~ The Cows Make It Taste Better

Last night, we ate ice cream in a corn field.

We surprised the kids and decided to have ice cream for supper.

I know, seems like we've been hanging out in corn fields alot these days.

But when you can eat your ice cream next to the cows that made the milk - well, what can I say?

It just doesn't get better than that.

Our flavor choices:
Root Beer
Mint Brownie
Midnight Milky Way
Purple Hippo (Grape with orange sprinkles
The County Fair Sundae (Vanilla, Caramel, Spanish Peanuts & Popcorn)
& Mango Tango Sundae (Mango ice cream, Strawberries & Raspberries)

As if having ice cream for dinner wasn't special enough, when we got home, the best neighbor in the world had hung a huge bag of buttered popcorn from our local popcorn stand on our back door.

So we did what we had to do -

We had popcorn for dessert!

If you have a hankerin' for ice cream for dinner tonight, take a drive to the country and stop in at the Kelley Country Creamery. Say hello to the cows for me!

~ Summer Days Drifting Away

We drove into the middle of a huge corn field -

220 acres to the left,
120 acres to the right,
(give or take a few),

about a half-mile down a narrow gravel drive, the corn standing guard all around, its tassels swaying in the warm summer breeze.

And when we reached the clearing, there it was -

the best little private swimming hole in the Midwest and lots of friends to share it with.

The boys put on their suits, and we didn't see them for the next three hours. (Well, we really knew exactly where they were at all times.)

We grilled chicken and had garden fresh pasta salad and roasted marshmallows,

but they were too busy to eat.

There was boating, kayaking, a diving platform, a sandy beach, and best of all - a zip line!

We cheered those who were brave enough to thrust themselves across the water.

We watched the sky change from blue to pink to gray as the sun began its descent, and just before it was too dark to see and before the mosquitoes could have their way with us, we called them all out of the water to head home.

Oh, how I love the lazy days of summer, especially when they drift into a pefect summer night!

~ Always a Soccer Summer

He starts the season with, "Mom, I can't wait 'til soccer practice starts. I love soccer!"

He leaves his first practice dead tired. The coach has worked him to the bones.

He tells me some of the other kids complain about how hard they had to work. He says he knows the coach is just trying to get them in shape.

We're on our way to the field for a game. It's in the 90's and he's brought two water bottles, just in case.

I express my concern that he stay hydrated.

He responds at the top of his lungs, "I love to run!"

CRAZY KID!

I hope he always works this hard and has this kind of passion for whatever he does!

~ On Going Home and Coming Home

It was good to be away -

to "go home".

To feel like we could rest and breathe again -

nowhere to be, no appointments, no cell phones buzzing, no computer to check, and no TV!

There were moments when I found myself longing for that life...

walking next door to Mom's for breakfast every day (Oh to live by my mama!),

having my in-laws just down the street and enjoying dinners together,

hearing my children's laughter as they played with cousins and begged for sleepovers,

having my brothers and sister close and playing cards and laughing over speed scrabble when it probably would have been smarter for all of us to go to bed (like when my sister looked at my son's board and asked "Deep? What's a deep?" or how our game seemed to turn into the Princess Bride version of speed scrabble [think wuv, twoo wuv]),

having my grandma a block away and watching her great-grandchildren give her hugs and kisses and watching their eyes explode when her hand reaches into her candy stash to give them each a treat (and remembering all the days I spent at her house stealing peppermints and orange peanuts from her candy dish),

being in a place where I actually run into people I know from way back (Liz from Cookeville and Stephanie, my first cousin),

and sitting beside my husband for the awesome service at Long Hollow Baptist Church.(Oh the luxury of sitting next to my husband on a Sunday morning!)

For nine days, I pretended that was my life.

That may seem a little silly for a grown woman to say, but every day in my real life, I hear people say,

"We're going to mom's for dinner,"
or
"My parents are watching the kids,"
or
"I had lunch with my sister yesterday."

Simple little, harmless statements that make my heart want to throw a pity party.

The fourteen hour "mountain" that separates me from my family feels insurmountable and I begin focusing on what I'm missing -

the birthdays,

the family reunions,

the Sunday dinners,

the grandparents watching the endless soccer and baseball games,

the graduations,

the holidays,

the cousins growing up together,

the nieces and nephews turning into incredible men and women,

my sister volunteering to take the kids and me telling her, "Of course they can stay with us,"

cooking my Mom something special on Mother's Day or just being with her on a Mother's Day,

getting to say, "Just come on over for supper," or "Let's do Christmas at our house this year,"

and on, and on, and on...

Oh, it's a pitiful sight, this pity party.

The eyes gush, the nose runs and suddenly God's will seems just a little unfair.

(Even now, I'm a little blotchy just typing this. Not sure if it's from the sadness or the extreme shame I feel for admitting all this.)

I tell you, it's ugly!

It's not really a place where I want to get comfortable.

It's a place that says, "I'll trust You in everything God, but not this!"

It's that place of longing for what lies behind instead of wildly anticipating what lies ahead.

