Here's how it works:

1. Go to http://www.photobucket.com/ (don't sign in)
2. Type in your answer to the questions below in the "search" box
3. Use only the first page of photos
4. Click on THE PICTURE you like best
5. Copy the html and paste for the answer
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1. What is your first name?

(I cheated on this one. First I typed in Missy and got pictures of girls and dogs. Then I typed in Melissa and got the same. I then went back to Missy and tried the second page where I found this picture!)


2. What is your favorite thing to do?



3. What is your relationship status?

(Married. Notice the warm sunshine in this picture?)


4. What is your favorite color?

(Yellow and pink)


5. Who is your favorite celebrity?

(I don't really have a favorite celebrity, but I really like Bill Pulman's acting.)


6. What are you listening to right now?


(Florescent light humming and traffic outside my window.)


7. What is your favorite movie?
(I don't know! I never can pick ONE that is my favorite. I choose by mood as poor Jeremy can attest to. Umm, how about...)

(While You Were Sleeping) Ha! Did you guess that one?


8. What is your favorite beverage?
(That also depends on my mood, but usually...)



9. What is your dream vacation?

(Camping)


10. What is your favorite dessert?
(Oh boy, I'm not really a dessert person. I like chips and popcorn better. OH! I KNOW!)

(Chocolate Eclair Cake, for which I am still recipe searching. I wish I knew the lady in the picture!)


11. What do you want to do when you grow up?




12. What do you love most in life?

(Maybe I'm a little sun-deprived right now, and that makes it tough to be objective.)


13. One word to describe yourself?

HAPPY!

I will be out of the office today. Craig, Kathy and I will be hosting a booth at a nearby company. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow with stories of interesting people that I met...or maybe not.

You'll have to wait and see!

Dear Diary:

Aug. 12 - Moved into our new home in Iowa. It is so beautiful here. The hills and river valleys are so picturesque. I have a beautiful old oak tree in my front yard. Can hardly wait to see the change in the seasons. This is truly God's Country!

Oct. 14 - Iowa is such a gorgeous place to live, one of the really special places on Earth. The leaves are turning a multitude of different colors. I love all of the shades of reds, oranges and yellows; they are so bright! I want to walk through all of the beautiful hills and spot some white tail deer. They are so graceful, certainly they must be the most peaceful creatures on Earth. This must be paradise!

Nov. 11 - Deer season opens this week. I can't imagine why anyone would want to shoot these elegant animals. They are the very symbol of peace and tranquility here in Iowa. I hope it snows soon. I love it here!

Dec. 2 - It snowed last night. I woke to the usual wonderful sight: everything covered in a beautiful blanket of white. The oak tree is magnificent. It looks like a postcard. We went out and swept the snow from the steps and driveway. The air is so crisp, clean and refreshing. We had a snowball fight; I won! The snowplow came down the street. He must have gotten too close to the driveway because we had to go out and shovel the end of the driveway again. What a beautiful place. Nature in harmony.

Dec. 12 - More snow last night. I love it! The plow did his cute little trick again. What a rascal. A winter wonderland. I love it here!

Dec. 19 - More snow. Couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work in time. I'm exhausted from all of the shoveling. And that snowplow!

Dec. 21 - More of that white stuff coming down. I've got blisters on my hands and a kink in my back. I think that the snowplow driver waits around the corner until I'm done shoveling the driveway.

Dec. 25 - White Christmas? More stinking snow. If I ever get my hands on the turkey who drives that snowplow, I swear I'll castrate him. And why don't they use more salt on these roads to melt this stuff ??

Dec. 28 - It hasn't stopped snowing since Christmas. I have been inside since then, except of course when that meany "Snowplow Harry" comes by. Can't go anywhere, cars are buried up to the windows. Weather man says to expect another 10 inches. Do you have any idea how many shovelfuls 10 inches is??

Jan. 1 - Happy New Year? The way it's coming down it won't melt until the 4th of July! The snowplow got stuck down the road and the crazy head actually had the gumption to come and ask to borrow a shovel! I told him I'd broken 6 already this season.

Jan. 4 - Finally got out of the house. We went to the store to get some food when a deer ran out in front of my car and I hit the beast. It did $3,000 in damage to the car. Those beasts ought to be killed. The hunters should have a longer season if you ask me.

Jan. 27 - Warmed up a little and rained today. The rain turned the snow into ice and the weight of it broke the main limb of the oak tree in the front yard and it went through the roof. I should have cut that old piece of bark into fireplace wood when I had the chance.

May 23 - Took my car to the local garage. Would you believe the whole underside of the car is rusted away from all of that salt they dump on the road? Car looks like a bashed up, heap of
rusted cow pie.

May 10 - Sold the car, the house, and moved to Georgia. I can't imagine why anyone in their crazy mind would ever want to live in the forsaken State of Iowa!


Someone sent the above Diary to my email inbox, and I just HAD to post it...because I think we're all going a little snow crazy, and I can completely identify with the sentiments expressed. While I am not yet ready to move to Georgia, or anywhere else for that matter, I am craving sunshine, warmth, green grass. All I want is a weekend away.

I'm just waiting for Spring. Up until last week, I enjoyed each little snowflake as it swirled to the ground, but I'm all snowed out now. Last week's three snowdays did me in, and the storm last night and this morning was just icing on the cake. I have actually started visualizing what the road would look like if it weren't icy white and what the grass might look like if 12 foot drifts weren't piled on top. As my imagination takes hold, I can feel the tension melting and my shoulders and lungs relaxing.

Oh Spring, wherefore art thou?

My favorite Valentine's Day was the day that Jeremy first told me "I love you."

We were attending college in Florida at the time. We had been very good friends for over a year, and we had been dating for the past several months. As we stood in line outside the overflowing cafeteria, waiting for our turn to enter the building and pick up our to-go boxed supper, I stood gazing up at the full golden moon in the periwinkle twilight sky. I remember how the bottom curve of the moon seemed to balance on the top branch of a nearby oak tree, and I thought to myself, What a beautiful, perfect evening. Jeremy stood behind me also watching the moon, we were so close together that my back almost touched his front. He leaned in close to my neck and with a low, gravelly voice quietly said into my left ear, "I love you."

My heart leaped inside me because I had been waiting to hear those words from him. But I did not want him to say that only because it was Valentine's Day, and I wondered if he would feel pressured or trapped now that he had finally said it to me. (Did I mention that I tend to overthink things?) So I gave him an escape route. Without turning around, pretending to be preoccupied with the moon, I casually murmered, "What?" as though I had not heard him.

He turned me around to face him and looked directly into my eyes. "I love you, Missy," he said firmly and decisively and with an amused smile on his face. He knew me very well.

I smiled sweetly up at him and said matter-of-factly, "That's good. Because I love you, too."

And what had I done for him that Valentine's Day, you ask? Well, early in the morning, I had snuck over to where his car was parked on campus, and I TP'ed the whole thing. I hung empty Walmart bags from his back bumper, and tied sad looking red and pink balloons to his side mirrors. With special window paint, I wrote HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! across his front and back windshields.

Because I'm romantic like that.

This past weekend, Jeremy decided that he needed new shoes. Now, you have to know Jeremy in order to be shocked by that statement, but let me tell you one thing. Jeremy NEVER spends money on himself...in fact, he barely spends money on us! I have to fight for grocery money, clothing money, school money, entertainment money. It all goes through the dreaded budget filter. Every pair of underwear and socks that Jeremy owns is covered in holes, but he refuses to buy more. His tennis shoes are years old, floppy, fraying and filthy, yet he insists that we cannot afford to buy new ones.

You can imagine my shock at his suggestion that we enter a locally owned shoe store this past Saturday even if it was "just to look."

I immediately jumped at the chance.

Inside the store, the salesmen and women were instantly charmed by Liberty's smiles and silliness. Liberty is very outgoing, and she loves to make anyone around her laugh. She began playing Peek-A-Boo with the workers, and soon a crowd had gathered. This gave Jeremy and I a chance to examine shoes.

After a little while, I noticed the children's section, and my curiousity got the best of me. I asked a sales lady to size Liberty's foot because I have been unsure of what size she should be wearing. The lady pried off the size two shoe that Liberty was wearing and proceded to inform me that Liberty should actually be wearing a size five! I was horrified at the thought that I had been cramming poor Liberty's foot into a size two every day when she should have been wearing a size five. Jeremy thought it was hilarious and of course, has not yet stopped teasing me about my awful mothering skills.

We quickly tried a size five shoe on her, and Liberty happily tripped off to entertain her new fans. We all noticed a difference in her stride, and my feeling of guilt grew.

