Life In Another Valley

That Invention Called The Telephone...

2011-09-14T11:52:00.000-07:00

On days like today I think alot about telephones, for the simple reason I'm answering a ringing phone with regularity (some days are just busier than others). I think about my love - hate relationship with telephones. I think about the comments people have made to me regarding my voicemail messages on their phones, or my phone voice. I also think of the more unique moments I've had while talking on the phone with someone.

So, I've been told by a number of my friends that my voicemail messages are amusing to them, mainly due to their length. That's alright, I'll laugh with my friends over my long-winded messages, but if you expect me to shorten them don't hold your breathe (not even for the duration of my messages - you might pass out).

Jokingly I tell interested parties that I leave long messages to compensate for my Dad's notoriously short messages. A usual voice message from my Dad goes something like the, "call me." I just like to elaborate on why they should call me, and if there is any backstory to that event they should probably know that to. Actually if I leave a long enough message it might even make talking to the individual unnecessary (I don't always need replies). I'm just happy to provide amusingly long messages for my friends...whatever brings a smile to their faces.

While my Dad tried to teach me by example the art of leaving a short voicemail message (or not leave one at all). My Mom taught me the art of phone voice. There were times in my childhood when my Mom would be voicing her displeasure with us children (rightly so - we didn't always do what we should have) and then the phone would ring. It never ceased to amaze me that my Mom's stern voice could instantaneously mellow into the most pleasant "Hello."

I'd stand there in the room listening to her speak to other person on the phone amazed that this was the same woman who had just been speaking to me. I knew it was the same woman because though her voice had changed her eyes still told me that we weren't finished yet.

I'm beyond thankful for that lesson in phone voice Mom, it's carried me in good stead on many occassions. In my current office you never know what heated conversation or hilariously funny joke is being told, when the phone rings my "phone voice" comes out and it's like any other day.

During the recent Viriginia earthquake I answered the phone as my desk, and the building began shaking. I managed to make it through the standard greeting, and even answer my caller's first question before I calmly told him I would need to call him back we were having an earthquake. After our shake down I called back our customer and explained what had happened and when I felt the movement. He laughed and said you'd never be able to tell the ground was moving beneath me from the tone of my voice.

Even more recently at work I managed to keep a level tone of voice as a creepy looking spider crawled over my arm and across my desk. Yes, I might have jerked my arm back and frantically moved away from the offensive eight-legged creature, but my tone of voice as I answered the customer's questions never showed my level of distress.

The first time I distinctly remember using my phone voice during a crisis situation was in high school. I was talking on the phone with a friend of mine, and distractedly running my finger along the wood window sill in my room (don't ask me why - just something to do I guess). Suddenly a large splinter came loose and lodged itself beneath my thumb nail all the way to the nail base. Talk about nerve endings screaming at you. In midst of my hurt and shock I remember calmly interrupting my friend to say I needed to go and would see them the next day at school. The next school day I came in sporting a gauze bandaged thumb from where they had to remove my entire nail to get at the splinter.

Earthquakes don't phase me, creepy spiders don't phase me, and large splinters don't phase. What usually gets me on the phone is sleepyness. Those phone calls you get that catch you in the middle of a nap, an early bedtime, or an even earlier morning wake up. I just never seem to come awake quick enough to make much sense to the other person on the line.

Obviously my abrubt awakening is not well hidden from my callers, because more often than not I received the comment, "Did I wake you?"

When I lived in Utah I received the comment "Did I wake you" plenty of times. Family and Friends back in Virginia would often forget about the two hour time difference. I remember several times when my own family who are often ready for the start of their day before 7:00 a.m. would then call me at 7:00 a.m. (I mean who isn't ready to receive calls by that hour). Of course their 7:00 a.m. was my 5:00 a.m. in Utah, which lead to some interesting early morning, barely coherent conversations :)

All this to say, I have a love - hate relationship with the telephone. Hope you enjoyed my random ramblings on the subject!

The Creamy Goodness...

2011-06-22T19:59:00.000-07:00

...of eating an SB&J.

For those of you who suffer from peanut allergens like myself, you might be familiar with SB&J's. The initials for SoyNut Butter and Jelly :)

I've been familiar with SoyNut Butter for sometime having tried it once at a friend's home in Utah. The SoyNut Butter I had there was separated and had to be mixed well to be eaten. It really didn't remind me of peanut butter, and wasn't a good substitution to my memories of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (as I child I could eat peanut butter - my allergy is adult onset).

I didn't realize how special those memories of Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches were until I recently came across a very good brand of SoyNut Butter. When I opened the jar it was like looking at a jar of creamy peanut butter, it was like smelling peanut butter and that first taste was so much like all my memories of peanut butter. Of course I immediately pulled out some bread and jelly and went to work making my master creation of the SB&J. That first taste combination of bread, sweet and creamy transported me back to my youth with meals at home, picnics in the park, hiking with friends and all sorts of wonderful outings.

I was able to enjoy all those memories in one simple little sandwich, and I could still breathe properly at the end of the meal :)

If you're wondering there are additional benefits to replacing your peanut butter with soynut butter. SoyNut Butter has less calories and fat per serving, and more fiber and protein than peanut butter...what a winning combination!

Crochet Time...

2011-02-28T18:33:00.000-08:00

Most recently I tried out a new crochet pattern for baby booties. I had never attempted making baby booties before, mostly because I had never come across a pattern I liked. All the patterns seemed so outdated and "cutsie". I wanted to work on something a little more modern and unisex. I finally came across this pattern for double-straped baby booties and knew I found what I was looking for.

They really didn't take that long to make, and I enjoyed the relaxation of time spent crocheting. When it was all said and done though, I knew I just had to get them out of my home. The last thing this single girl needs to see are these absolutely adorable baby booties, just makes you want to have a baby to put them on.

I ended up taking the baby booties with me to the Sustainable Food, Farming and Faith conference this past weekend in Pennsylvania. The conference was offering a barter fair as part of the event and I ended up bartering these booties for some delicious varieties of potatoes.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof...

2010-12-13T16:17:00.000-08:00

Last evening I was comfortably ensconced in my bed, under a pile of blankets reading a good book. It had been raining all day, and it was particularly cold, so it seemed like a good evening to relax under some blankets. It was so peaceful and calm, the perfect end to a great weekend. Suddenly, there was a loud noise above my head coming from the roof. In all the time I've lived in my home I've only heard that same noise once, and that was when my Dad had gone up to my roof to do some repairs. It was the sound of someone walking around on my roof.

I live in the quiet countryside, and have never felt threatened in my home. The thought of intruders to my home doesn't even cross my mind. The sound of someone walking around on my roof though sent fear spiraling through me. I felt instantly vulnerable, and certainly not in a position to protect myself. I leaped from bed as I heard the person moving around on the roof, hoping that it was just one of my friends come to play a prank on me.

My roommate was in the kitchen, and as I passed through with the coat I hastily grabbed, told her of the noise (which she hadn't heard) and how I was about to go outside and investigate. As cliche as this sounds I even gave her the line, "If I'm not back in a short while get help." Maybe that wasn't so cliche as it was smart to have a plan :)

Outside I didn't see any vehicles that shouldn't be there, and after walking around the entire house didn't see any persons out of place. With my home being built so low to the ground with angled roof space I had a fairly good view of most of the roof and didn't see any looming figures walking around.

I came back inside, out of the cold wet rain, and told my roommate of my findings, absolutely NOTHING. I was describing to her the noise I had heard, when suddenly we both heard it over our heads. She immediately wanted to check on her cats (I think she had an inkling at this time where the source of the noise might be coming from).

When she walked outside she was greeted by one of her two cats. The other cat knowing it's Momma's voice decided to come and peek over the side of the roof where it had been walking around only moments before. That silly cat had managed to climb up the old utility pole next to my bedroom and jump onto the roof, which in turned scared a couple years off my life. After some coaxing from my roommate she managed to get him in position where she was able to manhandle him off the roof.

My roommate has reminded me that there is an old fable about being "as light-footed as a cat." This particular cat though has the footfalls of a grown man. We're just hoping the disgruntled look he gave my roommate just prior to coming down is proof that he's learned his lesson and won't be making a trip back to my roof.

Just the day before this incident I had been outdoors taking pictures of these two cats. I'll let you decide which one looks mischievous enough to climb on top of a roof.

Though I might giving away the secret I will tell you the names of my roommate's two cats. This first photo is of Lor, short for Ailuro, which means Cat.

This second photo is of Pho, short for Phobia, which means Fear. So, together the cat's names are AiluroPhobia, Fear of Cats.

When they first came to live with us, I told one of my co-workers their new names (and she's like me - we're not cat people). My co-worker's response was quick and sure, "I would have called them Home and Less."

I think about my co-worker's response on days when certain cats jump on my roof, or try to sneak into our house when I'm rushing out the door. Other than those brief moments Lor and Pho and I get along just fine. They really are beautiful animals for being cats :)

Award Winning Rooster

2010-12-11T20:45:00.000-08:00

I happen to live next door to an award winning rooster. Yes, as of this year my neighbor's rooster took 1st place at the Rockingham County Fair. This afternoon I was over in my neighbor's yard enjoying a photo session and was able to get some great shots of the rooster.

I learned from my neighbor that the two roosters in the background of this photo had only minutes to live after the photo was taken. I didn't stick around to continue taking photos of what came next. Though I'm sure my neighbors are enjoying a good meal this evening, fried chicken or maybe chicken noodle soup.

Working Toward A Green Thumb

2010-12-06T17:08:00.000-08:00

Last winter it snowed, then snowed some more, and then it snowed even more. I was ridiculously tired of snow by the end of winter. It was days, weeks, and months of looking at the color white blanketing the ground, and if it wasn't white it was brown. By the end of winter I CRAVED the color green!!

This winter I hope to keep my green cravings at bay by incorporating more houseplants into my home. I actually started the process of adopting indoor plants last year, but my collection has enlarged this past year. In recent years I've wanted houseplants, but moved around too much to make having one (or several) practical. I guess I'm finally starting to settle down because I'm now into a plant frenzy. Not only do I want to enlarge my indoor plants I'm also working on my outdoor gardens as well.

For someone who has a notoriously brown thumb I'm doing fairly well with my plants. I'm enjoying reading about each one and finding out what makes them happy. In turn they make me happy by greening up my home and providing such beautiful blooms and color.

This plant is the first one I brought home last year. It came to me through the Virginia Mennonite Relief sale. I decided last year at the Relief Sale to purchase a plant, and that in the years to come I would purchase a plant. Each year I would have my Relief Sale plant, and when they became much larger I would take a start from the plant and donate it to the Relief Sale. Just an enjoyable way to continue the cycle, and benefit many others.

This particular plant is a Monkey Plant. In November it begins to bloom these beautiful pink blossoms for a couple months (atleast mine does).

The Monkey Plant is such an interesting plant. When I first bought it I didn't know anything about it (not even if it would like the light my home receives). I just really liked the name, coloring and feel of the plant, and couldn't resist the impulse to buy it over a plant I knew more about.

This next photo is a close up of the Monkey Plant and it's beautiful blooms. You might also note the interesting coloring of the plant. The leaves are green with white ribbing, and underneath they have a deeper, richer purple coloring. It's a beautiful effect!

I've been so happy with my Monkey Plant. I've even been able to separate it once over the year I've had it, and give a start to my Mom. My Mom's Monkey Plant has done so well she was able to make a start for my friend Maurita...and the cycle of giving continues.

The most recent plant to come home with me I received from my Aunt Karen over Thanksgiving. I was commenting about her houseplants, and asked about getting a start of one of her philodendrons. She in turned gave me the entire plant (she had two there).

I've been so blessed by her generosity; the plant sits lovingly in my living room, and adds beauty to the space.

These of course are just a small viewing of the plants I've adopted. I have several more throughout my home. Some of my favorites are just the practical ones, like the herbs for my kitchen or the aloe in case I have a burn or cut. It's amazing how much God has given us in His creation, all the beauty and practicality to meet our needs.

Thanksgiving Thankfulness

2010-11-26T20:34:00.000-08:00

With a heart full of gratitude I was able to enjoy the richest of blessings this Thanksgiving. My day was spent with so many loved ones; my friends and family.

My immediate family has a tradition of attending the restaurant named Traditions on Thanksgiving day for an early lunch. It's always nice to spend that family time with each other, especially now that my brother Brent is living in North Carolina, and we don't see each other as much. This particular year we decided to arrive extra early and stand in line outside to be one of the first seated when the doors opened. That's right, my family who doesn't care a twig about standing in long lines on Black Friday for retail deals will gladly stand in long lines for first seating at a restaurant (we've got our priorities).

The afternoon was spent getting some much needed rest!!

Then it was on to another dinner, this one was being held at my Uncle Fred and Aunt Karen's home, for the Heatwole Family. It's not uncommon for any one of my relatives to bring a guest along to our holiday dinners, and this year I was excited to have my good friend Maurita and her brother Andy join us. Actually, it was at the Heatwole Thanksgiving meal that I met my friend Chitra three years ago, she had been a guest of my Aunt Glennys (they had classes together at JMU).

Maurita, a talented musician, found my Uncle Fred's upright bass (not that he was really hiding it). Isn't she such a natural?

When everyone else was pulling out their cameras to take posed pictures of each other at the dinner (normal behavior for a holiday meal with the Heatwoles), I was taking pictures of my Aunt Karen's centerpieces. Aren't these variegated roses gorgeous?

I had to take a close up on the roses so you can really see the beauty of the color.

The Lord really has blessed me with so much, a loving family, wonderful friends, and the constant beauty of His creation. So much to praise Him for this Thanksgiving.

Dinner Party Anyone?

2010-11-23T19:24:00.000-08:00

No, my living room does not usually have a long table running through the middle of the room. Nor do my couches contain so many different pillows. This special rearrangement was for a dinner party my roommate Stephanie and I held at our home back the middle of October.

The dinner was a farewell party for my dear friend Chitra, who was moving (has since moved) to Seattle to join her soon to be husband. It was definitely one of those bittersweet occasions. For as much enjoyment I had from planning the special event, to the work that went into that day's preparations, and the wonderful fellowship I experienced during our dinner; there was the reminder that this was one the last times I would see Chitra in quite some time.

We did have a wonderful time that evening. So, many terrific memories, and friendships were formed (I had invited quite a number of my friends that didn't know each other).

In honor of Chitra I did something I've never done before...prepared an entire Indian meal (her home before coming to Virginia to study was near Mumbai, India). I have to say, though I spent a good deal of time prepping for this meal, and worked diligently all through the day, I did not finish the entire menu I had planned (still had plenty to eat). Just so you're aware, Indian cuisine takes longer to cook than you realize. I had previously made the items I had planned for our menu, what I had not done is to prepare them together as a coordinated meal. There's something about coordinating several dishes at once that inevitably slows down the process.

The only non-traditional Indian food item, was the cake pictured above. I call the cake my "love cake", and this is only the second time I've ever made one. The first love cake was for my friend Laura who was also moving out of the area. It's a chocolate cake (because nothing says I LOVE YOU like chocolate), and lettered around the cake is the word "love" in several languages. Sorry this picture is so blurry, hopefully you can still make out a couple of the words. With this particular "love cake" my artistically talented roommate Stephanie did the iced lettering, I just prepared the iced canvas for her...I think it was a great team effort!!

Because the time is drawing near for me to get some well needed rest, I'm going to bring this entry to a close. Hopefully I will have time tomorrow to continue this entry with the story of how I met my friend Chitra, and our friendship of the last several years.

His Great Love

2010-11-22T19:54:00.000-08:00

If you haven't already, why don't you take a moment and listen to the beautifully written songs of JJ Heller I have posted below. I pass them along to you as a blessing that has been passed along to me in these last few weeks. Their reminder of God's love and grace for me has been a balm to my bruised heart. If you're feeling somewhat battered and bruised today, listen and be reminded of a God who is there to hold you in His Hands.

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

Lamentations 3:22-23

J.J. Heller - Your Hands - Haiti Earthquake

2010-11-22T17:36:00.000-08:00

JJ Heller - What Love Really Means

2010-11-22T17:19:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again...

2010-11-21T19:53:00.000-08:00

Last year, during the summer months, I made an amazing discovery!! At the time I was living at Sandal House, which is located around downtown Harrisonburg, and making the most of city life. Now if you know me you'll understand that my appreciation of "city life" is limited to my ability to reach more destinations by walking. Aside from enjoying walking wherever I need to go, I'm not necessarily thrilled by all the other aspects of "city life", i.e. crowded, noisy, dirty, etc.

All that aside, back to my amazing discovery. One of the places I enjoyed walking to was the Farmers Market. I loved to see and try the different produce, it was like having a little bit of farmland in the middle of the city. Plus, it made a great excursion to take teens too; with the baby strollers, very family friendly. When the teens came with me it was always a learning experience for them, they had so many questions about the different produce they were seeing. For some of them if the vegetable didn't come in a can they weren't all that interested in it (sometime I'll write the blog about all the pureed veggies I snuck in their food...but you'll have to promise not to tell them it's still a secret ;))

I also enjoyed going to the market to see an old friend of mine. He had gotten a summer job working for one of the vendors, and since I hadn't seen him in years, prior to his moving to the area for the summer it was great to see him each week.

I've really sidetracked from my story here, which is to share with you all my amazing discovery. What you've all waited for....I discovered GOAT CHEESE at the farmers market!! This wasn't just any ol' goat cheese, it was/is the most yummy, creamy, and smooth goat cheese you'll ever eat. I tried the sample offered from the vendor that first Saturday visit early in the summer and I was addicted. Now, a year and a half later I'm still addicted to the cheese. My favorite flavor is the Southwestern Ranch, but a close second is the Garlic and Chives. The hard cheeses are delicious as well, my favorite in that category is the Horseradish Cheddar.

These cheeses are made by new friend, Pam Green, of Green Haven Farm Cheeses. The Lord blessed this woman with a gift for caring for His goats (I'm sure in this case just as important as His sheep :)), and she's wisely used her talents to bring happiness to others through cheese :)

I was sad last year with the end of summer, because Pam no longer came to the market with her cheeses. At the time though I was in the process of moving myself out of Sandal House and back into my home in Bridgewater, with so much activity going on it was more like a fleeting thought of regret for the cheese I was going to miss over the winter months.

This year I made trips to Harrisonburg at least twice a month on Saturdays to enjoy the market, and visit with friends (it's quite the social venue - especially with many of my friends living near downtown Harrisonburg). I'd be lying if I said my trips to the market were entirely socially motivated, or a desire to see and try different produce, it was plainly my opportunity to pick up more cheese.

I went to the market this last Saturday, and even though I knew it was late in the season, I had hoped to see Pam one more time with her delicious cheese. Unfortunately, it's that time of year again, Pam is taking a break from the market for the winter months, and I'm left waiting until next Spring for a whole new season of cheese.

Even without the cheese, the trip to the market wasn't a waste. I had a wonderful time with my friend Stephanie as we talked about different produce and how we would cook/bake it. Stephanie is super talented in the kitchen, and is always trying new things, where I'm more likely to just stick with the status quo.

I did end up buying some beautiful butternut squash from my friend Radell, owner of Season's Bounty. With a little sugar and spice (and everything nice - in this case milk and butter), I turned some butternut squash into two pies for church fellowship meal today. Enjoy the photos!!

Do I even remember my login password?

2010-11-15T21:09:00.000-08:00

Even after four months of inactivity I can still remember my login password...thankfully :)

And what a busy four months it has been, full of all sorts of changes. I've started a new job, had a roommate move in, and in general have been working at sprucing up my home. And those events only scratch the surface of all I've been up too :)

Not much time to write about it all now, but be warned I'm back and in the mood to blog :) More to come in the next few days, weeks, and months.

The Last Two Months

2010-07-02T13:35:00.001-07:00

It has been brought to my attention recently that I haven't posted on my blog in the last two months. This has been disappointing to all my avid readers out there (the whole half dozen of you) that waited on baited breathe to hear about my new adventures/insights.

It's not that I haven't had anything to blog about in the last two months; it's just that the juiciest bits were not open to the public and therefore my life was not quite the open book it normally is (which makes blogging rather difficult). In the last week a few details have been ironed out and I now feel more at liberty to share what has been taking place in my life.

First, I got a new job!! I'll be working with Select Airparts in Weyers Cave beginning July 14^th. The application and interview process was a bit extensive for this position, so I appreciate all the support and prayers I received from different co-workers and friends.

This week has also brought a new change to my living arrangements, I now have a roommate. My good friend Stephanie Y. moved into the house with me, and we're currently trying to find space for both her and my belongings. I'm looking forward to this new adventure of friendship and house sharing.

The not so hush-hush aspects of the last two months, include time and transition spent at church. At Weaver's Mennonite we were excited to welcome our new lead pastor, Phil Kanagy. I've really enjoyed getting to know Phil and his wife Janine better; they have been such a breath of fresh air to our church family. I've REALLY enjoyed Phil's sermons on Sunday mornings and absolutely hate when my schedule keeps me from attending (that's only happened a time or two – and I was absolutely miserable about missing out).

I've also been excited about some conversations that have begun in our church family about Young Adult ministries. Several of the young adults, like myself, have begun planning for times of worship, mentorship, biblestudy, fellowship, etc. This has been a challenge in our church family before, and I'm excited to see where God is leading us in the coming months.

So between changes in my career, home life, and church fellowship, my life has felt quite like a shaken snow globe here of late. In this last week it has become more like a snow globe that is settling it's snowy pieces after being shaken. At this time I'm appreciating the beauty of watching all the pieces fall into place.

Again, thanks to all of you who have had me in your prayers and thoughts over the last several months!!

A Case of Mistaken Identity

2010-04-17T17:44:00.000-07:00

The other evening, while at home, I thought to enjoy a nice cold beverage. I was thinking of the root beer I had in my fridge, and how it would compliment some salty popcorn. The root beer was one of those glass bottles with the twist lid, similar to many beer bottles on the market. I had been saving the root beer for a quiet evening at home, which for me is a special occasion.

I opened my fridge, grabbed the root beer, twisted the cap, and took a nice long swallow. YUCK!! Unfortunately for me it wasn’t the root beer I had grabbed, but an actual beer. One that a friend of mine had left at my place months ago, and I had been saving to cook with (which is about all I do with beer – never have liked the taste).

On my trip to the fridge I hadn’t bothered turning on the kitchen light, trusting my memory to guide me in the darkness. I had grabbed a bottle that had the same shape and feel as my root beer, and the cap twisted off like I knew it would. In that first taste I expected the sweet coldness of a good root beer. What I got was the bitter, sour taste of a cold dark beer, which for me is quite stomach turning.

