The Best Thing I Did This Month

I have famous friends.

One famous friend is Shannon. She writes the popular Christian “Every Woman’s Battle” series. She has sold something like a bizillion books. Guess she hit a nerve in today’s society—not to mention the small fact she writes (and speaks) quite well.

In her most recent book, Completely His, yours truly is mentioned . . . maybe this will be my one small claim to fame—so I’ll just go ahead and “let my light shine.”

“Beth has four young children of her own and all of the responsibilities that come with marriage and motherhood. However, Beth also made time to volunteer with the local CASA chapter (Court Appointed Special Advocates), serving as a liaison between abused children and the court to determine the best interests of the children. Her passion for abused and orphaned children blossomed to the point that she and her husband, Dave, completed all the paperwork, jumped through all the necessary legal hoops, and became foster parents to displaced children. Not only does Beth have plenty of love for her own family, but she has enough to go around to other children who may have never experienced God’s love in their own dysfunctional homes.” (pg. 123)

Wow, I don’t sound too shabby when you put it that way!

In all seriousness, I started reading this book the moment it came in the mail (she sends me a copy of all of them) and I couldn’t put it down. She had me hooked from page one.

Shannon didn’t put me up to it (I doubt she even knows I have a blog), but I am highlighting her book because it is an incredible journey of how one woman’s response to tragedy led to a closer walk with the Lord. I believe it can be a true source of help and strength to so many people who live under a cloud of guilt and condemnation.

If you're yearning for a good read that will sweep you away and return you with an inner make-over—this one's for you. But please be forwarned . . . you'll need a big box of tissues at your side!

Nicholas!

Nicholas is all boy! At ten months he loves to play with his toys, slide across the floor (army style), laugh at his siblings, attempt to talk, and grin at everyone who makes eye contact.

We've (me) been working on saying "Mommy" since he was born. This is generally how is goes:

Nicholas say, "Daddy"—"Da da"
Say, "Ashley"—"Aa lee"
Say, "Jay Jay"—"Ay ay"
Say, "Colie"—"Ol lie"
Say, "Mommy"—"Da da"

Isn't that just the way things go?!

Daddy’s Home!

Yesterday after David got home from his fishing trip, we celebrated his belated birthday by opening presents, going out to lunch and a game of putt-putt.

Ashley (age 11) did incredibly well and actually made FIVE hole in ones. As we were leaving she asked her dad,

“Is there a prize for the one who made the most hole-in-ones?”

That prompted a quick response from Jonathan (age 8):

“Is there a prize for the one with the most humility?”

There’s No Place Like Home

Having lived on the east coast, west coast, Colorado and Washington State (the most un-churched state in the Union), and lots of other states somewhere in the middle, I am still, after 11 years of being a Texan, occasionally shocked by the culture. Like for instance the other day. I called a local hardware store to inquire about renting a stump grinder. They put me on hold and the on-hold music began, “Celebrate Jesus, celebrate . . .”

It reminded me of when we first moved here. I was in Victoria’s Secret buying perfume. (Really, I was buying perfume.) A saleslady approached me and smothered my hand in one of their fragrant lotions and then informed me I should try their new line of hosiery . . . perfect for wearing to church. (I’m not kidding—that is what she said.)

Though I avoid our local grocery store because the prices are way higher than Walmart, I do occasionally enjoy stopping in just hear the music as I grab a loaf of bread or gallon of milk, “Jesus is the answer for the world today . . .”

And then the best one of all. A few days ago I decided to open a new bank account. The banker made a little small talk while his fingers flew on his keyboard detailing my personal information. In between my home address and phone number, he asked what church I attend.

Knowing he didn’t need such information to ensure the success of my financial future, I’m assuming he was simply concerned about my soul. I love that about East Texas! Had I fumbled for an answer, he would have invited me to his.

No, we don’t have the Rocky Mountains or the Seattle skyline . . . but I must say, sometimes it’s kind of nice living in the buckle of the Bible belt.

The Gift

Well I suppose gifts are always nice . . . like the one my father-in-law is hopefully enjoying right now. For his 70th birthday this year David and his brothers gave him what is called a “fly in” fishing trip way up in northern Canada. “Fly in” simply means it is too remote to get there any other way. Though personally I would consider it worse than prison for ten days, I’m sure my father-in-law, husband, and brother-in-laws are having the time of their lives.