Jeremy continued to shop for tennis shoes for himself, but he asked me several times if I thought we should purchase the new shoes for Liberty or not. I knew certainly that she needed shoes that fit her, but I could not swallow the price of these shoes. I pulled him off to the side away from the salespeople and quietly pointed out the fact that Walmart would have shoes for less than $10.00 for her, especially since she wouldn't be wearing them very long before her feet grew again. He nodded, appreciating my thriftiness and picked up the shoe box that had contained the size fives that were now on Liberty's feet. While I watched Liberty, Jeremy strode purposefully up to the counter...AND PAID FOR LIBERTY'S NEW SHOES!

My jaw dropped.

We then quickly left the store because Jeremy had spent the money on Liberty that he had planned to spend on himself. I thought he would be sad not to have shoes for himself, but instead, he has been walking on sunshine, thrilled with the fact that he was able to provide new shoes for his daughter. "And they're expensive!" He keeps repeating to me. Like that makes them more important or something. But in reality, it does make them more important, because it is so uncharacteristic for Jeremy to spend more money than necessary.

Over the past few days, people on the street and at church have stopped us and commented on "What cute shoes!" Liberty smiles up at them, happy to have a new friend, but Jeremy's chest swells and his chin stands just a tad bit higher in the air. He catches my eyes and gives a satisfied look. It cracks me up, and it catches joyfully at my heart. I love the fact that Jeremy gets such joy out of providing frivolously for his daughter. The fact that she is oblivious to his sacrifice and the greatness of his gift makes it even more wonderful to me, and it makes me think of the many frivolous gifts God gives me that I am oblivious to.

Now if I could just get Jeremy to buy me some cute shoes!

Last Wednesday, my regular babysitter, Chris, called to say that her child had a fever and was vomiting. Thankfully, Wednesday and Thursday were snow days so we all stayed home together snowed in, and Liberty did not need to go to a babysitter. On Friday, Chris called again to say that her house was still disease-ridden. I called my backup babysitter, Sonja, who gladly cared for Liberty instead.

On Sunday night, Chris called to tell me that her two other children had the symptoms, and Chris herself was not feeling well. I called Sonja, who told me that although she would be available to babysit for the entire rest of the week, she already had plans for Monday. I called fifteen people on Sunday night and early Monday morning, but most of the families that I called had someone sick in their house. So I took Liberty to work with me on Monday and pulled out the phone book to find friends who could babysit. Craig tried to help out by making suggestion after suggestion, but after two hours of phone calls, I found out that most of the town is ill, including Craig's youngest son, which prevented Kathy from babysitting Liberty.

I didn't mind having Liberty at work with me, in fact, I rather enjoyed it. She is very easy-going and everyone agrees that she is delightful to be around. She found a rubber lizard in one of the desk drawers and loved wiggling it, watching its legs flop around. However, as her naptime drew near, small head bumps and trips over her new shoes became gradually more tragic. Finally, a lady returned my call who had a home daycare service. She told me that one of her regular children did not come in today (due to sickness) and she could take Liberty for me...just for Monday. Her home is only a few blocks from my work, so I drove Liberty over and helped her settle in.

On Monday afternoon, Chris called to tell me that she had taken a turn for the worse and to let me know that the school sent a note home informing parents that Fifth's Disease was spreading through our town.

I looked up Fifth Disease on the internet and here is what I found:

Fifth disease begins with a low-grade fever, headache, and mild cold-like symptoms (a stuffy or runny nose). These symptoms pass, and the illness seems to be gone until a rash appears a few days later. The bright red rash typically begins on the face. Several days later, the rash spreads and red blotches (usually lighter in color) extend down to the trunk, arms, and legs. The rash usually spares the palms of the hands and soles of the feet. As the centers of the blotches begin to clear, the rash takes on a lacy net-like appearance. Kids younger than 10 years old are most likely to get the
rash.

Older kids and adults sometimes complain that the rash itches, but most
children with a rash caused by fifth disease do not look sick and no longer have
fever. It may take 1 to 3 weeks for the rash to completely clear, and during
that time it may seem to worsen until it finally fades away entirely.

Certain stimuli (including sunlight, heat, exercise, and stress) may
reactivate the rash until it completely fades. Other symptoms that sometimes
occur with fifth disease include swollen glands, red eyes, sore throat,
diarrhea, and rarely, rashes that look like blisters or bruises.
In some cases, especially in adults and older teens, an attack of fifth disease may be followed by joint swelling or pain, often in the hands, wrists, knees, or
ankles.

Parvovirus B19 infection during pregnancy may cause problems for the fetus.
Some fetuses may develop severe anemia if the mother is infected while pregnant — especially if the infection occurs during the first half of the pregnancy. In some cases, this anemia is so severe that the fetus doesn't survive. Fortunately, about half of all pregnant women are immune from having had a previous infection with parvovirus. Serious problems occur in less than 5% of women who become infected during
pregnancy.

So Fifth Disease is not really a big deal...unless you are pregnant, because it could kill your baby (maybe). Chris and I agreed that Liberty and I should stay away from their house for a while because they have three more kids who have not yet succumbed to the virus and who could easily be carrying it. So I called Sonja to see if she would like to babysit for the rest of the week as she had previously offered.

She told me that her husband had become sick overnight. Yikes!

I live in the frozen tundra.

Yesterday, I heard on the radio that it was going to get up to 30 today, and I cheered.

What's wrong with that picture?

Yesterday, God sent my friend Kathy to me bearing Cheeseburger Chowder just when I needed it most.

I have been having a rough few nights recently. Nightmares. Horrible, frightening nightmares that wake me up full of fear. I don't know why this is happening, but I really, really don't like it. Tuesday night into Wednesday had been particularly frightening, and I couldn't seem to collect my thoughts or get my act together on Wednesday morning. I spent most of the morning trying to run errands and attempting to focus on my work, but my thoughts were worried and jumbled. My actions harried.

Around noon, Kathy breezed into the office and said, "Hi! I'm treating you to a bread-bowl of Cheeseburger Chowder at Smokey Row. Let's go!" I dutifully donned my coat, locked the office, put out the GONE TO LUNCH sign, and trudged wearily down the street with her.

An hour later, warmed by chowder, heart-to-heart discussions and laughter, Kathy and I embraced. As she passed through the doorway, I happily pondered the difference in my spirit.

I'm so thankful for friendship! :-)

Until yesterday, I had never heard of "She Speaks." I have a list of blogs that I read on a daily basis, and yesterday, Linda at 2nd Cup of Coffee wrote about "She Speaks." After reading her post, I decided "She Speaks" was a Christian conference for women, and I thought no more about it other than a mild curiosity.

Today, Big Mama's post had a button linking to "She Speaks," so I checked it out just to satisfy my mild curiosity. Here is what I found.

Astonished, I realized that I know Lysa TerKeurst...well, maybe not know her, but I listen to her on the radio every day. She always has little tips for wives, moms, ladies about how to continue to walk closely with God. I love her little radio tips!

I read more about the conference and found out that they have a session for writers:

For Writers: You have had a passion for writing and have even had people
encourage you to write a book, but have never known how to get started on the
pathway to publication. You will have the chance to attend sessions taught by
some of the top Christian publishers and make appointments to pitch your book
proposal. Or maybe you are a blogger and just want to learn how to more
effectively connect with your readers and increase the impact of your blog. What
better way than to sit in sessions taught by three of the most widely read blog
authors: Boo Mama, Big Mama, and Rocks in My Dryer. Whatever the case may be,
after attending this conference you will:
>Discover your unique writing voice and the mechanics of effective writing
>Understand what publishers are looking for and how to write proposals that get their attention
>Better understand how to build your writing portfolio by getting published in magazines
>Know how to write a book that will impact your reader from start to finish

That gripped my heart, and I felt my lungs squeeze inward ever so slightly. I don't know why this is so hard for me to share, but I have been writing a book for years now, and I want it to be published. I know that God has called me to write. He has given me a burden to reach others through stories and a heart to minister through novels. In fact, I have ideas for a trilogy of books and many other stories in my head begging to be written.

There, I said it. I'm having a mild panic attack now.

Honestly, I don't know why letting others know about my dreams scares me silly, but it does. Maybe I am afraid of failure. Maybe my pride is afraid of public failure. Many people have encouraged my writing. In fact, many of my blog readers have commented that I should write a book. Every time I read those comments, I am encouraged and frightened, "Do they know? No, they can't possibly."

Well, Proverbs 31 ministries is hosting a contest giving away a free ticket to the conference, and in order to enter the contest, I need to post on my blog why I want to win. So here I am, posting on my blog. I want to win because I want to write freely, and I want to learn how to find a publisher or editor or someone to help me fulfill this calling.

So now it's out in the open. And maybe God just wanted me to be brave (read humble) enough to put it out in the open, whether I win the contest or not.

American Gladiators used to be one of my very favorite TV shows when I was a kid, so the commercial I saw a few weeks ago stating AG's return started my little heart going pitter-patter in anticipation.