I wasn’t happy about the mix up until I went back to fridge and found the actual root beer. The sweet taste of the beverage helped to wash away the previously sour-beer taste from my mouth. I then went back to my freezer and found some brats, which I cooked with the beer (gives the brats a good flavor – without all the alcohol).

As I stood by the stove cooking my brats, I kept thinking how this experience was much like one I had over ten years ago. Back then it was another case of mistaken identity, and had far greater significance.

Many of you know this part of my story, the time in my life where a friend of mine shared with me his faith in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When I first heard that name it held no significance for me whatsoever. In my eighteen years I had never knowingly heard mention of that church name, and I thought he was referencing a Christian denomination that I hadn’t heard of before. I assumed Christian, because my friend was definitely a Christian to my understanding; he was (and still is) a loving, kind person, who knew his Bible inside and out, and was actively involved in church. His image to me was a reflection of all that I had seen growing up in my own church.

By all outward appearances my friend, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints which he presented to me, looked like the “root beer” I was so use to. What I got instead was a sour taste from a non-root beer.

Just now I hesitated to write that last comment, it sounded unfair to my friend. I always want to be cautious when talking about my Latter-day Saint friends, especially since I know them to be loving and sincere people. They sincerely understand and believe the teachings of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, and I relate to their sincerity. Unfortunately, for my Latter-day Saint friends they’ve not experienced the real sweetness of “root beer”, namely Jesus Christ, and aren’t able to compare it to the sour taste of what they do have. My heart bleeds for them as they unknowingly continue to accept the sub-standard.

Getting back to my story, some have asked me through the years why it was that I, knowing how sweet the “root beer” tasted could have been fooled by the imitation. My answer, it wasn’t until I drank deeply that I knew the taste, and therefore didn’t know the difference. Like I said earlier the outward appearance was very similar, not just similar almost identical.

The lifestyle, religious culture, vocabulary…it was all so like my own Christian tradition. It wasn’t until discussions on the very nature of God were broached that I realized the substance inside held the difference. God is that very substance, and His Word speaks to us about His nature and ‘sweetness’.

Never again do I want to replace Christ with an imitation. To know and understand the difference between the true nature of God and the imitations of this world, I study His Word in the Bible.

Going back to my analogy (for you know I love analogies), there are two methods I now use so as not to be found drinking something I should not. First, I turn on the light, no more groping in the dark, assuming I have the right drink because it feels right. Those assumptions and feelings may lead to terrible mistakes. Secondly, I’m a label reader. It’s good to read, and make sure I understand what it is I’m drinking, that it’s not something I wouldn’t desire to ingest.

When we find our “root beer” in Christ, hold tight and enjoy the sweetness!

Coincidence or....

2010-04-06T10:44:00.000-07:00

Godwinks

You're most likely curious as to what I'm talking about in "godwinks". Here's some definitions before I go into a longer explanation.

Coincidence: A sequence of events that although accidental seems to have been planned or arranged. - American Heritage Dictionary

Wink: To give a signal or express a message. - American Heritage Dictionary

Godwink: A personal signal or message directly from a higher power, usually, but not always in the form of a coincidence. - SQuire Rushnell - the author of "When God Winks"

Last Saturday after getting off from work I had some time I wanted to use to see if I could visit with one of my girls from Sandal House (not to confuse you...I'm no longer at Sandal House...but like to stay in touch with the girls when I can). I found out she was at work at the Mercy House Thrift Store and decided to drop in and say hi to her at work. I also did what I always do when I'm at a thrift store and that was to look at the books offered.

My eye caught on the title of a book called, "When God Winks". I was intrigued because I have this thing about winking that started one summer while working at Highland Retreat Camp. It was the summer that the director asked the male and female staff to refrain from hugging while camp was in session, so that campers wouldn't get false impressions. In place of being able to give reassurance or encouragement in the form of hugs, I began to wink. A wink meant, "God loves you and you're special."

What I learned about winking that summer was that in order to be blessed by a wink you need to be paying attention. If you didn't see the wink, it had still happened, but the blessing of reassurance and encouragement wasn't the same. Also, there are times when the person needing the wink will see it, but those around (i.e. campers) will often miss the communication or if they did see it it might not have the same significance to them.

After my summer of winking I needed to create a personal email address (I had never had one before).  I created Jenwinker and that has been my screenname ever since. It's a reminder to me that I can choose to be a blessing of reassurance and encouragement to others.

The author of "When God Winks," has taken the same principal I used that summer at camp and expounded the subject. SQuire Rushnell created a name (godwinks) for those moments in life when we had a coincidence take place that we contribute to God, but want to call it something other than coincidence. We can now call it a godwink.

Personally, I couldn't put this book down. I even believe it was a godwink that I stumbled across this book to begin with. Weeks ago when I wrote my post entitled, Inspired, I received a lot of comments both verbal and written about the story of my grandfather's picture being in the home of a South African I met.  While writing the post I mentioned that the occurance had spoken eloquently to me of God's love...and now I have a word for that story other than coincidence...it's a godwink.

Another godwink connected with the book and the post I wrote, took place two weeks ago in Sunday School class. A member of my Sunday School class mentioned the story I wrote in my blog and that led another participant to share a quote I had never heard before and hadn't stopped thinking about since.  "Coincidence is just God working anonymously."

I loved that quote and wasn't at all surprised that it was stated in the last chapter of the book, "When God Winks."  These are just testimonies of God's love for us, that He works out the littlest details, we just need to open to seeing Him at work (or we might miss those wonderful winks).

Recently I had a godwink moment that was special to me. I was cleaning out my desk, not something I do often, and stumbled across a crumbled piece of paper that had gotten stuck in the back of a drawer. The note was one I wrote to myself reminding me that the next time I made chocolate roses I needed to share some with two small children I knew from church. I had made the promise to them and then wrote the note knowing if I didn't I would forget.

That note had been written late last summer, then lost, and the promise forgotten. I called their Mom, my friend Davene and asked if I could treat them to some chocolate cake, chocolate roses and a lesson in how to make chocolate roses for the boys. My schedule is kind of tight these days, and I know Davene and her family keep busy too. After looking at our schedules the only date that worked for us both was a week away on a Thursday. We made our plans and then Davene confessed to me that the date was actually her birthday ,and she hadn't been wanting to have to make her own birthday cake. Wow...what a godwink! Our Creator God, even cares about birthday cakes.

What a loving God we serve!!

If You Could Meet...

2010-03-30T14:07:00.000-07:00

Someone asked me today who I would choose to meet (living person) if I could pick someone. It was implied that that someone should be famous.

With only a moment pause I replied, Nelson Mandela. The famous political leader of South Africa, who helped to lead his country out of apartheid, and did so with peace and reconciliation. I believe his' (and the South African citizen's) example is worthy of notice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGMqqNUz2UY

Maple Festival

2010-03-22T15:39:00.000-07:00

Lucky me, this year I attended the Highland County Maple Festival twice!! I went the first weekend with some friends of mine on a cold wet Sunday, and was cheered by the warmth of the company I kept. The second weekend I was acting tour guide for a couple from my church who had never attended before. The weather was decidedly better the second weekend, but the crowds (and lines for everything) wasn't as enjoyable.

The following are a collection of photos from both weekends:

To most this first will seem completely random, but to those of you who are familiar with the McDowell Pancake Breakfast you'll understand that the collection of people hanging around the tents are actually in line for breakfast (line going out the door). At the time this photo was taken the line was into the parking lot, which meant about a 2.5 hour wait for breakfast...those were some committed individuals. When I joined the line it was out the door, but not nearly so long, our wait was a little under 2 hours. This photo was from the second weekend...the first weekend I attended the Maple Festival the rainy weather meant that there was no line and we were in and out within an hour.

I took this photo from Jack Mountain entering Monterey, Virginia. The traffic into Monterey was so heavy that it was an almost 30 minute hold up to drive into the town. I had plenty of time to get this photo and a few others from the car as we crawled by the overlook.

This maple tree is estimated to be over 200 years old and is tapped at the Rexrode Sugar Orchard in Highland County. What an amazingly beatiful tree...and what a wonderful God to create such beauty!!

The Sugar Tree Country Store is located in McDowell, Virginia and is a must visit at the Maple Festival, and I'm not just saying that because I'm related to the owners :) I enjoyed visiting with some of my cousins at the store during my visit the second weekend. The first weekend I enjoyed visiting with them at church on Sunday morning at McDowell Mennonite.

Had my first taste of Maple Ice Cream at the Sugar Tree Store...YUMMO!!

The Highland Museum was offering Civil War reenactment in the front yard. I took these next photos on the first weekend. Ironically, the pacifist Mennonites were holding church service in the building next door :)

This small log cabin is a part of my family history. At one time it was Vance Country Store, where my Mom's family had a store they ran particularly during the Maple Festival. It hasn't been open since I was a small child, but I do remember going there as some of my earliest memories of the Maple Festival.

The following is a photo taken at Rexrode's Sugar Camp, where they were boiling down sugar water over an open fire to make into syrup. Going to the sugar camps and learning (or in my case re-learning again and again) how maple syrup is made is definitely a wonderful tradition of the festival.

Springing into Spring

2010-03-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

May I just say that the beautiful, sunny weather we are experiencing here in the Shenandoah Valley has done much to lift my soul this week. If I had the time (meaning if I didn't have to work for a living) I would be spending all my time outdoors and soaking in the sunshine.

For me the day starts with the sun peaking through my window around 7 a.m. If the sun doesn't wake me the birds that have suddenly made an experience, chrip me into wakefullness. These days the sunlight continues to around 7:30 p.m., which also makes me smile. I just adore long days!! I love being able to sit on front porch rocking chair with a glass of tea, and watch the sunset over the horizon.

It will only get better as my garden takes on new life, and the nearby field is full of tall cornstalks. Love living in the country :)

From my Heart to Yours...

2010-03-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

I first heard of Bridges while living in Salt Lake City. Bridges was a seminar put on locally by Salt Lake Theological Seminary; that equipped Christians with understanding regarding Mormons, and a loving approach to sharing the gospel message with them.

In the years since I moved back to Virginia, Bridges seminars have continued in Utah and beyond, though they are now sponsored by the Western Institute for Intercultural Studies.

Recently, I've begun sharing Bridges with local congregations in Virginia, and I'm excited to share this ministry with other churches in the weeks, months and years to come.

Though this will sound biased (and I'm definitely biased), Bridges is a wonderful learning experience. If you've ever had a desire to share the love of Christ with your Latter-day Saint friends, neighbors, and co-workers, but have felt ill-equipped to do so, then Bridges is for you.

It is a day long seminar (about 6-7 hours with breaks included), that combines video segements, workbook exercises, group discussion, and of course with me faciliating their are some stories from my own personal experience. The material covered in Bridges is segmented in five models:

Legacy The founding and perseverance of the LDS church through its history to its present prosperity.

Tapestry of Theology Understanding the basics of LDS vocabulary, doctrine and teachings.

The Journey Out Former Mormons share their experiences in LDS culture and the ways in which God drew them to experience His grace.

Bridging the Gap The Do’s and Dont’s of successful evangelism. How to make the Good News sound like “good” news to Mormons.

Community of Grace How to surround former Mormons with a loving church community that meets their individual and family needs.

At present I'm working to present this information to local congregations, pastors, sunday school classes, small groups, etc. If you have a desire to experience Bridges for yourself, please feel free to contact.

**Oh, and don't let money be an issue for you or your congregation. I'm freely giving my time to present Bridges and there is only a small fee ($10 plus some shipping and handling) for the workbooks used in Bridges.

Inspired

2010-03-10T13:21:00.000-08:00

I do realize that it has been several months since I last blogged, and during my hiatus I’ve contemplated writing on multiple occasions. Each time I would log onto my account and sit staring at the computer screen, feeling neither inspired nor motivated to write. It was almost depressing how little I cared, and no amount of pressure could make the words come.

Then as God is often able to do, I received encouragement today from an unlikely source. Through a series of connected websites I stumbled across a semi-stranger’s (sister to an acquaintance of mine) blog. I’ve never met this girl, but her writing has inspired this latest entry.

What profound thought did she share that encouraged me so? It’s so simple, yet so amazing, she wrote about God’s love for me. Her words were a gentle reminder of all that God gives us.

As I read her stories of God’s love my thoughts drifted to stories in my own life where God expressed His love for me in amazing ways. Any attempt to put to paper ALL these thoughts reminded me of the familiar hymn:

The Love of God

Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

The imagery in that last verse has always stood out to me, it’s vivid and incomprehensible. It’s how I felt this afternoon as I began contemplating how I might share in writing the love God so often gives to me. Though I won’t be able to do it justice; I, like my new friend, will at least attempt by sharing a few stories.

God’s love inspires my awe…

In May of 2004, I found myself traveling with several other peers in Lesotho and South Africa as part of our college cross cultural program. I could share from a wealth of experiences from that trip alone how God showed His love to us, but one day in particular stands out from the others. We had arrived in the outskirts of Cape Town, and were preparing for our last host family stays. Late in the day, many of the other students had been assigned host families; yet there was a small group who waited for hosts arriving late, and I was among them.

We waited in the home of a South African man (and his family) who had at one time studied at our university in Virginia. Almost six years before he had taken classes at the seminary, and was now back in his home country leading a local congregation. As the wait for hosts to arrive extended he offered us dinner, and I offered to help him prepare in the kitchen. I was placed in charge of getting drinks from the refrigerator. I still remember that moment of absolute shock, when looking among the pictures posted on their refrigerator I found my Granddad Heatwole starring back at me.

It took me several seconds to even register what it was I was actually seeing. My mind couldn’t process the absolutely incredible happenstance, that my Granddad, a simple dairy farmer, from a Conservative Mennonite church, who had lived in rural Virginia (and had been deceased for four years prior at that time) was in a picture hanging from a refrigerator in Cape Town, South Africa. In fact, this was all so farfetched that I didn’t believe it at first.

At first I thought I hadn’t recognized Granddad, and it was someone else. No, after a closer look it was definitely my Granddad. Then I thought maybe someone was playing a prank on me, and I turned around to where our host was preparing pizzas and asked him where he had gotten the photo. He began telling me of James Heatwole, a man he met while living in Virginia, and how Mr. Heatwole, as he called him, had been a welcoming person to him. He had met Mr. Heatwole while on a drive one morning. My host had gone for a scenic drive early one morning to see some farm land, but had gotten lost, until he came across a man sitting in his truck by the side of the road. They talked briefly and Mr. Heatwole did more than just give him directions back, he just had him follow his truck back to the university. From that time forward, they met on several occasions.

My host’s story might have seemed odd to someone else, but the tidbits made complete sense to me and my memories of Granddad. In Granddad’s later years, he and Grandma moved from their home near our farm to another home in town near Eastern Mennonite University. Each morning (with the exception of Sunday), he would drive out to the farm, and often in the early hours he would park his truck off the side of the road and enjoy the quiet of the new day. This must be where my host met him that day, near the very farm I grew up on. And that day, instead of giving him directions back to the university he went home early so this man from South Africa could follow him and not lose his way again.

That day in South Africa I was able to tell my dinner host that I was Mr. Heatwole’s granddaughter and that he had passed on to his’ heavenly home. How AMAZING is our God? He orchestrates even the smallest details for His people.

That same day I was placed with a host family. My host family had arrived later in the day due to activities they had been involved with as youth leaders for a local congregation. They explained to me and my other classmate that the local Baptist Youth Groups were meeting for a weekend convention. Even that evening they had a meeting planned and as part of the host family we would be attending.

My classmate and I didn’t know what to expect that evening, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what we encountered. We were brought into this large gathering place (almost like a remodeled gym). Immediately the speaker, who had been previously speaking Afrikaans, changed over to English for the “American Sisters”. Jokingly, I thought it was pretty obvious who the ‘american sisters’ were, considering that everyone turned to look at the only two white people in the room.

The preaching that evening was lively and intense, and kept me from falling asleep after what had already been a long day. What woke me up completely was the moment the speaker called out that he’d like to hear the testimonies of the ‘american sisters’. SAY WHAT?!? My classmate and I were brought forth to the front of the gathering, and took the stage. We were easily standing before a couple thousand (we were told there were others in rooms throughout the building). My classmate was prompted to the pulpit and microphone first, she wrapped up her “testimony” within seconds, briefly telling everyone her name, state she was born in and where we attended university. I could tell from the speaker’s face he was hoping for something more than an introduction, so I spoke on...you guessed it…God’s Love.

God wasn’t finished with this day yet, after the service the speaker came to us and introduced himself. He explained that he had a nephew who lived and worked in Virginia and had married a local woman there. Something about what he was sharing struck me as familiar, and after a few questions back and forth, we soon realized that his nephew’s wife was actually a high school classmate and neighbor of mine.

That day I stood amazed at the work of our God. The details that went into those two encounters are unfathomable. Our God loves us enough to work out the smallest details.

God’s love prepares a way…

In the Spring of 2005, I was preparing for a move across country to Utah. I was leaving Virginia with a strong sense of God’s calling and faith to keep me along the way, plus my few belongings packed into my four-door car. In my mid-twenties, this was a relocation of a magnitude I had never experienced before, and I had moments of uncertainty.

I was certain that God was leading me to Utah, but the details of the move, where I would be living, working and attending church were fuzzy at best. In the weeks prior to my move I solicited the support of friends and family through their prayers. I remember one evening in particular when I asked my biblestudy group to be in prayer that God would lead me to a local congregation in Utah to fellowship with.

That evening one of my friends mentioned that though there weren’t any Mennonite churches in Utah, they had experience attending a Christian and Missionary Alliance congregation. He told me I should do a search and see if there were any CMA churches in the Salt Lake City area. One quick Google search later, and I had turned up a, as in singular, CMA church in Salt Lake City.

Thus, Discovery Christian Community church was on the top of my churches to visit list. As it turned out I really didn’t need a list, I found a home at Discovery almost immediately. During my years at Discovery the body of believers I fellowshipped with became dear family to me, in a time of my life where my immediate family lived over two thousand miles away.

Now, even years after I relocated back to Virginia I thank God for His wonderful provision for me during my time in Utah. Most special among all that He provided was the fellowship of believers at Discovery Christian Community. In God’s encompassing love for me He prepared the way…

God’s love is a refuge during the storm…

I, like everyone else I know, am not immune to difficulty. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve struggled with hardships, grief, and disappointment. Yet, through all life’s valleys I am able to depend on God’s presence walking with me.

Most recently, I’ve been dealing with disappointment over broken relationships. Through the brokenness I’ve seen God bringing about new relationships and healing. I’m learning how powerful the love of God truly is, that He is able to bring joy from sorrow and healing from pain.

If you, like I, have been inspired by God’s love recently or in the past I encourage you to share it with someone. You might want to write your own blog :)

A Christmas Story...

2009-12-30T14:59:00.000-08:00

This story takes place the evening the eastern snowstorm that came to the Shenadoah Valley, which if you're not able to recall the date was the 18th of this month.

I was scheduled to work that evening at New York Flying Pizza in Bridgewater, and was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to attend the Heatwole Family Christmas Dinner. I enjoy the people I meet through my work, so I wasn't completely disheartened.

On this particular evening not many customers were braving the snow covered roads to come and enjoy a pizza, so my employers were making plans to close early. Even as plans were being made to close the doors early I knew it wouldn't be early enough for me to join the rest of my family for dinner.

As I thought these thoughts, the owers of the restuarant came to me to say that they didn't need as many waitresses as they had and as soon as the customers at the bar had finished their drinks I could go home. It was 6:15 p.m. when this announcement was made.

One of the eight gentlemen sitting at the bar overheard this conversation, and commented that it was nice I would be able to get home early and off the roads. Having a 4-wheel drive vehicle this wasn't a concern to me, and I told him I would be trying to make the family Christmas dinner, even if I was late.

He kindly asked what time the dinner was to be and I replied, at 6:30 p.m. At this he looked to all the other men sitting at the bar and they all smiled and simultaneously picked up their beers, chugged the remains of their drinks and brought the empty mugs down with a satisfying thud onto the countertop.

I stood there amazed at their generousity as they retrieved their wallets and began settling up accounts, with hefty tips being left me as a Christmas gift. As each man was leaving we hugged and I wished them a Merry Christmas. I left work at 6:25 p.m. as they were pulling out of the parking lot, and I made it to the family Christmas dinner only 15 minutes late.

As I shared this story with one of my Aunts that evening at the Christmas dinner she replied, "it's a Christmas story." Sure, it involves beer chugging (not the most attractive form of ingesting a beverage), but the heart and thoughtfulness of the gesture truly was a symbol of the season :)

Must Blog About Something

2009-12-16T12:50:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time I found blogging rather theraputic. Throughout the day I would say to myself, "Now I should blog about that." It could funny little bits of stuff, or just the ordinary run of the mill happenings. Whatever it was, it was enjoyable to write about it.

Recently I've found myself in a stage of life where I want to spend less time on the internet, and it seems one of the first things to go was my blogging. For some my lack of communication has been disappointting, I'm quite sorry. For others still I think having one less blog to read is a relief (you have spoken up to me directly regarding your feelings, but I know you are out there).

I've begun to think I need to strike a middle ground, where I try to blog atleast once a month maybe more (though I don't imagine I'll get carried away).

I attribute my new ambition to the movie Julie/Julia which I saw this weekend. It wasn't necessarily the blogging part of the movie I liked so much, it's the creativity of the blog I LOVED!! How awesome to have taken such a task as working through Julia Child's cookbook and turned it into a year long blog.

Though I simply don't have the time for such a task, I do appreciate the creativity, commitment and wonderful cooking that went into that project. And what a delightful movie to come from it :)

Maybe one of these days I'll stumble across an idea I feel as passionately about and turn it into a regular blog, or maybe I won't :)

The Timing of Things

2009-11-06T12:38:00.000-08:00

There have been two events in the last week that have made me think about TIME, and how I view giving my time to God. Thought I'd take a moment or two of my time and write the events out for you, and some of my thoughts. You can decide if this is something that resonates with you, or maybe you'd even have something you would like to add.

My thoughts about time originated at a wedding I attended recently. The wedding was for my second cousin Julie and her now husband David (who I am also related too - I won't get into that, but will say it's a mennonite thing). Julie and David are part of the same Mennonite Conference (Southeastern Conference) that my grandparent Heatwoles were part of (the church of my Dad's youth). It is typical of that more conservative mennonite conference to include a sermon as part of the wedding service. The sermon for Julie and David's wedding was surprisingly VERY short. I had been expecting something considerably longer (atleast 20-30 minutes in length), what we got was at most 8-10 minutes.