I went on one of these little trips to Canada once . . . I was new to the fam, and simply didn’t know any better. (The picture is eleven years old).

I kid you not, their only sustenance for ten days will be twinkies and the fish they catch. Their living quarters will be worse than squalor and their only form of entertainment will be fishing and cards. (If you can call fishing entertainment).

I wouldn’t mention this small fact except that we are missing both Father’s Day and David’s birthday (fell on the same day this year). So what do you write when your husband is in the middle of nowhere and he leaves you at home alone for ten days with your four kids?

Though David tends to travel far more than I am able to fully appreciate, there are more ways than I can count as to why I’m so glad he’s the one I’m married to. And since it’s such a special day, I’ll try to list a few:

• David can make me laugh even when I’m so mad I could scream. (I usually laugh after I scream)

 • David is a very devoted father and his kids know they are the center of his world. Everytime he comes home all three kids (Nicholas isn’t big enough yet) jump on him and smother him in kisses. He makes everything in their world happy.

• David takes time to help others along the way. He holds an open door to everyone that needs an ear. I have found over the years many of the young people he ministers to think of him as a father. Now that this number is well into the thousands, one might think he wouldn’t have time for every single person who calls with marriage problems, ministry troubles, life decisions and the like . . . but David makes the time. He returns EVERY call. I love that about him.

• David works really hard to be a better person each day than he was the day before. He is slow to anger (in fact he is rarely angry), quick to say I’m sorry (and truly mean it), an eternal optimist and sees the good in everyone. He is not afraid to speak the truth, but has a way of doing it with just the right amount of empathy that takes away the sting.

• He is lifelong learner. He makes lists of books recommended by those he hopes his life will emulate (both from the past and present) and reads with an undying thirst to learn and understand. It is quite commonplace at our house to see books lying around that are rare and hard to come by. To find and read such books are simply part of who David is. He is incredibly bright but refuses to be satisfied with where he is at. He pushes the learning envelope as far as it will stretch.

• Probably the trait that attracted me to David the most was his childlike faith and complete devotion to God. After all these years (14 to be exact) it is still my favorite.

• He loves me . . . even when I’m not very lovable. He lives his life in a way that makes me want to be like him. There are so many things about him I admire. His love language is “Gifts of Service”—which is kind of nice (translates into washing dishes, running to the store when we’re out of milk, feeding the baby at 4:00am . . . I suppose the list is endless.

So here’s to you, Babe. Happy Birthday. I’m so blessed to have you in my life—you truly are a gift.

And Happy Father’s Day. You’re the best dad I could have ever asked for to Ashley, Jonathan, Cole and Nicholas!

Prime Time

When we found out we were pregnant with Nicholas, Jon and Kelly bought us one of their favorite baby things—a baby monitor where you can watch your little one on a tiny TV screen even when it is pitch black in the baby’s room.

We love it! When not asleep, Nicholas is entertaining to watch playing with his fingers, lifting his toes high over his head or swinging at his duck mobile.

One of Cole’s favorite things to do before going to bed is to climb up on my bed and watch what he calls, “Nicholas TV”. He laughs at his baby brother and even tries to talk to him through the monitor.

The other night after watching “Nicholas TV” for awhile he asked, “Mom, doesn’t this TV ever get any other channels!?”

A Little Time Off

We’re just finishing up a week of vacation. Most moms know, family vacations aren’t really a vacation for mom.

I won the discussion and we ended up staying here. With a baby it’s just easier to stay near home. We have been visiting local fun spots like the lake, the zoo, and Splash Kingdom.

Next month we’ll take another week of vacation and visit my parents, friends and extended relatives in Indiana.

We’re hoping to visit the fun places I grew up with: King’s Island, Ft. Wayne Children’s Zoo, and Conner's Prairie.

It’s always great visiting my parents because our days go something like this:
My Mom: Sleep in—let me get the baby.
My Mom: Let me make you all breakfast—what would you like?
My Mom: I’ll clean up here—you all go out and have fun!
My Mom: Let me watch the kids tonight. Why don’t you go to the movies.

