a bit of history

GG’s books

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Today I cleaned my kitchen.  It had a layer of goo everywhere.  I’ve been blaming it on my children because they create goo.  But, today I had enough.  The grime had to go.  I scrubbed, I polished, I shined, I wiped, I swept, I mopped…  My kitchen was sparkly for about 2 minutes.  And then I had to make dinner.

During my cleaning extravaganza I decided to sift through all of my magazines and cook books.  I purged quite a few Southern Living and Better Homes and Gardens from 2006 and 2007.  Looking through everything was like piecing together my culinary history.  I have quite a sordid past.

There were several seasonal Pampered Chef recipe booklets from 1999 and 2000, a lot of “Everyday Food” from 2007, old church cookbooks, some specialized cookie and Christmas baking books.  There’s my collection of Better Homes and Gardens and Betty Crocker anthologies – you know the binders with the red and white checkered covers…  And more recently, my book on purees, my artisan bread book and “This is not your Mother’s Slow cooker” cook book.  But there was one that I was happy to find…

My GG’s handwritten booklet of favorite recipes.  As I leafed through it, I was misty.  Recipes of all kinds – in her handwriting.  Okay, I wept.  This week is the anniversary of when she went to be with Jesus and her beloved husband. I still miss her terribly.  I was thirteen when she left ; a big hole formed in her absence.  Finding her recipes today helped to fill that hole just a bit.

There are two other important books that I managed to keep for myself that belonged to GG.  One was her anthology of Longfellow poetry and the other was her personal Bible.  I have tried to read the handwritten notes in her Bible to gain wisdom from her own personal thoughts –  its  hard to decipher.  But, with one look at the Bible itself – I don’t have to  wonder if she spent time in God’s word.

GG left quite a legacy behind for all of us who loved and knew her.  She loved God and her family.  Her sense of humor always had us in stitches.   She taught us to behave without speaking an angry word.  And she could make the best cinnamon rolls from scratch that you have ever eaten.  Even in her later years she would quote poetry without hesitation and she did the daily crossword from the paper.  What a heritage I have from her…

And now – twenty two years later I can’t help but wonder… What am I leaving behind for my children, grand children and great grand children?  Will they know of my love for the Savior?  Will they remember me for my gentleness and my sense of humor?

I don’t know the answer to any of these questions.  But I know my Heavenly Father’s answer.

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.     Psalm 100:5

This is His promise.  I can see that now – from GG, to my grandparents, on to my parents and now on to me.  He has been so merciful to our family and I believe He will continue, no matter who I become.    I don’t know if I will be just like my GG, but I can hope…  from the books and memories she left behind for me, I have a bit of work to do.    Especially on the cinnamon rolls!

I will sing of the LORD’s great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations. Psalm 89:1

who knows?

35 and counting…

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Last night I realized it was happening when I went outside to look at my dahlias.  I’ve been caring for them all summer, nursing them along through the heat in a small bed out in the front yard.  I went out to say my goodbyes.  My guess is we’ll turn their bed over this weekend.  Autumn has arrived…

Right now I’m embarking on my 36th fall.  Thirty five summers, falls, winters and springs have come and gone.  It seems impossible.   But this fall is different.  I’m nostalgic and yet I’m anticipating life – all at the same time.  Its a bit unsettling.

There are so many things to be thankful for.  Its remarkable how good God has been to me and my family; so many accomplishments that we can account for, so many blessings – all from His hand.   But, at 35 I sense change, some easy and some a bit more difficult.

What’s so different than at 25?  Well, eleven years no longer qualifies me as a newly wed.  I’m the mother of 3 children now and they are growing up at the speed of light.  Soon I’ll just be “Mom” instead of “mommy.”  I don’t fit a speck of the clothes that I owned 10 years ago.  I have the beginnings of crows feet and laugh lines on my face, which I purchased special makeup last weekend in order to cover. I’m a stay at home mom who bakes bread, home schools and has a garden.  My musical tastes have changed and I write a blog.  Its all so different now than what I expected when I was 25…

On the other hand there are so many things to look forward to at 35.  More sleep is at the top of my list. (I’ll be all set just as soon as Mackenzie puts it at the top of her list…)  There will be less shoe tying and more bicycle riding. I’ll gladly say goodbye to dirty diapers and their god-forsaken pail when the time arrives.  And I can’t wait to have a date night with my hubby that doesn’t require a fortune spent on baby sitting.