I wasn't the only one surprised by the brevity of this particular sermon, and whispered comments were shared by those in seats surrounding me. That is when I first noticed the clock that hung above the pulpit facing the congregation. Without even realizing it I (and I believe maybe most of the congregation) had been timing the service with the use of this clock. The thought hit me that I had been VERY aware of the time during the whole of the service and how that had been unconcentiously distracting.

I had these same thoughts when a week later I was back in the same pew of the same church where my Grandmother's funeral was being held. This time the sermon was considerably longer, and I have to honestly admit I was frustrated by that and the clock that hung over the pulpit. Though I knew how important my Grandmother's faith was to her, I wasn't interested in hearing a sermon from Romans, so the time dragged on. In the effort of full disclosure I was more interested in remembering stories of my grandmother, a woman of faith. I wanted to remember with others how her life had been a reflection of God's Word.

In the last week since the funeral I've asked myself a couple of times why I had been so frustrated by that clock staring me in the face. A couple of days ago the answer struck me very plainly, I simply wasn't use to following time in church. In every church I've ever attended the clock is also in the back of the sanctuary, and your back is to it (uncless you are behind the pulpit then you get to face it). And since I don't like wearing watches, I simply don't follow the time during a service. I don't keep a measure of how long we've been singing, praying or preaching, I simply give my heart over to the worship and I follow the spirit.

I even questioned why we keep a clock in the church period, if most of the congregation doesn't even see it on a given Sunday. I laughed to myself when it hit me that the clock was obviously positioned at the back of the church for a purpose, the person who needs it the most is able to view it there. For all those long-winded preachers :) Or maybe it would be better to place the clock at the front of the church where the pastor would not be able to see or be distracted by its presence? Or just maybe we should do away with clocks in church all together?

Should we be concerned with time when we gather together as the body in worship and praise? Or maybe I'm just overthinking this line of thought?

An October Synopsis

2009-10-26T13:44:00.000-07:00

I am hardly able to believe that the month of October is almost here and gone, and I haven't even bothered to blog. To make up for lost time I intend to write a month in review blog for you now, so sit back and enjoy.

The month began on a frantic note as I worked hard to prepare my home for a temporary roommate. I still hadn't unpacked all my belongings from moving, and had been using the second bedroom as a storage room. Having someone move in with me was the catalyst I needed to finish my unpacking and organzing. That doesn't mean I've finished all my home projects, but I am getting closer to being done. Some of the bigger jobs I need to finish include outdoor gardening, painting the back porch, and finishing the shoemolding. One of these days :)

My temporary roommate came and went within two weeks time, but it was nice having some time to get to know her a little better. She is the girlfriend to an old friend/cousin of mine, so having a chance to get to know someone he considers important in his life was nice.

In other news this month I traveled with some of my good friends down to Floyd County, VA to the Floyd Country Store and their Friday Night Jamboree. I've been there before, and like the first outing I had a wonderful time. I enjoyed the great bluegrass music, the flatfoot dancing and just meeting the regulars. Two of the regulars stood out to me the most. First was Kay, she's a 70 something year old lady who is fiesty as can be. I first met her six months ago when I went to the jamboree, and when I saw her again this time she remembered me.

The first time I met Kay I walked away with a memorable quote (now you have to say this with a pretty heavy southern accent to get it right), "Honey, I've seen Elvis". She was talking to us about her age at that time, and without giving us a direct age, this was her way of saying she was older than we thought she was. This past visit she made us all laugh when she stopped to share with my pregnant friend that she had no excuse not to be out there dancing. As Kay stated, "I learned to do the twist when I was pregnant." Again, coming from this adorable southern woman I couldn't help but wear a large smile at her comments.

The second regular I met was an older man named Rosco. If you wanted a steorotype I could give you one in sweet ol' Rosco. He was white haired with a long white beard, wearing old coveralls and a weaved hat with feathers. When he smiled, which he did often, half his teeth were missing. He was loveable, friendly sort and a hoot to dance with. He helped me to have a very fun time while at the country store.

Recently, I've had some more trying times, but even through those events I know God has been close providing His comfort. Last Thursday was particularly hard for me. The day started out alright, but certain announcements brought disappointment. First, in the middle of the afternoon I received an email saying that a job I had particularly wanted had hired someone else with more experience. Less that two hours later a friend of mine told me some equally hurtful news. Then as I was leaving her home my Dad called me to say my Grandmother had just passed away, though it had been expected it was still another hit.

As I said earlier God was with me through this all, so the next day when I was dealing with all the shocks of yesterday I had to laugh when the final straw came. Since God knows my sense of humor I wouldn't be surprised that he had specially arranged that a manure spreader happended to be spreading alongside the road as I came around the corner. It was all perfectly timed so that my car got spread with you guessed it...shit. I usually don't have a crude sense of humor, but the first thing that popped into my mind was, "I've officially been shit upon." I couldn't stop laughing, and was on the phone with my friend at the time, and she shared in my humor.

The funeral for my Grandma was a good time spent with my family, and remembering Grandma's many special gifts. All in all it was a good time of rememberance of a very wonderful woman.

This was the month in a nutshell and I still have one more week to go.

A Course in Tractor Identification

2009-10-02T10:45:00.000-07:00

In the fairly close knit community where I live it's not uncommon (though not necessarily frequent) to recognize vehicles belonging to acquaintances either on the road in a parking lot. So, more than likely while I'm out and about I'm not just aware of my driving, but also on recognizing people I may know.

The other day I pulled into the parking lot of a local restaurant in town. I parked next to a red cab-less tractor and immediately knew it belonged to one of my two Old Order Mennonite neighbors. When I walked inside I wasn't surprised to see Gerald sitting a table eating his lunch. I joined him briefly to visit, but then went on my way.

This week as I've been thinking about what happened (recognizing a tractor and knowing who it belonged too) and the whole incident has struck me as funny. It seems to me that there are probably very few places where you need to be able to identify tractors as a means of knowing who might be dining in a restaurant. I've lived in several cities where the idea would be laughable, yet here in my hometown the thought is somewhat normal. Just goes to say, what some find as normal others will most likely not :)

Humming As I Work...

2009-09-21T11:43:00.000-07:00

This morning I was humming a little tune as I worked on constructing my outdoor patio. The words to the song went a little something like this...

The foolish man built his house upon the sand.
The foolish man built his house upon the sand.
The foolish man built his house upon the sand.
and the rains came a tumbling down!

The rains came down and the flood came up.
The rains came down and the flood came up.
The rains came down and the flood came up.
and the house on the sand went whoosh!

The wise man built his house upon the rock.
The wise man built his house upon the rock.
This wise man built his house upon the rock.
and the rains came a tumbling down!

The rains came down and the flood came up.
The rains came down and the flood came up.
The rains came down and the flood came up.
and the house on the rock stood firm!

Maybe your recognize this little ditty from your childhood days. Well, this morning as I was humming it my mind transposed a few words. My tune went a little like this...

The foolish girl built her patio upon the sand.
The foolish girl built her patio upon the sand.
The foolish girl built her patio upon the sand.
and the rains came a tumbling down.

The rains came down and the patio was destroyed.
The rains came down and the patio was destroyed.
The rains came down and the patio was destroyed.
and all the girl's work was for naught!

Here's hoping my patio stands firm against the rain! Next time I'll think my project through a little bit more before I get underway.

You're Going Down...

2009-09-18T09:03:00.000-07:00

If you happened to live with me, which you don't because I live alone, the last two nights you would have gotten quite a show from me. I had had it up to here (I'm pointing way above my head) with the infernal creatures known as crickets. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried to keep them outdoors here of late they've found little ways to make it inside.

I love them beautiful sound of crickets chirping when it's outdoors (adds to the "country" atmosphere), but the shrilly sound amplified indoors is too much, especially at night when I'm tired and sleep is most at mind.

So, the last two nights I went on a cricket hunting expedition in my home, each night around 1-2 a.m. In the last two nights I've managed to dispatch atleast ten crickets, and I believe that as of this morning only two more remain in my house. They are both in serious hiding, but I have their number and it's only a matter of time.

I'm hoping with the oncoming cooler weather that the crickets will start to disappear naturally, until then here's what you'll be hearing at my home in the wee hours of the morning, "You're Going Down Crickey Crickey Crickey...just keep on chirping I'll find ya!"

Natural Beauty

2009-09-08T12:51:00.000-07:00

This summer I've spent some time behind my camera, and here are a few of the photos I've managed to come away with.

This was taken as the sunset through the veritable jungle that my yard had become. You'd be happy to know that I've found some time to mow since I took this picture.

Beautiful sunset horizon over the corn fields. Since I'm surrounded by cornfields, they're usually in my photo composition.

More cornfields, sunsets and a hint of the moon.

This last photo is my favorite of the summer. Though the flowers are giving way to Fall weather the colors are incredibly vibrant and beautiful.

Playing in the Rain

2009-08-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

If you happened to be driving by Airport Road today around 2 p.m. then you might have witnessed a peculiar sight. Some crazy woman was standing outside her house with her arms and face lifted to the sky, and laughing while the rain came down in sheets. For those of you who aren't aware I live on Airport Road, and on occassion I've been called "crazy".

The spontaneous action to run outside into the storm gripped me when I first heard the rain on the metal roof. It reminded me of so many other storms during my childhood, and I LOVE a good rain storm. I also flashed back to several early memories I have of standing out in those storms fully clothed and feeling the clean rain soak me through.

As I stood inside my home watching the rain through the windows and being reminded of all those times I use to play outside during the rainstorm the only thought in mind was, "why not now?" Just because I'm an "adult" now doesn't mean I have to give up the pleasure of playing the rain. Sure, I certainly have plenty of obligations that don't leave me much time to soak myself in a good rain storm, but for those times I don't, why not!

So, just like that I walked out my front door and into the pouring rain. The rain was cool, the air smelled cleaned, and the grass was squishy between my toes, it was absolutely WONDERFUL! I promised myself this afternoon to not let it go so long again until my next walk in the rain.

Cravings...

2009-08-17T13:02:00.000-07:00

I was having a craving today for Rice Krispies Treats. I simply can't remember the last rice krispy treat I've had, and I don't mean the store bought ones, I'm talking homemade. So, while thinking of rice krispy treats I stumbled upon a record of the world's largest rice krispy treat.

Check this out:

World's Largest Rice Krispies Treat

size - 12 ft. long, 6 ft. wide, 2 ft. deep, 2,480 lbs.

ingredients - 818 lbs. Rice Krispies, 1,466 lbs. marshmallows, 217 lbs. butter

where and when made - Iowa State University, April 2001

All I have to say, "That's A LOT of Butter!!"

Country Scenery - Sunsets

2009-08-12T10:37:00.001-07:00

As I sit out on my porch looking over the growing corn and watching the sunset over the distant mountains, this is what I see. Isn't our Lord AMAZING!!

In Honor Of...

2009-08-12T10:11:00.000-07:00

....my friend Jake. Today is Jake Tillett's Birthday! On the count of three let's all say, "Happy Birthday Jake."

One...Two...Three.... "HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAKE!!"

After all that, I hope Jake is in the habit of reading my blog :)

I certainly read his, and I highly recommend you check out his latest post. Jake is quite gifted with words and I'm certain you'll find him amusing and enjoyable to read, even if you don't know him. If you ever get the chance, I also recommend getting to know him :)

I met Jake one Sunday morning shortly after he moved to Salt Lake City. He came visiting Discovery Christian Community Church, where I had been attending for the last year. After church services, as was many in the church's habit, we went out for lunch. Jake wasn't familiar with the area yet, and I offered him a ride to the restaurant. That was the start to our friendship, though it really got going when Jake kindly helped me paint the church coffee house (I always like people who help me paint).

For the next year and a half before I left Utah for Virginia I spent time with Jake (and several other of my "Utah Guys"...Tommy, Fou, and Jake). Lot of wonderful memories there! Then about a year and a half after I left Utah, Jake also left Utah for Mali, Africa.

That's where you can find him now, working in a clinic as a nurse. So, today I wish him a Happy Birthday and continued blessing as he serves the Lord so far from home. Philippians 1:6

Country Life

2009-08-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

I'm back living in Bridgewater, in a cozy house on Airport Road. I love it there, the scenery (at this time cornfields almost surround me), my neighbors, and of course the peace and quiet. After living the last thirteen months in busy downtown Harrisonburg, the peace and quiet is most certainly welcome.

It's a welcome change, yet it hasn't necessarily been an easy change. I went from being responsible for a home that included myself and up to six others, to just having to take care of myself. I find that it isn't the responsibility that I miss (I'm enjoying the freedom from added responsibility) it's being alone that's harder to handle. Don't get me wrong I definitely need time to myself, just not too much time. I miss having people around me, the noises and fellowship they bring. As it is now, when I'm home by myself (which is most of the time) I can't get over how quiet it is and how lonely.

Another change is the lack of ready entertainment. In Harrisonburg if I wanted to entertain myself I could easily walk or bike to a number of different attractions; parks, libraries, restaurants, etc. Also, Sandal House was equipped with internet and cable television. Now I would never have thought that I came to depend on the internet or the television, but I'm finding that doing without either is harder than I thought it would be. I really dislike having become so accostume to both the internet and cable, that I'm determined to live without them for awhile and then make a decision if I'd like them later.

I'm already finding that both the internet and cable had become distractions for me. I was using time with both of those items that I've begun to use in more healthy ways. First, I'm reading more (actually I always read alot, but now it's even more). I'm in the kitchen more. I'm practicing the piano more. I'm outdoors more. I just have more time. Those are the advantages. The disadvantages are having to schedule my internet time at either the library or my parents, which could mean not even being able to check my email on a given day (that's difficult when I'm hoping to hear back from different possible employers). I also enjoyed watching the Food Network while I worked in the kitchen :) I've replaced that habit with listening to Praise and Worship music while I work.

So far that is life in the country. I'm enjoying being back on Airport Road, but still have some adjustments to make.

It's not really good-bye...

2009-07-31T06:34:00.000-07:00

This morning I stood by the kitchen door and said good-bye to one of my teens as she left for school (summer school). We had just hugged and I was watching her walk away, knowing that by the time she got home this afternoon I would be gone from Sandal House. I began to cry as she walked on further and her son turned towards me and waved good-bye.

I know this isn't the last time I'm going to be seeing them, or some of the other teens I've known over the last year, so I didn't think leaving would be so emotional. Yet, today as I finish my packing, cleaning and other odds and ends I find myself breaking into tears.

Cleaning the kitchen I remembered the meals I fixed there with different girls. Picking up toys from the living room floor I remembered romping around with different children, and their delightful giggles. Upstairs I packed clothes that had belonged to a teen who left suddenly (not even taking all her belongings) and I remembered different challenges I faced with some pretty lost teens. This whole house is filled with memories, the good and the bad.

As I prepare to leave Sandal House I lift up praise to God for bringing me here in this last year. I can't say it's always been easy, but I do thank Him for how the teens and their children have helped to shape my life. I thank Him for the opportunity to be His instrument in helping these same teens and their children in a time of need.

I pray that Sandal House continues to be a home of peace and sanctuary for young girls facing one of life's most important challenges, parenthood.

That's Awkward

2009-07-29T11:07:00.000-07:00

Merriam-Webster dictionary in part defines the word Awkward as:

a: lacking social grace and assurance b: causing embarrassment : not easy to handle or deal with : requiring great skill, ingenuity, or care

I'm able to define the word awkward in the following story:

Last evening I took one of the Sandal House teens and her toddler son out to the farm where I grew up. The two men that live there now allow me to come out there whenever I like, and the children at Sandal House love the animals. I usually plan my visits for the evening milking, so that the teens and children are able to see the cows in one place and being milked. They also are able to visit with the two men that live there.

These two guys are in their mid-twenties and are Old-Order Mennonite (I've most likely referred to them in earlier posts). Being that they are about my age I enjoy relating with them, and they make great neighbors and friends. Over time our friendship has grown and we often share jokes and laughter. It's a good thing we're comfortable with each other now, it makes the events of last evening just a tad less awkward.

It all started in the milking parlor where Gerald was finishing milking the last cows for the evening. I had introduced him to the teen with me and her son, and we were leaving the parlor to go visit the baby calves next. As the outer door shut on the milking parlor with the teen, her son, and me on the outside, and Gerald on the inside, the teen speaks to me over the noise of the milking.

"Wow, he's CUTE! You all would make a great couple."

She said this loud enough to be heard over the noise of the milking, what she didn't observe was that even though the milking parlor has doors, it's also a building with large open spaces on the side walls that are kept opened in the summer time heat. As soon as the words were out of her mouth I knew that if I turned around I would find Gerald behind me smiling, having heard everyone of her comments.

For a long two seconds I stood there wondering what approach I should take. I could walk on, pretending that I didn't think he had heard her comments. I could turn around myself and acknowledge him and the comments. And lastly, I could turn around myself and the teen, and all of us could acknowledge what was said, and who heard it.

Feeling bold for the moment I took the teen by the arm and turned her around with me to wave at Gerald standing there with a silly smile on his face. My teen turned instantly embarrassed, and Gerald and I saved the move and the joke by smiling at one another, which she caught onto. If she hadn't noticed that we found it funny too by the smiles we were wearing, she was definitely reassured by Gerald's, "Thank You."

That's just another awkward moment that was diverted by "great skill, ingenuity, and care" (as Merriam-Webster would say).

A Long Weekend

2009-07-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

It all began last Friday when I spent my day in preparations for a weekend spent at the beach. Out of all the errands that I ran that day two in particular stand out to me. First, I had to make sure I had a full tank of gas, without much thought I stopped at the nearest gas station. I purchased gas for $2.15 a gallon, my only thought, "gas prices just keep going down...awesome."

After the purchase of a full tank of gas I went further down the road and saw another store that had gas priced at $2.35 a gallon. That's unusual considering these two places usually compete pretty closely with one another on price. For the rest of the day I noticed other gas station's prices and nothing came close to $2.15. It wasn't until I was driving home that I passed the station where I had bought my gas earlier in the day and noticed the price had gone up to $2.35 a gallon. Found out later that they had made a mistake earlier in the day, and for about a 1/2 hour their customers got gas at a reduced price on $2.15. Lucky Me!

I wasn't so lucky when I went to get my haircut. For awhile now I've been getting my haircut by, Nancy, who is a terrific hairdresser. It was at my 10 year highschool reunion recently when I learned one of my old classmates is working as a hairdresser in Bridgewater, and I thought I'd go to her in support of her work (I'm really not that picky - it's just hair it grows back). When I dropped by where she works, I learned that she had to suddenly leave early for the day and wouldn't be back to Monday, they asked if I'd like to rechedule. I was really set on getting my hair cut before I left for the beach, so I took an opening to get my hair cut by another woman at the salon. The hair cut was going well and I was quite pleased until she tackled my bangs lastly. I told her exactly how I liked them cut, and exactly how I DID NOT want them cut. Let's just say in the end I'm now sporting the perfect example of how I DON'T like having my bangs cut.

When I got back out to my car and looked at my bangs the phrase that kept coming to mind was "Bowl Cut". I look like one of those little amish boys and their bowl cut bangs. I knew it was bad when one of my teens at Sandal House also used the phrase bowl cut.

As for damage control on my hairstyle that won't be possible for another week maybe two. I need to give my bangs some time to grow, and then I'm off to see Nancy for the fix. I think I've learned my lesson here, from now on only Nancy gets to cut my hair. Sorry to my old classmate, but I'm just not ready to make the jump to a new hairdresser at this time.

And all that was just Friday, I still had a very busy Saturday and Sunday to survive. We awoke early on Saturday morning to start the drive down to Virginia Beach. By early I mean to say, I took a page out of my Dad's book and left at 4 a.m. The traffic was non-existent and we arrived at the beach by 8 a.m.

We spent an exhausting morning by the ocean. In the past I could enjoy the beach because it meant playing or laying out in God's beautiful creation. On this particular morning I spent time chasing around a 16 month old little boy, who only wanted to chase seagulls, run into the ocean, and eat sand. After 3 and 1/2 hours of keeping up with those activities we were ready to call it quits and head to the Virginia Beach Strip for some lunch. Of course that meant we must first lug all our beach equipment back to the car. You know how much stuff you need at the beach when you have kids? Too MUCH!!

After a couple of hours of eating lunch and shopping it was time to get back in the car and retrace our steps to Williamsburg, where I had booked us a hotel for the night. Once in Williamsburg we headed to the pool for some more swimming and then went to the room for naps. Unfortunately for the adults present the little 16 month old had slept in the car and wasn't desiring a nap at the time. I had just commented on how he seemed to be in everything in our room, when he tripped over his own two little feet and fell. He smacked his head on the table between the two double beds and began to cry. His Mom picked him up as if nothing had happened and I ran to get a towel because I had seen the blood. Sure enough this little boy had a bloody, gapping wound on his forehead, which lucky for us didn't bleed too much. As soon as I saw the cut I knew it would need stitches.

Since God knows our needs before we even do ourselves, He had prepared a way for us to get to the hospital in the form of my Aunt who lives in Williamsburg. I called her for directions to the hospital and she responded with I'll be right over. Aunt Jan was wonderful, giving time out of her evening to spend with us at the hospital (which was a maze to find from our hotel and would have made me crazy trying to find on my own).

The toddler's mom wasn't to keen on the idea of bloody wound being stitched up, fearing she would faint I stepped in as the assistant to restrain the child. The Mom stepped into the hallway and I held down a papposed screaming hysterical child as he received four stitches. Lucky for me the doctor had to position me so that I looked directly into the wound, yeah for my strong stomach.

I know that the stitches didn't hurt this little boy, because as soon as it was over and he was unrestrained and in his mother's arms he was smiling and laughing in a matter of moments. It's amazing to me the difference a mother's arms can make for a child.

From that point it was back to the hotel, ordering some dinner and eating in bed. As soon as my meal was finished I was asleep, for it had been a long day.

The plan for Sunday morning was to sleep in and have brunch with my Aunt before checking out Colonial Williamsburg. Sleeping in with a toddler in the room meant we were awake by 8 a.m. Brunch was a hurried affair as we tried to keep a toddler pacified, and Colonial Williamsburg ended up being a shortened version because of the excessive heat. It was almost a relief to call the vacation to an end and head back home. Ahhhh HOME and my own bed!! That's where I spent Sunday night and what a pleasant night sleep it was :) That was the end of my long weekend.

Seriously Committed...or in need of committing

2009-07-19T20:43:00.001-07:00

As I write this blog it's approaching the midnight hour, and I'm standing in the musty smelling basement of Sandal House. There's two perfectly good reasons for each of those behaviors. First, I just can't seem to fall asleep this evening, even though I know I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow and I need plenty of rest. Secondly, the Sandal House computer is on the fritz and isn't picking up the wireless connection, so I'm bound to my old laptop and the internet cable connected to the router in the basement.