You get the picture—not just a family vacation, but also a vacation for me!

I Know I Do

Don’t you just hate it when . . .

You finally arrive at your destination only to discover your four year old is wearing swimming flippers instead of shoes?!

The Pay Off

They say imitation is the best form of flattery . . .

A few nights back we were all out at David’s parents’ house with the extended family. I fell in love with the little jammies our cousins Henry and Jonah were wearing.






I had to go to four different Walmarts in order to find them in the right sizes for both Cole and Nicholas.

Can I just say it’s really, really hard to take a presentable picture of a four year old with a nine month old!

Can You Say Obsession?

I remember when I was a kid my dad saying, “There’s a new show on television I think we should watch.” My sisters and I responded with groans because we wanted to watch something else (I don’t remember what). My dad threw out what he knew would seal the deal, “It’s a show with a bunch of kids in it—just like the Brady Bunch!!

Instantly he won us over. I grew up loving Thursday nights with John-boy, Mary Ellen, Jason, Ben, Erin, Jim-bob and Elizabeth. Thanks to great channels like Hallmark, nerds like me can relive their childhood memories of the great depression, the warmth of the Walton farmhouse, the charm of Ike Godsey’s store, and the simple ways of life in the Blueridge mountains of Virginia. We can also catch all the later episodes we were too cool to watch during our teenage years.

Yesterday, on my birthday of all days, the Waltons were replaced on the Hallmark channel with “Murder She Wrote.” What’s up with that!!?? Knowing dvds have been made of everything that will sell, I googled “The Waltons” to see what was out there. Jiminy Cricket!! My passion is shared by multitudes of like-minded fanatics like me. There are Walton websites, museums, books, memorabilia and a whole Walton fan community!

So now thanks to amazon, not only do I have the first five seasons, the TV premiere, and the famous Homecoming heading my way, (a little birthday present to myself) I have joined the blogasphere world of everything Walton. Don’t you just love living in the 21st century!

Congrats!

After the four year old girls reminded us that “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend”, the boys sang their hearts out to “Singing in the Rain”—complete with top hats, sparkling ties and umbrellas. Their “Hurray for Hollywood” theme was incredibly cute.

Cole graduated from pre-school with flying colors . . . which really just means he knows them all.

Congratulations little graduate. It’s on to K-4. We are so proud of you!

The Rain Just Doesn’t End

Since Friday was our last day of school, we made our now annual trip to Dallas to watch the Rangers play. My sister and her family made the trip as well.

Unfortunately, we never made it out of the stadium parking lot. It starting raining so hard we decided the wetness was more than we could endure. So while other diehard fans waited out the lengthy rain delay and watched the drizzly game quite late, we opted for “Steak and Shake”, played cards in our hotel room, and purchased Charlotte’s Web on pay per view for the kids. In spite of the weather we had a great time.

Though the rain continues on . . . and on, and on . . . we never complain. Rain in East Texas is something we ALWAYS need. Since we usually experience drought, (followed by many dead trees—we currently have 7 from last year that need to come down) we are thankful indeed!

Summertime Blues

Don't you just hate it when your ice cream melts faster than you can eat it?

I'm Back

I had just decided to re-enter the blogging world after my somewhat lengthy departure when my plans were changed. After days and days of rain (an anomaly for East Texas), the kids and I were sitting in the living room when a bright flash of pink lightning cracked so loudly I thought for sure it would be followed by one of our hundreds of trees plummeting to the ground.

After checking at all the windows for damage, it appeared to have not caused any . . . until the next day when I tried to get online. I was quite thankful at that moment for the Apple sales lady who had convinced me to buy the extended warranty for my computer.

Since the totally geek (a huge compliment in my book) guy behind the counter had to order a part, we had to make the two hour trip twice before admitting me back into the 21st century . . . and happy to be back I am!

Numbering Our Days

Teach me to number my days aright so I might offer to You a heart of wisdom. Psalms 39:4

It has almost been three months since my last post. I won’t try to fill you in on all the household happenings during my blogging absence, but maybe in the weeks ahead I will highlight a few.

One of the biggest was the passing of Kelly’s mom. What a shock to all of us. Just a few weeks ago she was sitting at our kitchen table sharing pizza and a game of cards. How seldom we reflect on the fact life is but a breath. She was only 54.