Back then, American Gladiators had several things going for it. For one, it's spot on Saturday mornings started late enough that I could sleep in and still be up in time for the show. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for Air Wolf whose theme song always woke me up from the living room where my brothers and sisters were watching it, but it just could not entice me out of bed. Many mornings, I listened to the entire show before dragging myself out of bed and into the shower. I would then fix myself some breakfast/lunch and sit down to enjoy American Gladiators. Oh yeah, and to drool over Turbo, who I had a significant crush on.

My brothers and sisters and I would choose our player and then cheer them on throughout the show with shouts of "Duck!" "Go NOW!" "Hit him harder!" "Run!" At the end of the Eliminator Challenge, we would fall back onto the couch cushions just as exhausted as the contenders. And often, we would then use those couch cushions to immitate the pugilist Joust or to climb the Pyramid.

So it was with great anticipation that I tuned in last Monday to the new American Gladiators show. And married and grownup though I am, I still checked to see if Turbo was there. He was not.

It took about five minutes for me to wonder what else was on. This realization saddened me, and I determined to watch until the end without switching channels. By the end of the show, I was relieved, and I analyzed in my mind why this was the case.

There were no significant differences between this episode and any of the old episodes. The challenges were the same as I remembered, and I was glad that they had not been changed. I had to pick Kimmie up from cheerleading in the beginning of the show, so I only got to see the last thirty minutes. Maybe that was the problem.

But in my heart, I know the difference. It's just not the same without Nate, Hannah, Charity, Joe, Zach, Faith and Pete all yelling at the screen with me.

I live in a town that proudly waves their Dutch heritage high overhead. Phrases like, "If you ain't Dutch, you ain't much," and "Proud to be a tightwad Dutchman," regularly flutter in the breeze. The word "Dutch" seems to be used synonymously with frugality and thriftiness around here. But last night, I witnessed the epitome of Dutchness.

I attended a play at Kimmie's new high school building.

We entered a room with "Chapel" posted on the double doors and were shown to our seats in an an auditorium that rivaled most elegant theaters. Gazing at the beautiful surroundings distracted me from obtaining a program, but half-way through the first act, I leaned over and whispered to Kimmie, "Did you get a program?"

"No," she whispered back.

At intermission, I left the auditorium to use the restroom. On my way out, I noticed several people returning programs to a large stack sitting off to the side. Along with many other people, I scooped one up then returned to my seat. Kimmie and I read it together throughout the rest of the intermission, and I continued to watch as person after person finished reading their program, and returned it to the stack, while others would come by and pick one up. The stack never visibly shrunk or grew. There were obviously enough programs for everyone in attendance to have their own, yet these people could not suppress who they are.

They are Dutch.

Completely.

They would take turns reading.

When the play finished, I purposefully watched to see what would happen with the programs. The pile grew and grew as audience members deposited their reading material. I had to smile to myself, and for some reason, it gave me a comfortable feeling to see this Dutch quality acted out.

Now, I know thriftiness is a stereotype of the Dutch, and I know that not all Dutch are frugal. But it just feels good to know that the majority of the people in this town choose to care not only about pinching their own pennies, but also pinching pennies for their school and for their neighbors. I've seen this quality acted out in other instances too, throughout town, not just at our school. It gave me a feeling of family: sharing, caring, taking turns, waiting.

I fully believe that if a person in town were to read this post, they would be puzzled. Because these actions are not thought out, they are part of the fabric of who the people in this community are. I'm not putting them on a pedestal, or romanticizing; I'm just saying I'm thankful to be part of them.

I can't think.

I can't write.

I can't function.

Where is my brain?

I am sitting at the computer, desperately attempting to blog, but nothing comes to me. My mind is a wasteland of emptiness.

Yesterday, I wanted so badly to blog, but when I tried, nothing came out of my fingertips. So far this morning, I have been an extremely productive employee. I sit at my desk, thinking, "I should do something. I really should do something." But there is no energy.

Then I glance at my list of things to do today, and I think, "Hey, I could do that one." So I complete one item on my list, and then think, "I should do something. I really should do something."

Why can't I move?

Oh, and who is the genius who decided that pregnant women should not take cold medicine, I ask you? It was probably a man who never had been and never would be pregnant. He thought, "What's one more inconvenience to a body that is already putting up with backaches and headaches and nausea and sleeplessness. If she can put up with that, surely she can suffer through a little cold that only inflicts stabbing sinus pressure against the back of her face, and allows mucus to drain down the back of her throat at all hours of the day and night, thereby ensuring more nausea."

She is woman! She can do anything!

I'm done complaining now. Because really, I'm thankful to have this baby inside...even though he or she is eating all of my brain cells.

I decided a little while ago to read straight through my Bible from Genesis to Revelation. I did not put myself on a schedule like I have in the past, but instead chose to read leisurely through. Some days I read only a verse or two, and some days I read several chapters. It just depends on the day.

I am currently at the end of Deuteronomy, and last night I read the part where God told Moses he would not be allowed to enter the Promised Land.

"This is because...you broke faith with me in the presence of the
Israelites...and because you did not uphold my holiness among the
Israelites. Therefore, you will see the land only from a distance; you will
not enter the land I am giving to the people of Israel."

Moses is probably my most favorite person in the Bible. I'm not sure why exactly, but I identify with him quite a bit in his struggles and in his victories. I feel like he and I would be good friends if we lived in the same time and place with each other. Anyway, I felt very disappointed for him last night. More than disappointed, I guess. I was very, very sad for him.

I remember when he "broke faith" with God. At the time, it seemed like a very simple variation. God had told him to SPEAK to a rock and water would come out of it for the thirsty people in the desert. Instead, Moses was angry at the people for their lack of faith in such a wonderful God, and he HIT the rock. Water came out of it, and the problem was solved. Life moved on.

Years went by, more than forty years to be precise, and here he is finally at the threshold of the Promised Land. He is going strong for God; he is communicating and leading the people very well. And God pulls him aside, and says, "I'm sorry, but because of your disobedience to me 40 years ago, I cannot let you go into the land. Everyone else here will be allowed to go, but you cannot. Here's another leader for the people. The end."

That reminded me of an incident that Kimmie and I had about a month ago. Kimmie enjoys writing letters to people, and she is great at mailing them. (Unlike myself, who writes letters quite a lot, but NEVER mails them.) I knew that she was coming to the end of her book of stamps, and I had decided just as a nice surprise, to buy a new book of stamps for her when that one ran out instead of requiring her to use her own money for the stamps. She did not know of my intentions. The day that she ran out of stamps, I drove to the store and bought a new booklet. I hid it in my purse and excitedly waited for the afternoon when I would give them to her. That afternoon, she was disobedient and rude, and as a result, I decided not to reward that type of behavior with a gift. I quietly kept the stamps in my purse, and Kimmie never knew what good things she could have had.

A few days later, she asked me if she could borrow a stamp from me, since she had not had a chance to go to the post office. Then I told her the story of the surprise stamps that she had missed out on. I explained to her that God also works this way. He has so many good things that He wants to give us, but we have the power to prevent His good gifts. At the time, I applied that principal only to Kimmie.

But last night, I thought about what Moses had done in his anger. He had "broken faith" with God. Somehow, that phrase really stings. It feels like a hurt relationship. God had relied on Moses to show the people God's character; He had trusted Moses to be an example of God to the people, and Moses had broken God's faith in him.

God is trusting me to be an example of God to my family. I wonder how many times I have "broken faith" with God. Maybe even in something that seems very small. How sad that is. I don't want to miss out on good things that God has in store for me, and I don't want to "break faith" with God.

So I'm thankful that God showed me that truth now, while I'm still 28. I may have broken faith quite a lot in my first 28 years, but with this new awareness, and with God's help, I hope that I will break faith a lot less for the rest of my years or days or minutes that I have left.

About six inches of snow has fallen lightly over our yard, and it reminded me of a story that I wanted to post after our last snowfall.

My three youngest brothers and sister had called me to discuss some mysterious footprints in the snow near the door of their house. They described the prints to me, and asked if I knew what they could be. I guessed a coyote, but I really had no idea. They analyzed the prints, took pictures, and finally looked them up in a book from the library on animal tracks. It turns out, there must be a loose pig in the neighborhood who had come calling at their house. And yes, pig tracks and coyote tracks are vastly different in their appearance. Thanks for pointing that out to me.

All of the excitement caused me to wonder what kind of creatures were roaming outside our house. So I bundled up the girls and we headed outside. We found rabbit tracks and bird tracks and deer tracks and dog tracks. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But then I noticed a pathway worn in the snow leading from our front door to our neighbor's house on the right and another pathway leading from our front door to our neighbor's house on the left. Joyfulness bubbled up in my heart when I realized that we had FRIEND TRACKS in our snow!

All names have been changed to protect the innocent. Well, really to protect me!