I’m sure there will be things much more complicated at 45 and 55 to think about, like driver’s ed, college admissions, menopause, AARP, aging parents and well this list could be really overwhelming as I start to think about it, so I’ll keep to my anticipating for now.  Those things will be worried about enough when the time comes.

With the start of my 36th year, there is a new beginning. Its the option to start fresh and embrace this life.  I’m sure I have no idea what to expect.   But for this one thing:  I know I have a Heavenly Father who will see me through all of it.

My favorite Alison Krauss tune says it well:

“In The Palm Of Your Hand”

If I could have the world and all it owns
A thousand kingdoms, a thousand thrones
If all the earth were mine to hold
With wealth my only goal

I’d spend my gold on selfish things
Without the love that Your life brings
Just a little bit more is all I’d need
‘Til life was torn from me

If I should walk the streets no place to sleep
No faith in promises You keep
I’d have no way to buy my bread
With a bottle for my bed

But if I trust the One who died for me
Who shed His blood to set me free
If I live my life to trust in You
Your grace will see me through

I’d rather be in the palm of Your hand
Though rich or poor I may be
Faith can see right through the circumstance
Sees the forest in spite of the trees,  Your grace provides for me…”


The past 10 years have been unusual and wonderful in so many ways.   I know that I can look ahead to the future, no matter what season I’m in and be confident that my Heavenly Father has already taken care of everything.  This is the joy and peace I have at 35 and counting…

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

reflections from the beach pt. 3

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(originally written June 3, 2010…  yes, its been a hectic day, so I’m posting this for now – but there are fresh thoughts brewing…  will post them soon!)

I’d be lying if I told you there wasn’t a hard part about going to the beach. It begins with the word swimsuit. I’ve never really liked donning a swimsuit, but what’s a girl to do at the beach?

My sister brought me a lovely coverup – a cute little dress and I actually enjoyed wearing it. But at some point, if I was going to swim I had to wear a bathing suit. This means coming to terms, once again with myself. I am a mother of three children, whose shape reflects this fact. I continue to work at being healthy and I regularly exercise, but I am confident I will never look 21 again.

Why is this a problem? I would like to be like the other beautiful people at the beach. Slender, unafraid to step out in their swim clothes, their hair perfect, sand does not stick to their wet flip flops – they are a walking utopia for me…

You see, as I hard as I try, I am continually brought to my knees on this point: My beauty as a woman has absolutely nothing to do with how I look in tankini. The Lord knows how much time I have spent discussing this with him. I would prefer to have someone else’s body – but this is not what is supposed to be so elevated in importance to me.

There are people who laugh at this, but I believe it is true: To be beautiful on the inside is what the heavenly father seeks first for me and that is what is important. I know that because of His work in my life, I am becoming a beautiful woman. His desire is for His fruit to blossom and grow, creating a most beautiful creature by His hand. Anything else, inside or out is only a counterfeit.

Does this mean I give up on the temple He has given me? Absolutely not. I have every intention of making healthy choices and being as physically fit as possible. But my desire is to be comfortable in my own skin, no matter where I am in the process.

More importantly I want to value what my Heavenly Father thinks of my inward beauty over what the world sees in my outward beauty. Wow is that hard for me. But, as I sat on the beach I was able to reflect on what He sees. I am far more patient with my children than I used to be. I am learning what it means to treat others with love and respect. He and I together are making strides towards the beauty He desires for me.