Though all of us are deeply sad for Kelly who was incredibly close to her mom, and to Jordan who won’t get to grow up with her, we know “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” Psalm 116:15

Her funeral in Wichita was a true tribute to a life full of love for God, service to others and commitment to family. One of her main ministries was to prisoners. What an incredible treasure she took with her to the throne of God—the salvation of so many lost and hurting people.

Kelly’s mother lived a life well-lived . . . the kind of example that helps us remember life is short, this material world will one day disappear, but relationships and our service to God are eternal. Kelly’s recent posts about her mom as well as the one she wrote on our shared birthday last year is amazing. With renewed commitment, I want to number my days, reflect on what is most important in life and make daily choices with one eye on the present and the other on eternity.

An Evening At The Symphony

Over the weekend we attended an amazing symphony made up of top high school musicians from all over the region. My nephew Michael was on the trumpet and Caleb the trombone. Maybe I don’t get out much, but honestly it was one of the best performances I’ve ever been to.

All of my extended family was there and we had all four of our kids as well. When the Master of Ceremonies asked that we try to refrain from coughing because it was being recorded live, David and I immediately regretted our decision to not get a sitter for Nicholas!

When the music began Cole did exactly what you would expect Pavlov’s dog to do if he had been conditioned to go to sleep every night of his life listening to classical music. Cole was out like a light before the second song! A true blessing given our need to be very, very quiet.


Fortunately for us, Nicholas wasn’t fussy. Unfortunately for us, he picked that particular afternoon to start practicing his syllables! David had to take him out.

The symphony was a great time for all. I’m so proud of my nephews—they are blessed with boatloads of talent. (And have practiced their instruments incalculable hours). The first picture is when they were the ring bearers in our wedding 13 years ago. The other is them just after the symphony. They were so, so cute . . . and now they are so, so handsome!

Talkin’ Smack!

Have you seen these “Hair Balls” in stores? They are great for toddlers—both easy to throw and easy to catch.

After Cole had been playing with his for awhile he threw it at Jonathan and yelled, “Think fast, Jay!”

The ball landed nearly two feet short of Jay—impossible to catch. But that didn’t stop Cole from placing the blame elsewhere. He yelled out, “Bad catch Jay!”

Those Colts!

It is always best to accept an invitation where the TV is a big screen plasma and the food is exceptional . . . which was certainly the case at Jon and Kelly’s yesterday. Hot wings, pizza, chips and dip, spicy meatballs and chocolate pie—a perfect superbowl party!

And for those of us who don’t even like football . . . the Doritos commercials made the watching worthwhile. It is new day in advertising!

Home Inspection Anxiety

I always want to have my house PERFECT when they come which is why I schedule both our fire inspection and health inspection on the same day. The fact they are obligated to look in ALL of our cabinets, closets, bathtubs, toilets and sinks only adds to my angst. Though I doubt they would give someone a failing grade for disorganization or clutter, it’s rather nice to give the impression one day out of the year our home is perfect from top to bottom.

By the time the doorbell rang I was breathing a sigh of relief—I was actually ready for their white gloves and magnifying glass. Nicholas started crying so I picked him up on my way to the door. While greeting our county fire marshall I had the thought, “That’s a strange cough coming from my little son.” The thought was followed by a moment of horror. Just as our guest was walking into our living room, Nicholas lost the ENTIRE CONTENTS of his lunch all over me!

The fire marshall was very gracious and even held Nicholas while I ran upstairs to change clothes. We passed with flying colors and are now ready for a phone call (usually comes in the middle of the night) from the state of Texas asking if they can place a child in our home immediately.

There is song by John Michael Montgomery called, The Little Girl which reduces David and I to tears every time we hear it. It is based on a true story and is a continuous motivator for us in being foster parents. These are the words . . .