Jeremy (name not changed) is sick. Dreadfully, death-bed sick. This morning, we discovered that we had run out of medicine, so I heroically drove down the road to the gas station to pick up some more for him before I left for work.

We live in a town of about 1,400 people. For the longest time, we only had one gas station, but now there are two, the "Old Casey's" and the "New Casey's." I rarely stop for gas in the mornings, so the amount of people standing around drinking coffee and eating donuts in the station really surprised me. Judging from the conversation and postures, I guessed that most of these people are regular morning "stationers."

I weaved between "stationers," looking for the medicine aisle, and absorbed the conversation around me. One topic dominated:

Why had the ambulance come to Norma Jean's house, and why had it driven away in the direction of THE BIG CITY instead of towards the hospital in the next town 20 minutes away?

I read medicine labels while citizen after citizen gave testimony to what they had seen that morning. One man had run to his front window after hearing the sirens, and noticed that it came from the direction of South Street. He mentally "run down a list" of who lived on South Street, and checked off possible victims and possible ailments. (He also generously listed them all for his listeners in the gas station.) Then his phone had rung, and it was Jesse's brother William who told him that the ambulance had stopped at Norma Jean's.

A lady with large curls in her white hair interrupted, "Yes, Betty called me and said she had seen Larry and Pete wheeling Norma Jean out on a stretcher. I sure hope they covered her good and tight. The cold gets into your bones nowadays, and that's not much help if you're already sick." She tisked her tongue, and I watched her curls bounce in a lively fashion from side to side with her head.

A small man with dark leathery skin and multitudes of wrinkles piped up in a voice that sounded like sandpaper scraping sandpaper. "But why did they drive in the direction of THE BIG CITY? Joella saw for herself that they headed West on the highway. Not East. Why would she need to go to THE BIG CITY?"

A grave question indeed. The gas station was silent for a moment, and then the Lady With The Large Curls bobbed her head again. "Well, you know who has a police radio." She looked significantly at Beth behind the counter. Beth looked startled to be looked at so significantly, and she hesitated. "Oh?"

"That's right," Large Curls went on. "As long as she's home to listen to it, she can tell us all about it later today."

Beth suddenly understood who you know who was, and she nodded in agreement.

Several of the people standing around also seemed to know who was being referred to, and they took obvious comfort in the knowledge that they would soon know why Norma Jean had been taken to THE BIG CITY.

I must have had a huge grin on my face when I arrived at the checkout counter, because Beth grinned back at me and said, "Small towns. Everyone needs to know, you know." She winked as I left the store.

This morning, I totally thrashed my babysitter's son and his friend in a knock-down, drag-out, no holds barred snowball fight with the help of my new van -- with whom I have finally bonded.

Liberty and I pulled into Chris's driveway early this morning. Since there was a two-hour delay for school, her eleven year old son Blake and his friend were in the driveway pretending to shovel. I innocently turned the engine off as usual and pushed the button that opens Liberty's sliding side door, the one facing the boys so that she could enjoy the ensuing hilarity. Then I climbed out of the driver's side of the van, conveniently placing the van between me and the boys. Without catching their attention, I quietly collected several snowballs on the ground on my side of the van, then with an Indian war whoop, I began pelting them with the missiles.

Blake and his friend looked up in surprise but quickly retaliated. One boy made snowballs while the other searched for me. After a few seconds, Blake asked, "Where is she?"

"Hiding!" I taunted from my spot behind the van. I used the rear tire to cover my feet and the tinted windows to disguise my shoulders and head. Then I tossed a larger chunk of snow over the roof of the van. It hit squarely on target, covering both of the boys in powdery white. They yelped, and I heard Liberty laugh from inside the van. What a wonderful sound!

I felt fairly safe, until they charged me! They both came running around the back end of the van. I screamed and took off running around the front. I took a hit, and in my retreat, quickly searched the ground for a pre-made ball of fluff. I found two and scooped them up on the run, tossing them quickly over my shoulder at the boys. One found it's mark, but the other fell short. While the boys stopped to find more missiles, I found a snowbank and took advantage of it's possibilities. More balls and better coverage. Those kids didn't stand a chance.

From my new vantage point, I could see Liberty's face. She thoroughly enjoyed our fight, and I know she wished she were part of it. Every time a ball hit, she would squeal with delight. After a few minutes, I knew I needed to quit so I could be at work on time. I leaped from my spot, pelting the enemy with as many balls as I could carry. I rushed to Liberty's side, and unbuckled her, taking MANY hits in the back from those cowards! Liberty laughed the entire time. We raced to the front porch together, Liberty bouncing in my arms, and entered the safety of the front door.

Chris and I calmly chatted while de-coating Liberty and petting the dog. But all the while I was plotting my escape route. I knew the boys would be waiting for me outside, so I deliberately took longer than usual. When I finally guessed that they would have lost interest, I quietly slipped out the front door, and tiptoed to the driver's door on my van. They were standing at the end of the driveway, their backs to me, discussing something tactical, I'm sure. From my fort behind the van, I made several more snowballs, trying to judge my time wisely. As I bent down to make one last snowball, I heard Blake's voice, "THERE SHE IS!!!!" He hissed the words "quietly" to his partner. I heard quick scraping sounds as they drew closer, and knew they were planning an ambush. I had to beat them to it. So far, they did not know how long I had been out there, and they did not know that I had been occupying myself creating ammo.

Holding the hem of my coat with one hand, I used the other hand to dump all my ammo into the concave loading zone. Then with my good throwing arm, I lofted ball after ball into the air over the roof of the van. Through the windows, I could see many of them hitting their targets. Blake and his friend rushed toward a huge hill of snowballs that they must have been making while I was inside, but they were too late. I finished off my final rounds, and hurriedly hopped into my van. Gleefully chuckling at their inability to reach me, I started the engine, and put her into reverse. By this time, the boys realized their impending loss, and began hurtling balls into the side of the van. Thankfully, the balls exploded softly into harmless white powder on contact, so Abbie was not hurt. I backed out of the driveway and rolled my window down once I was in the street. Grinning triumphantly, I stuck my green-gloved hand out of Abbie's window and lazily waved at the boys as I drove down the street.

I'm going to have to drive a tank back to Chris's house this afternoon when I pick up Liberty. They'll be waiting for me.

"God With Us" by Mercy Me:

Who are we that You would be mindful of us?

What do You see that's worth looking our way?

We are free in ways that we never should be. Sweet release from the grip of these chains. Like hinges straining from the weight, my heart no longer can keep from singing!

All that is within me cries for You alone to be glorified, Emmanuel God with us. My heart sings a brand new song. The debt is paid! These chains are gone, Emmanuel God with us.

Lord, You know our hearts don't deserve Your glory. Still, You show a love we cannot afford. Like hinges straining from the weight, my heart no longer can keep from singing.

All that is within me cries for You alone to be glorified, Emmanuel, God with us. My heart sings a brand new song. The debt is paid! These chains are gone, Emmanuel, God with us.

Such a tiny offering, compared to Calvary. Nevertheless I lay it at your feet.

All that is within me cries for You alone to be glorified, Emmanuel, God with us! My heart sings a brand new song. The debt is paid! These chains are gone, Emmanuel, God with us! :-)

Deuteronomy 31:4 "Even if you have been banished to the most distant land under the heavens, from there the LORD your God will gather you and bring you back."

I had my first baby-doctor appointment on Friday. A few snags along the way made it interesting, such as I thought the appointment would last about 30 minutes, and I told Craig I'd be right back in the office. The appointment actually took two and a half hours, and I couldn't get any cell phone coverage while in the building. Then, when I FINALLY left the building, my cell battery had died, making it still impossible to call work and inform them of my whereabouts.

Also, Jeremy was supposed to meet me 15 minutes prior to my appointment so that we could arrive together, but instead, he overslept. Thankfully, my lovely nurse offered to let me use her cell phone to call Jeremy and give him directions to my invasion room.

I mean my interrogation room.

No, that's not right either. Hmm, what are those little rooms called?

Ironically, they drew four vials of blood THEN gave me a flu shot. Just logically speaking, don't you think a person would need all of their blood to help fight off a flu infection? I'm not a doctor, so I'm just wondering.

Over the weekend, I became DREADFULLY, DEATHLY ILL with the flu. Go figure. Thankfully, Jeremy and Kimmie did a great job taking care of me. Oh, and of Liberty.

I have a very nice family. :-)

We had the best time last night, trying to caucus.

Two weeks ago, I looked up the caucus location on the Internet. The Internet told me that for my district, I needed to go to the local high school. I read that information, relieved that I wouldn't have to drive so far. The high school is only a mile or two from our house. Then a friend of mine told me that the caucus would be held at the middle school instead. I knew that I would need to drive 15 - 20 minutes away to a town that I had previously never been to, so I mapquested directions to the middle school.

