The Rat Race

I have spent a couple of my most recent posts  begging for your prayers of wisdom. I have been at a loss, not knowing how best to love a family that is close to ours that is having some difficulty, and now that we do  have some concrete ideas I find that I am back to begging again because the ramifications of putting these ideas into action would have a significant effect every member of our (not so) little family.

Big changes.


So, here is where we are at:

1. We are considering inviting the teenage-girl we have been praying for to live with us for however long God would have her stay. She has before, but she was a preschooler then and well... did I mention she is a teenager now?

 Our hope is that this would give the family some space to breath. There is a lot of raw emotion in the home and we all know it is easier to deal with things clearly when our emotions are not constantly raw or agitated. Our biggest hope is that there is restoration of fellowship for everyone (in the broadest sense possible), and oddly enough this seems to fit.

Logistically, for us this means more cramped quarters, especially for the little girls who would be sleeping four-to-a-room (I never in my life would have dreamed that one day I might need three sets of bunk beds to house my children). We don't live in a large home, but God usually does not seem to care that all the conditions are 'right' when he asks us to do things, now does He?

Darn. I love it when my conditions are 'just-so'.


2. None of my children have ever set foot in a public or private school. We do a home school co-op on Fridays as a family and that is the closet thing they have ever gotten to institutional learning. Our guest, on the other hand, has never known anything but public school and at the current time, traditional public Jr. High is not doing her any favors. However, I am completely overwhelmed at the thought of homeschooling someone who may not welcome it and who will be having enough changes to deal with, thank-you-very-much, without me yanking her out of her comfort zone entirely. So What to do?

Like I said, traditional Jr. High? Not a pretty picture. There is one option that has come to mind, and that is the K-8 magnet school in our town that resembles what an unschooling home might look like if they had a couple hundred children.

We are thinking of taking this route and putting the three oldest girls in together.
One of my girls really wants to go, the other wants-to-want-to-go, but has always had to own the idea of something before she dives in.

We are going to go visit next Tuesday; It is a lottery process to get in but if one member of a household is accepted, any others who apply get to get in too.

We like the size of the school, the fact that it places emphasis on bringing the whole family into the school community (I would probably volunteer one day a week), and yes, I do love the fact that the only assigned homework they give is nightly reading.

That leaves our evenings for us, just as it should be.

We are also hoping that we will be able to still attend our homeschool co-op on Friday mornings while it is in session, because the relationships we are forming have been amazing and our kids L.O.V.E it.  I also want this sweet girl to see true Christian community and only hope that lasting relationships would be formed for her as well.

So yeah, we may be entering The Rat Race.

If you remember, it would mean the world to me to know that you were lifting our situation up.

Not going to lie -I am a bit anxious.

If this is the way He is calling us to serve, then I'll get over the anxiety; Mostly I just need clarity.

We are committed to walk through any door that He opens.

Any words of advice or encouragement are welcome too.

Poured Out

"...[the] power of prayer can never be overrated. They who cannot serve God by preaching need not regret. If a man can but pray he can do anything. He who knows how to overcome with God in prayer has Heaven and earth at his disposal." Charles H. Spurgeon

I carry yesterday's conversation around in my heart, revealing it to nobody, not even my husband. It is too big and too heavy to be named just yet; even I am not sure what it all means. The weight of it causes my everything to ache but I am not ready to pour it out for others to share.

I have listened to another's burdens and walked away feeling so small, so inadequate, so without resources or answers.

I am wondering at what point I will know if my prayers are to become action or if my prayers are action enough?

What does that look like, anyway?

Am I trying to micro-manage or is this a God-nudge?

All I know is that there is a family hurting and a young girl who does not come home anymore on  weekends or until past dark on school nights. She is not doing well in so many ways, and her absences put her in danger.

She is just 13, I think to myself.

Every day after school I can't stop wondering where she is and I pray for her protection. I resist the urge  to call her mother and see, because I know the answer.

Is she home?

I want to bring her home myself because that is what you do with your children.
You go get them.

I have been praying like mad that the fellowship that is completely absent in that home be restored. I want to see a family healed.

I want to love them all, but I don't even know what that means.

Two Little Monkeys

This little monkey is all smiles because his best friend turned two this week, and he knows what two year-olds are like.  