Her parents never took the young girl to church
Never spoke of His name
Never read her His Word
Two non-believers walking lost in this world
Took their baby with them
What a sad little girl

Her daddy drank all day and mommy did drugs
Never wanted to play
Or give kisses and hugs
She’d watch the TV and sit there on the couch
While her mom fell asleep
And her daddy went out

And the drinking and the fighting
Just got worse every night
Behind their couch she’d be hiding
Oh what a sad little life
And like it always does, the bad just got worse
With every slap and every curse
Until her daddy in a drunk rage one night
Used a gun on her mom and then took his life

And some people from the city took the girl far away
To a new mom and new dad
Kisses and hugs everyday
Her first day of sunday school the teacher walked in
And a small little girl
Stared at a picture of Him

She said I know that man up there on that cross
I don’t know his name
But I know he got off
He was there in my old house
And held me close to His side
As I hid there behind our couch
The night that my parents died

We have no idea which child will come through our doors next—but we do know they will be walking through a nightmare no one should have to endure. We hope our home can be a place where they feel safe, secure and loved.

A Moment Not Easily Forgotten

(Posted by Request)
A few years ago David was driving in our neighborhood when a tiny, little dog ran out in the street in front of him. Like all conscientious neighbors, he stopped and honked his horn several times so the dog’s owners would realize their precious little pet was in harm’s way.

Unfortunately, no one came running from the house to rescue the little guy. Being such a wonderful and thoughtful guy, he decided to just park there for a few minutes while continuing to honk his horn—patiently waiting for the neighbors to respond as he could see them in their front room.

In the middle of his honking-fest he heard a loud whistle. Looking off to his left, he was quite horrified to learn his honking was not going unnoticed. Approximately a hundred or so confused and angry eyes were fixed on him—he was rather rudely interrupting a funeral taking place in the cemetery on the other side of the street!

A Thank You Long Overdue

If you remember the 80’s then you know how to walk like an Egyptian on the dance floor. Quite possibly you were unknowingly distantly linked to me in “Hands Across America” and you know all the words and motions to YMCA—and can even do them on roller skates. But unless you went to Monroe Central High then you have probably never met Mrs. Washler.

Mrs. Washler ties for first place on my list of favorite teachers along with my fifth grade Social Studies teacher, Mr. Campbell and my college literature professor, Dr. Trimmer. (It has always been kind of hard for me to narrow things down.) Mrs. Washler taught English my sophomore, junior and senior year of high school—all during the 80’s. It’s rather sad when you’re young and take for granted people who work so diligently, often with a great deal of personal sacrifice, to pour into your life. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked her.

I loved Mrs. Washler’s classes. It was there I learned the riches of great literature, how to diagram a sentence, and the depths of poetry. She taught me how to write research papers and to look for greater meaning in the pages of a book than what lies upon the surface. To this day I can vividly see her standing in front of the class with great animation explaining Mark Twain’s bent toward social reform and why “Et tu, Brute?” in Julius Caesar was so significant. It is because of her I love great literature.

It is a very real fear of mine she might actually one day find this site—I’m sure I break the rules of grammar on a regular basis. Nonetheless I am dedicating this post to you, Mrs. Washler. Thank you for the investment you made in my life. Whenever I finish a great book I remember who inspired me to pick it up in the first place. My life is so much richer because of you!

Spirit Day

Our school colors are blue and gold—which is why Ashley and Jonathan had blue hair for Spirit Day. We are so thankful for the small school they go to. Though it is 30 minutes away, we feel like it is worth the drive. As an extra bonus, one of the teachers lives near us and does a lot of the transporting to and from. What a huge blessing she is!

In addition to the emphasis on academics, there is a strong emphasis on building Godly character. They wear uniforms (which I LOVE) and have chapel once a week.

During the recent annual speech meet, Ashley jumped WAY out of her comfort zone and landed herself a place in the district meet. She is working diligently to perfect her speech and bring home a blue ribbon next month. Somewhat to our surprize, Jonathan didn't fare as well. Jonathan is a master at memorization. He memorized every single speech in his class! When our church did a children's play, Jonathan memorized EVERY SINGLE LINE. This proved to be helpful when other kids forgot their cue. Though he had his speech down to perfection in our living room, Ashley said he shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot over and over as he gave his speech. Jonathan was very sad to not get to represent his school at district.

I have a feeling his day will come. Jonathan just seems to be good at everything he does. (Uh, I know I'm his mom, but that isn't my gene package). Jonathan's good friend Mackenzie will be representing the second grade at district. I was talking with Mackenzie's mom a couple of days ago. She said he told Makenzie to look out next year because, "You're goin' down!" I think that's a pretty good sign his ego is recovering.

