last time THAT happened... I found out I was pregnant! I should be so lucky!) Hubby has a test tomorrow. He usually is ready for these things and aces them, but like me - he has been busy ministering and putting out brush fires. I guess it's as good as an excuse as any... but I don't think he'll be satisfied with anything less than the A's he's been working so hard for. I pray that he's able to focus. He's had so much on his mind. Derek had the house looking great today. Sure, the kids helped, but I could see that it was his influence that really got it looking spiffy. Details. He's all about details. LOVE IT! Littlest one, Zion was hugging and kissing daddy g'nite, and I thanked daddy for cleaning the house... Zion (thinking I was talking to him) replied "No problem!" and skipped off to bed. Derek and I just smirked and looked at eachother. At the same moment, my oldest - the comedian - said... "uh, dad... I just slammed Zion up against the wall... Could you wipe him off?" Silly boys. Must go to bed. New book. Pizza lunch Sunday, gotta pray about Debbie Downer and Sister Holier-Than-Thou. Yes... they worship here too. Weird, eh? -Jennifer-

I know I should be blogging. So much is going on. But I'll just start where I'm at instead of trying to make up for lost blogs. Sigh. First of all... something's wrong with my computer. It won't let me hit "enter" to make a new paragraph. So, the structure of this thing is gonna drive you mad. It did me. I have coffee shoppe tonight. I'll finally paint the aprons for the volunteers. Haven't taken the time to create the mural I wanted, though. That day will come soon enough. My strong, German, massage therapist who lives upstairs is moving out today. Waaaaaaaahhhh! Sniff. Good news is... she's moving down the street from my church! Yay! Whew. This rollercoaster is gonna do me in! I'm not only into a new fitness lifestyle, my house is going on a diet. I moved from a large, LARGE, three bedroom house with four acres and a sheep and a goat and a two-car gargage to an apartment, no garage. It's been a squeeze. So... I pulled out one of my favourite books: Organising From The Inside, Out by Julie Morganstern, and another favourite: Confessions of an Organised Homemaker. Dunno who the author is. Picked up some dishpans today, labels and price tags. I'm also the queen of hosting garage sales. Gonna make some money off of this house-diet, make no mistake! Gotta go pick up the kids. Hit water-aerobics today... did a little shopping... gonna pick up some boxes from Kinko's to organise with. Have coffee shoppe tonight. Might be the only staff there, but I can hang! It's cool! My life is nuts.. pray for me! -Jennifer-

Taught my kid how to milk a cow yesterday. My bio mom called a few minutes ago and offered me $2000 CND to take a trip to Canada. Wondering if blueberries have enough fiber and anti-oxidants to make up for it's carb count.

What should I start with?

Comedian was doing dishes last night and filled a yellow kitchen glove with water. He asked me if I thought it looked like a cow. ("Well, not a COW...", I thought... but I knew what he was getting at, and I didn't know if I wanted the word "teats" in his vocabulary.) BUT... never missing a moment to teach my city-slicker kids ANYTHING about the country, I offered to teach him how to milk a cow... using the water and soap filled yellow glove. I had him hold the glove up. Explained how there were holes at the tips and that milk would come out if you squeezed from the top to the bottom... like so. I pumped the fingertips firmly from top to bottom and once I was sure he understood the technique, it was his turn. I held the glove up high, just in time for Derek to peer in from the living room. "Uh... what are you doing?" he inquired. "Teaching my son to milk a cow." I replied blandly. Puzzled and amused, he turned away, chalking it up to another Jennifer/Comedian moment.

I'll write my thoughts about the call from my bio mom when I return.

If I return. Hmmmmm?

-Jennifer-

My head is spinning. NO... not literally.

Ever know what is right... deep down inside, but doubt yourself so much... hesitate so much... that you end up looking like someone else?

Ugh.

Guess I have to explain, huh?

I am struggling with who I am. Can God really use me - just as I am? Not that I shouldn't try to become a better version of me... more like Christ... but does God use people like me? Do I fit in God's plan?

I am fly by the seat of my pants. And... I had never been apologetic about it until recently.

I had been a straight shooter... speaking what was on my mind ... until recently.

