~ Coming Home

There's nothing

half so pleasant

as coming home again.

~ Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

~ A Little Vacation

It's late and I have miles to go before I sleep. Tomorrow, we leave for a week of peace and rest. We are headed to a beautiful little town in Door County, WI. I may not have computer access while I'm there, so I probably won't be around much this week.

On Sunday, we are traveling to Chicago for the day. My oldest son gets to meet his foster mother from Korea. We are very excited!

Thanks to all of you who have stopped by lately and for the sweet comments. I've been a little crazy with plans for the family trips. Hopefully I can connect with you when I return.

Have a beautiful week!

~ Little Blessed Me

Warning:

If you don't particularly like looking at other people's children, feel free to skip this post, 'cause my baby turned two today and mama needs to do a little reminiscing.

He's two years old today.

His name is Bennett.

It means "Little Blessed One".

I think I am the one who is blessed.

He says "Mama hold you" when he wants to be held.

He lays his head on my shoulder when he's tired and says, "Sing Moon".

He rubs his hand through my hair while I sing to him.

He takes my face in his hands and says, "Look at me, Mom."

He wants to go everywhere with me, including the bathroom.

He lets me kiss his boo-boo's.

He asks, "What's wrong mom?"

He tells me my shoes are pretty.

He's got his daddy's eyes!

What more could a mom want!

I love you, Bennett!

Happy Birthday!

~ Just for Laughs

God bless this woman, and God bless big ol' sweet iced tea. At least someone understands!

Thank you, Anita!

~ My Old Stomping Grounds

While we were in Tennessee, my sister and I took our boys hiking to one of my favorite places in my hometown called Old Stone Fort State Archaeological Park. Besides being a really cool historical setting, it's the perfect place to enjoy all that God created.

The boys had a blast.

They searched for perfect walking sticks,

and threw rocks into the river.

They did all sorts of boy things.

They caught worms,

and climbed down into the old paper mill ruins.

and basically lived on the edge the whole time making mom crazy!

I spent the day saying things like:

"Don't get to close to that bluff!"

"I don't want to have to carry you outa here!"

"Don't get too close to the water or your shoes will get wet, and then you'll have to hike with wet shoes!"

"There could be snakes in there!"

"Don't push each other!"

"If Daddy were here I'd let you...(fill in the blank)!"

The best part of the day (for them , anyway) was finding frog eggs in the river.

The boys had jars. They went prepared to catch bugs, but once they saw the eggs, they emptied those jars real quick. They spent much of their time trying to scoop eggs into their jars. It amazes me how much time goes by and how creative they are when they are exploring and discovering nature.

My favorite part of the day - the sound of the river and the beautiful falls.

So peaceful!

It was the perfect place to take the boys!

And speaking of the perfect place, doesn't this look magical.

We never get any farther than this spot because it is the perfect place for imaginations to run wild. The fort itself encloses 50 acres and to hike the perimeter is over a mile long with another 2 mile trail after that. We never get to finish the trail because we love this little spot.

If I were a kid, I'd play here for hours. Oh yeah, I did. Well maybe not for hours, but my friends and I would go right to the small waterfalls, climb out onto the big flat rocks in the middle of the river and lay out in the sun.

The one thing I know for sure is that I did not appreciate it enough when I was a kid. Isn't that true about so many things. Oh the wisdom that comes with age!

~ It Takes Me Back

It was Easter Sunday, and the boys and I were preparing to say goodbye to the great state of Tennessee and to all our relatives later that day. We had just finished church and had taken a brief drive to the foot of the mountains to take some photos. As we started back to my mom's house, I decided to go ahead and fill up my car so I wouldn't have to do it later. I knew there was a Stuckey's just down the road so I headed that direction.

Photo here

Now, let me pause to say that if you've never been to a Stuckey's gas station, you have to go at least once in your lifetime. So the next time you're in the south and you need a bathroom break or some gas or just have a craving for a pecan log roll (more than just a candy bar - gooey nougat and marachino cherries surrounded by caramel and toasted pecans - yummy!), pull on in to the nearest Stuckey's. They are one of the south's tademarks and a delight to young 'ens everywhere. (Stuckey's did not pay me to say that!) Ok, back to my story.

Photo here

The boys and I piled into Stuckey's to do our business. Ellis and Aidan needed the bathroom, Josiah was dying for a Sobe (What is it with today's generation and their addictions?), and I of course, needed a pecan log roll to entertain me on the drive to Wisconsin. (Come on people, I was lookin' at 15 hours in a car with 4 boys by myself. I needed something to make me happy!)