I rushed home after work and quickly threw a casserole together for supper. Liberty and I then rushed out of the house to pick up Kimmie from cheerleading practice in another town 15 minutes in the opposite direction, making my total trip to the caucus about a 40 - 45 minute drive. We were late leaving her school, so I sped down the highway, knowing that the caucus doors were supposed to close at exactly 7:00 PM. In my mind, I imagined being stopped by a police officer for speeding and begging him to escort me in my hurry to the caucus, but that situation never presented itself.

My printed directions informed me that I needed to make a right off of the dark rural highway at some point, onto a small dirt road. I braked at every turn-off, and at one point even backed up on the highway to revisit a missed road, straining to read the tiny street names printed on the small green road signs. Eventually, we found the right road, and we followed the rest of the directions to...the school's bus garage.

Yes, that's right. I had mapquested directions to the middle school bus garage. Because I'm brilliant like that.

So I parked the car on the side of the road and rang the doorbell of a nearby house. A man answered the door and amidst the raucous barking of his dogs, gave me directions to the actual middle school.

Once at the school, we found parked cars filling the lot and wrapping around the perimeter of the nearest two blocks. I pulled into the lot and found a narrow spot in a line of parallel(ly?) parked vehicles. I nosed the new van in and decided to leave it like that. The only non-parallel(ly?) parked vehicle on the lot. Call me a rebel.

Knowing that the doors were supposed to be closed at 7:00, and it was already 7:15, Kimmie, Liberty and I ran into the school building where we found the entrance manned by five four year olds and one eight year old. The eight year old manfully questioned, "Which party are you with?" Now, I'm registered Independent, but I have decided to vote for Mike Huckabee, Republican, so I told him, "Republican."

"Just down the hall through those double doors into the cafeteria," he pointed. Then he continued his game of tag with the younger children. I smiled, enjoying the innocence and small town typical-ness of this scenario before I headed towards the crowd of people standing in the large room at the end of the hall.

Once there, I quickly found out that my district was meeting at the high school, not the middle school! The high school, if you remember, is located IN MY TOWN, NEAR MY HOUSE, AND I KNOW WHERE IT IS. Kimmie and I looked at each other and sighed. Then we raced back to the van with Liberty gleefully giggling all the way there. She loves for me to run while I'm carrying her. I slid on a large patch of ice just before reaching the van, and she thought that was the greatest way to end our run.

Kimmie and I laughed and joked about our adventure all the way to the high school, 15 minutes BACK to our town. We pulled into the high school parking lot and swirled the van around on some more ice. Knowing that there would be no parking spots left, I pulled onto the sidewalk directly at the front door. I planned on being the last one in, and the first one out. But my plan was not to be.

I had not even turned off my engine or headlights when people began pouring out of the building. Kimmie snorted, "Look! It's over! We're too late!" and then dissolved into helpless laughter. I joined her merriment, thinking of the ridiculousness of our frantic last hour of travel and how useless it had been.

Really, you should have been there. We were so frantic while trying to get there on time, and backtracking on dark roads, and sliding on ice, and ringing strange doorbells, all in our quest for patriotic freedom.

Some people go to Iraq; some people try to caucus!

Yesterday afternoon, I drove to Osky about 20 minutes away to return some faulty PS2 games that Kimmie had purchased with her Christmas money. The benevolently smiling sun and perfectly blue skies attempted to hide the fact that it was only FOUR DEGREES outside my new van.

(I'm struggling to name the van because I haven't bonded with it yet. Jenny, Carrie and Cindy Lou told me their names when I first met them, but this van is giving me the silent treatment. I'm not sure if it's shy or aloof.)

Snowy fields reflected the sunshine. Rolling hills hid large farmhouses from view until the last second. I began playing a one-sided game of hide and seek with the houses, and ended up analyzing their personalities as I passed them. Some rambled in various directions, haphazard homes with a laid back, welcoming air about them. Others stood ramrod straight, windows marching in orderly lines across the front. Some sagged dejectedly with stubborn shutters clinging precariously. I wondered what stories they could tell of happier, family-full times.

On the way home, I assigned myself a reconnaissance mission. We have been invited to a party on Friday, to a home that we have never visited before, and I needed to scope out the lay of the land so that we could find the house with minimal losses on the day of the party. I found the road leading off the main road into the country, so I believe we can make it safely there. However, the directions I have been given show many twists and turns after the road that I found, so we may have a great adventure yet.

Speaking of adventures, tonight is CAUCUS night! I've never caucused before, and I am excited about it. The meeting place is in a small town fifteen minutes away, and I have never been there before. I mapquested it this morning. It looks easy to get to, but I'm a little iffy on the first turn. I hope we get there in time!

We just spent a weekend at my parent's house with all but one of my brothers and sisters and their spouses and dogs and children and toys and clothes and STUFF. And, oh my, it was FUN!!!!!

And way too short.

We arrived at home around midnight last night, tossed everything from the new van into the house and crashed in bed. I am *really* looking forward to going home after work today and cleaning it all up. (She typed sarcastically.)

On the way home last night, Jeremy and I kept each other awake and entertained by mentally designing our basement. We're planning to rent an excavator and dig out a spot for our new French doors in our new walk-out basement. When we finished the basement we decided to build a sun porch, complete with hot tub and play area for the kids...since money is no object, you know.

Our imaginary construction company reminded me of all the times when my mom and I would play "Dream House" together while I was growing up. She and I would hang out in the living room, Mom sipping a steamy cup of coffee and me dangling an open book in one hand. We dreamed aloud, she and I, and together designed and decorated beautiful mansions and cozy cottages, beach houses and farm houses. Dreaming together with Jeremy last night took me back to those days of laziness and laughter, safety and warmth. And of course, the smell of strong, black coffee.

Many, many things have been happening in our lives, but for some reason, I've had a loss of words to describe them. They are easy to describe. Why can't I write?

In November, we found out that we are having another baby! Yay for us! Unfortunately, this has supremely increased my already incredible nostril powers, and I can now smell everything in the entire world. In fact, the sweater that I am wearing right now is emitting a faint odor of kitty litter. We do not have a cat, and I have not worn this sweater to anyone's house that has a cat. Yet I smell kitty litter. Where is it coming from?

I just took the sweater off and sniffed it thoroughly. The smell is not coming from the sweater. Where is that cat! I'm at the office right now. No cats here. I believe my nose is leading me to insanity. Maybe I am smelling a cat who lives three blocks away. Yes, that is probably it.

Moving on.

Last night, we purchased a minivan. A minivan. We are officially old.

It was pretty incredible to see how God worked all of this out. We knew that Jenny would not be able to hold another car seat, so we stopped off at a dealership on Saturday to casually check out larger vehicles. A salesman named Rich talked with us about our needs, and we informed him that we owe more on Jenny than her blue book value so trading in would add about $4,000 to the price of any vehicle we chose to purchase. In addition, because of the new baby, we were actually looking for LOWER monthly payments than we already had. He absorbed all of our information and then offered us a test drive in a hideously ugly van that had NONE of the features we requested and payments that were almost double our current payments. We kissed him goodbye rather quickly and drove out of the dealership with him hanging on our bumper, begging us to stay.

On Monday, Christmas eve, he called my cell phone and invited us back to the dealership because he thought he had found the perfect vehicle for us. I hung up.

On Wednesday, he called my cell phone again. I gave him Jeremy's number because I'm sneaky like that. Jeremy told him in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS exactly what we were looking for and exactly what price we needed our payments to be. Rich hung up.

On Thursday, Rich called Jeremy and described the minivan that he had picked out for us. The payments were five dollars higher than our goal. Jeremy decided that we would go look at the van that evening. When we arrived at the dealership, we looked at all of the white minivans in the lineup, trying to guess which one Rich had chosen for us. We both picked the same one, and hoped that it was THE ONE because we liked the looks of it better than the others. We found Rich, and he took us straight to our chosen one for a test drive.

Long story short, we bought it. The payments are drastically lower than what we've been paying for Jenny. The mileage is lower than Jenny's. The inside is bigger than Jenny. All around, the van is much better for our family than Jenny.

And I'm thankful.

But I really miss Jenny.

Instead of talking out loud to God when I'm spending just some daily quiet time alone with Him, I usually write letters to Him. This keeps my hyper little brain from jumping between three or four topics and never finishing any of them. Last night while I wrote to God, I considered the abundance of people throughout time that have existed on this earth. I thought about what I have to contribute and about how HUGE God is, and how small I am.

In humility, I wrote, "My Master, my Redeemer, my Carpenter, I am nothing special. I am not righteous. I am not worthy..." And while I wrote, the Holy Spirit gently whispered in my heart, "God thinks you're special. He died for you. God counts your faith as righteousness. He has made you worthy."

