So Patrick asked….

Patrick asked once where all this musical ability came from, specifically relating to his interests of piano, guitar and harmonica.  Well, lets see…..

His father with his own electric guitar

and his paternal grandfather playing harmonica

HIs paternal grandmother plays the organ and  drums. (no photos..yet)

He was thrilled to have found these pictures.  Now he knows.

Christmas continues

Patrick’s new harmonica arrived.  He’s so happy.  He got an Amazon gift certificate from his aunt and uncle and ordered the  $38 harmonica with the slide that allows him to play sharps and flats.

And of course he must start playing right away. He’s learning hymns for Trek this summer.

We Found Mr. Prosthesis!! He Lives!!!

(written in December but posted in Feb)

Seven years ago, when we moved to Arkansas, my mom gave us a box of old ornaments to put on our tree (all of this is a long story in itself).  Among these ornaments was a one-legged man.

We took pity on him, certain we could give him new life.  We replaced his missing leg with a  Q-tip and gave him the name of Mr.  Prosthesis.  We put him on the tree with Bellerina, Ballarina, Mr. Hernia (whom  you will see later), the rubber chicken (which is the representation of my extended family) and many more. 

One year, we couldn’t find our box of ornaments.  We were certain he had accidentally gone into the burn pile along with the box of other favorite ornaments.  We were very sad.  BUT!! this week  we found him!  in a box, buried deep in the attic!.  He Lives!!!

His artificial leg had been through quite the ordeal, so it was time for a replacement.

We invited Mr. Hernia, who was also found in the long lost box, to come along for moral support.

First we needed to gently bend back the old leg…

…and then snap it right off!! By the smile on his face,  Mr. Prosthesis appears to be doing very well, so we shall proceed…... ………to replace the old Q-tip…..

  … WITH A HOOK!!!

We opted for a less invasive surgery,

covered the screw with beads and hot glued him back together.

Mr. Hernia visits Mr. Prosthesis in recovery.  Vital signs are good, outpatient surgery went well and his new leg should hold up much better.

we considered adding beads but decided against it.

Time to go hang out on the tree with Mr. Hernia, the Rubber Chicken, Bellerina, Ballarina and all the others, Formerly Known as The Lost Ornaments.

How Katie Shares the Gospel

Many of you know that Katie carefully selects which of her stuffed animals, toys and  critters go into her basket to take to church on Sunday.  I noticed one day that, when we sing, Katie will hold a critter or two so they can see the hymnbook, also.

An Epiphany

I’ve realized something.  I rely heavily upon the Lord for everything. This is called faith.  And He does not let me down. 

And when I talk about it with people who I think would understand, I get looked at and spoken to like I’ve confessed to some truly odd dysfunction, that relying upon the Lord the way that I do is a character weakness.

But I’ve realized something.  The people who have acted this way have not ~*had to*~ rely upon Him the way I do.  They don’t have a testimony of His care in the way I’ve experienced. 

It is in my Patriarchal blessing that I will be guided by the Spirit in every decision I have to make.  See that?  Pick up on that?  ~*Every*~ decision.  And it is true.

After my husband died, I was on my own.  Life changes when you become a widow.  Drastically.   The Lord was always there, guiding me through, even, very minor decisions, because I needed it.  And He still is.  I sometimes have to walk through fire, but He is always right there, encouraging me, patting me on the head.

I have good friends who understand and accept this truth. 

I have not-so-good friends who just think I’m weak and dysfunctional.  But it has been made clear to me now; it’s not me having an odd dysfunction.  I choose to let Him guide me and help me through my life in all things. I have strength through Him, not of myself.

Pepeprmint Bones

"The Night Before Christmas" ala Jim Davis (Garfield's Night Before Christmas) changed our lives. When my Katie read about "Visions of Peppermint Bones" dancing in Odie's head, Starlight Mints became a part of our Christmas Traditions.

Got Starlight Mints?

Peppermint Bones (and other shapes)
Big bag of Starlight Mints
Powdered Sugar or Cornstarch

1. For people who are easily distracted (raising my hand), preheat oven to 250 degrees. *
   
   
2. Sprinkle a baking sheet (or two) with a light coating of powdered sugar or cornstarch to prevent the melted candy from sticking to the pan. (I have tried wax paper and parchment paper and they stick to the candy).
   
3. Unwrap what feels like 1000 Starlight Mints and place them in desired shapes on baking sheets, sides of candies touching. You can make bone shapes, candy cane shapes, wreath shapes, use your imagination.
   
4. Gently place in oven and bake at 250 degrees for about 15 minutes. You will want to keep an eye on them after the timer goes off because once they start meling together, the melitng process just speeds up and the candy spreads out. It takes about 17-18 minutes total in my oven.


5. Remove pans from oven and allow shapes to cool a couple of minutes on the baking sheet. Gently loosen pepermint shapes on the pan and remove to a cooling rack.

*For people who are not as easily distracted you can set your oven and bake at a higher temperature, of course, but you will just have to keep a closer eye on them

The Christmas Pagent.

I laughed so hard over this and had to pass it on.--"Gold, common sense and fur..." Gotta love the children....ROFL thanx to Michelle M for  this.

"My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn't been blessed with a baby.  I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if he would give us a  child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with  all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.

God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son.
The next year God blessed us with another son.

The following year, He blessed us with yet another son.

The year after that we were blessed with a daughter.

My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty.  We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old. 
I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella."

I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs..I was off to a good start.  God had entrusted me with four children and I didn't want to disappoint Him.  I tried to be patient the day the children smashed
two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding...when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs.  When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and  rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess..

In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children.  While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother - I didn't even come close...I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too.  Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife."

My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant.  My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man.  This was their moment to shine.  My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes."   But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes."   My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly.  That's dirty, rotten clothes."
A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost
her left wing.  I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced
down the aisle crying,  "Mama-mama."   Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.
My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur."  The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation.   "I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes.  "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense and fur."  "My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing," I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin. 

 

Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master.  Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.  Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.  Had no army, yet kings feared Him.  He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.  He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.  He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today.  Feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us."