Anyway, when I got to the register, I greeted the lady (who called me honey several times - love the south), pulled out my money, and that's when I noticed them. Sitting on the counter in a big white pickle bucket were these little square red lollipops. I hadn't seen them since I was a little girl. My siblings and I used to get them when we were on vacation as kids, and I have thought about them many times over the years but never seen them anywhere. I couldn't believe my eyes.

To purchase your own old-fashioned handmade cinnamon lollipops, go here.

The sign said, "3 for $1." I picked up three of them and asked if she could add those to my order. Now you might be saying, "But you have four children," and you'd be right, but I wasn't buying for them. These were all mine. I tucked the little white bag into the driver's side door pocket and once we had said our goodbyes and had gotten a safe enough distance away that I knew I wouldn't be seeing anyone who knew me, I popped one in. With that first taste, I was back at Henry Horton State Park where my family vacationed when I was a child. All the memories came flooding back:

playing Marco Polo in the pool with my dad,

lying in the sun and singin' along to Leavin' on a Jet Plane and Afternoon Delight and other great 70's tunes (OK, I'm quite sure I didn't even know what the lyrics meant!),

feeling the blast of the frigid air-conditioner after being in the hot sun all day,

coming back to the cabin famished after a day of swimming and smelling my mom's homemade spaghetti sauce,

and kicking rocks around the trails and looking for bunnies at dusk.

Isn't it amazing how one taste or one smell can evoke so much emotion. I'll be honest, I love food, probably more for what it represents than anything, like a song that sticks in your memory and takes you back to a certain place and time. Most of my travel memories are usually marked by some meal or some food I ate.

For instance, when I think of our trip to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina with my sister, one of the first things I think about is the hush puppies from the little hole-in-the-wall seafood place that did take-out. Best hush puppies I ever ate! (I need me some hush puppies.) When I think about visiting our dear friends Mike and Ann in Baltimore, I think about that soft shell crab sandwich we had in Annapolis and the little eyes that stared into mine as I took that first bite. When I think about the first time Ken and I visited Chicago before moving there for seminary, my mouth starts to water because it is the first time I ever put a piece of Giordano's Pizza in my mouth. I almost choked there was so much cheese on it. Delicious!

Funny story:

A few weeks ago, Ken had lunch with a friend and former pastor of ours. Our friend was having lunch with a retired professor from Ken's seminary, and he sort of invited himself along. When we were in seminary, for some reason I can't remember, we were invited to the Dean of Student's house to have dinner with some other students. When Ken shared with me who he was going to have lunch with, he asked, "Do you remember him?" I said, "Oh yeah, we had dinner at his house and his wife served French Silk Pie." He couldn't believe I could remember what she served, but it was the first time I had ever eaten French Silk Pie, and it was like a piece of heaven. To this day when I eat that pie, I remember the conversation around the table, the feeling of social awkwardness for me, the big white box the pie was in and the fire flickering in the fireplace. The taste brings it all back.

Is it just me that marks the moments of my life with food? Is that pathetic?

My kids know that when we travel south, there are certain things we will probably do (at least a couple of them):

we may stop for a pecan log roll at Stuckey's, especially now that they have my favorite cinnamon lollipops (given),

we will probably have Krystals for lunch one day,

we will most likely enjoy Sonic half price drinks from 2:00-4:00 p.m. as many days as possible,

if we see a red light on at any Krispy Kreme, we're pullin' over,

if mom can get her way, we'll order J&G pizza, (The rest of my family must have figured out that it's not the quality of the pizza that I crave but the experience, so I'm usually outvoted.)

and if there's a Cracker Barrel within ten miles of a needed potty break around suppertime on our trip, that's what's for dinner, ya'll!

It's not that any one of these particular places holds special memories for me, and it's certainly not the quality of food or the healthiness of it, but together they make me feel a little closer to my southern roots, a little closer to home, maybe even a little closer to childhood. Oh, let's not psycho-analyze here. It's just good, friends, and it's a good thing we don't have these places where I live now. Once or twice a year is fine, but a steady diet - I don't think so.

Are there foods that take you back to another time and place?

~ When Your Plan is not His Plan

Old San Juan

It all started with a dream:

To feel rest

To go for walks

To sleep late

To heal

To finish a conversation

To linger over late night dinners

To watch the sunset in peace

To recharge

To have the honeymoon we never had

To find us again

After seven years of grueling ministry, we would spend the last 10 days of a 10 week sabbatical celebrating our 20 years of marriage, just the two of us. The plans were made, the house was rented and the tickets were purchased.

Cypress House on Virgin Gorda

After a week in the mountains of Colorado as a family and after traveling for two days to get to my parents' home in Tennessee where the kids would be staying, we were less than 36 hours from strolling the cobbled streets of Old San Juan and exploring the exotic pools and grottos of The Baths on beautiful Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands.