At work, Craig has been researching a new type of investment where the client pays a certain amount to gain access to this investment. Craig, a self-proclaimed "Tightwad Dutchman," hesitates to charge clients for this service because he is unsure that it will be perceived as valuable by every client. He and I have discussed several times in the last week, what is value? And we have concluded that each person assigns value differently. While one client may choose to accept the fee based on the value of the service provided, another client presented with the same choice, may decide to forgo the added service, assessing it as without value to them.

All of this logic flooded my brain, while the Holy Spirit whispered to my heart. And I realized something: God has assigned value to me. He valued me enough to pay for me. And since God is the Master of the Universe, His opinion matters!

Guess what? On Thursday, I will host my very first family Thanksgiving!

Last year, we collaborated with our friends for the holiday. They brought the meat, and we supplied the house and the fixings. This year, our family is driving to our house, and I get to make all the food, clean the house, put on my apron and pearls and high heels and greet our guests happily at the door. I am SO EXCITED! I feel like a real grown-up.

Also...

I've never made a turkey before.

Send chocolate!

My friend sent me this link to the 2008 Presidential Candidate Calculator. (Thanks, Kristin!)

http://www.vajoe.com/candidate_calculator.html

It asks you a series of questions and gives these instructions: Mark the column for Yes if you support the issue and No if you oppose it. After that, select how important the topic is to you. If you are unsure or have no opinion on a topic, just mark the Unsure column. You will be scored based upon how well you match the current views of each of the 2008 presidential candidates. The calculator also supplies a description of each topic for your convenience.

My top candidates turned out to be:

1. Mike Huckabee - 87.10% match
2. Mitt Romney - 87.10% match
3. Fred Thompson - 83.87% match
4. Sam Brownback - 80.65% match

I am now off to do some more research on these particular candidates. Hey, call me a nerd, but at least I'm a patriotic nerd! :-)

Our family doctor called on Friday.

He said that the CBC conducted at the hospital showed all of Liberty's blood to be in the upper normal range! The two tests done in our family doctor's office were incorrect.

There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with Liberty, and in fact, the brilliant spot light provided by the CBC dispelled the shadow lurking in our corner for good.

Thank you, God! Whatever the outcome, You are worthy to be praised. (But personally, I like this outcome the best.)

PS> Thank you, also, to all of our friends and family who contacted us to pray and support. It's nice to be loved like that :-)

I have not talked about this before, mainly because so far it has just been a lurking shadow in my life, vaguely threatening, but never coming out into the open to do harm. But now, the shadow has moved slightly from it's corner of darkness towards the lighted room where my family lives and laughs and loves.

You may remember the blog that I posted about my brother Peter. If not, you will need to read that post to understand what I am about to write. Our baby girl, Liberty, was born with a few of the physical characteristics that people with DBA demonstrate. Because of those characteristics, her pediatrician in the hospital ran some blood tests for us. He found some anomolies, but nothing exceptionally out of place, and so together, we decided to "keep an eye" on her symptoms.

Liberty Grace turned one at the end of September. At her one year checkup, her hematocrit was low. Not drastically, just one point lower than the range. Our family doctor, a different one than the pediatrician at the hospital, prescribed iron and asked to see her again in one month. Although, I knew a low hematocrit could be a sign of the DBA rearing it's head, I chose to wait a month and administer iron.

Yesterday, I took Libby back to the family doctor for a second hematocrit to see if the iron had helped. It had not. In fact, she is four points lower than last month. Our doctor told us to go immediately to the hospital where they would conduct a CBC to distinguish specific levels of platelets and red and white blood cells. They told me a doctor would call me the following morning to give me the results.

So now, we wait.

I utterly despise waiting. I usually focus on the unknowns and begin to worry. I would rather know that something is wrong, than wait to find out about it. Last night and this morning, I had some long talks with God, and I have chosen to fasten my heart to these facts:

1. God is ALWAYS good.
2. God is ALWAYS in control.
3. If He chooses to do something that I would not choose, like
letting Liberty have DBA, He is still GOOD.
4. So I will praise Him. No. Matter. What.

That is my choice.

Lovely drips of color trickled onto my windshield this morning. As my car passed a maple tree, vibrant reds and oranges leaked down. Warm buttery gold dropped from another nearby tree. Everywhere, sizes and shapes stormed from their upright homes. Large chunks of beige sedately floated to the ground while tiny greens and yellows skipped and flipped happily towards the earth.

I watched as a mother and child holding hands on their way to school walked in the rain of colors. A small boy with a bookbag on his back trudged through the sunny leaves, oblivious to the shower around him. I imagined myself in the swirling drizzle of leaves, raising my face and hands to God, enjoying the beauty of His autumn. My heart delightfully kicked piles of calico carpeting into the air. My arms scooped up loads of lightweight, vibrant paint. God's paint-chips.

Kimmie, Liberty and I finished our drive to school pointing and aaahhing at God's creation. How beautiful He has made our Fall!

James 4:14 & 17 "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes...Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins."

We had a full weekend together as usual. Friday's sunny afternoon found us speeding driving leisurely along the highway towards Newton for Kimmie's permit test. She did not pass the test, but she plans to study again and retake it. Realistically, I would have been surprised if she had passed it this past Friday. She had a book that she was studying from months ago, but she lost it. Since Newton is the only spot to get a replacement book to study from, and it is a thirty minute drive from our house, we decided that it would be a good idea to pick up the replacement book and have Kimmie take the permit test even though she expected to fail it. That way, she could get some practice and see what kinds of questions would be on the test. So, this coming Friday, we are going to try it again, and she fully expects to pass the test this time.

We stopped off at KFC for Friday night's supper and took home a bucket of chicken and some biscuits, then I creamed Jeremy and Kimmie at a game of Clue. (I rock! Oh yeah!) Jeremy chickened out of a rematch, and Kimmie and I played our own version of Clue with just the two of us.

On Saturday, Kimmie and all the other cheerleaders went to Des Moines to spectate at a cheerleading competition that her school is hoping to compete in next year. They were scoping out their competition. Kimmie came home and reported that she had a headache from watching so many cheerleaders move around so quickly, but she is excited to be part of it all next year.

Jeremy, Liberty and I went shopping with Liberty's birthday money while Kimmie was at the competition. We bought a high chair, some footy pajamas and a potty chair. Liberty inaugurated her high chair Sunday at lunch time. She was quite funny to watch. Because her new seat is actually a booster seat that sits on a dining room chair, she sat at the table and excitedly analyzed our eating habits. She kept grinning and with her wide open blue eyes, watched food disappear from our plates. She really enjoyed watching us eat, and we really enjoyed watching her watching us eat.

Sunday morning, Jeremy and I joined Kimmie's youth group Sunday School class, just to see what they were talking about. Almost 30 teens showed up, and Jeremy and I laughed most of the morning at the comments and antics of the class. Their teacher did a great job of communicating truth, and he was fun to be around. They talked about controlling your tongue, from James chapter five, and the teacher challenged the students to see how long they could go without complaining about something. So Jeremy and I decided to take the challenge ourselves. So far, we're doing great! We'll see how long it lasts!

Jeremy is on day shift this week!!!!!!!! He is on a special team at work, so I get to see him every evening after work. Oh! I am so excited to see him this afternoon! Kimmie has a Bible study after school today with a lady from our old church who she really enjoys being with. Parent teacher conferences are this week, and I'm thankful that this year Jeremy will be able to go with me. I don't like doing parent stuff by myself because it feels very lonely, so I'm really glad that the special team came up during this particular week.

I have more to tell you, but no more time. So I'll continue tomorrow.

I am leaving work early this afternoon to take Kimmie to Newton for her driver's permit test!!!!

We are all VERY excited for her to get her permit, and maybe I'm crazy, but I'm looking forward to teaching her to drive. Jeremy is scared out of his mind about it. (Hm, maybe he is "the only sane one here, " as he tried to quip during a family game night several years ago. Except, back then he accidentally said, "I am the only INsane one here," and he has been trying to live down that slip of the tongue ever since.)

Jeremy has this weekend off, so the four of us are planning to do some serious family hang out time. Think games, movies, popcorn and laughter!

And Kimmie and I have a date with an empty parking lot on Saturday! If I can't type on Monday, you'll know that my hand was broken in a collision with a telephone pole. Send chocolate.

Just me, pondering:

Today, Kimmie called from school to ask if she could order a shirt sponsored by our volleyball team that has made it to State. (Woohoo!) She told me how she did not have enough money to pay for it right now, but the money would not be due until Tuesday, and she has a babysitting job lined up for Friday that should give her enough money, and could she PLEASE order the shirt today?

As much as I longed to say yes and hear her happy voice, I chose to tell her no, thinking ahead to future decisions that she will need to make. I kindly explained to her that it is not wise to order something, knowing that you do not have the money to cover it. Yes, a babysitting job is scheduled for the future, but there are many things that could happen between now and then. The job could be cancelled for any reason. You could get sick and be unable to babysit. It is not wise to use money that you have not yet earned. Kimmie hung up the phone, upset with me.