Nice job Ashley! We are so proud of you!! And Jonathan, I have no doubt you'll make it next year!

Painting With Cats

I only needed a 10 minute window. Cole had just fallen asleep for his nap and Nicholas had just woken up from his. The paint was open, the twelve foot ladder in place and I have been trying to get this project done since before being pregnant with Nicholas.

The house we bought a little over two years ago came with a really, really ugly shed—I’m guessing older than the ages of myself, David and all of our kids combined. Originally we intended to burn it down. But since the roof was intact and no moisture was getting in, we decided it was a rather convenient place to store lots of junk—which one might understandable deduce our garage is therefore junk-free. (Only in my dreams!)

So since the shed was going to stay, I’ve been longing for quite sometime to just complete the paint job and be done with it. Note to all readers considering painting exterior buildings—DO NOT CHOOSE RED!! It is very hard to work with, requires a gray primer first, and if you drip your white trim paint on it . . . it takes several steps to get it red again. Aaaaagggghhhh!!!!

I put Nicholas in his stroller and parked him near my project. As soon as I was on top of the 12 foot ladder with my paintbrush and paint can in hand, I noticed one of our neighbors’ beautiful, indoor cats was eyeing my sweet son the way most cats eye a fat mouse. After ignoring my commands to, “Get lost”, I descended my 12 foot ladder and shooed him away. This scenario repeated itself 3 times before BRILLIANCY took over and the cat became an occupant of the shed I was painting.

Once again I ascended my 12 foot ladder only to find the neighbor’s other really beautiful, indoor cat trying to jump in Nicholas’ stroller. For the 4th time I descended the ladder. I guess he knew he was about to join his fellow kitty inside my shed because he quickly ran under the porch. Once again, the non-blonde side of my brain kicked in. I barricaded the small opening under the porch and for the 5th time ascended my 12 foot ladder.

I was right. Ten minutes was all I needed and the red paint I started nearly a year and half ago is now complete. In case any cat lovers are wondering about my neighbors’ beautiful, indoor cats—I released them to the wild . . . uh, the wild merely being our yard.

Timing Is Everything

Oh sure. It was the day report cards were handed out for the quarter. So during the basketball game, I let my curiosity get the best of me. While digging in Ashley’s backpack for her report card I totally MISSED seeing her make the FIRST BASKET of her life!! The other parents were clapping, screaming (a little out of control) and asking me, “Did you see that?” What is up with my timing?!

Ashley is such a tiny little thing. The fact she is in the fifth grade while most of our opponents are in either 7th or 8th only exaggerates the issue. Watching her in the huddle during a timeout I thought, “How did we get here?” It seems like just yesterday she was a baby. My mind flashed back to her nursery, the toddler years, the day she started kindergarten . . . how is it possible she is now a tween? She still has the little chubby cheeks she was born with and that great big grin she used to greet me with from her crib.

When David (serving as one of the officials) called a foul on her, it brought me back to the present. The growing up years are so short. Each stage is a gift. I don’t want to miss a moment . . . which is why I was overjoyed when I saw Ashley make the SECOND basket of life.

Way to go Ashley! Who says short people can’t be great basketball players?!

Henry’s Here!

Cole and Henry
Originally uploaded by °Beth.

A few months ago something very exciting happened in Cole’s world—his cousin Henry moved to Texas!

Cole and Henry make a good pair. They both love trains, fast cars and Go, Go Diego (the male counterpart to Dora the Explorer).

Cole has spent a great deal of time with Henry . . . visiting the Science Place, the Caldwell Zoo and the Brookshires Museum and the Lindale Park, not to mention the trampoline in his backyard.

The other day Cole was VERY excited because he knew this was the day Henry was coming over to play. From the moment he woke up he kept asking me when Henry was going to get here. I kept replying, “In a few minutes.”

His dad was delayed a little bit because of some cement work they are needing done . . . and the guy stopped by on that particular morning—meaning Cole’s anticipation was drawn out even more. But at last I heard Cole squeal with delight, “Henry’s here, Henry’s here, Henry’s here!” What fun these two cousins have together.