Not only are they super affectionate (prone to toting you around by your tail, just as you prefer), they also know how to make some mean mischief.

Not to mention the fact that two year-olds appreciate jumping on the bed almost as much as monkeys do.

(Note to Monkey, from Mom: I am on to you! Please observe the cautionary tale 'Five Little Monkeys' sitting next to your bed- it is just as much for you as it is for her.)

Yes, I am pretty sure that Monkey looks so smitten because he is dreaming up adventures for the two of you, Ailish.

He is thanking God for the days that he gets to share with you, and

rest assured, he is not the only one.

We love you, 'baby'.

Happy 2nd Birthday!

If You Give a Kid a Camera...

Do you ever go to grab your point-and-shoot and discover that the memory card is full of pictures you know that you did not take? I was planning on letting myself off easy today by doing a Wordless Wednesday post, but when I started to review the contents of the camera I noticed that exact 'something-amiss' going on at my house.


The bulk of which just cracked me up.


*SNORT*


So here you have it- a boys' eye view of the morning through a finger-print smudged lens:

Myles! Myles! Wake up- I have Mom's camera!

This thing still on?

Look, Myles! Inky wants his picture taken! Don't blink, Inky.

Okay, fine! Bear-Bear, you can get in too.

Dude, Yoda! Do you always have to 'Force' yourself into the action? Guys, let's just hurry this along so we can sneak down to the fridge before mom wakes up.

It really does take The Village People  a village to raise a child, doesn't it?

I am just wondering where they were while I was still in bed.

Restorer of Broken Walls

"This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live ²⁰ and that you may love the LORD your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the LORD is your life." ~Deuteronomy 30:19-20

There is a young girl and her family that need your prayers right now and in the coming days. A young girl that I firmly believe was given the chance at life 13 years ago because of another community who committed to stand watch on her behalf. 

 They prayed for a baby that was being knitted together in her mommy's womb; For her mommy and daddy who knew a life that was so difficult that they could not see enough hope in their circumstances to consider bringing another child into the world. 

They pleaded before God alone, and on a November day that I will never forget, the little red headed girl was given a gift.

 Her first breath.

I thank God for that gift and I thank Him all the more that He is not content with giving us breath alone; that His plans for us go beyond what we could ever hope or imagine; that His plans for us are for abundant life.

Would you pray with me for this family that they would find this?   There is what seems like overwhelming rubble surrounding them right now. Discouragement. Confusion. Lies. 

So much hurt.

Would you pray to rebuild the wall of protection around them?

Pray for wisdom and truth and hope and healing.

Would you pray that there would be a way through the destruction and that it would be as clear as day?

I have confidence to ask for a miracle now because God has done it before.

 Would you stand with me in prayer?

Just Keep Swimming, Swimming, Swimming...

 I have decided that until I am blogging somewhat regularly again, I need to think less and type more.


(Man, can I think too much.)


So for a now the point is not necessarily what I write, just that I write  SOMETHING.  This brings me to Seven Quick Takes Friday.

Or at least it was Friday when I started-That makes it still count.

(And if you dare to get all technical on me, I will just play with Time/Date thing and make it whatever time I want. So there. )

1. I was looking for pictures to accompany my post and realized that most of our quick real-life snap shots involve us eating. I  will be the first to attest that these five kids think they need to be fed regularly (unrealistic, entitled children), but isn't there anything else we do that might be considered photo-worthy? Anyone willing to tell me I am not the only one who will be prefacing all of her photos with 'This is so-and-so eating a such-in-such' when it comes time to humiliate her children in front of the opposite sex? Someone?

2.  And speaking of photos. I can not get over how much Eilidh and Silas look like they could be twins in the one of them enjoying their first-frozen-yogurt-ever (See! I followed the formula! This is so-and-so...)! They would hate for me to say that, but even with three years difference, they are so much alike; Best enemies, you know the sort.

3. And speaking of Silas.  He will be having his first over-nighter tomorrow. Going to Grandmas...wants me to go with him.

Swoon.

His sisters always get to go, so this time is just for him. In addition to seeing Yogi Bear, he has high hopes of being able to cross off 'own and master harmonica' from his bucket-list. Grandma, just for the record, I warned you not to mention the T-O-Y store.