Normally I would have forgone my need for internet access and awaited a chance to fix the problem on the computer upstairs; but for some reason, not being able to sleep only fueled my addiction to the internet and my desire to check my email and blog. As I mentioned in my post heading I'm either seriously committed to this blog, or in need of committing for my addiction :) I'll let you all decide.

Changing the subject, since I find myself on my old computer I thought I'd take the time to post some photos I have stored here. These will be oldies but goodies, and fair warning these are photos I picked at random.

I'll start us off with a cake I made about a year ago. It combines two of my favorite desserts, chocolate cake and chocolate chip cookies (note the emphasis on chocolate).

This photo is of my dear sweet cousin Maddie, it was taken about three years ago. She was all tuckered out from her visit to the farm and was taking a nap in my bed. I couldn't help myself and took a picture of her and she lied there peaceful and calm.

This next picture brings back fond memories. I was given this rose several years ago on Valentines Day by my friend Danielle. It was her birthday and she gifted me with this sweet gesture. On a day that is often devoted to couples it was nice to remembered as a single.

These crazy guys are friends of mine from Utah. If you're wondering what they're up to I'll just say, "Hear no, Do no, See no, Speak no Evil." I wonder who put them up to that for the camera?

My friend and old roommate, Olivia and I, hanging out with the church group. I was thinking of Olivia this evening because she's planning a trip to Virginia to come visit me this Fall.

Another photo from my time in Utah. This was taken at the Utah State Fair about two years ago. The guy on the far left is now in Mali, Africa and the guy on the far right was baptized today. I'm so happy for both of them, and this picture just reminds me of what great friends they are to me.

This last picture is very special to me. It's the last photo I ever took of my cousin Tiffany before she was killed in a car accident over two years ago. The photo was taken several months before as our family gathered to celebrate Christmas and I was in town from Utah. That was the last evening we had together and I really cherish that memory. She was such a beautiful young woman in her outward and inner self.

Now that I've traveled down memory lane it's probably time to try and find some rest. Remember I've got a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.

More Camping Photos...

2009-07-17T13:19:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post this week; last weekend I spent time out in Highland County camping with two of my good friends. After spending a wet night out in the woods Saturday we awoke Sunday morning and prepared for church. We found that breaking down camping and dressing up for church didn't take us that long. With some extra time on our hands we stopped by the farmstead that belonged to my Great Uncle Lohr Vance (and now belongs to my Uncle Robin and Aunt Nancy) and took some photos.

My friends Kyle and Brendan clean up nice :)

This log structure sits at the end of the lane facing the main road. It use to be the Vance Country Store many years ago. I have memories there as a small child sitting by the fireplace eating candy from the store.

After church we headed home by way of a detour. Here's some of the scenery we stopped to look at on the way.

It's All About The Blog

2009-07-16T04:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon I was innocently taking out my trash (standing on my front porch) when a frightening occurrence happened, I felt something touch my ankle!!

I looked down thinking it was just the trash bag I was tying only to encounter a opossum standing between my feet. In the moment of recognition I nearly jumped three feet high and let out a piercing scream. After scrambling away from the opossum as fast as I could my brain began function again in this order:

1. That opossum is a baby! Where's it's Momma? Is the Momma standing behind me yet, or anywhere else that's too close to me?

2. Frantically searched the rest of the porch for Momma Opossum on the chance that they're protective of their young and she was about to attack me.

3. I just screamed quite loudly with all of my neighbors on route 42 to hear, good thing nobody seemed to be around to witness that embarrassing moment.

4. I just screamed quite loudly with all of my neighbors on route 42 to hear and nobody seemed to have heard me, that's not comforting if something really bad ever happens.

5. I left the front door open a crack I hope no other opossums have gone into the house.

6. This whole incident is like that video on YouTube my friend posted today.

7. I need to get my camera and get a picture of this opossum for my blog!!

All these thoughts crowded my in mind in a matter of moments. So, after securing the scene (making sure only one opossum was present) I went back in the house for my camera and proceeded to get these photos.

What sticks out to me the most about this whole experience is that no matter how hard my heart might be jumping in fright my mind is never far from thinking about my blog. Still haven't decided if this is a good thing :)

My Dad

2009-07-15T05:28:00.000-07:00

Last year, shortly after selling the farm, my Dad joined the Bridgewater Rescue Squad as a driver. This was something he had been wanting to do for quite a while. These days most of Dad's stories come from the other volunteers he works with, or other random tidbits from his time at the squad.

Shortly before my Dad's birthday I concocted an excuse to come visit him at the squad while he was on duty. I wanted pictures of him to make an edible cake for his birthday. Here are a few of the shots I got.

This last photo is the position you'll most likely see my Dad in during the Bridgewater Lawn Party Parade this Friday evening. I'm excited to see my Dad driving an ambulance during the parade. Ya'll better come on out and see him too!

Highland County

2009-07-14T19:11:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I was in Highland County spending time with my Mom's family. Normally I would have slept over at my Granddad's house, but he was feeling poorly, so I camped outdoors. Two of my good friends came with me, and we tested our tents against the rain that came this weekend. It was a fun weekend!

Over the course of the weekend my friend Brendan took over my camera from time to time. The end result was these two videos, plus some great photos. Thought I'd share the videos, and the inspiration behind them.

The first video is of the crick crossing we had to take to reach our camp site. I was told after the video was taken that it would have been much more dramatic to see some water spraying. In guy language that means you were going to slow, better speed it up.

You might wonder what's up with the second video, he's just recording a drive down a road. I was told when I saw this video that the significance isn't what's being shown, but my accent as I'm talking. I guess I was sounding a little "country".

Graduation Cake

2009-07-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

Recently I made an image cake for a young ladies' graduation. I was excited at how adorable the edible image turned out. It always helps to have such a beautiful baby in the picture!

Stories...

2009-07-05T19:30:00.000-07:00

My favorite stories are those in which it is evident that God is working out "the solution" to a problem before we even know our "need". Recently one of those events played out in my own life.

A couple weeks ago I began hearing in earnest about the upcoming Mennonite Convention that was to be held in Ohio. I heard particularly about our youth and their involvement with the convention trip. Hearing their excitement reminded me of the youth convention I attended at their age, but also it reminded me of Highland Retreat.

Highland Retreat is a christian youth camp I attended grewing up, and then in my late teens I worked there as a counselor. I remembered how it was at camp the years they had conventions, and many of the teen counselors would ask off for convention week. This always left the camp short of staff, and often they would need replacement staff for just the one week.

In the last several weeks, during my quiet time with God, I kept coming back to the idea of asking the camp director if they needed more help for the week. It seemed like a ridiculous idea. For starters, I'm at Sandal House, how was I going to get away for a week and leave my teen girls. I had also heard that camp attendance was down this year, it was very likely they didn't even need me there.

I kept telling myself how impossible the idea really was, and that I shouldn't worry about it.

The last weekend in June was the Highland Retreat Annual Steak BBQ Dinner that is a fundraiser for the camp. My dear friend Stephanie asked me earlier in the week if I was going to attend and could we go together. Once we arrived at the camp we went to find Ben and his wife Rebecca who both work there as summer staff and are old friends of ours. They immediately told us how attendance had increased for the next week very suddenly and that several girls had been put on a wait list because there wasn't enough female staff to have them come to camp.

I knew then I shouldn't hesitate. I immediately told Rebecca that I felt God was leading me to come that week and fill in, and I would find someone to cover for me at Sandal House, but I could come if they needed me. No sooner did those words come out of my mouth, then Stephanie said she would be happy to fill in for me at Sandal House for the time I would be away. The pieces fell into place so easily, within moments.

I spoke with the director of the camp that afternoon and we arranged for my time with them. The director was able to call the families with the wait listed campers and tell them they could come to camp the next week.

It was a wonderful week at camp!! I was placed in a cabin with six little 8-10 year old girls, and a co-counselor who was also an old friend of mine (she had come back to volunteer too).

During our time with these little girls they would often ask us to share stories with them. We would tell them of our old camp experiences (even some of the old pranks we pulled). The best stories were those of how God had worked in our lives, especially the times we experienced with Him at camp.

On Thursday morning we took our cabin on a hike. The hike turned out to be probably one of the best I was ever on as a counselor. Funny story, my co-counselor and I had been together once before as co-counselors, and at that time we had attempted a hike with a cabin, but were never able to find the trail head. We laughed at ourselves on this hike, because as simple as the hike was, we weren't able to find the trail head. We quickly came up with a plan B and hiked a different route.

This new route lead us directly up a ridge to the Wilderness Shelters found on the camp property. When I had been much younger I attended wilderness camp for many years and these shelters were like a second home to me. I took our campers on a tour of the wilderness camp grounds and showed them to my old shelter and my old bunk.

At the shelter a very special moment happened. We took the time to sit down together and share some Bible Stories, and from those stories I transitioned into sharing with the girls my own faith story that had happened right there in that very shelter. It was in that very shelter one evening when I was 12 years old that I asked my counselor to pray with me as I asked for forgiveness for my sins and invited Christ into my heart.

As I shared my story I looked around at those precious faces and prayed silently that one day they too would each have a similiar story to share. That they would know the joy of sharing with others the work that Christ has done in their lives. Who knows, maybe one day they'll be out in the middle of the woods with a group of little girls sitting around them listening as they share about the Love of Christ.

2009-06-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

I had a Great Aunt Jo (one of my Mom's aunts), who shared with us two very important prayers. The context of these prayers is the failing health Aunt Jo experienced in her 90's. At this time she was in almost constant pain and considered legally blind, yet we never heard a complaint from her. Instead, she sought to be a blessing to those around her.

She told us one day that she prayed two prayers each and every day during this season of her life. Each night before going to sleep she would ask the Lord to take her home to His Glory. Each morning when she found herself waking to another day, her first prayer was that the Lord would make her a blessing to someone else that day.

She explained to us, that God had a purpose for EACH day of her life, and she wanted to be a part of that purpose for ALL the days He had for her here. In her way of thinking it didn't matter that she couldn't see, or that pain was a constant in those last days (years), God still had a purpose for her.

I was thinking of Aunt Jo's prayers this morning when I woke, and asked the Lord to make a blessing to others today. It wasn't long after my prayer time when I went online and discovered and old college friend of mine went to be with the Lord on Thursday.

After the first shock, hearing of her death, I began to think back about the person she was. I knew her for only a short time while I attended school in Winnipeg, Manitoba, yet she was a blessing to me during that time. She was one of those people who helped me to feel at home in a place very distant from the only home I had ever known until then.

Kelli was her name; and she became my walking partner, my cheesecake eating buddy, my partner in crime (we might have pulled a prank together), and let's not forget all those clean dishes we put away at our campus job. Those were just some of the activities we shared, her friendship also meant a lot of laughter, encouragement, and a sympathetic ear. It's been almost ten years now since I've seen her, but the memories of those days will go with me for a lifetime.

It's through Kelli's life and the life of my Aunt Jo that I begin to understand what it means to live for Christ each and every day, ALL the days of our lives. Yes, sometimes that ALL seems to be cut terribly short, and we grapple to understand why that is. Yet, I sit here tonight and thank the Lord for Kelli's life and the love she shared with me and so many other people. We know now that she's resting in the arms of her Savior and Lord!

I Have Made the Transition...

2009-06-15T06:10:00.000-07:00

...I've officially become like my Mom.

It all started the day I was born, looking very much like my Mom (except I was jaudice - yellow looking - but that all disappeared in a couple of days).

From that point on I lived under the same roof as my Mom for eighteen plus years, and she just gradually rubbed off on me :)

These days I find myself in moments where I'm forced to admit that I'm acting just like my Mom. The most recent of these events was when I went about choosing paint colors for my home in Bridgewater. Normally I've been attracted to COLOR, not necessarily dark bold colors, but not WHITE. My Mom on the other hand has always liked whites that have a tint of another color to them.

We use to tease her about not going with color on her walls. Now that her and Dad are completing their new home, they've added color to each of the rooms. Because the axis of the earth suddenly shifted with that decision on my Mom's part, I had to be the one to bring balance again and went with different shades of white in my house :)

So, for those of you asking for pictures of my painting project don't get too excited, different shades of white don't pick up too well for the camera. You'll just have to think off colors of white with bright white semi-gloss trim and you'll have the right picture in your mind. For such a small home (with low ceilings too) going with warm tones of white was the right choice. The house feels much more open than if I had a darker color palate in mind.

For those of you who want to see the different shades of white you're welcome to come and visit me any time. If you come in the afternoons this week, just wear you're paint clothes, I've got a rollor or brush you can use.

Fresh Paint

2009-06-10T19:35:00.000-07:00

Since returning from Utah I've been renting a small home my parent's own (separate from where they live). They've pretty much given me free rein to make any modifications I want to the place...it's a really old home and they are beyond caring about the place.

I haven't really done much with the place in the last year because I've been working and living at Sandal House. Since my time with the teen mothers is coming to an end I've been preparing my move back to the home in Bridgewater.

I like to think this home has some character to it, and just needs a little TLC. Over the last couple of weeks I've been administering that tender loving care in the form of a fresh coat of paint for all the rooms. I'd say I'm about half way through the project and it's looking more daunting each day (that's painting for you).

The transformation though is absolutely amazing. Every once in awhile I stand back and look at the wall, trim or door I've just painted and I think how beautiful it's all becoming. I truly can't wait for the painting to be complete so I can begin the decorating with curtains and wall hangings/pictures.

Also, once the painting is complete the new flooring will go in...YEAH!! New carpeting and vinyl floor for all the rooms. I'm just so excited by all the changes to my home...my haven and sanctuary.

Just think once I put in all this work on the interior I can move my efforts to exterior with painting and gardening...oh goodie!

Favorite Time of Year

2009-06-09T19:35:00.000-07:00

It's my favorite time of year, that time each year when all the farmers get out their tractors and hit the open road.

Most motorist would disagree with me, and say that tractors are slower on the roads and a hinderance to normal traffic flow. Personally, I love slowing down somewhat and enjoying the view. It's an added bonus that often I recognize different farmers on their tractors and enjoy waving a greeting to them.

Having lived in both city and rural environments, I realize the idea of tractors mingling with other motorists is a "country" novelty. It's definitely one of the benefits of living in the country. I mean who doesn't enjoy a tractor!!

I remember how my high school even had a bring your tractor to school day. How "country" is that? During my brother's senior year he won for biggest tractor...it was a nice tractor...my Dad even named her (sorry I can't remember her name at the moment...but it was definitely a "her").

When I think of tractors I also think of my good friend Kyle. There have been several times he's made me laugh over the phone with his tractor talk. One afternoon when I was living in Utah I called Kyle back in Virginia and tried talking to him. Before he even said hello it was, "hold on let me turn off my tractor." Okay, I know that's not particularly funny, but for a country girl who had been living too long in a big city, it was unexpected and therefore very amusing. Plus, you have to know Kyle, the whole comment was said with this great accent.

Though I never would have said I was one of those girls who cared what kind of vehicle a guy drove, I've been thinking lately that it helps if he's driving a TRACTOR. Let me clarify for the public at large I'm NOT interested in the John Deere variety...it's much better if the tractor is red or blue (New Holland, Case, Ford, etc.) Let's not have any of that green and yellow stuff :)

Though this picture was taken about six months ago, it's the best picture I have of a cutie on a tractor. It's of one of the little ones that lived at Sandal House. We went on a field trip to visit a local farm. Just goes to show everyone looks good on a tractor!!

Mishaps and Memories...

2009-04-29T19:49:00.000-07:00

Today was a very FULL day. Since I haven't felt up to much over the last week, I have this long list of "to do" items that have been compiling. Today was an attempt at checking many of those items off the list. It seemed the more I tried to accomplish, the more I stumbled along the way.

After work I needed to pick up some dessert for the girls to take with them to the Youth Group dinner at church. I decided that Costco has great cookies in their bakery and it's on my way home from work, so I stopped in there. Of course the place was busy around the 5:00 p.m. hour and I ended up standing in a very long line. I got through the line only to drop the cookies all over the floor near the entrance. They were very gracious and allowed me to exchange the ruined cookies for some new ones at no cost to me. So now I had my cookies, but it took me twice as long as I thought it would.

I took the girls to Youth Group and headed out to run errands. I needed to pick up supplies and groceries for a bake sale we're having to support a hospital in Mali. The bake sale is this Saturday and I needed to do most of my grocery shopping tonight. On my long list of items to buy was 18 large eggs. I was in the check line of the grocery store when the eggs took a tumble from my cart to the floor, making sure to break every last 18 of them. What a Mess!!

At this point I've watched the "cookie crumble" and "walked carefully on eggshells" what else could possibly go wrong? How about an exploding can of pepsi. When I got back to the house with all my groceries I placed a 12 pack of pepsi a little too hard on the floor and one can exploded in the package. So, I went about cleaning up pepsi from my floor.

Just to rub salt in my wound I realized after I got home that I incorrectly informed the grocery checkout lady about the number of soda packages I had purchased. My mind was so focused on the fact that I had packages of 12 that I told her I have 12 packages in my cart (I wasn't about to lift them all on the conveyor belt), when I only had 9 packages with 12 in a package. I ended up paying for 3 packages I never even had, but I do remember telling her 12, so I'm calling it my "idiot tax". It just grips the Cheap Mennonite in me that I paid $9 more than I had too.

** I should have never asked myself what else could go wrong. I wrote this post last evening, and this morning I awoke to find out that the auxillary fridge in our basement (the one storing all my bake sale perishables) had gone out during the night. Just another little set back in a day full of mishaps. **

Despite all the set backs to my day I did enjoy the baking that ended my evening. With the bake sale this Saturday (Lord, please don't let it rain that morning/early afternoon) I had a lot of baking to do. I started with the chocolate chip cookies this evening, and as I rolled the cookie dough I started thinking about Jake Tillett. It's not surprising that Jake was forefront in my thoughts, the bake sale is to support his service to the Koutiala Hospital in Mali, Africa. Jake will be serving there for the next year and other rural clinics.

So, the bake sale was reminding me of Jake, also the simple act of rolling out cookie dough brought him to mind. One of my favorite memories of Jake was the evening he came over to help me roll out hundreds and hundreds of cookies for an Art Benefit we were having to raise funds for the African Refugees in Salt Lake City. As my contribution to the benefit (hey I'm no artist) I was providing the catering to the event. Jake volunteered to help as my baker's assistant for the evening before the event.

It was a long long evening of baking cookies and prepping other items. Jake, the poor dear, spent most of the evening rolling and rolling cookie dough. If you haven't noticed I've mentioned several times that he rolled cookie dough. I'm not able to stress enough how long he was at that task or how tedious it was for him. I don't think Jake will ever be volunteering to help me bake again :)

The cookies that night were a huge hit. Jake and I had made them bite sized, so that they carried more with the upscale atmosphere of the night. In the end we had fed hundreds, but there was still more cookies leftover (almost as if God had multiplied them like the loaves and fish). When the event came to a close, I asked the organizer if I could take the leftovers to a local shelter, she loved that idea.

For me the highlight of that evening wasn't the success of the Art Benefit (though that went specularly well), it was the look on the man's face when I drove up the shelter later that evening and asked if he would like some homemade cookies. Every cookie that Jake had meticulously rolled brought happiness to someone that night, some more than others.

I'm rolling cookie dough for Jake now, and it's a labor that I look forward to seeing the Lord stretch. That the happiness a small cookie can bring will reach far beyond just the person who eats it. I think of how the funds from the bake sale will be supporting Jake, that the work that he's about will bless a people, and how those healthy individuals will spread the blessing. That's what's possible when we give our labors to the Lord. He's able to use them far beyond a simple act of rolling out a ball of dough.

Funny Blog

2009-04-27T07:55:00.000-07:00

As regularly as I check my email I also check my "blog list" to see if any of my friends or favorite sites have updated their blogs. Late last week I added a new blog to my blog list and I've been enjoying each and every day since then.

You all should look to the right of this page and find "Stuff Christians Like". I love the humor here, I hope you enjoy it also.

Biscuits and Gravy...

2009-04-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

During my later teen years and into my early twenties I spent my summers working at a local youth camp. I loved those summers, being in nature and spending time with kids, was the ultimate job for me back then. It didn't pay much, but then again I didn't have bills to pay back then (thanks Dad and Mom). What it lacked in pay it more than made up for in other "bonuses", one being the Wednesday morning biscuits and gravy.

That breakfast was so routine and delicious the counselors even came up with a little song (that had motions) to express our joy on that particular morning. To this day whenever I have biscuits and gravy I'm transported back to Wednesday morning at camp.

This morning I arose from my short sleep (after a very long day yesterday and an even longer night) and began preparations for biscuits and gravy. At Sandal House we were having guests over for breakfast and we needed to impress.

For the buttermilk biscuits I put all my dry ingredients in a bowl and sifted together as I watched the sunrise out my kitchen window. The sky was a mix of beautiful colors as I cut in my butter and added the wet ingredients. There was good light streaming through the kitchen window by the time I was cutting out my biscuits.

As the biscuits went into the oven I began to brown the most delicious pork sausage. I heard the birds begin to chirp as the sausage began to sing in the pan. I saw a couple birds flying back and forth before the window as I browned flour into the cooked sausage. Then came the sound I love so much, the first hiss as the cold milk hits the hot pan and picks up all that wonderful brown flour. I stirred until the gravy became thick and added my seasonings.

Everything came together right on time. Our guest arrived and we sat down to warm biscuits with hot gravy poured on top. That's how a body should start out their day!

Roadtrip with the Dixie Chicks

2009-04-21T06:34:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday I jumped in the car with my friend Emily and a Dixie Chick cd. Three hours later I was in Floyd, VA and feeling very light of heart. It's great what a good friend and good music can do for a girl.

I had never been to Floyd, but had heard about it off and on through the years. It had always sounded like some kind of farming town that wasn't worth the long drive (not when I can get "farming" right here in Rockingham County).

Well, shatter my misconceptions, because Floyd is my kind of town. Sure, it's got plenty of agriculture there (nothing wrong with that), but it's also got the best of past traditions, particularly when it comes to good music and dance. Floyd is famous for the "Floyd Country Store" which is celebrating it's 100th anniversery this year. Every Friday night the Country Store holds their "Friday Night Jamboree" with live bluegrass music and plenty of flatfoot dancing (clogging). In the warm summer months the fun and crowds even flow out on to the street with their dancing.