I am a creative, flighty soul... and had used it to God's glory... but now I hesitate. Second-guess. And I am paralyzed by my fear of failure... but not failure in God's eyes. Failure in THEIR eyes.

My wise husband reminded me the other day that I am supposed to compare myself to Christ... not to THEM. And he was right. I had been short-sighted.

Tonight I was ditched. It was an eight-grade moment returned upon me. Left alone, and clearly uninvited... I didn't know what to do. So... I left.

I used to be the life of the party! That's what's killing me! I used to take those kinds of people on, either by inviting myself in and making light of it... or asking what their problem was! But... tonight I wilted. Shrank away.

Have I been so far removed from God that I don't feel His presence, His reassurance? Am I so far from Him that I don't see my likeness? Does God not have a sense of humour? Was he not the life of the party? Was He not creative? Okay... so He wasn't flighty. I'll work on that.


I am struggling. I want to do what's right. But I want it to still be ME.

Know what I mean?

My mind has been set on smaller things. Not purposefully. Not intentionally. But, life's troubles have pervaded my thoughts. I have been spiritually groggy.
In the parable of the sower, Jesus tells us that some who recieve the "seed" will soon find it choked out by life's troubles, temptations and worries. "Seasoned" christians - if not aware can fin themselves in the same bind.
I have been overwhelmed at times in the past few months by life's troubles. Finances. Health. Education. Relationships. Has this worry rendered me ineffective?
Longing for something deeper, I seek outside fulfillment, not realizing that my answer lies within my responsive relationship to Christ. It's inside of me. May the Holy Spirit have two-fold power within me to wake me from my spiritual slumber! I am a heavy sleeper.
Perhaps the finances, health, education and relationships were the alarm clock, eh?
-Jennifer-

I'm sick. I'm wrapped in my new red fuzzy blanket and at my computer far too late at night. The rumbly in my tumbly is keeping me awake... and freaking my husband out.
Don't feel sorry for me, though. It was those darn sugar-free gummy bears. Oh, sure... they look harmless... I've had a run in with them before. No pun intended. Be right back...
Ugh.
So... this low carb diet has got to be done right or it will do you in. Apparently you can't wigg out on sugarfree stuff just like you couldn't pigg out on the sugar filled confectionaries. Sugar makes you fat... sugar free makes you bloated. Fat... bloated... I'd rather be bloated. Life's all about choices, right?
Weighed in and measured today. (Hence the sugar free gummy bears.) Lost a few pounds since the 1st of the year. Kewl. Wonder if I'll fit that gorgeous dress I bought come the end of May? Hm... sounds like a challenge.
Shhh... you hear that? That gurgle... that grumble? That's the sound of success! Argh.
Okay... 'nuf of the pity party.
Really... I had a good day. Ministered to a few women. Chatted with another few. Chilled with hubby and kids. Looking forward to a day of quiet tomorrow. Perhaps some art as the sun won't be out... beckoning me to bask in it's rays.
My January calendar is filling up... I just pray that it's filling with the plans that the Lord has laid out for me.
Must go to sleep.
Will write again when I feel better.

What am I, a squirrel? I'm munching on nuts and vegetables... ran out of ranch so the broccoli is unveiled.
Been keeping up with the weightloss, I'd lost 40 pounds by July, but have been off the wagon so to speak for the last 6 months and the weight is creeping back on.
I got rid of all of my "fat clothes", and I'll be darned if I'm going to buy new ones!
So... I haven't done a lick of exercise since New Year's... but I have watched my food and portions and lost 2 and 1/2 pounds. Yay. And... I actually enjoy the nuts... for now. Need some more ranch, though.
My husband runs the Parent's Night Out program at our church. The first Friday every month, parents from the community drop off their kids for $5 and can be gone for up to 5 hours. We feed the kids pizza and lemonaide, have a VBS disguised as a "fun night" followed by a G-Rated movie in the auditorium and voila! Parent's Night Out!

Breaking News! My six year old just joyously announced that he just made a fart sound with his armpit! He's been trying for weeks! Strangely enough he found a quarter in it... dunno where that came from. Armpit fairy?