4. My youngest daughter can not both eat and sit down at the same time; Primal urge to always be ready to flee from those who might steal her food, perhaps. At any rate, I am not sure if said child has figured out which is worse yet: Her food being lifted from her when she is not paying attention or her head meeting the tile below the chair that she is suppose to be sitting on. 

5. Someone around here will be turning TWO this week! This certain someone can have birthday cake to her heart's content too... but only if she sits down.


6. I find February to be a loverly month for a birthday because 'February' is just so stinking cute. I think this is due to Valentine's Day and to pink doilies and felt/paper hearts in particular. 


7. Is it odd that the last thing I associate with Valentine's Day is romance? No PG or R rating here, just cuteness and cupcakes, that is what I'm about. 


There I go again about food.

A Little Dirt

We were just hours into our first day living in our newest home when I realized that my children might never be clean again. 


There was dirt here.
Dirt like I had never known before.


Not the kind of dirt that knows its place either;
This dirt was bold and rose in clouds that followed you around, taller with every step, until you suspected its' presence and looked over your shoulder, paranoid.

'Huh? Funny...I could have sworn I was being followed?'


See what I mean?
Sneaky dirt.


Anytime one of my five kids popped back inside from playing with their new BFFs (which you know was like, every two minutes), the dirt would barge in too. 

It was sneaky and fast and I could not keep up with it for the life of me.


Before I knew it, I was chasing its' tracks through out the house: mounds on the floor,  handprints up the stairwell, anywhere they might set their little hind ends.

Getting the kids all dressed for the day and then out to the car without one of them falling victim to attack became my primary mission. Yet, little did I know,  Sneaky Dirt had a friend.


That is right-


 bring on 


The Rain.

Now it is not as though I never let my children get dirty. I love the occasional what-the-hay-just-go-for-it, but every time a young'n of mine needs fresh air? 


Really? 

And we live in Central Oregon where the rain accumulation is barely worth mentioning, so it only stands to reason that someone must have told it all to land at my house.


 I try not to panic. 


I try not to let the words  'I hate this place' out past the gate where my children might overhear them- This place that was suppose to make things easier for us. I try not to let them past, but the spaces between the bars are a little too wide and my words are crafty too. 


I begin to formulate a plan that would make me The Boss again; a plan that involves lots of laundry. 


I strip down the kids, gather our loads, and I push the magic button.


 NOTHING happens. 


Does this machine not know that there is a war going on? An enemy threatening to take over our camp?!? I will never be able to keep up now!


Much frustration, two repairmen, several electricians, a couple of new machines, and eight weeks later, I am finally submerged in The Parable of God's Washing:




I had tried to find a comfortable place again, to make myself a refuge, but Sneaky Dirt knew the way.


 Life's Storms came too- dare I say they were given my forwarding address? Told they could stop by?


My Dirt and Life's Storms joined forces and really made a mess of things.


I made plans for counter attack.


I mustered my strength
and I tried to wash away what lingered. 


Nothing. 


Apparently, I really needed a reminder.


How thankful this momma of five is for the chance to do laundry in her own home again.


How thankful I am for a life that seems so out of control some days.


How thankful I am to know The One who is in control.


I am so glad that God loves us like the messy children we are and offers to make us clean.

Master of Disguise

Everyone knows that if you

go incognito

mom will never catch on.

Friction

Who I want to want to be and the reality of me have been bumping up against eachother a lot lately.

This has caused friction and friction is uncomfortable and makes me want to get out from under it.

Nothing has brought this to a head like the idea of Christmas; At times I have truly just wished I could wake up tomorrow and discover that it is January first.


I don't want to feel this way.
I want the gift of Jesus to be enough for our family.
Not in a resigned yeah-well-Jesus-is-the-reason-for-the-season sort of way, either.


I want my children to experience the reality of His love and I want that Love to move us to serve others.


I  need to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the reality of His love.


I want to be content and have a heart that is grateful instead of focusing on what is missing lately. 


I want this to be my reality, but it is not.


Instead I have felt like hiding so that I don't have to experience the disappointment my children may feel when they realize that Christmas may not be the way they remember it being. I have had to bite my tongue so as not to say something that might quench their joy.


It is not even really as much about the 'stuff' as it is about not knowing how to do things differently; about not knowing how to re-adjust our focus to what is real.


I do want to be able to give to my children, but mostly I am bothered by the fact that I don't know how to give them what matters most.