The Baths, Virgin Gorda

It was June 30th. We had just arrived at my parents' home and shared a wonderful dinner with our extended family when I heard his scream. It was my (then) five-year-old. He had been playing hide and seek in the dark with his cousins when his sixteen-year-old cousin fell on him and broke both bones in his lower left leg. We rushed him to the emergency room where they told us they couldn't even cast it for ten days until the swelling was completely gone. He would have to be carried everywhere for those ten days. Knowing my parents could not manage the constant lifting required (and knowing I could never leave my child in such a state), we made the hard call to cancel our flights, to cancel our dream trip.

Copper Mine, Virgin Gorda

For weeks, after returning home, I mourned the loss of everything we had given up: the big, beautiful house on the beach, the gorgeous hotel in Old San Juan, the time to focus on each other, the adventure of travel. When our actual anniversary finally came in August, we took an overnight to a very nice spa. It was lovely, but in my heart, it couldn't compare to the trip I had spent hours planning and looking forward to. I couldn't understand God's purpose in all of it. Why wouldn't he want our marriage to be stronger? Why wouldn't he want us to come back refreshed and renewed?

My son was a trooper all summer long, and finally, the day before he started kindergarten in September, his cast was removed. His leg had healed well, but my heart was still in shambles. A few days later, God's plan began to make a little more sense. After 20 years of infertility, 20 years of marriage, and three adopted children, I found out I was almost 12 weeks pregnant. Needless to say, when the shock wore off, there was much celebration in our home. Seven months later at the age of 43, following a very difficult pregnancy, I gave birth to a miracle. God had planned for us to take a very different trip than the one I had been planning to take.

The Baths, Virgin Gorda

Now, I am preparing to celebrate my miracle's second birthday this Sunday. As I reflect on how God brought him into our lives, I'll be honest. Sometimes, I still wonder about God's timing and His plan. It's not how I would have done things, but for some reason, He chose to do it this way. And this is what I know for sure: When you say yes to living out His plan for your life, you have to be willing to say "no" to your own plans, no matter how long you planned and no matter how long you dreamed. When you live with that kind of open-handedness, holding loosely to your own desires, willing to let go, He can take your hand and lead you places you never thought you would go. For me, He answered a prayer I had stopped praying a decade ago, and now, I can't imagine life without my miracle. I may never get to see the walls surrounding Old San Juan and I may never get to swim in that gorgeous pool on Virgin Gorda...

Cypress House Pool

...but life is an adventure everyday when you embrace His plan for your life.

Today, I'm saying "no" to my plans and "yes" to His. Read how others are Walking with Him today @ Holy Experience.

~ Country Roads, Take Me Home

Here are just a few of the reasons yesterday's snowstorm was so hard. I had just spent 10 days enjoying Springtime in Tennessee in my hometown:

The trees were magnificent.

Bradford Pears lined driveways and properties...

and the Weeping Cherry Trees were a fountain of pink profusion.

There was color everywhere.

The tulips and daffodils were blooming...

the woods were full of redbuds...

the grass was like a green carpet...

and the forsythia was like sunshine spilling over.

No matter where you looked, you could see mountains in the distance.

Here are some of the special moments from my trip:

Swimming in the hometown pool with cousins

My four boys with my sister's kids

Saying goodbye to my childhood pastor (He passed away while we were home.)

Hiking at Old Stone Fort with the boys, Aunt Lori and Christopher (beautiful)

Sittin' in the driveway (You had to be there!)

Hugging a friend I haven't seen in 20 years

Running into another friend at the store

Having a day to myself to shop and wander while the kids stayed with Granny and Aunt Lori

Enjoying Happy Hour at Sonic way too many times

Watching my children hug my grandmother and watching their eyes light up when she asks if they would like a piece of candy (Funny - I used to get a piece of peppermint and they get a whole Reeses Peanut Butter cup candy bar!)

Watching my nieces and nephews use thier gifts - Elizabeth singing, Christine''s beautiful solo, Jonathon's amazing monologue, and Ethan's acting

Hunting Easter eggs with all the cousins

(1st row) Christopher, Aidan, Ellis, and Andrew (2nd row) Faith, Emily, Andrew, Siah, Ethan (3rd row) Christine, Bennett, Elizabeth (not pictured: Jonathon & Hannah)

Watching my brothers organize a game of kick ball with 8 children under the age of 8 who didn't know how to play (pretty funny)

And the best part:

Spending Easter Sunday with my parents and all my brothers and sisters and all their kids (The only one missing was my husband.)