Proverbs 31: 30

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Heavenly Father,

Help me to see from your point of view when I look in the mirror. When it comes to beauty, remind me once again how beautiful I am and how much you love me, no matter my size or how my bathing suit looks… Let me walk in this confidence alone!

m

who knows?

gift expectations…

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So, it’s my birthday today…  well by the time you read this it will be yesterday… but for right now – the celebration is ongoing.  My husband has spoiled me this weekend with jewelry, some clothes, a trip to Atlanta on Friday that included lunch at Maggiano’s and a very large piece of cheese cake.  He did piles  of laundry and the biggest surprise of all – a new Emile Henry pie plate.  Its green and white porcelain.  I am in love.

Its really about pumpkin and pecan and coconut cream, just to name a few.  This was a gift filled with expectations.  There ARE strings attached to my birthday pie plate.

Not long from now we will take part in the biggest birthday celebration known to mankind.  Its the birthday of Jesus.  He came as a tiny baby, God’s gift to us.  But His birth was highly anticipated.  The people of Israel had been waiting and foretelling the arrival of the Messiah for many, many years.  Certainly there were expectations.

Not many understood His destiny, but He knew his life would be required.  It was the greatest gift, given for the whole world.  Through His death, burial and resurrection salvation was provided for all.  Let me be clear on this point:  it is a gift that can not be earned.  There is nothing to be done, other than repent and receive.

Ephesians 2:8&9:  For by grace are you saved through faith and that not of yourselves.  Its is the gift of God, not of works lest any man should boast.

Amazing  – this is the present from our Heavenly Father, wrapped in love and tied up with bows of grace and mercy.  But, I’ve been thinking.  It seems that, while it is received by faith, maybe there are some expectations…

Ephesians 2:10: For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

When I was a teenager, I remember hearing someone preach, “This is God’s gift for you.  Free of charge.  No strings attached.”  And I don’t really believe that last statement is true anymore.  It is a free gift.  There’s no way to work enough or  to be sinless enough to gain it.  But….  Ephesians 2:10.

Truly, I have to remind my heart daily of this:  His sacrifice on the cross, deserves nothing less than what He desires.   He created me with specific good works in mind that call for sacrificial living.     And how can I really give him anything less?

I can’t.   Oh, its disgraceful how often I offer Him much, much less. But even then, in my selfishness He speaks to my heart.  With lovingkindness He draws me away to a secret place where once again He plants the seeds of good works in my heart.  He gently reminds me of the things that He has called me to do.

The gift of love that He has given me has this expectation:  that I will love Him in return with my whole life.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for celebrating my 35th birthday with me today, reminding me of this beautiful gift You have given. Let me live as an expression of love for you.  amen.

a bit of history

a boggle kind of life

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In the summer of 1984, I think that’s right, yes, the summer before I turned nine, we spent several weeks with my great grandmother in Iowa.  GG, which is what we affectionately called her, introduced my sister and I to a game called Boggle.

There was no tv at GG’s, and so we played games like I Spy, Hide the Thimble and Boggle for literally hours on end.  and we picked strawberries out in the enormous garden.  But, its Boggle I still play to this day.  Oh, I get such a thrill in the race against time, searching for as many words as possible – Its addicting, I tell you.  like dove dark chocolate.

In fact, I just finished a round with my sister.  After all this time we still love to play even though we live more than 8 hours apart.  Thanks to technology we just challenge each other over our phones with a Boggle app – and  we can toss in a little “trash talk” at the end.  It really gets the game going… all with sisterly love, of course.

Sometimes it seems like my life is a lot like the game of Boggle.  Just when I think I know whats going on, there’s a shake up.  Everything gets tossed around and then, I have to start over, trying to make sense of things.  I find myself searching for answers regarding my past, hoping for direction for my future.  But, once again time’s up and the re-arranging continues – new words, new ideas, new circumstances and lots more questions.