That is what saddens me.

Shouldn't this have been our emphasis from the start?

If their were no pretty gifts around the tree, shouldn't we still be in awe of The Baby in the Manger?
Shouldn't this Everything be enough?

I am praying about how to do this.

How do you claim the season for Christ?


Dear Lord,
Help me to know that You are enough. Help me to offer up a sacrifice of praise to you that You may be glorified in my home and wherever you send me.

Amen

All Tied Up

Every time I sit at my computer to pen anything longer than a status update on Facebook, there is one image that comes to mind: the pull cords to my sons' window blinds.

Odd, I know. Why?

Well it seems that no matter how many attempts I make to separate those strings, so that light can be given to the insides of our walls and our own vision expanded beyond what is immediatly before us, those things are always quick to find eachother again.

Not unlike the jumbledness in my head; each thought its unique strand but knotted together so convincingly that it is difficult to know where to begin tugging; the result being that no one is permitted to see in and no one is able to see out.

When this occurs, I know that nothing is going to happen if I don't start somewhere.

So, here I go.

I am just going to start pulling here-and-there to see where that gets us, okay?

Cause, well... it is dark in here.


Summer:
Many areas of my life this summer simply could not be improved upon. I have no regrets about how much living our family was able to squeeze out of June, July, and August.

There was lots of swimming and jumping and running and biking and just a lot of all-around-having-a-good-time-ing going on. The absolute highlight, by far though, was this special place (that won't link-for me) called Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch. I am not even exactly sure how our family ended up there, but God got us there somehow and from the moment I set foot onto their property I knew we were there because God knows every detail about us and knew exactly what our family needed.

This is not the last time you will here about it from me, for sure.

My Blog:
I am mix'n things up around here and though I can't manage to write on even one blog, I have decided to break things up into two blogs. Eventually 'Lollygag' will be my homeschool blog and 'Duct Tape Chronicles' will be more about what God is doing in my own heart.

So if you started out as my homeschool friend and your link has suddenly disappeared from this site, rest assured that I am just rearranging the furniture and you are seated comfortably elsewhere.

Employment & Such:
This is a doozey. Even the knots have knots on this strand.

Knot One:
Steve and I are still really enjoying working at the same place. We probably both have the best full-time work schedules in the world with him working Thursday nights and Saturday/Sunday days (each shift being at least 12 hours) and me working all night shifts Friday through Sunday. It may mean that we don't see each other at all on the weekend but then our entire family gets to spend our days together Monday through Friday. On top of the amazing schedule, The Boy gets to do things like mountain biking, or hiking, or building model rockets with some cool young adult and he gets paid for it.

Sp (oi) led.

Knot Two:
The hope for such a nice schedule is that this will allow him to begin pursuing what he is really passionate about, and that is photography.

He likes the outdoorsy stuff, but has become a big fan of a man who does humanitarian photography and (who we just found out) has also taught for YWAM's School of Photography. This gets me all goose-bumpy (and a little nervous) because before I married my feller God had me at working with YWAM  and I had always hoped that my family would someday be involved in serving together somehow.
In recent years I have almost abandoned this dream.

I don't know what any of this might look like, but God is reminding me that He always finishes what He starts. 


Knot Three:
While many aspects of Steve's new job have been WONDERFUL there have also been some new realities that we are struggling to adjust to. The fact is, even though we are thanking God for the job, Steve took the position knowing that he would be making less than he did even on unemployment and about half of what he once earned in his old profession. We did this believing that work is honorable, and that God would be faithful to make up the difference. There were some other decisions made that followed this thinking too (that I may share at another time) but in the mean time we knew that we would need to do our part in further reducing our expenses, so we gave notice and 'found' something more affordable.

Believe me, that sounded a lot more effortless than it actually was.

We are moved in now and are working out the kinks. I think the place will suit us well while we are here. We have a lot of healing and growing and trusting to do yet, and I get the impression that it is not going to be all smooth-sailing, but for now I am practicing gratitude and I am so thankful that God has no problems making sense of the knots.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, To The Coast We Go!

Does anyone know what happened to the months between last Halloween and now? I sort of feel like you do when you have driven your route and get to your destination only to realize that you did the entire thing on autopilot; With all the busyness, I think I may have blown through a few stop signs along the way.