It's the ugly, arrogant place that says, "See God, I'm making this huge sacrifice for You. Why aren't You noticing?"

It's the delusional place that says, "I know what's best for me better than You do!"

I don't like myself much in that place.

When I live with one foot in reality and one foot in the wishing and hoping, the foot trying to hang on to reality becomes pretty useless.

“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Romans 10:15)

I need both feet!

So, I usually remind myself of the moment I told God that I would follow Him every day of my life,

And then I remind myself of the moment I stood before this man of mine and promised to follow Him anywhere (really - anywhere),

And I grab hold of the week here or the 10 days there that I get to go "home" and I pretend for a little while...

but then I come home.

I come home to the leaving and cleaving and dying to self.

I come home to the blooming where you are planted.

I come home to the beauty of this place where I live and the miracle of this man and these children I've been given and the friends who have become like family and the people who desperately need to know about my Savior.

I come home to the pressing on...

To the taking hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. (Phillipians 3:12)

I come home to boundary lines that have fallen for me in pleasant places (Psalm 16:6),

and I crawl into my own bed and put my head on my own pillow (which is better than all the pillows in the world) and I say without any hesitation,

"It's good to be home!"

Photos: Fun with cousins and water squirters from Dollar Tree and eating delicious s'mores with giant marshmallows at Granny's house. (Aunt Lori says, "Don't try this in the microwave!)

~ A Great Way To End a School Year

I started the school year with a bit of trepidation, this first year of schooling at home.

Would I remember how to teach?

It had been 22 years since I ran my own classroom.

Would my children cooperate and see and respect me as their teacher?

Would they beg to go back to their respective schools?

I knew God had called us to this. I knew He would carry us through it.

After a year of great Bible discussions, rich literature, learning a new language and beginning music training, not to mention the essentials of a great education, I have to say it feels more like starting a new life than just teaching school.

And when they say to me, "Mom, we are homeschooling again next year, right?", I breathe a deep sigh of relief, and I offer whispered prayers of gratitude for this extreme priviledge of getting to watch them become all that He wants them to be!

To celebrate the boys' hard work, we spent the last day of school at the Milwaukee Public Museum with another homeschooling family (friends of ours). We went specifically to see the butterflies as we had just ended our year studying butterflies.

It was a great ending to a great year!

~ When Your Arms Are Overflowing

"I opened the window to let the fresh air in

And continued to work away the day,

Painting walls and filling shelves just so,

Until the wind blew and took my breath away.

The lilacs seemed to dance across the room

Reminding me of sweeter things to come...

Empty arms and aching heart no more...

When will this child I've longed for come home?"

I remember standing in an empty nursery in the spring of 1998 after 11 years of infertility wondering when God would answer our prayers.

One month later, on June 24, 1998, my first child arrived .

And they just kept coming!

"He gives the barren woman healing. She'll dance with joy like the mother of children." ~ from There's No One Like Our God

Pictures taken Mother's Day 2011. Lyrics are from a song called "Carried Away on a Breeze".

That's My Mom!

This morning before church, I sat down next to my oldest son. As I crossed my legs, I bumped his shoe, and we compared shoe sizes. His shoe was bigger than mine. Now obviously, my foot is bigger than his. He's only 13. But he was wearing bulky tennis shoes, and I had on dainty sandals. The thought crossed my mind that it won't be long 'til his foot will fill my shoe. In the next moment, I had this thought:

I'm 46 years old, and I still can't fill my mom's shoes.

Oh sure, I've borrowed her shoes when we go to visit, and they fit just fine (Although, I'll never understand where she got that dainty narrow foot. My toes do pinch a little.)

And yes, I've inherited pairs of shoes she bought in a daring moment and then was too chicken to wear said she just didn't wear them that much.

And I confess, there have probably been times (early in life) when I stole shoes from her closet, and they ended up in mine. (I'm sure that happened once or twice.)

When I say I can't fill her shoes, I'm not talking about the size of my feet.

I'm talking about the enormous role she has played in my life. I'm talking about her enormous heart.

She is amazing.

She is a server,

a giver,

an encourager,

a truth teller,

an intercessor,

a great example of a Godly woman.

She is always faithful,

fiercely loyal,

and deserves a crown in heaven for her patience.

She has seen tragedy and sadness and disappointment in her life, but there is no hint of anger or bitterness in her.

On the contrary, she is full of grace and forgiveness and acceptance, always ready to give testimony to God's amazing grace in her own life.

And if that's not proof enough that she's the greatest mom in the world, how 'bout this:

She's an awesome cook!

Anyone who knows my mom counts themselves lucky to eat at her table. (She cooks in her spare time - for fun!)

Still not convinced.

She smells really good, too!

(One of my sons came home after being at her house and said with a smile on his face, "Mmm! Mom my pillow smells like Granny!" He was right. It did!)

I may never be able to "fill her shoes", but I hope someday my children will feel the same way about me that I feel about her.

I hope someday they can say,

"That's my mom, and she's my best friend."

I love you, mom! Happy Mother's Day!