About once a month they even have live music and dancing on Saturday night. It was on one of these Saturdays that Emily and I attended. What a fun experience! I took some pictures for you to enjoy:

This first photo was of the Sunset outside our hotel room. We stayed at the Oak Haven Lodge, which had this incredible oak tree right outside our balcony. The Oak Haven Lodge was probably the best hotel I've stayed in EVER. It wasn't because it was extra fancy or anything, I just liked it because it was styled to be "homey". There was quilted bedspreads, country furnishings, stenciled paintings on the wall. I felt welcome from the moment I walked in. The porch balcony was even nice, I enjoyed this sunset while relaxing on our rocking chair. If you ever make it down to Floyd I'd recommend staying here.

After checking into our room, when then went out in search for dinner. Not far from the Floyd Country Store we came across El Charro's. WELL...we have two El Charro's in Harrisonburg, and they're a favorite of Emily and I, so dinner was an easy decision. We discovered this wasn't a chain restaurant, but the menus were surprisingly similiar. The food though was quite different. I really like the El Charro's in Harrisonburg, I think they're food is great, but the El Charro's in Floyd had INCREDIBLE food. The guacamole was best part of the meal, with real chunks of avacado in it. If you're ever in Floyd you better check out El Charro's for an excellent meal.

After dinner we walked straightaway to the Floyd Country Store, since the music and dancing had already begun. Once inside I have to admit I was a little intimidated by the excellent flatfoot dancers who were out on the floor. There were plenty of chairs to sit on, so Emily and I found a seat and just watched them dance. We sat there for quite a few numbers and I was getting bored, but still didn't have the nerve to actually get out on the floor and make a fool of myself with nonexsistent dancing skills.

After awhile we started browsing the store, which is really a great step back into the past, with their old fashioned products. After we saw all the store had to offer, we found new seats and started watching the dancing again. At this point I was starting to think this was a bad idea, why did we come here when we couldn't even dance. I saw a woman dancing her way to the dance floor, she was excellent, and she was going to be passing right by us. When she was next to me I asked her how long she had been dancing, her reply, "Since July." Less than a year, and she was great! She asked us why we weren't dancing and we admitted we didn't know how. She dragged us with her up to the dance floor and before you knew it we were clogging along with everyone else. I loved it!! I loved the clacking, the rythym, the music, EVERYTHING.

We continued to dance throughout the evening. One older, more eccentric woman took us under her wing and should us some steps. Emily was fun to watch, because of her passion for Salsa dancing she would mix the moves with clogging and came up with her own style. I had a few funny moment during the evening, the first was during a two-step (just a slow paced dance) when our "eccentric woman" motioned Emily and I out onto the dance floor. I'm going to teach you girls the Electric Slide she said. I didn't think I was hearing her right. I remember learning the electric slide in middle school, it was a fast paced line dance. She couldn't possibly be suggesting that the three of us dance the electric slide out on that dance floor with all the other COUPLES dancing around. Just as I feared though, that was exactly what she had been suggesting. For someone who likes to mingle on the floor with other people and not draw too much attention that was the LONGEST dance of my life.

The second "funny moment" came at the end of the evening when they played their last two-step (slow paced). There wasn't many young men at this dance, so that left "grandfather" types for Emily and I to dance with, which when you don't know people those gentlemen are preferred. A very nice gentleman asked me to dance as they called out this last dance. We stood in the middle of the floor preparing to dance. I told him I didn't know how to two step and he quickly told me, "two steps to the right, on step to the left" and we were off. It was then that I noticed that no body else was out on the dance floor. For what seemed like a lifetime it was just him and me, with everyone else watching. Slowly then other couples came out to the floor and my breathing returned to normal.

Here are some photos of the Floyd Country Store.

Here's Emily by the wood carved door at the Hardware Store. How great is that door?

Emily asked me to take a picture of this sign for the Oddfellas Cantina. She loved the name of this place. Since our trip I've heard from someone that this is a really great place to eat. I guess I'll be trying it out on my next trip to Floyd.

Emily also noticed this cross before I did. It was in the window of some store. I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it.

I love this photo. We didn't go to the Blue Ridge restaurant, but it looked good. I took the photo for the sign "North 221". We came into Floyd on this road, driving south from Roanoke. It's really a great, scenic drive.

As we were driving back home we took Route 221 back. Drive back wasn't as hurried as the drive to Floyd. Along the way we stop and took photos of some of our favorite scenes. We passed a Farmers Market with some neat advertising. Emily got this photo of the vehicle and sign.

I loved the fencing on this farm, so we pulled over and tried to capture the beauty of it all. Though I love this picture and think it turned out all right, I'd say it still doesn't do justice to all that we saw through our own eyes.

One of our last scenic stops was just outside Roanoke where we took this photo that speaks to me of the "First days of Spring." You're just starting to see some color come out on the trees.

Easter in Highland County

2009-04-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday found me in Highland County with my Granddaddy Vance. As always, I enjoyed my time with Granddad, and part of me didn't want to leave beautiful Highland County.

When I arrived at my Granddad's on Saturday I thought this month I would just skip church, it being a special service at church's and not wanting to visit a church on such a "holiday" service. I thought it would be nice to spend that extra time in the morning with my Granddad and fixing us a nice meal to be shared together.

Saturday evening my Uncle John stopped by and invited me to his church in McDowell. An invitation to church from my Uncle John!!! I couldn't turn that down.

I changed my Sunday morning plans, by doing some meal preparation before church and leaving last minute details to be finished shortly after services. My Uncle came by my Granddad's home shortly before 10 a.m. and we were off to church.

Now the town of McDowell located in Highland County has a couple of Church Steeples, and I've passed by them often enough during my lifetime, but have never visited. On this particular Sunday we visited McDowell United Methodist, where both my Uncles John and Robin (my Mom's only two brothers) attend.

We arrived just a tad late Sunday morning and service had already begun. Uncle John told me to open the white door to the left and walk on in. I'm use to larger church buildings, so I was expecting a small area to stand in once I opened the door and walked in. You know what I'm talking about, that space from the last row of pews until you reach the back wall where I person can stand and scan for a seat without obstructing anyone's vision.

When I took a step into this sanctuary I was already two rows of pews deep into the congregation before I realized there was no standing room space. I was definitely blocking some people's view and the church was packed. A couple rows forward there was some space that fit me and my Uncle, and when we took our seats the church was FULL.

To give you an idea of the size of this church, I'd say there was about 60-70 people there that Easter Sunday, and we were packed into those pews. I think when a church building is that small the term best used to describe it is Quaint. I haven't spent much time in "country churches", so it only added to the charm of the service for me.

When you have that few number of people and you're in such a small space, you can't help but get to know one another. What a loving and caring family they were to each other, and visitors. Being part of that church just for the day, touched my heart.

I came to find out after the service that the individuals in that church actually made up four different congregations. I asked my Aunt Nancy (my Uncle Robin's wife) how many people attended the United Methodist church on a given Sunday. Her reply, "Oh, I'd say about twenty." That's something I've never experienced, being part of a church of twenty. I've been apart of small groups that size. Don't get me misunderstand me, there's nothing wrong with being part of a church of twenty, there's even something idealic about it. I'm just stating the fact that a church membership that size is something foreign to me.

The reason for the combined church service was a tradition that these churches had with one another. Each year for the Easter week they combine their memberships and giftings to produce a skit that marks the passage of the week. There are four different services during the week (including two on Sunday) and each service is held at one of the churches.

What a beautiful message of the body of Christ, that these people who are neighbors and friends, drop their denomination title for the week and worship together.

I particularly liked the message their simple skit displayed on Sunday morning.

For someone whose church tradition is to see an empty tomb at front as visual focus, I was interested in knowing how they were going to use the fairly large cross at the front of their church. The cross was covered in some plastic mesh stuff. Shortly into the service adults began leading small children up to the front of the cross; the adults were reading scripture and the children carried beautiful flower arrangements. While one adult continued to read, two others would help the children arrange the flowers to the cross using the plastic mesh to hold the flowers in place. Before long you could no longer see the wood (or the plastic mesh) of the cross, it was so covered in beautiful, vibrant flowers.

The pastor then shared briefly this message (synposis form):

In day's of Jesus the cross was an ugly, torture of death. There was no worse way to die than by death on the cross.

Yet, today so many look to the symbol of the cross as a sign of hope and salvation. How is it that the message of the cross is so changed?

It's through Christ Our Lord!!

God is the One who can bring life from death. God is the One who can joy from adversity. God is the One that can change the hearts of each one of us. God is our Salvation!!

Today we see new life on this cross (the flowers) where before it was just two boards nailed together. Let this be a symbol of the new life that Christ can bring about in each of our lives.

At the end of the service as we sang the closing hymn two strong men carried the Flowered Cross out through the Church and placed it outdoors. My Aunt Nancy told me later that they leave the Flowered Cross there on the lawn for the whole next week, so as you passed by you would remember the ressurection.

I didn't have my camera with me that day to get a picture of the cross, but I didn't find the same sort of picture online.

You might also note from this picture that it was taken at a United Methodist Church, though it wasn't the church I visited.

Communication

2009-04-15T13:51:00.000-07:00

I'd like to think, that over the years I've gained some skill in being able to communicate adeptly with others. Now I realize that there are times when I've missed the mark, and haven't been able to effectively get my point across. Though by and large I think most people understand me when I speak, write, or send non-verbal communication like nodding my head.

I've also matured over the years in communicating as a responsibility. If I tell someone I'll call, I call. If I'm suppose to send an email I write that email. This doesn't always mean that it works out for me (I'm remembering how over a month ago I struggled with my computer/email and my emails wouldn't send and I couldn't receive others - talk about frustrating).

These days my struggle in communication is learning how to effectively do it with a teenage population. I've got two words for you...SANDAL HOUSE!

In the beginning of my term at Sandal House I would bend over backwards to be flexible regarding the teens and their ability to communicate their needs and wants. That approach accomplished very little.

Now I take the approach that if they aren't able to effectively communicate to me in a timely manner what it is they need or want, then they often have to make do without. I'm happy to report this approach has begun to foster a more responsible attitude in our home.

For example, in the past the girls would often come to me when they were on their last diaper for their child and tell me they need more diapers. It never seemed to matter how often I asked them to give me some forewarning, so we could arrange diapers in a timely manner, they still continued to come to me at the last minute. After awhile I got tired of sounding like a broken record and I left them with the consequences.

I remember the evening, one of my teens came to me as I was leaving the house for a meeting (a meeting I had on our calendar for three weeks) and informed me she had just used her last diaper and need me to get her some more that evening. I looked at her and said, "I hear what you're asking me, but it doesn't sound like it's my problem. You're going to need either give me atleast 24 hours warning before you need diapers, or you need to figure out how you're going to get them yourself."

Presto...she found a diaper or two to borrow, gave me my forewarning, and we haven't had the problem since.

I've learned when you have THREE teens and only ONE little ol' me, it's important to get your communication worked out.

Actually, last evening a friend of mine asked me if I was learning a lot from my Sandal House experience. Now this was a friend I see quite often, and talk to even more, so they shouldn't be surprised when I just gave them a blank "you've got to be kidding me" look. I was with a group of friends when the question was posed, and they laughed a little at my surprise of the question. I finally just smiled and said, "Yes, I'm learning a lot."

What an understatment though. It seems that everyday I learn something new. Something about teenagers, babies, toddlers, parenting, our cultural, our values, and faith. I could go on and on about what God has shown me through this experience. Praise Him!

Lesson Learned...again and again

2009-04-08T08:46:00.000-07:00

At the ripe old age of 28 I can look back over my life and notice a disturbing trend. I have a tendency to attract very strange people to me.

Thankfully, more "healthy" acquitances are the norm, but still every once in awhile I have a strange come out of the woodwork. It's never very funny at the moment, but time has a way of coloring the events into what is often an amusing story (laughing sometimes is the only antidote).

This past Sunday I added another event to my list of memories. I was walking through the Walmart parking lot when some man grabbed my arm and spun me around. Though I'll admit to being startled, my first thought was, "who is this guy?" My mind couldn't process why a stranger would grab me like that, so for a split second I thought it had to be someone I knew.

By the time I realized he wasn't anyone I had ever met, he had already grabbed my right arm too and was pulling me towards him. The next 5-10 seconds was a very limited struggle of me trying to pull first my arms and then head away from him. He on the other hand, was trying to pull me by the arms and then grabbing at me by the neck (trying to get my head closer).

Surprise and shock played a role into why I didn't fight back (other than just making movement to pull away). It wasn't like he was trying to drag me anywhere, and he didn't have a gun or knife that I could see. When trying to explain the incident later to people all I could fathom was that he was trying to kiss me or something. He kept trying to get our faces closer, so I assumed that it was a kiss he wanted.

It was because he was trying to get our faces closer that I smelled the alcohol on his breath...UGH!

Our Lord sent a protector for me that evening. I never got the man's name, and he didn't get mine, but this man saw what was happening and spoke up and came to help me out. Because of his actions the whole incident was very brief (it seemed to me that it was over before I even registered what was happening). The man who was attacking me ran off when my rescuer started coming towards us.

I'm happy to report that the drunk attacker was later arrested for a DWI and has admitted to grabbing me in the parking lot. When asked why he said, "I was just having a little fun." Unlucky for him, his fun involved leaving bruises and scratches on my person, so he'll be charged with assault and battery.

Now you see what I mean about attracting the "strange ones". I have any number of stories where I've been in uncomfortable or even dangerous circumstances, which for a girl who grew up in a rural farming community that's just a little too much.

I have learned some valuable lessons from each of these experiences. For starters, I need to be more alert, especially when walking alone. I'll admit I have a tendency to be always lost in thought when I'm walking from here to there, that's a bad habit I should break. Next lesson I learned, when walking in a parking lot have your keys already in hand and don't be rummaging through your pursue with your head down. I was guilty of that one on Sunday evening.

If anything I've learned through all my years is that trust is a big factor for me. My entire childhood taught me that trust could just be easily given. I could trust my family, friends, neighbors, almost anyone who came into my life (with a few exceptions). It's not been until my adult years that I've learned that trust is something that should be earned. Sure that can come sooner for some than others, but it's not something I should just assume.

And with that I've learned a valuable lesson in life.

Devotionals

2009-04-01T06:21:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but it's certainly true for me, there are times in my life when waiting on God and His answers is quite difficult. This has not been one of those weeks for me.

This week God's presence and leading has been very direct in my life. For this blessing I am thankful. I am thankful we have a heavenly Father who loves us in such a manner that He will directly lead us. I am thankful for a heavenly Father who cares about my every needs, even my emotional ones. And I am thankful that in this week God hasn't asked patience from me :) He knows that's my struggle.

I started this week with a prayer and each day the Lord has lead me in an answer. I felt lead to share some of the answers with you. Who knows you might find an answer to one of your prayers in this too. Isn't it amazing how God is able to do that for us?

Lead Me Lord

31 Mar 2009

Wendy Blight
"Your Word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path." Psalm 119:105 (NIV)
Do you pray for direction, and hear nothing?
Do you wonder if God even heard your prayers?
Friend, you are not alone. Often I come before God, pouring out my heart in prayer, seeking His will for different areas in my life. Then I hear nothing. He is silent. Not wanting to wait, I forge ahead on my own. In my busyness, I fail to sit and wait. No time, I say, because someone is waiting for an answer. No time, I say, because I need to act now.
Yet, when I examine Scripture, God consistently teaches: sit, pray, and wait. Jesus began His ministry by fasting forty days alone in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). He spent an entire night alone in prayer before choosin g His twelve disciples (Luke 6:12).
Esther fasted and prayed for three days before she took the bold and courageous step of going before the king on behalf of her people, knowing it could mean her death (Esther 4:8-16).
Elijah went into the wilderness for forty days to hear the "still small voice" (1 Kings 19:11-18).
What do these great people of faith teach us? To know God's leading, to hear His voice, we must listen and wait. Maybe we think God is silent because we never take the time to sit in God's Word and wait. When we do, He promises it will penetrate us to the marrow of our bones, to the deepest places in our heart. Hebrews 4:12 says His Word is living and active and "sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow" (NIV).
When we choose to get alone with God, He promises to meet us there. Jeremiah 29:13-14a says, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be f ound by you" (NIV). Take the challenge to meet Him in His Word.
Do you want direction? Follow these steps.
1) Read God's Word: 2 Timothy 3:16-17 says, "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness, so that the [woman] of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work" (NIV) God was actively involved in the writing of Scripture. It is the infallible and authoritative Word of God written to speak Truth into your life today.
2) Study God's Word: 2 Timothy 2:15 says, "Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth" (NIV). When you study His Word, He plants it deep within your heart. His Spirit then takes the Word and bends your heart in His direction, enabling you to hear His Voice.
3) Pray God's Word: Isaiah 55:11 says, "...so is My Word that goes out from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purposes for which I sent it" (NIV). Prayer is God's living Word spoken out of your mouth. When you pray in faith, you hold God' Word up to Him in prayer. You put Him in remembrance of His Word, and His promise is that Word will not return void. Furthermore it shall accomplish that which He purposes and pleases.
Join me today in applying God's Word to the circumstances in your life. Know that when you do, God promises to do abundantly more than you could ever ask or imagine!
Heavenly Father, I need direction in my life today. You seem distant and silent. Yet I know that You are not because You promise to never leave me or forsake me. Today, I commit to search Your Word. Open my eyes that I may see the wonderful things in Your Law. Give me eyes to see and ears to hear Your direction in my circumstances. Thank You, Lord, that in my seeking You will meet me. Thank You that as I trust in You completely, You will le ad me down Your paths! In Jesus' Name, Amen.

The preceeding devotional I read on Tuesday morning. It came at just the right time to offer encouragement and insight into the prayer I had lifted up to the Lord. The beginning of the devotional shared a verse from Psalms that has often been on of my favorites through the years, "Your Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path" Psalm 119:105. During my teen years I remember hearing a sermon that highlighted this verse. The preacher "culturized" the verse, bringing in aspects of the culture at the time it was written. It was a powerful illustration to me at that time in my life. This preacher started talking about the lamp and how lamps back in the Old Testament time were not these powerful light sources we are use to today (ie...flashlights). A lamp back then allowed you to see maybe several feet around you, after that it was just darkness. To go out walking at night with a lamp that only allowed you to see that couple of feet from where you were standing required a lot of faith.

I am so use to readily available light. I can walk into a room and easily flip a switch, and there is light. If I'm driving and there are not enough street lights, then I have high beams on my car I can use. Even if I'm out camping and need light, there are some pretty powerful flashlights out there that could illuminate a good bit for me. For me, there is very little reason I would ever need to walk in almost darkness.

Yet, in my spiritual life there have been times when God has only illuminated the way just enough for me to see my next step and not much beyond. And when I took that next step another step came into the light. It takes faith to walk that way, but fear not God loves us and is there walking with us, we only have to believe.

The Truth About Fear

1 Apr 2009

Micca Monda Campbell
"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:8 (NIV)
Have you ever noticed how some TV commercials mix just enough truth with their product to make it believable? While that's called false advertisement, the product still comes off convincing. It's not until we purchase the product, and it fails, that the trickery becomes exposed.
In the same way, Satan specializes in false advertisement. He's good at making our fears look real when they are not. Does that mean all fears are wrong? No. The fear of standing near a high cliff protects us from getting to close to the edge and toppling over. One the other hand, Satan's spooks are full of trickery. They are usually disabling and keep us from progress. This kind of false advertisement can choke our faith and fuel our fears.
Have you ever wondered where our struggle between faith and fear began? I have. According to author and teacher Malcolm Smith, fear was introduced to the human race by a satanic lie.
The Garden is the first place where the serpent deceived Eve by twisting God's word. The Lord told Adam not to eat of any tree in the garden except the tree of knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:16-17). If he or Eve ate from that tree, they would surely die spiritually. Not only did Eve eat the forbidden fruit, but she offered it to Adam and he ate too.
As soon as Adam disobeyed God, their relationship changed. Adam was not only afraid, but he doubted God's authority, friendship, and provision. Satan's lie told Adam that he didn't need God. In fact, Adam was persuaded that he could be his own god, self-sufficient in every way.
The same can be true for you and me. At times, you an d I live independent of God's presence. We act as if everything depends on us. We wouldn't dare admit that we are in over our heads. We want to appear in control. But God never meant for you and me to be strong in and of ourselves. We were meant to show His strength in our weakness as He provides for our needs. We were created to live like little children, dependent on the care our heavenly Father.
The times we insist on living life our way, in our own strength, we experience the same result as Adam and Eve. We will live in fear. This is right where Satan wants us.
If we're afraid to try, we never will. If the enemy can keep us contained by fear, we won't be able to fulfill our potential or make a difference in the life of another. Satan knows what we are capable of with Christ. To prevent us from that realization, he poisons us with fear.
The truth is what we fear rarely comes to pass. This kind of fear that is fueled by Satan's lies can be described by this acrostic:
False

Evidence

Appearing

Real
It's not that we shouldn't be concerned about certain issues of life such as safety and health. But when worrying takes over by keeping us up at night and shutting us down during the day, we've moved into a place we were never meant to live. We must return to living in God's presence and relying on His promises and provision. Only then will we be able to distinguish between truth and lies. Only then will our lives be marked by faith, not fear.
Dear Lord, help me to discern between false fears and real concerns. As I commit Your Word to memory, make Your truth alive in my heart so that I can battle fear and live by faith. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

The preceeding devotional was from earlier today. WOW! It mirrored my thoughts over the last two days about fear. I'm in the midst of stepping out on faith and making a decision that has been a long time in coming, but always before fear held me back. Thank you Lord for sending me this encouraging word for today! I hope you're able to find encouragement in God's word as well.

Confessions From A Twenty Something...

2009-03-30T12:33:00.000-07:00

Every girl should have a best girlfriend. I'm fortunate, I have several, though there is one I've had longer than most, and by rights she hears it ALL from me.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm holding back from everyone else but her. I'm a fairly open person, atleast when it comes to my girlfriends. This one in particular just happens to get the longer version most of the time, and she's comfortable enough around me to give me her advice. And boy do I usually need that advice!

Here I am in my late twenties, and I do believe there are times I could pass for a thirteen year old. During those moments it helps to know there is a more mature, reasoning individual who can stand beside me and offer the wisdom I should already hold as a late twenty something.

For instance, this past week I was dealing with a myraid of emotions concerning work, church, friends, and of course men. My dear friend helped to put it all into perspective with this sound advice, "it's time for a truth session."

Her idea of a truth session is to call, email, meet, or whatever other method of communication works best for you, and lay your feelings on the line. Whether it's about your job, your family, your faith, or your man, you lay the truth out there for someone else to receive.