The older I get, and I am getting older this week in fact, the more I realize that nothing is certain.  There is one exception:  God and His Word does not change.  In the middle of my confusion, He is constant. The answers to my questions, the tour guide, the recipe, the flash light, if you will – He is all of these things for my life…

Here’s the rub.  I am a person who likes to find my own answers.  And that is a problem.  In this kind of Boggle life I’m living, I’m terrible at remembering :  I am not the answer to my questions. Anything that tries to tell me otherwise, well – that is only “trash talk.”

My search can only be satisfied one way.

from Psalms:

“Your Word is a Lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”

from Proverbs:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths. ”

Sometimes He provides enough light for the next step on my path.  But, sometimes He shines like a bright light that illuminates my night as if it is day. It can come over me slowly and quietly like a beautiful morning’s sunrise. Or it may burst on the scene boldly like an unexpected epiphany.  But, whatever He provides is enough for the moment.   And there is peace for my journey, when I step into that light, that is beyond any comfort I can conjure up on my own.

Lord,

Give me the courage to be dependent on You, rather than searching in the dark on my own.  There’s no way I can find my way alone.  When my life is turned upside down with questions and cares, keep my eyes focused on You and the way You are leading me.  Help me to walk in the light that only You can provide.

amen.

If you’ll excuse me, I just got a text from my sister… I’ve got a Boggle score to settle…

md

friends and loved ones

reflections from the beach pt.2

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(originally written June 6)

Sand. There is a lot of it at the beach. Typically I love sand – the feel of it between my toes and how it gives my feet the best massage, not to mention how well it exfoliates. The clean up can be messy with three children – even frustrating, but overall it is so worth it.

My children enjoyed playing in the sand with their cousins. They dug holes, built castles and buried each other. Mackenzie mostly just ate the sand, despite my efforts to keep her from it. Sand is a great toy and we loved playing in it. While watching from a distance, I was reminded of something significant.

At one point my son was attempting to dig and build near the water where the waves were sweeping in to shore. Just as he would get a new gully emptied out, the water would crash in and fill it up, or wipe it out altogether. What I found so interesting as I looked on was, he just kept going. He didn’t move his position, but instead he was steadfast and kept digging, all the while the water was undoing all of his work. No matter what he did the outcome was the same.

Sand is shifty – it changes when water comes around. Of course I’m reminded of a story…

Matthew 7:24-27

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

There are many diversions in my life. Most of them are sand. I foolishly try to build my life on them, but in the end they are swept away.

Just when I think I’ve found something worthy to use as a foundation I find it useless, unsteady. A healthy lifestyle seems appropriate, until a young friend who is the picture of health is diagnosed with cancer. My family and my home are an easy place to begin, until I see another family torn apart by sin and divorce. They seem good, but they are really just sand.

The truth is this: the only foundation I can build on with confidence is Jesus Christ. In some ways it is so uncomfortable. I want to construct my life around tangible things, things that this world finds important. But those things that seem so right, are also the very things that can be altered by this world. No matter what I build, or how tightly I try to hold on, it will slip from my grasp in a moment. Only Jesus is a solid foundation.

“On Christ the solid rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand,

All other ground is sinking sand.”

who knows?

arms up!

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Over the summer I had a membership to the YMCA.  It was a really great experience because I met a trainer there.  This particular trainer helped me to plan great work outs and  started me down the road to fitness.  I loved it.  Except for one thing.

There was one exercise in particular that I loathed.  It was with weights – and it killed me.  every time.  The trainer would push me to my very limit – and if I let my arms down too soon, well – that meant we were doing a lot more.  Of course, as my trainer he was there if I needed help, as my spotter.    The whole thing was so good for me.  I loved it and I hated it.

Our pastor spoke on Sunday about Moses.  We reviewed the story of how he held up the rod during the Israelite’s battle with the Amalekites.   If he lowered the rod, the Israelites would start to lose, but if he kept the rod up, they would continue to win the war.  Eventually he needed help – spotters, if you will to help him hold up his arms.

My every day life at home is like this sometimes.  Combat on the home front is raging.  Day to day expectations for victory are very heavy.  Lifting alone can push me to my limits.  I can’t do it.  I need a spotter.