Anyway... back to the Parent's Night Out. I had been volunteering as a teacher filling in when folks didn't show, and noticed that some parents would hang out for a bit before leaving and then come early and hang out before picking them up. So, I've set up a coffee shoppe. The last time we had it, I set up a fire pit outside with chairs and blankets surrounding it. Had white christmas lights in the trees and tables full of goodies, coffee, hot chocolate, chai, apple cider and much more. The ladies bring treats, and I provide the drinks and ambiance. And, wouldn't you know it? One of the families that warmed their hands at the fire with us now regularly attend services and preparing themselves for bible studies with Derek and me. God is good. And, I love chai.

So... I'm off today to find more goodies. Ran out of time to make the homemade scones and blueberry muffins... gonna have to hit Sam's Club. It'll be great once again! Oh! And... another parent called and asked to volunteer at the PNO Coffee Shoppe tonight... Sweeeet!

Gotta go check my teeth for broccoli bits and place this quarter in Zion's piggy bank.

It's madness! It's been less than 12 hours and I'm blogging again!

My husband and I shared some thoughts with eachother this morning over french toast and bacon. We discussed our "respons-ability" to change. We talked resolutions. He said that the reason many people fail at keeping resolutions is that they don't know who they are. We sometimes wrongly assume that we are a compilation of our habits... good or bad. But, we are not.
I feel like a thin, vibrant, lively person in a fat body. "It's not really me that I see in the mirror", I think regularly. But, who would know that but me?
I am organized.. really organized deep down inside. I love order and predictablity. But, most folks see me flying by the seat of my pants, winging it as I go.
I am an excellent teacher - not bragging - but I sometimes appear as though I am unprepared. Perhaps that speaks more to my procrastination habit.
So... keeping commitments to self - no matter how small - is the beginning of integrity. After we become accustomed to keeping personal commitments (ie: mind over mattress at 6:00am, having the guts to say no to fudge, hitting the sack before the lateshow, quieting critical voices inside my head, etc) then we can begin truly keeping commitments to those we are responsible for. And, from there... our character begins to develop. And the circle of influence gets just a big wider - as do our "respons-abilities".
There is so much more on this topic, but it was quite a revelation to me this morning that I am not the sum of my bad habits. Habits change. But, just as a rocket needs a tremendous amount of fuel to push itsself through the force of earth's gravity - we require accountability and encouragement to change our habits... thus changing our "respons-ability".
I have started a wellness program with a few neighbors. We'll call ourselves "The Sisterhood of Shrinking Pants"... We meet on Monday afternoons and workout together on Thursday nights.
I really need to get to doing what I am supposed to be doing. So I gotta run.
Talk atcha lata!

I've been avoiding the blog. Compelled to write, but uninspired. Know what I mean?

Christmas and New Year's have come and gone. It was wonderful the way fresh fudge is wonderful. The first bite... the excitement, the melting chocolate, the suprise in a soft crunch of walnut... When the Holiday Season approached, I was prepared. Music filled the house long before Thanksgiving. I began baking and decorating, shopping, preparing, inviting, writing.... but I was out of steam by the time Christmas rolled around. Overdosed. Overdosed on Christmas. Overdosed on fudge. If that's possible.

Ever write, delete, and rewrite? It's the deleted stuff you want to know, isn't it?

Joaquin Phoenix was in town today at Folsom Prison... Still haven't seen the movie. He creeps me out a bit. Coulda been his role in Gladiator. Loved that movie... but he gave me the jeebies.

Been playing Florence Nightingale around here. Three doses of medicine tonight to three kids, after a temperature taking and a trip to the doc's office for a physical. My munchekin took her shots like a big girl, so I wanted to treat her... but the sticker the doc offered didn't seem to suffice (it was, after all FOUR shots), and taking her out for sugar and fat laden icecream didn't seem a viable option either... so... I told my daughter we would go to the fanciest produce department in town and she could pick out any fruit she wanted. She went for it! She'd like a peach, please. The little one got one of those "sour apples" (granny smith). And, my oldest... the comedian plucked a huge pineapple and placed it in my cart... shrugged "what?".

Better go to bed.... morning will come long before i'm ready for it...