Harder than I thought

Okay, I know, enough whining but this is harder than I thought. I thought day one might be overwhelming because of the 6 hours of driving we did but I wasn't counting on being so (dare I say) consumed with my thoughts on my son. I find myself wandering off my train of thought to think about what he might be doing. Is he regretting this decision? Is he strong and of good courage? He's probably having such a great time. But I really, really miss him. There is a real hole in my heart. My friend encouraged me today with this..."God is with him. God treasures him and will not abandon him. He alone can be there 24-7, and He alone cares for Simon with a greater love than you have. So continue to pray - that you would know what to pray, and that you will be content to release Simon to his Heavenly Father's care. "In this world we WILL have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have OVERCOME the world" John 16:33. Times of aching can be so hard, but remember that everything that comes your way has been through your Father's hands first. He truly is in control. And everything is working for His good and glory from an eternal perspective. So try and keep your mind and heart stayed on sweet Jesus."
I just love what she wrote. Its God's perfect word in the perfect timing. So, enough about me, because its really not about me at all!

The unthinkable

I just did the unthinkable...I left my first born 3 hours away at camp with total strangers. Mind you, he wants to be there and the adventure he will have will out way my aching heart strings, but really, the thought of doing that on purpose makes me truly nauseous. Now, I know he is going to be just fine and not think of me as much as I think of him...but, ouch. Okay? This really hurts and its hard and its just me whining because I can't control everything that happens to him. Okay, I admit it, I'm a control freak. My name is Samantha and I am a control freak! I homeschool, I must have some bit of control issues. Any way, I'm trying to think of all the fun he's having and the people he's meeting. I sent him with his Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth (B.I.B.L.E) and it's a Christian Adventure Camp. He will have so much fun...I just have to keep saying that so it really sinks in and I believe it. In the mean time, I released him to whom he belongs and that helped a lot. So, this week will be spent in lots of prayer and busy work until I get to go and pick him up. And then I'll feel good again.

Its coming

Okay, yikes, what ever happened to summer???? Our weather is simply weird, but weirder still...school! And more so, my son's buddy leaves for University in a week. I can't believe we know kids that old...because that makes me old (er)...
Anyway, birthdays are coming, camp, camping, and busy scheduals are all on the way.
But, I'll always have summer!

Where I'm From

I found this idea on another very lovely blog that I visit and was invited to participate in that post. So here I am...

I am from outside breezes, from Tide Crisp Linen and candles in the moonlight.

I am from the escarpment, lush and green, full of heavy musky fragrance and comfy familiar shadows.

I am from the Daisy and Cedar mulch carpet, from beaches and waves, seashells and sand between your toes.

I am from Jammie Runs and family bonds, from CJ’s, Grammy’s and Grampy’s and from mysterious relatives of another place and I am strong like them all.

I am from the details in a photograph to the antiques my mom has collected and a story to go with.

From twinsyohs and 6x to Mrs. Beasley and Pillsbury Dough Boy (and pool cue chalk).

I am from Gods workmanship, brought through much to find peace and freedom in Him. Because He knows the plans He has for me, plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future. Jer 29:11

I'm from Canada as are my relatives and relatives before them. eh? I am from Boiled Steak and Taco Night.

From the Race Car Driver, the Fighter for the rights of the child, and the blood is thicker than water mantra.

I am from the photos in the basement, too numerous to handle but too precious to loose.

If you choose to post this too...let me know, I'd love to look in! Thanks Ang.

Cheers

Have you ever had someone say cheers to you at the end of a conversation? I have a few friends that say it and for longest time it sounded so foreign to me...like what you say at a toast, not instead of goodbye at the end of a phone conversation. But lately on the radio, (I listen to CBC while cooking) there is one guy who always says it. So it has caused me to pause and really listen to what is being said. I don't know if I'm even close to getting it right, but, to my ear it sounds so joyous. A person actually wishing another person cheer. What a blessing. So what is Cheer? According to Websters Dictionary it means the following:

1. cheer \'chi(*)r\ n [ME chere face, cheer, fr. OF, face] obs 1a: FACE
archaic 1b: facial expression 2: state of mind or heart : SPIRIT 3:
ANIMATION, GAIETY 4: hospitable entertainment : WELCOME 5: food and drink
for a feast : FARE 6: something that gladdens 7: a shout of applause or
encouragement
2. cheer vt 1a: to arouse to hope or courage when dejected : COMFORT 1b:
to make glad or happy 2: to urge on or encourage esp. by shouts 3: to
applaud with shouts obs 1: to be mentally or emotionally disposed 2: to
grow or be cheerful : REJOICE - usu. used with up 3: to utter a shout of
applause or triumph

I really like those ideas. So to offer someone cheer at the end of a conversation somehow sounds like a wonderful thing to do. So, I hope I remember, my new plan is to try really hard, and offer you dear reader, Cheers, each and every time.

Life with a toddler for four days

Can I say how arrogant I am and how full of myself and my own greatness? I thought for sure, having my niece who is 2 for four days would be a piece of cake. And that I would just manage it all just fine and life would be great for everyone. No problem! Well, again, let me say, I am arrogant. Toddlers are sweet, loving, wonders who need to be fed on a regular basis and actually need you to do it for them, they want to actually take time out of their day to nap, and regularly they enjoy a clean bum and a bath. I have old kids. They do all that stuff all by themselves. My niece needed my 100% attention all the time, which I was prepared to offer. I forgot what 100% actually means...to say I'm tired is an understatement. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I learned more from her in 4 days about myself than I have in 4 years of self discovery on purpose. She is a gem. This little loving toddler takes no prisoners when it comes to the heart. Your all in or forget it. And she is full on in the learning department. She is a sponge. Her language is incredible. My daughter is convinced her little cousin will be 'something smart' when she grows up. My older niece is a joy to be with. She is lovely and sweet, kind and on purpose with her affection. She doesn't waste it. This girl is genuinely beautiful and smart. Watch out world... And little man nephew is my sweet love. This little man delights in the love of his mother. He does all things to bring her joy. He is the little brother to my youngest son that he wanted so much. What a blessing to see these children blend into our family for 4 days. Make no mistake, having extras is work for sure...but its the glorious kind of work that at the end of the day makes you feel like, yeah, that was a great day!

Red Marbles

I was sent this email recently and although it came annonymous I would love to publicly credit the author if anyone knows who wrote it...amazing~

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early
potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged
but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I
paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green
peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering
the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr.. Miller
(the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.
"Hello Barry, how are you today?"
"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They
sure look good."
"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"
"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."
"Good. Anything I can help you with?"
"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."
"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.
"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."
"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"
"All I got's my prize marble here."
"Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.
"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."
"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of
go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner
asked.
"Not zackley but almost."
"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this
way let me look at that red marble". Mr. Miller told the boy.
"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."
Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With
a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community,
all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with
them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red
after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green
marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store."
I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short
time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this
man,the boys, and their bartering for marbles.
Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just
recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho
community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were
having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I
agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to
meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.
Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform
and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and
smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed
her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.
Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man
stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in
the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.
Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded
her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about
her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took
my hand and led me to the casket.
"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.
They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now,
at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they
came to pay their debt."
"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho. With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.


The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind
deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments
that take our breath.

Ontario Court Mental Health Style

Why should we defend ourselves when we are misunderstood and misjudged? Let us leave that aside. Let us not say anything. It is so sweet to let others judge us in any way they like. O blessed silence, which gives so much peace to the soul!"
St. Thérèse of Lisieux

Wow...what a day. My brother has Aspergers Syndrome which is high functioning Autism and he's recently had some issues with the law, partly through his own fault and partly not. So today was the interesting day where we go to court and ask for a hearing. It went well, and with a Mental Health advocate we were able to get a hearing. It amazes me how far we've come in the area of Mental Health but also shows how far we have to go. There are some wonderful people in the world who truly care about the hardest people to look after. Some of these patients look, speak and almost pull off acting what most of society would call normal. But just below the surface lies all kinds of things that make it so hard to live in the world society has created. Aspergers folks are forced to live in our world but participate on their terms. It would be interesting for us to try to walk a day in their shoes. I bet most of us (including myself) would quit as soon as someone looked at us sideways. Our desire to fit in and blend away into the fabric of 'normal' limits us in seeing the shining examples that Aspergers folks really are. My brother judges know one. He accepts people just as they are. What a gift. If we could only accept ourselves as we are, maybe it would be easier to accept everyone else as they are.