It wasn't until she offered this advice that I started reflecting on how often I pass along my feelings to my girlfriends, and maybe not where they need to be heard, with the person(s) my feelings concern.

Since I'm somewhat reflective in nature I had to ask myself is this behavior healthy? Is it good to hold your feelings in, or pass them along to a third-party without ever confronting the source? I still don't know the answer to that one.

I will say though, in an effort to test my friend's advice, I've begun sharing my feelings with a few sources (baby steps). I've been really happy with the truth results.

Here's a great example from today at work. I work with someone who is really sensitive to office noise. It impedes her office effiency when she believes others are being too noisy, and I've noticed so far she hasn't hesitated to let us know when she thinks we're being too loud. Well today I wore high heel shoes to work and we have hard wood floors. I was probably up and around the office only about half a dozen times during the day (spent way too many hours behind my desk), but this individual had to comment each time I went walking about.

By the end of the day I was frustrated with her remarks, and in particular her stopping by my office to tell me to invest in all rubber soled shoes so I wouldn't make such a racket. This is normally a situation I would vent to my girlfriends and maybe blog about in a negative way. I'm happy to say, that instead of taking her remarks I actually got my nerve up and confronted her. I informed her that I didn't have the means nor the inclination (I don't like shopping) to purchase all new shoes for my wardrobe, but I would make an extra effort to walk on the balls of my feet hoping to reduce the walking noise.

See, there is hope for me yet. I'm slowly and faithfully learning how to deal with my emotions and reponses in a way that is mature and somewhat on par with my age :) Now if I could only be that honest with the men in my life ;)

Online Stalker

2009-03-23T07:47:00.000-07:00

No, I don't have an online stalker, at least I don't believe so. I'm afraid it's much worse than that, I think I'm the stalker :)

Between reading my friends Blogs and the information they put out through Facebook, I'm continuing our relationship without even adding discussion into the mix. Just about everyday I go to my blog page here and check out which one of my friends has updated their blogs. Then I go to their blogs and read about current events in their lives. If that's not enough I then check out my Facebook page and scroll down the newsfeed to see if there is anything worthy to note on my friend's happenings.

Usually I'm able to pick up some tidbits here and there through those two avenues, and all that without even personally writing them an email or picking up the phone to call them. Technology has moved to an all new level of impersonal relationship building, and I'm hooked!

I was just realizing how bad this has gotten when yesterday I sat down to lunch with somone I know through church. We're more acquitances than friends and I just wanted to sit down with him to talk about a recent mission trip he did with YWAM (Youth With A Mission). It wasn't until after our conversation that I realized with shock the number of times I mentioned to him something I knew about him and had learned through Facebook. I knew about crazy adventures he had on his mission. I knew about his new job. I knew about his desire to go back to school this Fall and study for his RN. For how little I actually know this guy in person, I knew way too much.

It's all rather a little creepy to say the least.

Yet, it's all okay too. I mean we are the ones putting ourselves out there. Here I am putting my thoughts and feelings on the internet on my blog and then adding to that with a Facebook page.

So, maybe I'm not the only online snoop out there. Maybe there are others of you. Maybe you're reading this blog right now and know you're guilty of the same :)

All Alone...

2009-03-20T10:34:00.000-07:00

....and loving it.

Since I moved into Sandal House back in July of 2008 I haven't had much alone time there. Well, none at all except for the first week when I moved in and got myself situated. From that second week until now I've had at least one if not all three rooms occupied by teen mothers.

I'm happy to have the girls there. Neither me nor Sandal House would be there if there wasn't a need and these young ladies do have a need.

Last Thursday though I found myself in an interesting situation. I had one girl in the house with me, and she was moving out. Suddenly the house was so quiet, no teens, no little toddlers running around. QUIET!

Here I had been going along without peace and quiet for months and months, and now suddenly when I had it I realized how much I needed it. This past week has been the most relaxing, enjoyable vacation I've had in awhile.

It's not that I haven't been busy; I've definitely been busy. I still have a full time job where I put in 40 hours a week. I've been studying for an exam I need to take here soon for my job. Also in the midst of my little mini break I decided that without young ones underfoot now would be the perfect time to get in a Spring Cleaning.

So, no I haven't been sitting around with a good book and eating chocolate (that would be nice though). But despite my lack on inactivity I still find myself relaxed. I've decided it's all about the weight of responsibility.

Without the teens around I'm not having to think about them all the time. I'm not having to wonder about the groceries in the house, have they done their chores, did they get their ride to school, etc. All I have to concentrate on is taking care of myself for a week. What a luxury!!

Through all of this down time I have had one reoccurring thought, that at this time in my life I'm happy not being a full time Mom. If and when I take on the responsibility of becoming a full time Mom I want help in the form of a spouse, and I want to have less obligations on my calendar. If I can't empty my house of a child in a couple of months (like my teens) then I need to be smart about having them in the first place :)

Until that time I'll just enjoy being a part-time Mom. I'm going to live up my last weekend of freedom and welcome my new teen on Monday.

Virginia through Foreign Eyes...

2009-03-12T18:25:00.000-07:00

I grew up in rural Virginia. Life here is changing, yet static. Though I've seen drastic changes, like less farm land, and more homes and retail (the country is becoming city at a rapid pace), it seems somethings always stay the same. I think the "cultural" of Virginia stays true to an extent.

For me this last week has been interesting as I read the blog of a South African Group Study Exchange (GSE) as they detail their time in Virginia. They're writing about sites that I take for granted and commenting on "culture" that doesn't seem the least bit strange to me. As they write though I begin to see how my everyday life could seem very unusual to an outsider looking in.

The whole experience reminds me of the journals I kept while in South Africa. Here I was a Virginian looking into the sites and culture of a foreign land. I'm sure for a South African my journal must be quite amusing.

If you're interested in keeping up with the GSE group as they visit Virginia over the next several weeks check out their blog. Now if you're interested in my old South African journal you'll have to travel back to my old blog. The problem with my journal on the blog is that it's broken up over several days. You'll have to read most of the November 2005 posts to finish the journal. Have fun with it!!

10,000 Plus

2009-03-11T15:56:00.000-07:00

I've officially reached 10,000 plus hits on my blog! You know what this means...party favors are coming out. If you haven't already sent me a comment, just leave your email address and we'll be in touch.

A Gift From God...

2009-03-09T21:13:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, the Shenandoah Valley received a precious gift from God...a weekend with the most beautiful Spring weather. It was in the upper 60's and lower 70's most of the weekend, and absolutely gorgeous. Not one to miss the first Spring like days of the year I was outdoors like most other Virginians soaking up the warmth.

On Sunday I convinced a number of my friends to come hiking with me up on Shenandoah National Park. We choose to hike the Lewis Falls Trail, which was definitely fun.

Here's Chitra standing before the "Stay on the Trail" sign. No one wants to take a fall off those rocks.

Brendan was always anxious for me to take is photograph :)

Kyle was enjoying the view from the falls, or he was just smiling for the camera.

Emily and Chitra are enjoying a rest on the rocks near the falls. I had the challenge of zooming in with the camera and taking this photo through all the trees. Just a few branches in the way, I'm impressed with myself.

We came across a large group of very tame park deer. Eventually Brendan had to throw a stick in their direction just to get them moving. Before that though I got a couple nice photos of the deer while eating.

Last but certainly not least, here's Emily stricking a pose that was meant for my camera to capture, but since I did get it on film I thought I'd share.

10,000th Hit

2009-03-03T05:43:00.000-08:00

Several months after I began this new blog of mine (that's right I have an older one) I placed a counter on the blog. I had been hearing comments from my friends and family about my blog and was curious as to how often people came to read the blog. Since I'm more about statistical data and less about abstract comments I began the counter post haste.

I was surprised and a little unnerved, people came to the blog regularly. Before long a I had a thousand hits, then two thousand.

I was able to draw some conclusions from my data as well. The most obvious was that when I blogged more frequently more people came to the blog more often. Of course in that same vein when I blogged more infrequently less people came.

Now as I approach the 10,000th hit to the blog I'd like to have some fun. I'd like to have you come join my online party. Please leave a comment to this blog with your email address and name (just in case I don't know it). I'll print out the comments when I reach the 10,000th hit and draw 10 names from a hat. Those ten people will receive a party favor from me. Sound like fun doesn't it?

Just an Observation...

2009-03-02T12:00:00.000-08:00

Having grown up south of the city of Harrisonburg I always knew our home was firmly entrenched in the countryside. We didn't have to contend with the annoyances found in the city; the lack of privacy, the traffic, and the blacktop where grass should be.

It wasn't until I was eighteen and left my childhood home for Winnipeg, Canada that I first experienced city life. I was attending Canadian Mennonite Bible College at the time and between college life and city life I was far from any experience I had ever had to that point. I became use to all that the city had to offer, cultural events, shopping, and good public transportation. I still missed the peace and quiet of the country.

I'm twenty-eight years old, and in the last ten years I've lived in several cities, but I always seem to find my way back to the tranquility of the countryside.

The other day I drove from Sandal House (in the heart of Harrisonburg) to my home south of the city. The further I got from the city the more I noticed other drivers on the ride. That's when I made this observation. People are friendlier in the country. All these other drivers would nod their heads or wave to me. It felt great to be back where I was acknowledged as an individual again, and to step out from the crowd.

All I can say is I'm a country girl at heart and that's never going to change no matter how long I find myself living here in the city.

Monday Adventures

2009-02-23T17:33:00.001-08:00

My adventure began when I picked up my good friend Emily from her home to drive her to the Roanoke Airport. It takes about an hour and a half to drive the hundred plus miles from Harrisonburg to Roanoke. It's really a beautiful drive, atleast I think so. Then again I think any drive that takes you in a southern direction is nice :)

The trip was fairly uneventful from Harrisonburg to Roanoke. About ten miles from the airport we got off the interstate to check our directions to the airport. It was at that time that things got interesting. When I got back in my car and went to make a turn I heard horrid screaching noise coming from the vehicle. It didn't matter whether I turned to the right or the left, each time I turned the car made the noise.

At this point Emily and I took a chance and continued to drive the remaining distance to the airport. At the airport Emily got her tickets and knew she had several hours before she needed to be back at the airport to board the plane.

It was then that the only thing I had on my mind was getting my car looked at. Here I was though in a strange city with no idea where the nearest service station was, or if I could trust their work. Not far the airport I noticed a Walmart and their tire and lube station. I went there not to see if they could repair my vehicle, but to see if they could recommend someone who could.

They were very friendly there and easily pointed out a nearby Sears Service Station that could most likely help me out. It wasn't a far distance from Walmart to Sears, so I was thankful for that small blessing.

The gentlemen at the Sears Service Station in Roanoke were terrific. In a very effiecent manner they got my car examined and taken care of with time to spare before I needed to get Emily back to the airport. Luckily for me and Emily this particular Sears was attached to the Valley View mall in Roanoke. We spent the couple of hours it took to repair the car, looking through the stores and having lunch in the food court.

It ended up being a couple of belts that needed replacing on my vehicle. Thankfully for me it wasn't a major repair and didn't require a huge investment of my funds.

As I look back on the events of today I know I have much to be thankful for. I'm thankful for the perfect of timing of events, the safety of me and my passenger, and all the kind people who helped me along the way. It's amazing to me as I see the hand of God covering the adventures of this Monday.

I Should Have Listened...

2009-02-19T19:45:00.001-08:00

Here's a question for you to think on; has anyone ever told you something negative about themselves and your first reaction is to deny it as a nicety (or you really do just think they're being too harsh on themselves)?

I was thinking about that the other night when I turned on my t.v. to watch a late night movie, because I couldn't sleep. Whenever I do this little trick I put my t.v. on a timer, which automatically shuts it off after the designated period. I also usually put the t.v. on turner classic movies, because there is nothing like an old black and white to help me fall asleep.

On this particular night, the movie far from put me to sleep. It was one of my old favorites, "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." I've loved this movie since I was a young girl. Then when I was in my early twenties I met a guy who said it was his favorite movie from way back. Awww...how sweet...we both loved this classic, timeless movie, about a bunch of rough mountain boys running off and kidnapping their brides.

As it was, any time the movie came up in conversation between me and this guy he would quote a line from one of the movies many songs (it is a musical), "I'm a lonesome polecat." Now if you don't know a polecat is another old fashion term for SKUNK.

This guy of mine was referencing himself as a skunk. I mean he really identified himself as a skunk, going as far as to put the name in email addresses and screen names. It became a sort of nickname for him.

Oh, I should have listened to him. I spent the next several (I should say, way too many) years of my life telling him he wasn't a skunk each time it came up in conversation.

Now, after seeing the movie again and being reminded of this man I would like to declare, that yes you are a SKUNK. You've never picked bones about the fact, and I now understand why you identify with that animal.

I understand that for some this blog is fairly uncharateristic of me. I usually don't resort to name calling (though I don't know if this counts because he's the one calling himself the name), but here I am blogging about it nonetheless. You'll have to read this blog as a therapeutic rant and if you're still confused read this previous blog to bring you up to speed.

Over a month later I'd ask for your continued prayers as I heal from my heartache. Thank you friend.

Visiting the Old Order Mennonites

2009-02-15T18:38:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday I traveled outside my comfort zone and attended an Old Order Mennonite church. For the most part I was prepared for the visit by two Old Order friends of mine, William and Gerald. The day before the visit I called their home to get directions to the church and any last minute guidance of what to expect (didn't want to make a fool of myself). Gerald told me this, "...just don't go through the wrong door." HUH!?!

Okay, so I arrived at the church completely nervous and afraid I'd do something stupid like go through the wrong door. No worries though I managed to get through the right door :)

For those of you who aren't familiar with the Old Order Mennonites here's a website you might find helpful to fill in your gaps of knowledge.

Back to my experience. I arrived at the church in my car and was trying to find a inconspicious spot to park among the horse and buggies. After parking we were greeted by a couple that turned out to have a fairly close connection to my friend William. The wife, Sharon, offered to have me and my guests (one of the girls from Sandal House and her daughter) come sit with her. Sharon was the main reason we didn't walk in the wrong door :)

At the Old Order church all the women enter through one side of the church and the men the other side. Women all sit together on pews on their side of the church, and across the way is the men sitting in pews on their side.

The service was two hours long and I was completely distracted through the whole of it. The child we brought with us was only two years old, and had never had to sit quietly that long before. I was in a state of tension for most of the service trying to keep her well behaved.

After the service the ladies all went out their door and congregated outside together to visit. One side of the yard was a circle of visiting ladies and the other side of the yard was a circle of visiting men. Many of the ladies asked me what I thought of the service and I had to admit to not being able to get much from it due to the two year old. I decided at that point I wanted to come back one more time to atleast be able to know what it was they were sharing during the service. Next time no toddlers!

It Couldn't Possibly Be the Flu...AGAIN

2009-02-12T13:27:00.000-08:00

So, I spent the better part of last week lying in bed suffering from an extreme case of the flu. It had me in a fog for Wednesday, Thursday and a good half of Friday. I can't remember having the flu that bad for some years now.

Once you get over something like that you think to yourself, Okay I'm good now for the next couple of years. Like you've paid your dues, and it shouldn't be a problem again.

So yesterday when I woke up and my stomach felt a little off I didn't think anything about it. I figured that once I ate breakfast I'd start feeling better. But breakfast didn't help, in fact it only made me feel worse.

My next solution was to get out of the house and go for a walk. I thought maybe some light exercise would help me to feel better, because at this point I was still in denial that it might be the flu (I mean I just had it last week). I took my camera and I drove out to my favorite spot to take photos, Mt. Crawford (where I grew up).

I walked up and down Airport Road taking late winter early spring photos. The whole time I felt weaker and weaker. I finally decided a little too late, that I might be really sick and should get home. At this point I was very warm to the touch and I couldn't help but think I might be sick to my stomach at any moment.

Once in my car again and on my way home I had to stop several times and just close my eyes and rest. I felt so ill I didn't even want to be driving. Upon my arrival home I wearily made my way to my bed and collapsed. For the rest of the evening and night I was between my room and my bathroom.

So, there it is, I was sick with the flu, exactly one week after getting it the first time. This time I really as if I've earned a respite of atleast a couple of years. Though I can't be certain I'll get. If I'm learning anything it's that I must have a relatively weak immune system, because if one of the girls/toddlers brings home an illness I get it, EVERY TIME.

I thought I would share a few of my pictures from yesterday:

This photo is of a locked gate leading to the North River. Back when I was growing up there was never a padlock on this gate and people in the community came here to go fishing, canoeing, etc.

I love how this photo illustrates the ending of winter in the brown grass, and the beginning of spring in green.

A beautiful creek bed littered with the cardboard of a case of beer.

This photo pretty much explains itself. I took it because it caught my eye.

Just a fun angle on a bridge that I love to photograph.

Another angle on the same bridge.

Late Night Blogging...

2009-02-06T22:47:00.001-08:00

...Beware!!!

You never know what I might write when I'm blogging past the midnight hour. Tonight my sleeplessness is fueled by a Mt. Dew I had around 4 p.m. (the effects should have worn off by now), the added sleep I've had from my bout with the flu, and a nice long phone call from my dear friend Stacey.

Now I find that it's fast approaching the 2 a.m. mark and I'm still wide awake. I thought a little therapeutic blogging might help to put me to bed. So, let me take the time to catch you up on my life a little.

Since the start of the year I've been working solely at Sandal House. This has been a blessed time of rest in my life; it has helped me realize how burnt out I had become, and what changes I should be making not to become so exhausted again. I realize working a part time job at Sandal House is only a temporary situation, but God has met my financial needs through this job, while I explore my other employment options. I'm looking for a position in the financial industry and that has been a fun job search.

Even though Sandal House is part time employment, it often feels like a full time job. The teen mothers here keep me VERY busy. Each day holds a new challenge, and that's no exaggeration. I never know what to expect when I'm home with the girls, because they're constantly throwing me curve balls.

Through the experiences here at Sandal House I've learned a lot about patience, serenity, and having a positive outlook on life. God's challenged me through the girls, and has helped me to grow in many areas.

I realized this evening as I was talking with Stacey that I don't really blog about Sandal House that often. In truth, I probably never will blog much about Sandal House because I have the girls privacy to uphold. You'll just have to be content with my generic updates about how I'm dealing with Sandal House, and live without personal little stories or antidotes on the private escapades of the house.

Since the start of the year I've also entered a really good place in my life. I'm encouraged in my daily walk with the Lord. I'm content in my life, and I've found peace in my relationships.

I know that several weeks back I blogged about a deep hurt I experienced recently. I know many of you were praying for me during that week and since then. Thank you! I wanted to say that I really have been aware of your prayers and God's presence in that situation. Yesterday I thought of that person, only to realize that he hasn't been on mind rarely at all in the last several weeks. Instead of feeling any hurt, anxiety, or confusion in that situation, I've felt peace and assurance that the right decision was made and I'm moving on in life.

In the last couple of weeks the only frustrating issue I've been experiencing is computer related. I've been having terrible issues with my email. It seems that about half the emails I send out don't get to where they are suppose to go. For someone who handles most of lifes daily communication through email this is devastating. I'm working through the issue, and if you're one of those individuals awaiting my email I apologize and hope to have the kinks worked out soon.

This past week I had the flu for several days, and the only productive thing that came out of that experience was the eight pounds I lost through the "48 hour flu diet". If you're into agonizing stomach cramps and feverish chills I highly recommend the crash diet the next time you need to lose a quick 5-10 pounds.

I'm finally feeling restored to good health, and as I mentioned earlier a side effect of this flu is the abnormal sleep schedule it's brought about. So now in an effort to actually right my sleep schedule again I'm going to call it a night and try to get some sleep before my alarms wakes me up at 7 a.m.

Good Night!

The Gladys Show....

2009-02-05T13:58:00.000-08:00

If you need a good laugh check out this video.

Mt. Dew and a Post-it

2009-01-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

So, this evening I'm sitting here catching up on my blog reading. That's the time in my day when I sit at the computer, and see which one of my friends has been busily updating their blog for my enjoyment.

For each blog that I follow I've posted their link on my sidebar (right). For the most part the sidebar notifies me when an update to the blog has been made. It's simply an easy task of reading through the latest updates.

There is one exception to the update notification and that is my friend Brendan's blog. For some reason (completely befuddling me), it doesn't alert me when he makes an update. This would be very frustrating if it weren't for the fact that Brendan isn't interested in blogging with regularity. I can check his blog once or twice a month and know if he's updated.

This evening though I was in for a surprise, Brendan Blogged!!

Not only that, he dedicated the entry to me, so I'm returning the favor Bren :)

Here's the entry if you're curious.

In his entry Brendan mentioned that I encouraged him to drink Mt. Dew by purchasing some for him. He also mentions a note in which I point out that the Mt. Dew should be used "only in case of extreme need."

I need to set the record straight I did not write that note to Brendan (sorry to disappoint you Bren). That note (very same piece of paper) was written to me by my good friend Jake out in Utah shortly before I left for my move back to Virginia. As a parting gift Jake handed me a bottle of Mt. Dew and the very note Brendan mentions.

Jake knew I would be driving 36 hours in three days to make it back to Virginia, so Mt. Dew made a great gift. The note amused me so, that I kept it (it was on a Post-it) in my car for awhile. Then looking for something to write on for Brendan's Mt. Dew gift I took the Post-it note and passed it along.

Now, over a year later Brendan has triggered my memory and mentioned a note that has obviously traveled around a good bit and lived a very long life (for a piece of Post-it paper).

This whole episode of Brendan mentioning the note, that was actually written by Jake, also reminds me of how they were able to meet this past summer. Brendan flew out to Salt Lake City for work (oh I was so jealous) and had some free time in his schedule. He ended up attending a picnic with a good number of my friends (I was REALLY jealous). I was happy though that my Utah friends were able to meet one of my Virginia friends and my Virginia friend was able to meet my Utah friends (if only I had been there...can't tell that I was jealous can you?)

Here's a photo I've posted previously, but thought you'd might like to see again. It's of Brendan and Jake at the picnic this past summer (Gosh, I wish I had been there).

Passing on Traditions

2009-01-20T04:44:00.000-08:00

Several months back while I was staying the weekend with my Granddad he mentioned to me that he liked cinnamon rolls. I filed that tidbit away, telling myself that I would bring my Granddad some of my homemade cinnamon rolls the next time I came to visit. In the end I actually fulfilled that promise to myself before my next visit when I sent a pan of cinnamon rolls out to Highland County with my parents.