And I thought: In this situation, she probably could have ordered the shirt, and even if her babysitting job fell through, the shirt would have been paid for appropriately somehow. But I am training more for her future than for her present. She needs to learn wise actions now that will help her throughout her life. A shirt is not a bad gift. In fact, it is a good gift. But I know of a better gift: a debt-free, worry-free life.

I wished that Kimmie would realize that I am doing something nice for her, learn the lesson that I was trying to teach her and say, "Thank you for trying to do what is best for me, even if it is not what I originally wanted. Thank you for being willing to be 'the bad guy' in order to give me a better future. "

While I thought this through, Matthew 7:7-11 popped into my mind. "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

My mind continued to wander down that thought path, and I pondered a request of my own that I have been asking God for several years now. I have been quoting "Ask and it will be given to you" to God in a "Well, what's the hold-up?" tone of voice, and He's been sitting quietly...

...wishing that I would realize that He is doing something nice for me, learn the lesson that He is trying to teach me and say, "Thank you for trying to do what is best for me, even if it is not what I originally wanted. Thank you for being willing to be 'the bad guy' in order to give me a better future."

Apparently, God is giving me a better gift than the one that I have been asking for, and I have been very ungrateful.

Last night, Kimmie babysat Liberty for me, and I had a girls' night out!

I went to the home of Mary Kay, one of the ladies in my Sunday School class. Evelyn, Candace and Julie were also there, and we talked and talked.

And laughed and laughed! Mary Kay had a bowl of questions that we passed around and answered, and oh my, the hilarity that ensued!

I learned of Evelyn's husband's affinity for clocks and watches and just about any kind of timepiece, and how despite his love of timekeepers, he is always late. He physically resembles the white rabbit on Alice in Wonderland, so the picture presented was just that much funnier.

Mary Kay treated us to an imaginative story about her children's attack rabbit that she insists was out to get her. The pet rabbit lived outside but would come into the garage for food and shelter. Her washer and dryer were also located in the garage, and she told us how the rabbit would rush her feet (and she claims he was trying to jump up to bite her face) whenever she walked out there to finish laundry.

Julie painted vivid pictures of trick-or-treating when she was a kid. We laughed our way through memories of her and her brother running in fright from a kindly neighbor dressed as a witch and secretly giving "poisoned" candy to their mom for her enjoyment. They would watch closely to see if she had a reaction, and only after they determined the candy was safe would they eat it themselves.

Candace regaled us with tale after tale of crazy customers arriving at her pharmacy window to pick up prescriptions. She and Mary Kay also told us more than we ever wanted to know about Abe and Mary Lincoln! Yikes!

I laughed so hard I choked on my delicious pumpkin cake, and had to quickly glug down some of Evelyn's yummy hot apple cider! Now, isn't that a shame? ;-)

We didn't make it to State. Our football team, formerly 7-1, played the Trojans, ranked 6-2, and lost. The other team is going to State. I'm not sure how that works, because with our loss and their win, the teams are tied at 7-2. Why do the Trojans get to go to State? Can someone enlighten me on how this ranking thing works? I love football for the excitement, but I'm lost when it comes to the technical aspect of the game.

Kimmie had a Great Pumpkin Hunt with her youth group yesterday evening. They divided up into several teams. Each team began the night armed with one car and driver and one riddle which led them to another hidden riddle which led them to another hidden riddle which eventually led them to a hidden pumpkin somewhere in town. The team that found the pumpkin, won the game. Kimmie told me they started at the church, and the first riddle told them to find the largest rock in town. They drove over to Lake Red Rock and under the sign naming the lake, they found the next color-coded clue. After solving each riddle, they had to drive back to the town square and check in with Pastor Greg before embarking on the next adventure. Kimmie's team did not win but had a lot of fun in the process of losing, and the entire group had pizza and a devotional together before ending the night.

After only one suppertime of my will against hers, Liberty has decided that she will eat what is served during each meal. I'm very glad that the learning process was so short, because I was dreading hours and hours spent teaching her to eat what I give her. She cries to let me know that she doesn't like it, but she willingly eats it. Amazing. There have been no more incidents of hitting or scratching. At least not yet, but she has begun crying ferociously whenever something doesn't go the way she wants it to. And she's so cute when she's crying that I have a hard time not giving in to her. But I keep reminding myself that that behavior will not be cute in the future if left unchecked. So I'm pressing onward towards the mark.

Thankfully, Liberty is so much fun most of the time, that the small amount of time spent training is not a big deal. Yesterday, while Kimmie was at her youth group outing, and Jeremy was catching up on sleep, Liberty and I built a fort. We turned her old walker sideways to form one wall, and used a dining room chair to form the other wall. Then we draped a baby afghan over the two to create a ceiling. Liberty loved crawling in and out of the fort using the bars on the dining room chair as a jungle gym. She would climb inside, and then poke her smiling face out at me and giggle. Then she would quickly pull her head back inside, wait a few seconds and repeat the process. We spent about an hour giggling together before she decided to move on to another game. This baby goes NONSTOP, pitching headlong into one adventure after another, and she has the war wounds to prove it. Thankfully, she copes well with bumps and bruises and any other wound that she comes up with.

Sunday morning, just before we left the house for church, (in fact, Jeremy and Kimmie were already in the car waiting) I quickly popped two black shoes onto Liberty's feet. It was not until after church was over, that I looked at her feet more closely and realized that I had put two different shoes on her. One was a size two and the other a size one. They were both left shoes, too! When I checked with the nursery workers, they told me that she spent the entire morning running, and she did not complain once about her poor little right foot being crammed into a too small left shoe!

Speaking of church, I am absolutely LOVING our new church. (I can't remember if I told you that we changed churches or not, but if I didn't tell you...we changed churches!) We have been attending this new church for a month now, and every single time I leave church, I tell Jeremy, "That is exactly what I needed." I've tried to explain the wonderfulness of this new church to my friends, but I have a hard time putting it into words. I receive so much joy and love from being around the members of the church, and it is extremely obvious that they are there, not because it is Sunday, but because they LOVE God and LOVE being with each other. I do not believe that I have ever in my life attended a church this alive! And it's not just a Sunday/Wednesday thing. I know many of the people in regular life, and they are constantly living what they believe. Since we've been going there, three different ladies have had me over to their houses for fun stuff, usually, just chatting with five or six other ladies, and it is so wonderful! The pastor preaches reality. He reads the Bible and then applies it directly to our everyday lives, and he expects us to follow through with what we have heard. It's not just another sermon. It's practical. It's Biblical. It's applicable. I leave, knowing precisely what needs to be carried out in my life for that week and going forward.

It's encouraging. It's convicting. And I wonder, why in the world didn't we find a church like this years ago?

Well, Libby's going through some changes. All part of getting older, but not so much fun for me. She is exercising her sin nature. She has decided that there are certain things that she will and will not do, and there are certain foods that she will and will not eat. So now I get the wonderful job of disciplining. Yesterday, I REALLY wasn't feeling well, and I needed to fight with her over eating her green beans, but after a few times, I decided to put that battle off until the next time we eat them. Which is going to be very soon because I want her to learn that she cannot throw things on the floor and refuse to eat them. She hit a boy a few days ago and later screamed at her babysitter because she was not allowed to play with the newly folded laundry. She has also started scratching my face when she is upset with me. So we have a little (a lot) of training to do, and I am really not looking forward to this stage in her life. I wonder if this is going to be a long stage, or if she'll figure out that I'm the boss pretty quickly and go back to being my fun baby soon.

Kimmie got a B- on her English test!!!! This is one of the two classes that she was failing, and she got a B-!!!!! Can you believe it? She was so excited, she called me from school to tell me the news. Oh! I am so proud of her, not necessarily for getting a good grade, but for diligently and intelligently studying beforehand for this test.

Something else that I am proud of her for...this weekend, she told me that God has been working in her heart and telling her that she needs to start being friends with people in school who do not have many friends. I've seen her putting this into action both at school and at church. Now that's a beautiful girl!

Libby had a doctor appointment on Monday morning, and our doctor declared her hand much, much better. There is no more oozing, and I can see the shiny, new skin growing thicker over her palm. He told us to leave it unwrapped as much as possible so that her hand could breathe in order to heal, but in the short drive from our doctor's office to her babysitter's house, Liberty chewed on the wound enough to break through the light layer of skin. So I wrapped her back up again. I unwrapped her for her bath last night and kept the bandage off all night while she slept. But this morning, she was in a lot of pain again and had a hard time calming down even after receiving her pain killer and bandage. Monday was our last doctor appointment since Libby has healed so much. I've decided to keep her wrapped during the days and unwrapped at night. Although, I might give her a dose of pain killer right before bedtime each night. It is so hard to gauge what is happening with her, since she rarely complains. Her cries this morning were unusual for her, and therefore disturbing to me.

