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A Praying Momma

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  I believe in the power of prayer. Over the years, I've seen God answer prayers faithfully.   Before meeting my husband, I prayed that God would bring the right person into my life. At one point, I told my mother God would need to drop the guy he had for me in my lap because I was waiting for God to move. A few days later, while attending a conference, this guy shows up late and the only place to sit was on the floor next to me. And, you guessed it, he lost his balance and fell in my lap while trying to sit on the floor. Two years later, we married. I watched God provide a place to live. As young missionaries, my husband and I felt God moving us to a mission's position in another state. The location had no place for us to live yet, and we were giving up our jobs, so we were moving with no income or place to live. We prayed that God would provide and loaded the moving truck. The day before the move a person called saying they felt like God wanted him to let us stay at a house
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It's Like a Heat Wave- The Secret Life of Hot Flashes

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  Yes, I've entered the years I've heard spoken about by many who have come before me- the perimenopausal years. This year, I turn (enter year her) years old. Actually, it's the big fifty. I can still remember my mother turning fifty. It's just hard to get my mind around the fact that I'm now my mother's age. As I turn the big 50, I also face hot flashes from down below, and I'm not talking Australia. At church, my congregation has started BYOB (bring your own blanket) just to handle the Artic cold after I've crossed paths with the thermostat. I thought I would be kind today and leave the air conditioner alone, only to leave the stage soaked with sweat. I now carry a fan with me on stage and behind the scenes. People know that I'm either channeling a Victorian mindset or suffering a hot flash. It doesn't matter what the temperature is around me. When I'm hot, it's an internal thing. It's not regulated by my environment. What if our f
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Behind the Scenes of a Pastor's Family

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  As we've finished up Pastor Appreciation Month, I wanted to say thank you to our amazing congregation. Being a pastor is hard, but a good congregation can make the pastor life worth it. Many congregations have honored pastors all over the country, but I want to give a shout out to all the pastor's families behind the scenes. They are the support team that aren't always noticed. Here's a few things that let you know you might be a pastor's family if... You might be a pastor's family if you're the first to arrive and the last to leave the church. You might be a pastor's family if you have at least one phone call during every vacation. You might be a pastor's family if you know all the good hiding places in the church. You might be a pastor's family if you can estimate exactly how many food dishes need to arrive to feed a potluck, or perform an episode of Chopped at the last minute to feed the unexpected masses. I've seen my children vacuum
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A Dog-Sized Fall, a Break, and a Fire

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  My son brought home a grand dog, Ruger. My husband and I spoil him, just like a grandbaby. My weakness is sneaking him snacks off my plate. At this point, sneaking is the wrong word. When I'm eating, he'll sit at my feet, drooling huge strings of drool and blowing spit bubbles, like Pavlov's dogs. My husband's weakness is playing laser pointer with the dog. He'll wait until it's dark outside and proceed to create a laser show Ruger cannot resist. This leads me to the point of my story and why I have a dog head- shaped bruise on my calf. My husband zoomed him around our yard a few times until I reminded him that he needed to take him to potty. I personally walked out to encourage him to do his business. I finally said I was going inside while my husband zoomed him again. I told him  to stop playing and come inside. What I didn't notice was the laser pointer following me. Guess where I'm going with this. My husband stopped the laser behind me; however, R
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The Family Dinner

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As an educator, I've noticed that our world is broken.  Something very important is missing from our society-the family dinner. As a child, I remember the family gathering around the table to eat together. We talked about our day, laughed together, and bonded. At that table, I learned manners. We learned to be polite and take turns in conversations. We learned to share the last piece of pie and pray over our meals. As my parents listened to an account of my day, I felt supported and heard. I felt the security of a stable family, even if chaos surrounded us. As life has become busy and our children's activities have us running in ten different directions, the family dinner has been replaced with a quick meal in the car. There's nothing wrong with a quick bite to eat; however, if the family never sits down together, the security of the family bond falters. Educationally, children's language skills decrease as family conversation decreases. Anxiety and behaviors increase a
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When Bad Things Happen

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  Earlier this week around Tuesday, I felt God had given me a vivid picture of what to share on the blog this week.  This morning, my husband's sermon was exactly the topic I had planned to discuss, so I think this blog is for someone out there. My husband asked the question, " Why does bad things happen to good people? " There are multiple answers to this question. If you look at the book of Job, God allowed Satan to test Job so that God received the glory. You may say that this seems harsh, but keep in mind, God protected Job from death and restored Job to even greater than before the testing. He also never left Job's side during the whole encounter. God also reminded Job that He created everything. If He could control the moon and stars in their place, He could make it work out for the good for Job. My daughter's journey to healing inspired so many to turn to God. I watched nurses crying as they heard my daughter sing God's praises. Let's move to the
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Journey to the Renaissance Fair

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  It was that time of year again. My husband and I take an annual pilgrimage to the Renaissance Fair in Kansas City. It is always a blast to dress up in costumes and walk back in time to dirt roads, jousting, turkey legs, and aristocracy. Kyle and I gathered our costumes and prepared to escape for the weekend. This time we added my youngest son along for the ride. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, other than the extremely long line to get into you ladies privy (bathroom). As the crowds crawled past the thousands, I trekked from one side of the dusty park to the other, desperately looking for ladies' accommodations. After an hour and a half and at least two miles of walking covered, I found success. When we left the grounds, I was relieved to enter bathroom accommodations that didn't involve a marathon and a Black Friday kind of line, that is until we visited a bathroom on the way home. Once we were within a couple of hours from home, we realized the sodas had taken effect. We pu
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