When my parents returned home later that day my Mom very diplomatically told me that Granddad liked the cinnamon rolls I made, but that's not what he had wanted. What my Granddad was after was an old-timey cinnamon roll, HUH?!? I love baking and consider myself knowledgable on the subject, but I've never heard of that.

Sure I had, my Mom informed me, it just happens to be the very thing I had growing up whenever my Mom had leftover pie dough from a pie making day. That was an old-timey cinnamon roll I said.

Here I had gone to the effort of making sweet yeast dough and letting it rise for hours, then letting it rise some more before I baked it. When the very thing my Granddad wanted was a simple pie crust rolled out rectangularly, covered with butter, sprinkled with brown sugar and cinnamon and then rolled into a log. We then take the log and shape it into a wreath like circle and bake for a half an hour at 350 degrees. The brown sugar cinnamon melt into this delicious syrup that is set off by the flakey pie crust, and there you have it, an old-timey cinnamon roll.

The photo is of a old-timey cinnamon roll that my Mom made few weeks back. This is the creation just moments before it went into the oven.

I'm Struggling...

2009-01-13T20:51:00.000-08:00

I realized today that it is fairly easy to "open up" on a blog if what you share with the public is causal life stuff (you know my standard blog entry). What's difficult is to openly lay before others the real life stuff that looks terribly ugly. And yet, that's what I feel lead to do.

What's so ugly about where I'm at right now is the gapping emotional wounds that have been inflicted. I want cleansing and healing for them, the last thing I would like is for them to become infected, but I'm still in a state of shock over the events.

To summarize a long and sordid tale I will say that I met up recently with an old friend of mine. We had been very close at one time, even having our own version of a relationship (there was often great physical distances between us that complicated the relationship). During our visit together some things were said and done that was okay for our past together, but not acceptable when I learned yesterday that he was dating someone and had been during our visit together.

I don't know what hurts more, that he brought me into that kind of situation, where I would be party to causing tremendous pain to another third party. Or that he's changed so much over the years that he didn't seem to find issue with his behavior. Even now, there is such a physical pain I experience when I write that last sentence.

Over the years I've known him, I've seen his relationship with the Lord take a wild ride; ups and downs and sharp turns along the way. Yet, I've always held hope and faith for him, that he would return to a sweet relationship with Jesus. Lately, I've been optomistic in our conversations, knowing that he was searching again. Then this happens. Now, the pain I experience is the shattering death of hope.

This isn't how it should be though. God is our hope and salvation. For that reason I want to hold onto hope that my friend will turn his life back to God. That he will stop looking into other relationships for the answers, into his work, or even the other many distractions that this world has to offer.

So, even though I feel pain now, I ask for it to be replaced by hope.

Also, I've come to the decision after these events that I'm more of a stumbling block to this man than I am a helper. That's not a position I ever wanted to be in, so I'm removing myself from the picture. I've told him how I feel, and forgiven what needs to be forgiven. Thus closing my involvement in his life. I pray that the Lord will use me outside of our relationship, and that one day I might hear all is well.

Thank you reading the ugly as well as the beautiful parts of my life. And for your prayers.

Long Absences Make the Heart Grow Fonder...

2009-01-06T09:35:00.000-08:00

...or in this case my readership just gets tired of waiting around for me to update my blog, and they go off in search of the "greener pastures" of more fruitful blogs.

And who can blame them, almost three weeks and not a chirp or squeak out of me. You'd think I hadn't anything wonderful to share from the holiday season. At the very least I could have posted messages wishing you all a Merry Christmas or a Happy New Year (which I hoped was had by all).

Nope, you didn't get any of that from me. And yet, if you're reading this post I have some hope that you haven't given up on my entirely in this new year.

So, I ask myself, should I make a New Year's resolution to blog more often? I think not, it would just end in disillusionment and frustration for us all (like most New Year's resolutions). Or should I promise to add colorful photos illustrating each post? Gosh, that would require me actually using my camera on a consistent basis, we know that's not going to happen.

This is what I can tell you if you're still hanging around reading my blog, I'm quite possibly the most fallible human I knowing. Just getting through each day takes the intimate knowledge that God is bestowing His priceless grace upon me. I'm also certain that if you enjoy reading this blog there will come times when I'll need your grace as well.

Welcome 2009 a Year of Peace and Grace!!

What the Trashbag Held...

2008-12-16T04:21:00.000-08:00

While in Highland County this past weekend, my one Uncle stopped by for a visit with my Granddad and I. He asked me to go out to his truck and bring him the trashbag that was in the back. The bag seemed a little heavy, but nothing unusual. It wasn't until my Uncle opened the bag and brought out a bear head with blood still coming from it that I realized what I was so closely holding.

I didn't get that first picture of the bear head resting on the ground next to the splattered blood all over the outside porch. It's too bad I missed that kodak moment :)

I was able to get these later photos. The bear was one that had been treed by hunting dogs and killed that morning, so it was nice fresh.

Here's a picture of my Uncle's dog, Red, with the bear's head. Red was one of the dogs that enjoyed the hunting expedition earlier that morning.

My Uncle wouldn't stand in front the camera to have his picture taken with the bear's head. He told me if I wanted his picture it would be the back end only...I complied :) Here's my Uncle picking up his bear head to re-bag. I've entitled the photo "Obstinate Uncle" I think it's very fitting :)

Weekend in Highland County

2008-12-15T14:03:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I spent in Highland County with my Granddad. I made sure to take my new camera along with me to get some pictures around the homestead where he lives. I also ended up showing my Granddad some of the new features on my camera, including the video. We took a video of him, so he could see himself on camera. I know the video was for him, but it came out as a wonderful memory for me. I thought I'd take some time to share it all with you. Say Hello to my Granddaddy Vance...

In Far Away Lands...

2008-12-09T10:52:00.000-08:00

The other day I was writing an email to a friend, and the subject of weather came up. Though that might seem to you tedious small talk, it was actually quite interesting to think about as I wrote my email.

You see my friend (Trevor is his name - Hi Trev!) happens to live in South Africa where the weather is nice and hot at this time as they enter Summer there (I know, it's hard to believe when we're entrenching ourselves in winter). He's out on vacation sporting T-shirts and bare feet, and I'm bundling up in various layers anticipating the first real significant snow of the winter season (that's right all you Utahans we haven't gotten any significant snow yet here in Virginia).

The whole weather issue got me think about other issues involving distance and far away lands. Not only can you have seasonal differences between the hemispheres, but there is also the varying degree in which you will experience the seasonal climates in your locale. Let's look at Virginia and Utah for example (great example since I've lived in both states).

First there is Virginia where the seasons are truly set apart from one another. You have a definite Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall, each lasting about the 3 month period that you would expect them too (for the most part). In opposition there is Utah with it's Summer and Winter seasons as I call them. In Utah Fall and Spring are reserved for a few days in between Summer and Winter that just easily pass you by. While I was living in Utah I hated the Spring season the most (where it is my favorite in Virginia). In Utah Spring is deceiving! One moment it's harsh winter with snow coming down all around you, then the next day the snow is almost all melted away at the temperature is 70 degrees or more. Don't get too comfortable though, the very next morning you'll awake to 8 inches of snow and more coming down by the minute.

Springtime in Virginia is lovely. You know that when Spring weather finally arrives in Virginia that Winter is behind you and Summer is a few short months away. In Virginia Spring is what a should be a nice transition :)

One unfortunate thing about Winter in Virginia is that we can often get the cold weather without getting the lovely snow. At least in Utah when the weather is cold there is snow to look at and enjoy playing in.

If you haven't noticed already it doesn't seem to matter where I live I can still manage to come up with a complaint or two about the weather. I'm afraid complaining about the weather is an inbred trait that I might never rid myself of, it comes with being raised as a farmer's daughter. At the present moment my complaint is that I'm not in South Africa :) Though I'm sure my desire to be there is not entirely weather related. I would just be interested in seeing more of the country that I visited at one time years ago. And you know me I can't sit still in one place too long, my mantra seems to be, MUST TRAVEL!

I mentioned earlier that I was thinking about issues involving distance and far away lands that were not related to weather. My other thought was about time zones.

The more global I become in my thoughts and my friendships the more I hate time zones. Times zones keep interfering in my relationship with others. The most hated time zone difference I experience now is the two hour difference between Virginia and Utah. Take last night for example, I called my friend Fou at around 8:00 p.m. his time and 10:00 p.m. mine, did not get him on the line. When he was finally free to talk and called me back it was 9:28 p.m. his time and 11:28 p.m. mine. Since I had been sleeping for about an hour at that point I remember groggily grabbing the phone and turning it off. Sorry Fou!

Trev is another example, the times we've chatted online haven't been often because it's usually near midnight his time while it is only around 5:00 p.m. mine. That seven hour time difference is a real killer.

The greatest time difference though is with my friend William who is living and studying in China. There you have a 12 hour time difference. Actually, that time difference isn't as bad as it sounds. At least when he is getting up early in the morning I'm settling down at my computer in the evening and vice versa.

Sorry, that this blog seems to be full of complaints. Most of you realize that I'm not usually a negative person. I usually manage to find the positive in most all things, so on that note let me end with this thought.

Come December 25th I'll be experiencing Christmas in cold, winter-like Virginia with a possibility of snow!! A WHITE CHRISTMAS!

Movie Night

2008-12-08T11:32:00.000-08:00

Last evening I spent at the Yoder Home watching the extended version of Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. It's not as if I haven't seen this movie before, so I made sure to bring with me some of my knitting (I've been knitting the same green scarf for what seems like forever), and my new camera.

I spent the first part of the evening taking candid and somewhat posed shots of my friends. Then before I left Brendan gave me a quick lesson on my new camera. I have a real respect for people who are able to pick up equipment and gadgets (before looking at the manual) and just know how it's too work. I'm not that technologically inclined, and that especially holds true with my new camera.

I've been working really hard trying to teach myself all the new features on my camera, and within a minute Brendan was pulling up screens on that camera that I hadn't even realized existed. So, Brendan if you're reading this blog I want you to go ahead and clear some time in your schedule for me. I need help!

Here are some of the photos that were taken last evening:

The three Yoder Siblings, Brendan, Stephanie and Kyle. Brendan is obviously aware of the photo I'm taking and is ignoring me with a smile. Stephanie is tired of my of my picture taking by this time and is giving me annoyed/murder-in-the-eye look. Kyle just doesn't care a whit that I'm holding a camera and just kept on doing his own thing. Go Kyle :)

Here is the gingerbread train that the Yoders made in the afternoon before the rest of the guest arrived. Pretty ain't it?

Same train just a different angle. Look at all that candy!

My beautiful cousin Rebekah who came to join us for the movie night. I don't think she liked this photo that much. I will admit the flash kind of funky.

Here's one of the photos that Brendan took in giving me my camera lesson. He was teaching me how to manual focus my camera for close up photos. Stephanie was blissfully unaware of the photo being taken as she continued to watch the movie.

As my photo taking skills improve on my new camera I'll be sure to upload the pictures for your enjoyment.

Pick-Up Lines...

2008-12-08T07:18:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up we always called our truck a pick-up. I don't know if that's a universal term or just a southern thing, or maybe just a Heatwole thing. Anyways, what I want to share involves a pick-up and a rather ridiculous pick-up line.

The other day I was walking around downtown Harrisonbug, when I came to an intersection I needed to cross. I noticed that traffic seemed to be stopped at the red light, but just to make sure I was not going to get run over by an over eager driver that might turn right on red I made eye contact with the driver. I noticed that he noticed me, and then I proceeded to cross the street.

I made it only a few steps when the driver in pick-up (see I told you this story involved a pick-up) started moving forward on me. He slammed on his brake about the same time I jumped back and looked at him.

What I saw was a 40's something guy, smoking a cigarette, and rocking out to country music in his rather large red pick-up. He smiled at me and winked.

My reaction was to roll my eyes and keep on walking, and as I walked on he yelled out the window at me, "Hey babe, it's cold out there why don't you get in my truck and I'll warm you up."

I don't know what was worse, his attitude that he could just say that to any old woman on the street. What if I hadn't been single? Or maybe it was the trying to get my attention by pretending to run me down and give me a near heatattack as he stops a very close foot from my person. Or maybe it was the assumption that I would actually listen to his absurd suggestion to get in his vehicle with him.

Well, I just kept walking not even looking back, but I have to say it was probably the all time low of any pick-up line I ever received. Little suggestion to all males out there, nearly driving your vehicle into a woman will not especially endear you to her.

My New Favorite Blog...

2008-12-05T10:53:00.000-08:00

If you haven't noticed my newest blog to the side bar to your right let me introduce you to Cake Wrecks. Some woman who shares my name and love for cakes, writes daily and posts pictures (that mostly are submitted by others), showing off the atrocities to the cake world.

Personally, I'm thinking of submitting a few of my doozies (trust me I've decorated some horrible cakes in my day). I think the topper would be the leaning Tower of Pissa that I unintentionally created. It was suppose to be a white birthday cake with fluffy whipped icing, 10 inches squared and 6 levels high. At the time of the request I knew it would be difficult, it turned out to be a disaster. Too bad I didn't take pictures of it :)

Well, if you want a good laugh, just go check out Cake Wrecks.

Salvaged Photo

2008-12-02T18:20:00.000-08:00

So, I believe I mentioned in an earlier blog that my old camera decided to die on me one day, and completely stop working. At the time it was incredibly frustrating because I was decorating all these cakes, and wanted to take pictures of them to share. I also had a few pictures on the old camera of a rather large cake I had made and I didn't know how I was going to get them off the camera.

Well, as of this evening I finally salvaged the pictures off the camera and I have one to share with all of you.

This cake was huge and took me many hours to make. If you're not from around my area you might be wondering what it's all about. I spelled out UVA (University of Virginia), by carving the cake. I airbrushed the cake with the UVA school colors and then I piped icing to give it a more finished and almost comic-like look (that's what I was going for). As you can tell from this angle the piping around the bottom border is even and straight. The piping along the top is uneven for a reason, giving it that "comic" look I was talking about. This is what they asked for this is what I give them :) By the way, the cake was chocolate!!

Thanks Ashton!!

2008-12-02T08:23:00.000-08:00

Today's post is a thank you to my friend Ashton Christensen out in Salt Lake City, UT.

Ashton is the son of my dear friend Stacey, and we attended church together out in Utah. A couple years back Ashton really blessed me (and I'm sure many others) when he shared with the church a powerpoint presentation he had created.

He had taken the song "Lord of Heaven and Earth" and put amazing photography to the music. To this day I still experience that sense of awe when I think of the spectacular display of planets and stars he shared, and that Our Lord really is the creator of ALL.

I still listen to that song quite a bit, actually it's one of my favorites. Every time I hear it, in my mind's eye I'm seeing those images again that Ashton shared. He really did share with us his gift of creativity and talent for technology that day, and it was appreciated. Thanks Ashton!!

Since I don't have Ashton's video to share with all you, I found another one similiar to his. Click Here.

New Experience...

2008-12-01T07:07:00.000-08:00

The other day my family went out to lunch in celebration of my birthday. A couple days in advance of this dinner my Mom calls me to say Dad had picked a restaurant he thought we might all enjoy, but I had veto power. I couldn't have been more surprised when my Mom said that Dad wanted to take us to Kyoto (a Japanese Steakhouse). My meat and potatoes Dad wanted to eat sushi?? I was thrilled.

Well, it turns out Dad was more interested in the teppanyaki cooking. I was more than willing to go along and enjoy my first teppanyaki experience. It would seem everyone in my family had been there and experienced the food before, even my parents. Here I am, with my love for the culinary arts, and I was the only one in my family who had never had teppanyaki before.

Now, for those of you who aren't aware of teppanyaki it's a style of Japanese food preparation where the chef cooks your meal before you in what can often be an elaborate presentation. Our chef was good, and his food was delicious, but he wasn't the chef that captured my attention during the meal.

The chef that kept me captivated for most of our meal was preparing food across the room for a large extended family. I first noticed him when he took the time to entertain the children at his section in a very amusing way. I noticed him even more when he started to encourage the children at this table to repeat the phrase, "Celebrate Jesus". Then he began to sing the song, "Celebrate Jesus Celebrate!" both in English and in Spanish.

As I became more engrossed the conversation happening at this table I was made aware that the family enjoying the meal had just come from church. Call me cynical, but I was in the restaurant business long enough to know a few wait staff that would talk "christianese" with church folks to get a bigger tip, these same waiters/waitresses you'd never find entering a church building.

I was put to shame though when I began listening to this chef talk about the book of Daniel. He told these children very vivid Bible stories and inserted different viewpoints and lessons into the stories (mostly for the adults present). This wasn't a person after a bigger tip, this gentleman sincerely and genuinely believed in Jesus as our Savior.

He was so passionate in what he shared (and how he shared) that there came I time in the course of the meal that I realized that the restaurant was really rather quiet. I looked around and noticed that it wasn't just me listening to this chef, it was everyone else in the restaurant too. WOW, what a witness!!

I pray that God gives me the faith and courage to be that kind of witness in my everyday life too.

New Camera...

2008-11-27T13:49:00.000-08:00

The following are my first photos with the new camera.

A smaller version of a larger chocolate cake that we made at Sandal House for one of the girl's Thanksgiving meals. The larger cake was for the Thanksgiving meal, and this smaller version I created to give to my family. The misshapen chocolate object you see at the top of the cake, is a cluster of chocolate roses (you can't appreciate them from this angle).

The beautiful red roses Emily Kate gave me for my birthday. Well, actually the guy on the gift bag gave them to me, but that's a great story Emily and I will keep between the two of us :)

Also, I took a picture of the beautiful flowers my five year old cousin Maddie picked out for me with the help of my sister Lora. Thank you Maddie and Lora, they're really LOVELY!!

Passing Away

2008-11-25T07:31:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here at my computer waiting for news on the funeral arrangements. My Grandma Vance passed away this morning at 8:25 a.m. It's a blessing to know she's with our Lord, and free of pain and her broken earthly body.

Before I become to morose in my writting I thought I'd take some time to share some wonderful stories of my Grandma with all of you.

You see, I grew up living about an hour drive over the mountains from my Grandparent Vance's (my mom's parents). I remember as a child making the trip out to see them atleast once every other month. I loved being out at their farm, nestled as it was at the base of this beautiful mountain. A spring lay nearby and a river wasn't too far from the house.

We use to go climb the mountain, and swim the river. Also, each summer we would go spend one week with our Grandparents (me and my siblings). This was a week for my parents to relax without us kids. I believe my grandparent's home was affectionately knicknamed "Camp Vance".

Grandma and Granddad spoiled us kids so. Grandma use to let us eat whatever we wanted, and when we wanted it, while we stayed with them. This of course led to an occassional upset tummy. I remember one time wanting to eat candy all day and then for dinner I decided to have some cream of mushroom soup. You can imagine what my Grandma did when later that night all that candy and mushrooms came back up, she called my Mom to pick me up :)

I remember as a child my Mom asking my Grandma to please not let us eat so much candy and to make sure we brushed our teeth. But to be honest Grandma didn't have the heart to tell her Grandchildren no.

Don't worry we didn't end up spoiled brats, atleast I hope not :) Grandma was so loving you wanted to be good for her.

When I first started spending the week with her I was uneasy when night time came. It was really the first time I had ever spent the night away from my parents. Grandma was great though, she had the children's activity books (a set that was like children's encyclopedias) and she would read me stories from the books and show me different craft projects we could do the following day. As she read to me, she would climb into bed and cuddle with me. I'll always remember how nice it was to cuddle with my Grandma before going to sleep.

Several years ago my Grandma gave me that set of children's encyclopedias. I look forward to reading those books at bedtime with children and maybe even my children someday.

Grandma loved to cook!! On those Sunday afternoons when we would drive out to visit Grandma and Granddad my Mom would make sure Grandma understood we were coming having eaten lunch already. If Mom tell her that, Grandma was sure to have the largest meal set before us that we had seen since the last time she set a meal before us. A typical meal for Grandma to prepare would be a couple of main dishes followed by half a dozen or more different sides, and then your choice of desserts. Less was not more with Grandma. MORE WAS MORE!! No one ever left her table hungry.

After dinner we would thank her for the meal, and her famous response was, "I don't know why you're thanking me, you barely ate a thing." This is of course after we had eaten one rather large plateful, followed by the second helping she made sure everyone took.

She also never forgot anyone's favorite food dish. She would make a special effort to have that dish on the table each time you were there for a meal. She knew I loved seafood, and especially crab, so she would make me this wonderful Crab Casserole. The following is one of her Crab Casserole recipes:

1 pound crab meat
12 saltine crackers - crushed
1 stick butter or margarine
1 teaspoon parsley flakes
1 teaspoon mustard
1 tablespoon worchestershire sauce
1 egg - beaten

Melt butter in dish - Add above - Sprinkle paprika - Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

I don't believe my Grandma ever knew a stranger. She was the most welcoming woman I've ever known. She had a real gift for hospitality, and I learned alot about how you treat someone in your home from her. She always gave of herself to spend time with others. She showed you hospitality through her food and her time. She would stop cleaning or any other task to sit and talk with you. She also made you feel welcome in her kitchen as she went about her work there. No matter what you knew she was listening and she cared.

I'm thankful that God saw fit to give me almost 28 years with her. She was my special Grandma!

Back in Time

2008-11-24T19:47:00.000-08:00

Today, I went back to my old blog (the one I started when I moved to Utah). I was searching for my Africa journals that I copied onto the blog back in 2005. That's when I got thinking how long ago 2005 was. Even longer ago was when I went to Africa (May of 2004).

With another birthday coming up, and having to face my new age (yet another year older). It's really got me to thinking about the past. Thinking about all the great times I had in my early twenties and now I'm hitting my late twenties and I just don't like it. There is something almost terrifying about getting closer to thirty.

I know rationally I shouldn't be fearful of thirty, but it does seem that was an age that always appeared so far off when I was in my early twenties, and now I'm almost running smack into it. How could time slip away so fast? Where did all my twenties go?

Well, I know I spent almost three years of my twenties off in Salt Lake City, Utah. If you want to read more about that time go on back to my old blog.

I believe the early years of my twenties were squandered away. Not in the sense I did anything awful with those years, I just never fully appreciated how wonderful that time was until it was gone.

So, now my mission for last two years of my twenties is to enjoy them to the uptmost, and never forget how precious is the gift of this time. Who knows someday I might be saying the same thing about my thirties? :)

Almost forgot...

2008-11-21T11:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday when I wrote my blog I intended to post a picture of the camera that will be taking my pictures from here on out.

I'm remedying that with this photo:

The new camera is on its way...

2008-11-20T12:17:00.000-08:00

...in 3 to 8 shipping days I should have my new camera. You know what to expect then...lots of pictures on my blog.