Kimmie has not yet received a grade on her English test, but I am still excited for that to come. She reported that her Journalism test yesterday was a lot harder than she expected because she had studied the wrong definitions, and she has a Math test today that she spent about ten minutes studying for last night. She just looked over her problems, verifying that she understood the examples in the book, so we'll see how this one goes today.

The football team is 7 and 1 with one game left in the season. We are really hoping to be able to go to State. Kim is working hard to get her grades up so that she will be able to cheer if we do go to State, and I have been so proud of the way she is working at this. Last night, the cheerleaders met at Coach's house for a movie and snacks, and Kimmie received her basketball cheering schedule that lasts through February.

Jeremy made a funny discovery after the last football game. We were unable to attend this one, and he stopped by the field afterwards to pick up Kimmie. He asked her what the score was, and she told him, "I don't know, but we won!" He asked several other cheerleaders, and none of them could tell him the final score. One of them said, "I don't pay attention to the game; I just cheer." He and I laughed over that when he came home.

Today, Craig and I are presenting retirement plans to a large company, so I will be out of the office until 5 PM. Craig's dad, George, is having a pacemaker installed in his heart tomorrow, and he and Craig's mom, Dee, are having a rough time waiting. Waiting always seems to be the hardest part of anything. If you would like to, I'm sure Craig's dad would appreciate your prayers for him. George and Dee have become part of my family. In fact, Liberty took her first official walk in their living room, and now George calls her his Little 410, because 410 is their house number.

No, I am not over the weekend, but the weekend is over, so I'll report on it.

I picked Kimmie up from school on Friday, and she excitedly informed me that her English test was EASY! We'll see if her grade ends up matching her confidence level. She studied for a Journalism test over the weekend, and she's taking that test today.

We drove up to Newton so that Kimmie could take a written test to get her permit, but the DMV was closed. So we stopped off at McDonald's drive thru for breakfast, and then headed back home. Kimmie begged to be dropped off at home with Liberty because she wanted to study for her upcoming test, and Jeremy and I continued on to Pella where we enjoyed strolling around downtown hand-in-hand and window shopping. A sign outside of the local bakery told us that Apple Bread was only $1.00 for a small loaf. Jeremy and I read each other's happy faces and wordlessly chose to enter the shop. Inside, two girls from Kimmie's high school greeted us from behind the counter. We purchased our Apple Bread and continued walking in the sunshine outside, sharing torn pieces from our tasty loaf. Of course, we stopped in at the bookstore, because everyone knows that those are impossible to just pass by, and we stopped at a photography studio that Jeremy has been telling me about. He wants to get our family pictures done there, but I think it's going to be pretty expensive. The owner was out taking photographs, so we wandered around, enjoying his artwork and wondering what the prices would be like. We ended our date at Walmart where we talked about Christmas presents for Kimmie and Liberty before grocery shopping for the week.

Saturday evening, after Libby went to bed, Jeremy, Kimmie and I watched some movies that we had borrowed from the Library:

Cadet Kelly with Hilary Duff (Kimmie's choice) was cute and lively, and despite a few eye-rolling moments on Jeremy's part, all three of us enjoyed the movie. We were also able to have a small family talk about the importance of order and discipline in our lives as well as enjoying the artistic and crazy sides of our personalities. Everything in balance is Jeremy's motto, and this movie presented that theme very clearly.

Red Eye, about a hotel manager who is accosted on an airplane, was my choice, and I was pleasantly surprised that it did not end with a lot of stupidity and screaming on the heroine's part the way most suspense thrillers do. Instead, the heroine was creative and determined. The villain was also smart and determined. There were no unnecessary dramatics. I REALLY enjoyed this movie. Tim De Loge would have approved it; it was a thinking man's thriller. (As is Alfred Hitchcock's Twelve Angry Men and Rear Window.)

I also picked up The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy because we had never seen it, and I had heard it was ridiculous. I must warn you that this movie requires a certain mindset to enjoy it. (I enjoyed it, but Jeremy and Kimmie spent most of their time saying, "This is so dumb.") Think Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail which I thought was hilarious or Napoleon Dynamite which drove me to tears for the boring-ness or Space Balls which drew an occasional chuckle from me and much eye-rolling. Now, I wonder if my varying reactions to these movies was due to my own mood at the times of viewing. Anyway, Hitchhikers Guide was silly, obnoxious, ridiculous and surprisingly teaching. Mid-movie, I realized that the writer had written more that just a silly movie. He was searching for the meaning of life. Why are we here? What is our purpose? These questions were asked repeatedly with no real answer ever being given until the end. The writer of the movie had decided that real purpose in life came from finding someone to love, who would love you whole-heartedly in return. After the movie was over, and I was in my wonderful bed, I continued pondering that answer. I realized that many movies, TV shows, songs, you-name-it gives this impression. That true happiness and meaning in life can only come when we find someone to love who will love us whole-heartedly in return, just the way we are. I was amazed, after turning this concept over in my head for a while to realize that that is exactly what God does for us. He loves us whole-heartedly. Not looking for anything in return. Just the way we are. He does not ask us to live up to a certain standard. He does not ask us to give things up to earn His love. He just loves us. He loved us before we even knew He existed. He loved us before time even began. Before the world was created.

He loves.

He loved us so much, that He was willing to die for us. Thankfully, He was also powerful enough to rise from the dead...for us. He took the punishment for all of my sins, even the ones that I have not yet committed, because He loved us. Yes, the movies and the songs and the TV sitcoms are right. Love is the meaning of life. Humans' love for each other is just a picture that illuminates the void we are searching desperately to fill.

That void can be filled. It has been filled in my life! By God. I have accepted His gift of forgiveness. I don't have to measure up, or do good, or be worthy.

Because He loves me the way I am! Yay for me! :-)

My baby woke up several times in the night due to the pain in her hand, which she must have attributed to the gauze wrap. She pulled her bandage off three times, and then screamed when the air touched her flesh. I groggily stumbled into her room to soothe and re-wrap the offending hand. In the last three days, I believe I have had a total of 10 sleeping hours. Unfortunately, Liberty's had even less.

This morning, we visited the doctor again, and I noticed that her hand looks decidedly better. It is no longer bloody, just oozy and red. A thin layer of skin has grown over the previously exposed muscle, and our doctor was pleased with the progress. He set up another appointment for early Monday morning, but he instructed me to call him at home if her burn looks the slightest bit different over the weekend.

Kimmie's cheering at her last home football game of the season, and she is so sad that it might be over. However, our boys are 6-1 right now, with only two games left in the season. (One home, and one away.) They are talking State, so it may not be over yet!!!! Keep your fingers crossed!

Kimmie really struggles with her grades, and last night she and I spent hours studying together for English. Her test is today, and based on the answers she gave me when I quizzed her last night, I think she might get an A or a B on this one! I'm so excited to pick her up from school this afternoon and find out how she thinks she did on the test... I'll let you know on Monday.

Yesterday, Liberty burned her hand while exploring our friend's house. She touched the glass in front of the fireplace. The fire had been out for almost an hour, but the glass was still hot enough to burn her little hand. She now has severe second degree burns on her palm and milder second degree burns on her fingertips.

The fingertips have blistered up, but the skin on her palm has come off, exposing the muscle beneath. It is sick looking, very slimy and bloody, and she screams when air touches it.

This morning, the doctor cut away the hanging skin around her palm. He put a salve on her hand and re-wrapped it. He is very worried about infection since such a large section of skin is missing, and he scheduled us to come in again tomorrow morning so that he can take care of it again.

After screaming all evening yesterday, Liberty has calmed down and turned back into my happy, easy-going baby. She laughs and talks and climbs and runs like normal, and only complains when her painkiller wears off or when she falls forward and breaks her fall with her hands.

I'll keep you posted on what the Doctor says tomorrow.

My creativity has dried up. The muse is gone.

My last post said that I would be too busy to blog, and that was true up until a week ago. I am no longer too busy to blog, but I can't think of anything to blog about. It's not like my life is boring or anything. It's just that I can't seem to come up with the juice to blog it. I've sat down at my computer several times and begun typing, but it was all just words...not interesting, not striking, not funny, not really anything.

So in a desperate effort to get my groove back, I am just going to narrate for a while. Maybe after a few days, weeks or months of narrating my life for you, my groove will return. Hopefully, it will flutter in through an open window and land gently on my shoulder, instead of dive-bombing me and leaving a mess of droppings on my shoulder. (Not sure where that came from, but there it is.)

As I pondered the possibilities of narrating my days, I realized that I had originally started this blog based on requests from family and friends who lived far, far away, and that they might enjoy hearing a daily narrative of our lives. So here goes. Not my favorite style, but at least it will be regular and informative, and what more could anyone ask for, really?

My posts will be random and few for a little while because it is quarterly statement time again! But never fear: I will return.