When I’m in the middle of warfare and I don’t know what my battle plan should be, He does.  Jesus himself intercedes on my behalf before the Father.  When I don’t have the strength or the understanding of what to do next,  when I’m about to let my arms down, He lifts them up.  He continues when I cannot.

from Hebrews:

“24 But because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. 25Therefore he is able to save completely[a] those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.

26Such a high priest meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens.”

from Romans 8:

“26In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. 27And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.”

How invigorating to know this:  There is someone holding up my arms in the middle of the battle.  I am not alone. I do not have to depend on my own power.  I have a “spotter” who has unending endurance and knows my exact need!  Thank you Lord!

md

who knows?

Ice cream money

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It was Thursday afternoon.  My kiddos were spending the afternoon with their grandparents. I had picked up some lunch and I was on my way downtown to teach piano lessons.   This is what  my Thursdays typically looks like.

Often this is my opportunity for a little treat.  If I get everything set up in time, I once in a while will walk down the block for a bit of frozen yogurt.  This particular day was hot and I was looking forward to it;  I had saved back a little cash just for this occasion.

As I pulled into the parking lot of the church where I teach, a woman approached me.  She walked with a limp, her hair was matted, and the few teeth she did have were decaying.  As she came closer, it was apparent that she had not had the privilege of bathing in quite some time.  My initial reaction was to bolt.  I wanted to run away, to pretend that I didn’t see her.  But my feet were glued to the place where I was standing.

She started talking.  Something about she hadn’t eaten in a while and needed some money, could I spare a few dollars so she could buy something to eat?  Now, normally I don’t carry any cash.  ever.  We are a debit card kind of family.  But today – there was ice cream money.  And of course she didn’t know that, but I did.  And He did.

While she continued talking, trying to tell me her situation, I had another conversation. with Him.

“Really, do I have to give my ice cream money to her?  really?”

“Would you give Me your ice cream money?”

“That’s not fair! Of course I would give You the ice cream money.  I love you!”

“You’re supposed to care for her too…  ”

Why was this so hard?  I know the Scripture.  Jesus asked us to share our blessings with those less fortunate.  And when we do that, we are actually caring for Him.  But, it was not sinking in so well here on the street with this woman…I dug in my purse, fished out the three one dollar bills and handed them to her.  She said things like God bless you, thank you and that kind of thing.  I just stood there in a haze and watched her move across the street.

Since then I’ve thought about it a lot.  I’ve wondered what she possibly could have purchased with my three bucks – did she get some water or some packets of crackers from Wal Greens?  Its not like she could go buy drugs or cigarettes with that money – she didn’t have enough…  One thing is certain :  as I stood frozen by my car  in the heat of the day, it seemed as though the noon-time sun was shining down on me, brightly illuminating my selfish, hard heart.

Its so easy for me to embrace the idea that the “least of these”  meant children, or people who are disabled – that kind of thing.  But – a homeless person, a socially undesirable person – surely Jesus didn’t really mean them too? did He?  Yes!  I think He did.

These are His words from Matthew 25:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Dear Lord,

Please give me a new perspective – one that sees You when I see others in need, no matter who they are.   Continue your work in my life so that I have a generous heart.  And thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my ice cream money with you.  I promise, I will do it again when you ask.  amen.

a bit of history · who knows?

wash up for lunch…

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I’m waiting in the kitchen, quietly.  Listening…  Is the water running?  nope.  And now, scampering feet come down the hall.  I ask him, “Isaac, did you wash your hands?  Its time for lunch!”  His dark brown eyes look up at me and tell me without words…  “Please go wash your hands, its time to eat!”

He comes back with clean hands – we all gather at the table and eat our lunch.  This is our daily ritual now, it seems.  Every once in a while, he will go and wash his hands without being asked – and usually it is an hour long event – including half a bottle of soap, lots of bubbles, maybe a wash cloth and other toys that need to be “cleaned up.”