The month of May itself has been crazy busy. We are still adjusting to Steve being (choir of angels rejoicing) employed once again. He is on-call so his hours are as random as can be, but so far as this pay period goes, he will have twice as many hours as I do, and I work full time. The weekends especially can feel very long since that is when I also work-we end up imitating a cart-wheel- I do twelve hours, he does the next twelve hours and so on and so forth.  There is a half an hour overlap in between where we share about the kids and have to specify whether or not it is our children we are talking about, or the 'kids' at work.I am very proud of him though. He has come into a new situation and is adapting so well that our superviser made it a point to mention it to me the other day.

 He is a keeper in so many ways.


Despite our busy acrobatic performance we also managed to break away and go to the Oregon coast for five days. The first time in about 9 years, and it has been calling to me the entire time. It was my birthday/Mother's Day treat and it was made even better because we were able to share it with Steve's brother's family and his parents. It worked out so that we were able to stay at friend's house while their family was away visiting in Central Oregon. Such graciousness made us feel right at home.

On the way over our baby got 'car-sick' (we later figured it was probably a stomach bug since others of us got it upon arriving home while nowhere near a car) and we had to scramble to find a place to clean her up. Do you just take a pukey baby into your nearest fast food place and fix her up in their bathroom? Steve pulled over into a church parking lot and I noticed a car there; The gentleman was just walking into the building and I quickly got his attention and threw myself at his mercy. Other than the tear-inducing wind, the rest of the trip went smoothly considering it was our first time taking all five of out kids out of town. Normally I am all about packing light, but for this trip I was glad that that-something told me to bring lots of clothes- about 35 pairs in all, not including PJs.

And yet somehow I still managed to forget hats. Those would have come in handy, this being the Oregon coast in May, after all. Above is a picture of my oldest son snubbing his cousin because he had just fallen in the water. I am pretty sure he was thinking about finding me because he knew that I knew where the suitcase was.

This is my youngest son who, for me, did not cry because I had spent so much time before our trip telling him how much fun the beach was.

Even though honestly, there was some misery involved.

This was taken on our last night there, and in order to keep some cheer in the group, we bribed them off the sand with ice cream. We had not had dinner yet and so I prayed that we would find a place that served both Tillamook Ice Cream and dinner and this is what we found:

(Notice baby's wind burned cheeks and nose? And yet I could still eat HER up!)

We called this dinner 'Happy Birthday, Mommy!'

Why, thank you!

Even with the 'car sickness', miserable wind and extended recovery time due to a household of sick kids, we still had a great time. We definitely won't wait so long to go back!

 Thanks again Tucker family for opening your home to us.

Somebody Ate My Porage!

For the past nine years or so my husband has had three nights a week to himself once the children were all tucked into bed; He could video game, read, or watch movies to his heart's content. Secretly I was always a little envious-I mean, with five kids can you imagine reaching that beautiful point in the day where everything just rests-including your spouse's music, TV, and video games?

(Oh, did I just say that?)

I have always found delight in completely sprawling out over our queen bed without constraint- Have I ever mentioned that the simple fact that we own a queen bed is proof to me that we never intended on having a big family-have you ever tried fitting seven people into a queen bed first thing in the morning?

I'm just not a good sharer that way; I am pretty sure that when a I go to bed I'm at least seven inches taller and grow a couple extra arms and legs; I just need the whole thing, thank you very much.

That is why...WAIT FOR IT...

That is why, when my husband got called in to WORK the night shift last night and tonight, I was so excited to have the place to myself. Oh, the things I could do! The beautiful silence of it all.


I was going to tidy the house, and complete a craft, and read blogs, and stare at the wall in silence (Chirp.Chirp) until I grew tired. And then I was going crawl into bed and drool on my husband's pillow.

Yep, that is what I was going to do.

That is until my two year-old decided to cry for two hours because his nose was stuffy, which sent his older sisters into hysterics because they could not get to sleep with him crying, which woke the baby up.

Oh, well.

Once apartment-you-can-no-longer-tidy-your-house-without-bothering-your-neighbors time came (without me having actually tidied my house) my kids had settled down and I at least still had the absence of sound, and leg room.

I climbed the stairs with my lovely lap-top and rejoiced at the prospects, only to spy the stuffy nosed boy peacefully snoring SMACK DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BED!!!