Previously, if you'll remember I didn't have time to post pictures, and then when I wanted to my camera went on the fritz. For the last several weeks I've been researching cameras trying to decide which one would fit me best (and my budget).

I came up with the Nikon Coolpix P80. It's on its way to me as I write this. Hopefully I'll receive it before the Holidays and I'll be able to take a lot of great family pictures.

A Discussion on Marriage

2008-11-17T06:55:00.000-08:00

The other night on Facebook, I came across a note one of my friends had written (not written to me specifically, but to the general public). This old friend, Richard, entitled his note, "A Mormon's Defense of Marriage between a Man and a Woman." The note was a well written, well thought out view of his and his church's (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) position on Proposition 8. He also addressed the attacks that have been made against LDS' buildings and member's property.

Since Richard posted his note, several of his friends have engaged the topic by leaving a variety of comments. I find myself going back to that post each morning to read where the conversation is going and the different view points. Reading the comments from both sides of the argument has piqued my interest to do some research on the subject.

I want to share with you all (atleast those of you interested enough to read this post) the research I've done, comments from Richard's post and subsequent comments from his friends regarding that post. Though, before I trudge through this heavy and murky topic I'd like to air out my own opinion, for I definitely want to leave no doubts regarding my own beliefs.

Without doubt, I believe the institution of marriage should be reserved for the uniting of one man and one woman. This is a moral belief that I hold, and not a bias based on ignorance or hatred. I choose to show love and respect to others, even if we're not in agreement on this issue, and my prayer is that you find this evident in my writing.

As I've been thinking this issue through, I've come to the conclusion that it has gone beyond just moral beliefs to the basic question, "Is marriage an institution of the church or the state?" In helping to examine that question let me digress just briefly.

I would say that a "marriage" today has a threefold obligation (again this is my viewpoint - you might disagree). First obligation is to the spouse in the vows made to one another as part of a marriage ceremony. Secondly (though as important as the first if not more), is our obligation to God in keeping our vows to our spouse. If we see our spouse as a gift from God that she/he is, we will honor His word in how we are to love and respect the gift He's given us. Lastly is our obligation to the state in form of marriage certificates, etc. I believe this last obligation holds the least consequence in regards to a marriage. It's more of a formality, such as birth certificates for babies are a formality to having a family.

So, is marriage an insituation of the church or the state? Being that our greater obligations are to God and our spouse, you understand why I would say that marriage is an institution of the Church. Now even taking a different approach and reviewing the history of marriage we still find the church as the main source of involvement in even it's earliest years. In fact, I would concur with Richard when he states biblically:

Marriage is an institution that was begun at the creation of the earth. When God created Adam and Eve, he basically married them together. “God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply.” (Gen 1:28) “And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone…[and] made he a woman…And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh…therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” (Gen. 2:18, 22-24) Marriage was set up before and government or any rule of law was ever in place, before there was such a thing as taxation, or visitation right; marriage came along, hand in hand with religion

In fact in my research I did not find evidence that the state required certain expectations of marriage until 1563:

There appeared to be many marriages taking place without witness or ceremony in the 1500's. The Council of Trent was so disturbed by this, that they decreed in 1563 that marriages should be celebrated in the presence of a priest and at least two witnesses.

I'll even admit that the previous example is weak considering the Council of Trent was a religious institution, though in an era and place of church and state, so I'll let it pass as a state required expectation.

I can understand why an individual might want the priviledge to enter into a covenant marriage, especially with the rights the state does afford to married individuals. Those same individuals need to understand that "the church" is trying to protect what marriage has always meant to us from the earliest form.

As one of Richard's friends wrote:

We think that extending the meaning of the word to include other "nontraditional" relationships does affect us. When I say that my brother is getting married in December, that means something very specific. Had Prop 8 failed, I would perhaps need to qualify that statement and specify what kind of marriage he's entering into. So how does same sex marriage affect me? It changes the definition of the word--a word that has a special (sacred) meaning to me. Hence the phrase "Protecting marriage."

I don't have an eloquent, well thought out, answer to the issue. I can only take the time to write my thoughts, and in this reiterate the thoughts of others. I appreciate that we are able to have an honest and respectful dialogue on the issue. What does bother me is the hate and violent acts that sometimes characterize these issues. Richard drew attention to some of these acts against his own church.

As myself a Mennonite and Richard a Latter-day Saint we won't always agree, but I appreciate that we could both have a respectful dialogue and remain friends. I believe we move forward in friendship despite our differences, and the same thing could be said in the other case. It just takes a good foundation void of violence and hatred to be built upon.

Well, enough of me. What are your thoughts?

As You Get Older...

2008-11-13T13:10:00.000-08:00

I've been hanging around a good number of teenage girls these days (I'd say it comes with the territory of being a house mom to a teen mother home). One thing I've been noticing when it comes to me and these teens is the difference in our perspectives on shopping.

For starters, I don't enjoy shopping. I'm usually overwhelmed with all the options and end up buying the first thing I really like and getting out of the store. I'm certainly not one for browsing, but I do need to feel like I'm getting a bargain. So, when I say I end up buying the first thing I like, that like factor has as much to do about price as it does how it looks on me.

One of the teens I know keeps bringing home to me our differences in shopping. Everytime she has a new item she mentions the price of the item (okay that's not unlike me). With her the larger the price tag the more pride she takes in the item. HA! I'm aghast at that kind of pride, for me I find satisfaction in being able to tell my friends how little I paid for a particular item.

I'm sure one of these days I'll play the following game with the teens: I'll have them go around to the stores showing me all these items that they like, then I'll go around and show them where they can get the same or similiar item for considerably less money. Yeah, we'll be bargain shopping then.

Oh My...

2008-11-13T06:16:00.000-08:00

...I broke a nail.

That's right I broke a nail, and instead getting all freaked out about it, I cut just cut down all my other nails.

A couple weeks ago I treated myself to a manicure and pedicure. This is a very rare thing for me. In fact I can probably count on one hand the times I've had either of those treatments done.

I was really pleased with the results, and especially the pampered feeling I had afterwards. The place I went even had special massage chairs to relax in while you were getting your pedicure, it was like a little bit of heaven on earth.

In the end my nails looked transformed. They were no longer the short, poorly taken care of, and often ignored finger nails and cuticles. They were beautiful, with a lovely color, and healthy look.

But then two weeks later I broke a nail. So, now they're back to being short and somewhat ignored, except the color has remained :)

In a really unusual way God used this experience to give me gentle reminder. Often times I get so focused on how I can be of service to God and others, that I ignore how God wants to restore me. Like my short nails; I often feel functional and good for a purpose, but as my nails show the wear and tear, so do I. God wants me to take time out, to relax in His presence, and to come away healthier and more beautiful from the experience. So, my reminder to myself today and all of you is to take time to pamper yourself with the Lord, even if it means just adding some color to your short nails (meant figuratively, but hey go ahead and paint those nails it's a great reminder to spend some time with God).

Weekend with Granddad

2008-11-12T03:49:00.000-08:00

My Granddaddy Vance (my mom's dad) lives out in Highland County, Virginia, about an hour drive over the the mountains from me. So, recently I've been going out to spend time with him one weekend out of every month.

It's always fun being with Granddad. At 90 years old he's a riot and manages to say and do things that have me laughing to myself for days after our visits. I know that years from now I'll look back on this special time together with very fond memories.

One memory I'm sure to keep for awhile took place this past weekend during our visit. Sunday morning I woke up to make our breakfast. It had been decided the day before that I would make Chip Beef Gravy on toast with some special chip beef that my only Robin had left Granddad (it wasn't until after I ate the gravy that I was informed that chipped beef was actually chipped venison).

Well, I made our gravy in my grandparents rather large cast iron skillet. Took the skillet from the stove to the kitchen table and we served our breakfast from it. After putting away some leftover gravy in the refrigerator we were left with some pan scrapings of gravy that my Granddad was pretty particular about, he wanted to save them for my uncle's dog when they came to visit later in the morning.

The time in the morning stretched on and my uncle hadn't come for his visit. I was getting anxious to get some work done, like feed the cats, and clean the breakfast dishes. Both of those things my Granddad wanted me to wait to do until my uncle came (I think he was wanting my uncle to help me with these tasks). Finally I told my Granddad that I needed to go ahead and finish the work so I could get ready for church.

The first item on the agenda was to feed the cats. My Granddad keeps a large supply of dry dog food on hand for his cats :) Talk about cats, they have close to 20 of them roaming around their farm land. When you take out their food to the back porch they all come running in a swarm. You can't really hold them because they're all wild, and would probably scratch you to ribbons. On this particular morning I saw some kitties among the group. One kitten was this light gray color and I thought it might still be young enough for me to hold it without it getting all crazy on me.

I safely picked up this precious kitten and took it inside to show my Granddad. He liked that kitten so much he told me to go ahead and let it eat the gravy scraps he was saving for the dog. I told Granddad I would take the kitten back outside and then throw the gravy scraps in the food pan for all the cats. Granddad wasn't hearing of that, he told me to go ahead and sit the kitten on the kitchen table where the skillet still lied and let it eat from there.

For those of you who know me and my view on pets, you know I don't think they belong in our homes and especially at our kitchen table. But there I was setting this kitten down to its breakfast. It being such a large skillett the first thing this cat did was to climb on inside the skillet to get the gravy scraps piled up on the one side.

If ever there was a time I should have had a camera it was that moment. Here was this beautiful gray little kitten curled up in a cast iron skillet, eating gravy scraps to its heart's content. Don't you wish you could have seen it too?

Tears Watering My Eyes...

2008-11-06T06:33:00.000-08:00

In the middle of my busy, hectic day yesterday I met one little four year old boy who made me stop and think, and also shed some tears.

This precious little child was born of a mother who abused alcohol and drugs during her pregnancy, and the effects are now for her son to bear. At four years old this little boy cannot put together a coherent sentence. Sure, he'll have a bright and lively conversation with you, but the words often don't make sense or if it is a word that is appropriate for the sentence it's badly pronounced. Mostly he talks nonsense words that aren't even in the english language.

From my short time with this little I could tell he was a sweet, beautiful child, who just loves to please others. He's very animated in his play, and has this amazing smile that just shines forth with joy.

I was so touched by this small child I wanted to share him with all of you through my blog. I also wanted to share with you an article I found online by the March of Dimes. Here it is, Enjoy!

If I Had a Bakery...

2008-11-05T12:11:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday morning I arose early to make doughnut dough for a pre-church service breakfast. What I forgot this past Sunday morning when I set my alarm was that it was time for the "time change" and clocks would be falling back an hour.

So, when I arose and went out the kitchen on Sunday morning at what I thought was 4:30 a.m. I was greeted by the satellite clock (updates automatically) in our kitchen telling me it was 3:30 a.m. Being that I'm not an early morning person I was tempted to go back to bed for an hour. I also knew that it I went back to bed for one hour I might not get out again until it was light outside, and that wouldn't be productive to making doughnuts.

I settled myself on the couch in the living room instead and turned on a movie. While watching the movie I did reach a point of half sleep, and it was then that I dreamed about having my own bakery. I would love more than anything to have my own bakery someday and create truly amazing breads and pastries. I just don't see it happening any time soon (I'm way too poor to have my own bakery - and not nearly experienced enough).

In my dream though I had my own bakery and it's name was "Sweet Imagination". I've been haunted by that dream ever since Sunday morning and I can't get that name out of my head. It was last night though as I was laying my head down to sleep, and thinking of the name Sweet Imagination that it came to where I've heard it before. It just happens to be similiar to a short phrase from the movie, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In the song they use the phrase, "pure imagination" so you can see how my mind just supplemented sweet for pure.

As a kid growing up that was one of my favorite movies. I guess even then I loved the creative side to food. Now if I could only have my own "chocolate factory" in the form of a bakery.

A Year in the Fast Lane

2008-11-04T07:05:00.000-08:00

October 31, 2008 marked a rather memorable anniversery for me. For it was on October 31, 2007 that I drove my car out of Salt Lake City, Utah and headed back east to Virginia. In 2007 that date fell on a Wednesday, in 2008 that date fell on a Friday (you can thank a leap year for the extra day). It just so happens that in 2007 after three full days of driving I arrived in Virginia on a Friday.

So, this year when Friday, October 31st came around it was both the anniversery of my departure from Utah and my arrival to Virginia. On that day I didn't know whether to be happy or sad, so I choose to reflect on the directions God's taken me in life.

That God led me out west to Utah to gave me the opportunity to be part of the community, I'm infinitely blessed by that experience. That God brought me back to Virginia to be part of my community of family members and friends, for that I am blessed.

I know without doubt that when I follow in the the Lord's leading I will experience His love and blessing. It might not always be easy, but He'll always be there.

Aviation Lingo and other things I don't understand...

2008-11-03T13:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday evening I was on my computer IM'ing with a friend of mine, Brendan. During the course of our conversation he mentioned that the company he works for Dynamic Aviation was missing a plane in Guyana (that's in South America if you're not too familiar with your geography).

Being that this was a typed conversation on what I refer to as Impersonal Messanger (IM) I missed out on the importance of what he was sharing with me. It hit me after our conversation that "missing plane" in aviation lingo means it most likely went down from the the air and they don't know where it is now. Not a good thing for those onboard the aircraft.

When I was having my conversation with Brendan being the eternal optomist that I am I thought what he meant was that a plane had gone missing from a hanger (more like stolen) and the company was out looking for it. Okay, so a stolen plane isn't the most optomistic thought, but it's a lot better than a crashed plane.

But back to the missing plane, there were two local guys onboard and one person likely from Canada. At this time I haven't read or heard anything to say that they've found them or the plane. Please be in prayer for them, their families and friends. We don't always understand why events like this take place, but we can know that God is always in control and loves us unconditionally.

If you're interested in the latest news at this time (at the time I'm writing the post) please follow the link below.

http://www.whsv.com/home/headlines/33750754.html

Obama Came to Visit...

2008-10-30T07:18:00.000-07:00

That's right, Obama came to little ol' Harrisonburg, Virginia on Tuesday and caused quite a stir. He spoke at James Madison University, which happens to be only a few miles from where I work and live. So, I did my part of staying out of the way. I didn't want to deal with the crowds or traffic.

At lunch I stayed in the office, not even attempting to go out on the town and run errands. And then at the end of the work day I took a different route home in an effort not to get tied up in traffic. I almost succeeded there.

It was on my way home from work when I was stopped at an intersection that meets with one of the exits leaving JMU, that I got my first taste of the madness the event created. There was a man in a suit and tie (very respectable looking) carrying a flag (not American - though I didn't recognize it) running around the intersection yelling, "Down with Obama. Down with Obama."

Wow!! Talk about crazy. He was arrested in short order, and removed from the intersection. The traffic resumed it's normal patterns and I made my way on home. Fortunately for me I get to take away a terrific memory of the time Obama visited my home city.

Where do I begin...

2008-10-28T06:08:00.000-07:00

So, much has happened between now and the last time I wrote a post. Being that so much has taken place, you would have thought I had a lot to blog about in the last month (which I did), but there wasn't time in time in the day to do the writing required.

I received an ever so gentle reminder from my dear friend Stacey that she missed hearing from me, so here I am dragging myself to the keyboard in an effort to catch you all up on my life.

Let's start with work, I'm still with Ameriprise and working on the end of the year projects, which occupy a lot of my time.

Sandal House is always an ever present challenge/reward in my life. We've had some comings and goings at the house, and that always disrupts the schedule and takes more time on my part. I'll be happy when one day we have three permanent residents in place and have established a routine to our days.

I'm enjoying "church life". Some exciting events are taking place in our fellowship at Weaver's Mennonite and I'm thrilled to be serving in various roles there. Recently I've become involved as the director of Missions and Service, the Sr. High Sunday School teacher, and working towards developing young adult ministries. Again, each area has it's own challenges and rewards, and I'm still working at how exactly God would like me to share my gifts in these different roles.

My family is going through some adjustments. In the last couple of months my parents have begun work on their new home. While they are awaiting it's completion they've been living in a house in Dayton, that's about a ten minute drive from where I live. After all these years of living in Utah, it's nice to live so close to my parents and be able to visit them on a whim.

My sister, Lora Beth is still living in South Central, Virginia in a rural/small community. She's been working with WIC and soon to be a licensed dietician. She recently got back from a vacation in Mexico and I look forward to hearing all about it.

My brother, Brent moved to North Carolina this summer and everything seems to be going well with him. He wanted an evening job, so that he could be near his computer during the stock market hours, so he's working as a valet. I think as a guy he really enjoys being able to get behind the wheel of some pretty fancy cars.

I've been thinking of my grandparents a lot recently. I have three who are still living, but not in the best of health. My grandmother Heatwole is living in a nursing home near where I live. I visit her when I can, but she really doesn't remember me. She has dementia, and I know it will be a blessing when the Lord calls her home. My grandmother Vance is also living in a nursing home about an 1/2 hour drive from me. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer this last year, and has also suffered some strokes. It's difficult to watch her go down hill like she is. My granddad Vance is still living in his home in Highland County (about an hour drive from me). I've recently begun spending the second weekend of every month with him. Visiting granddad is something I look forward to each month. He lives in the quiet, peaceful, rural mountains and solitude is a real blessing in my life. Plus, my granddad is a riot, it's a lot of fun talking and hanging out with him.

Next in my life comes my friends, who are wonderful!! I feel so blessed to have such loving, supportive friends in my life. I really enjoy spending time with them, when times allows. One of my favorite activities is hanging with the Ladies Biblestudy, such wonderful woment in that group. I also enjoy the random moments we get together, like this past weekend when Emily came over for "girl talk" and we ran out for her very first slurpee (okay, she's 27 and had never had a slurpee, that wasn't right and we corrected it).

I also enjoy spending time catching up with old friends over the telephone (because unfortunately I don't have time to fly all over the country to visit them). This past weekend I spent a good amount of time catching up with some of the guys in Utah. I love those guys, and it was great having some heart to heart's with them.

So, that leads me to what I'm doing in my free time. What free time you might ask :) I do get some, and I'm using it to enjoy some of my favorite activities. Most recently that's involved cake decorating. I love the creative outlet it's giving me, plus I just love feeding people. Actually, I've been decorating so many cakes for people here of late, I feel like I've started up a side business quite unintentionally. I haven't been posting photos of the cakes here on my blog, because unfortunately my camera has decided to die on me, and since I haven't gone shopping for a new camera, well no photos.

That's my life in a nutshell. Hope you enjoyed the general review. Contact me some time if you want the specifics.

Encouraging Thoughts

2008-09-30T12:49:00.000-07:00

During the weekdays I receive an email each morning from Proverbs 31 Ministries. The email contains these wonderful devotionals geared towards women of all ages and life experiences. It's interesting that though their ministry is a broad based one, I find myself relating to the messages more often than not.

This morning's devotional for instance really got me thinking about recent events in my life. I thought I'd take the time to share with each of you my story (and then the devotional just for reference).

What I've been struggling with recently was actually something that started well over a year ago (more like a year and a half). I had come the decision after much prayerful discernment that God was leading me out of Utah and back to Virginia (where I had grown up). At the time of that decision I believe God put several events into motion that lead me to a job opportunity in Virginia. The only problem with that job was I would need qualifications that went beyond what I received in college. It would require me to pass several licensing exams. I didn't have a problem with studying and taking tests, I mean how hard could they be?

It turns out they were VERY difficult. Over a year after taking the first licensing exams and failing, I passed the Series 7 financial exam on my fourth try yesterday. Had I known all the suffering and hundred's of hours of studying that it would take for me to accomplish this feet I might have given up before I even started. Well, I take that back I wouldn't have said an outright "NO" on God's leading, but like an Israelite child of old I would have done some major grumbling.

As part of my story to share I'd say the Series 7 exam became what the following devotional calls a G.F.I. (God Faith Interrupter). I would study and work diligently toward passing, but then each failure threw my faith momentarily. I couldn't understand why God would lead me in a certain direction only to allow me to fail continuously.

The whole experience was discouraging, humbling and now worth every moment. My encouraging word for you all today is never stopping following faithfully and obediently where God leads you despite how difficult it might become.

Like I mentioned the following is from the devotional sent from Proverbs 31 Ministries:

I pulled in the driveway grateful to be home after a five-day conference. I pressed the remote and the garage door rolled open. Bloodied water trickled toward me as I stepped from my car. I knew immediately what had happened - the freezer had gone out. All the meat had thawed and the bloody, watery juices had drained out of the freezer into a maroon stream that slowly ran toward the driveway. Yuck.

Mark, my husband, was out of town. I stood in my garage disgusted and slightly freaked out. Of course, I called my husband for help. I didn’t care if it was late and there was a three-hour time difference between us.

He patiently said, “Check the G.F.I.”

“The what?”

“The ground fault interrupter. It’s in the electrical outlet where the freezer is plugged in.”

Sure enough, the G.F.I. had tripped and in response the freezer shut down. Nothing was technically wrong with the freezer, except now it had hundreds of dollars of rotting food sitting inside it. Because of a tripped G.F.I., my evening turned from one of anticipated relaxation to hours of vexing cleanup.

Isn’t our faith sometimes like that, too? We are believing and trusting the Lord, when all of a sudden something unexpected happens – our own G.F.I (God Faith Interrupter) gets tripped. In response, our faith shuts down and we melt like a gallon of vanilla ice cream in a hot garage.

It’s certainly difficult to understand the twists and turns in our journey of faith. When a God Faith Interrupter occurs, we grope in the darkness for something to reassure us that regardless of our circumstance, the Lord is loving, merciful, and He will guide us. God Faith Interrupters might shake our faith. They can be scary. They certainly will be unexpected and uncomfortable, but the Lord holds the charge of power to uphold our faith even when it shuts down temporarily. We must turn to Him.

Express to the Lord your fear of a “God Faith Interrupter” tripping you up. Then thank Him that He will be with you, showing you mercy and loving-kindness, no matter what happens in the days ahead. Then resolve to stay plugged into Him, no matter what.

Bikes and Buggies

2008-09-24T06:56:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post I'm much to busy to be taking pictures all the time, so I'm resorting to filching them from my friends :) These latest photos were taken from Teresa Crawford's facebook page. Teresa is the mother of Jessica, who I went to school with, and their family lived just down the road from us.

I love these photos she took (I'm assuming she took them). These photos exemplify much of what I love about the Shenandoah Valley. There is a quieter more peaceful pace to life here. Community and relationships take precidence in daily living. And just look how beautiful the scenery is :)

I'm enjoying being back in a community where the Old Order Mennonites live side by side those who do not practice as they, but where we can all live with respect for one another and our differences.