As an adult I know.  Its so important to wash hands.  It keeps harmful germs at bay.  goodness, I wash up constantly – after diapers, after sweeping, before I cook.  You name it – it seems constant, but I do it for the sake of good hygiene.  Helping my son understand, is not so easy – I just have to start by helping him make it a habit.

I remember a very significant, similar lesson learned when I was young.  I was in Miss Kerwin’s second grade class.  Yes – I loved her.  I was seven and she was the best teacher ever.  She had beautiful shoes – with bows on them and I wanted to be just like her.

Anyway, the long and the short of it – I cheated.  On a math test.  I knew it was wrong.  But, I looked on the girl’s paper who sat next to me.  Deep down it felt awful.  For days I carried it around in the pit of my stomach.  The longer I toted the sin with me, the worse I felt.  I was sin- sick  from my cheating.  It was a miserable few days.

I finally confessed.  I told my beautiful, wonderful teacher, Miss Kerwin.  And do you know what she did? She told me how to talk to God about it.  And we did.  Right there at her desk.   It was a wonderful healing moment.  She taught me how to be forgiven.  I was a young believer and had lost my way, in my sin, feeling dreadful – and she in a very sweet and gracious way gave me the key to a new habit, that could keep me healthy spiritually.

Forgiveness from the  Heavenly Father, made possible by His son, is the only way to a healthy heart. When I ignore my sin, it grows and decays my heart.  The disease spreads and I am separated from Him. But when I take my sin to Him and confess it, He promises to forgive. The disease is washed away and my heart is made clean.   And there is a peace that follows because my relationship with Him is restored.

Psalm 24:3-5 says this:

Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ?
Who may stand in his holy place?

He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
who does not lift up his soul to an idol
or swear by what is false. [a]

He will receive blessing from the LORD
and vindication from God his Savior.

My son is still learning the habit of washing up for lunch… I hope someday that I can help him understand how important it is to keep a clean heart as well, just like Miss Kerwin did for me.   How amazing it is to know that there is forgiveness of sins provided and guaranteed by Jesus.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.  1 John 1:9

Heavenly Father,

Help me to remember to keep a short account with you, so that my heart and life are clean, free of sin’s disease.  I know I don’t deserve it.  Thank you for this beautiful gift of forgiveness and restoration.  I love you.

amen.

friends and loved ones · who knows?

PTO Days

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My husband sent an email home recently.  It had the rest of his scheduled paid time off for the year.  When I saw it, it made me very happy.  I love it when he is home with us.  Not to mention, it gave me something to look forward to – days of vacation and fun and family and friends and….

Days not like today.  Today there is school work and laundry and cooking, let alone, settling arguments, convincing people to eat their veggies and changing dirty diapers.  This is my day.  Now that I’ve put all of that out there, I’m considering going back to bed.

Sometimes I think I’d like a PTO day or two.  Days where I’m not responsible – where I don’t have to give an account for anything.  Now don’t get me wrong, we all need days off and moments of well deserved R&R.  However, in God’s economy, days away from doing what He’s called us to do – those are only days without pay.

For me, this is where I need a perspective change.  All of my days are gifts from His hand – no matter how hard or easy they are.  And when I pass one by, without living effectively for my heavenly Father, that means I have one less to use for the purposes of building His kingdom.  When I find myself dreading the day ahead, its usually because I have given up my responsibility of building His kingdom, right here in my own home.

It is a daily turning away from my own desires, towards Him and what He has for me:

from Hebrews:

12See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. 13But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. 14We have come to share in Christ if we hold firmly till the end the confidence we had at first.

When I feel myself letting go, or giving up I have to remember this : Every moment with my children at home, with Christ at the center, is a kingdom building moment.    No matter what that moment is: picking up toys, assisting the piano practicing, loading the dishwasher.  But it can also be the moments that I enjoy: a cozy morning snuggle, baking a batch of cookies, singing and dancing to our favorite music or reading our favorite books.

And it seems – with these thoughts, my need for a PTO day has vanished.

“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand… and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late.”
Marie Beyon Ray