Guess I am not the only one who grows extra appendages and likes to sprawl.

Oh well, at least my husband has a job.

Wonder if maybe he could pick up an extra shift tomorrow night?

Real (Part 2)

Click Here or scroll down for Part 1

My time in Mexico was actually no easy thing. It wasn't exactly fun, but it was good and God, through all of it, was very, very, faithful. There are several things that happened there that I could tell you about that are stories in and of themselves. They are for another time. What I have selected to mention were chosen because they were gifts that went well beyond ordinary. They were the kind that can only be hand picked by someone who really knows you.


Remember that random thought that I'de had while still at home? The one about God returning to me forty times what I released to Him? Somewhere before our long outreach our team was very short on cash. My base leader had gone to welcome a short term group that had come from Canada and I decided that, to distract my hungry belly, I would journal a bit. When he returned I was still writing. He came into the house with food (YEAH!) and a big smile on his face and proceeded to tell me how the team that had just arrived was to pay $400 for their time with us, but had felt led instead to bless us with $1600! We were so excited about God's provision for our trip. We celebrated a bit and then I went back to my journaling which was when the random thought caper struck again. It was once more a total interuption to what I was writing about, and once more was very specific: " Forty times forty, Kathi, IS $1600." It was as if God was saying, "You are a little slow on this, so I'll point it out to you."

The rest of the trip was no different in terms of us having enough provisions of our own to mistakenly think that we were somehow in charge. What came to us, came the moment we needed it and in the perfect amounts. Towards the end of our trip (when I was at the stage where I was beginning to think more about the fact that I really had told the cute guy back home I would marry him, than about the moment I was in) I ran into another dilema. Our team was out of money and my dad had just notified me that he had gotten $500 for my car. Little did anyone else know that I was secretly hoping I would be able to bring a wedding dress home with me. At various times I had thought that maybe my car selling would enable me to do just that, and now the thought was gone. I cried before I let go of it. That night at dinner I could not help but think that with each bite I took, I was eating my wedding dress.

I should not have felt too sorry for myself. I knew God had been faithful and that he was not just going to abandon me now. Just as I was preparing to go back to the States a friend whom I had met during my time in Mexico City called and asked me if I had a dress yet. It was the perfect opportunity to give her all the details of my pity-party. When I stopped to catch my breath she was able to finish her thought. “…Because I was wondering if you would like to have mine…”

And would you believe that it fit perfectly?

Would you believe also that, once back in Oregon, my soon-to-be mother-in-law’s friend volunteered to provide the flowers and the food – and then called us at our rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding to tell us she was backing out? Most amazingly, I was not bothered by this development in the least. I was able to laugh and think, "well, of course", because I knew that God had more in store for his children than we could ever hope, dream or imagine. He had told me to leave the details to him and so that was what I was going to do.

I (and the rest of our wedding party) had evidence of God's goodness as soon as we walked into the church foyer. When the lady (mentioned above) had first volunteered her services we spent a bit of time searching the state for paper flowers like the ones in my veil. We found nothing. But there on the greeting table, in a place where no one in our familes had ever set foot before, sat an entire bouquet of them; Huge and overflowing.


And just how did they get there?


Well, a lady (a complete stranger) from the congreation had brought them back from MEXICO that very week, of course!

All the other details were covered too, as I'm sure you might be able to imagine by now.


And if you are wondering about the rock pictured above, It is just proof to me that God has a sense of humor A signauture, if you will. We found it on our honeymoon right around the time that we were counting our change to determine if we could make it home and still buy some Pop-Tarts and cheese-sticks to sustain us. We were heading back up the coast and decided to get out of the car for a while when my husband stepped on it.


If our house was burning down, I would try and save it from the fire. When I begin to doubt or become fearful I look at it to remember our foundation.


It reminds me that Jesus is the standard. He is the real thing, and nothing else will ever satisfy.

Real (Part 1)

I once heard someone say that Satan is in the counterfeiting business; For every good thing God has made, Satan has a counterfeit. Often this immitation seems to be authentic but anyone who truely has studied the prototype will recognize the deception . If we are looking for what is real then the counterfeit will satisfy only temporarily, if at all, and will ultimately leave us defeated in expectation and hope. The immediate period of my life before I met my husband was full of counterfeits.