Introducing Randy DeBoer

I'm so pleased and excited to promote our friend "Randy DeBoer" who recently released his very first worship CD called "To You Alone". He has written all the songs and music himself and is supported by an amazing worship band from Forestview Church. I encourage those of you who are lovers of worship to check out his pages at www.myccm.org/randydeboer and www.myspace.com/randydeboer where you can sample some of the tracks and meet him. My friend Leah (his wife) is the wonderous angelic voice hovering over his...and if your fortunate enough to purchase a CD (where all proceeds are going to the Forestview Church by the way) you will be in for a treat when you hear track 7 called Heaven written and sung and drummed by their son Jacob. I'm enjoying blogging to you now while listening...what a treat! So welcome to the journey and be blessed by Randy's heart for the Lord. Congratulations guys...

The Teenage Mouth

I just ask the forgiveness of everyone I have ever offended or stung with my mouth as a teenager...especially my poor parents who didn't deserve the wrath of my tongue. Stoma is the Greek word for tongue and it means two edged sword. It has the ability to cut from both sides when applied...I am getting it back 10 fold. Man, oh man...I love my teen...I do, I do. We are experiencing teenage righteousness about now, coupled in with over tiredness, added to a dab of attitude and a washing of raging hormones. I so remember this time in my own life, where everyone was well an idiot and I knew way more. I even remember the raging feeling inside when things were 'stupid'. I think the word for this mality is Pride. It takes maturity to ask for Humility and I know every time I've prayed for it in my own life, God is only too happy to bless me with ample opportunity to practice it. But what do you do when you live with the smartest kids on the planet with an answer to everything? That's what really gets me, the answer to everything portion doled out. I mean I'm not kidding...there is usually a really good point or a logical argument about why I'm wrong. Consequences of homeschooling I suppose...we studied logic. Okay, now I know, I'm dealing with pride and strife and issues of respect and I'll just say now, for the most part, we have really great kids. I know this is true because when they're out in the wide wide world doing good things, someone always tells me what great kids we have. So yeah, maybe they practice attitude here at home, where its safe and unconditional love is available and no matter what is said, they still feel accepted. At the same time, even though this is training ground for life beyond the family home, it is flipping hard to live with. So what to do? I think its time for a pull up your socks talk. I think I'll turn to my favs like Dr. Dobson and Kevin Leman and read some encouragement into me... And then, time for me to land firmly on my knees and pray for wisdom. I think this is the position I found my own mother in most of my teen years and I was just too full of myself to notice she was praying for me...man, thank God for praying mothers.

Survived the heat wave last night

Well it was hot. So hot even the crickets were silent. I mean really really hot. Okay you got the idea. So the soccer game got started late, but our team won. They actually played really well. They don't hover over the ball like they used to. There was some actual passing and some very good discussion on the field. I like passing almost as much as goals, but I'll tell you when my son almost scored...well, it might as well have been me out there. I was so excited. And he kicked with the left foot and the ball grazed the post on the wrong side. Oh well, next week maybe. He's getting there...half the game in net and half at mid. Not bad. The bonus is that he loves it and that's all I care about. It was so funny though looking at all the melting parents on the field. Man...we are pathetic. I include myself in there with the best of pathetics...sighing, moaning, just sitting there baking away while our kids are out there running at top speeds. Yep, only the best for our kids. Are we nuts?

Soccer Night

Its soccer night in our town and yuck, the heat is oppressive...I'm so not looking forward to going. But what am I complaining about, my 9 year old gets to put on long sleeves and gloves and stand in the sun. My name! Hoping they give water breaks tonight...they usually do in this heat. Otherwise, we go home...this isn't a career move at this age and he isn't a Beckham.