My days in college were rich with spiritual growth but at this moment in time I was sort of just plugging my ears with my fingers and singing my own song. There were things in life that, contrary to what I had once thought, God had declared to be good (like relatioships with the opposite sex, for example) and I desired them, but some how I felt like God was toying with me; "This is good, but not for you." Uh yeah, gee thanks. Then there was the long-hoped-for-mission-trip that God gave me the thumbs down on. Releasing that to Him stung primarily because I had the funding to go, but only if I went within a certain window of opportunity. I could not see having a chance like that ever again.

True, I was being fatalistic (not that I would ever be known for doing that ) and you might even say that I was pouting (though not without a good pair of protective shin gaurds). Regardless, I decided, if ever so breifly, that I would be better off taking things into my own hands. If God would not give me a good Christian man, or let me go on that YWAM trip to Mexico, then I would really show Him; I would simply date a Non-Christian Mexican. Brilliant! Two birds, one stone.

Okay, to spare you some time for the good parts, the God-showing-off parts, and to leave at least a little of my reputation in tact, I will simply conclude the telling of that short woeful tale with, "it ended." I got smart. The last time I ever saw that person was the moment before literally running out of his house mumbling in a Holy-Spirit inspired epiphany about how " I get it!" I'm sure the poor kid thought I was crazy, but it finally clicked. God did not set limits on me simply because he loves to tell people 'no,' he says 'no' or 'not now' or 'wait on me' because he loves us and does not want to see us repeatedly doing stupid things that cause us pain.

Shortly after this revelation (within the week) I found myself returning to my home town, something else I had not been willing to budge on. I still told everyone within ear shot that it was just for the summer, but God knew different. He just snickered and let me have my silly conditions for a little while longer. On the drive home over the mountain it was just me in my little-car-that-almost-could. I had a great time singing and praying and being free from myself. I prayed most of the way there. I prayed for my dad, and for my future husband (should-you-chose-to-give-me-one-please!),for my trip to Mexico which I knew God had for me, but had not been willing to wait on Him for, and for many other things. Surrender never felt so good.

What I truly did not expect was what happened when I got to Central Oregon. While staying with my former Young Life leader's family I decide that it would be important to plug myself into fellowship some where. I was resistent to attending their church because I always had felt it was too big, but one day I decided to give it a go. While there I thought I might just check out their young-adult group. My first night in attendence I ended up hitting it off with several people, one of which had just that week returned from her YWAM trip in India. We started hanging out often and I was having a blast. We were all very like minded and it was so refreshing. Soon I found that the summer was ending, and *GASP* I was still there! It was a good thing I stuck around too because it was precisely the end of summer that I met the chap who would become my husband. While he was away working at Yellowstone for the season, I had weaseled my way into his group of friends. Sneaky. I already mentioned how quickly things moved from that point here, so I'll spare you the re-run.

It is the rest of the story that was the real fun part anyway. When Steve proposed to me in February (with an entire box of candy hearts that had but one message; marry me) it was with the secret hope that maybe, just maybe, my trip to Mexico might be postponed. It was only two weeks before I was suppose to be leaving and though I had already given notice at work, I still had NO money for the trip. There was NO money for a wedding. In fact, I did not even know how I was going to buy groceries after giving my $40 tithe, but I felt like I was suppose to be obedient till the very end and allow God do the rest. I had the impression of God being my father, assuring me that he had already seen to the details of both my trip and my wedding.

During a quite time later I had this random but very specific thought run through my head: "I will give back to you forty times what you give to me." Okay, Lord if that was you then I guess you'll do it. I quickly moved on to other things and did not think about it again . About a week before I was to leave I had had my dad check on some information for me. When he called back he informed me of an additional expense I had not been counting on. My care free attitude kinda bothered him. I had said "okay" pretty flipantly when he told me the news and his response to me was that it was not okay. I surprised myself by laughing and then explained to him that I did not have a dime for the trip; that if I was going, God would be the one providing the money, and that He had probably already budgeted for the additional expense. I had this funny image of God franticly shaking out his wallet searching for spare change, but wasn't about to share my own humorous musings with my dad at that point. Being a non-christian, I knew he was already entertaining the thought that his daughter was losing her mind.

Amazingly, the very next day I received a gift in the mail. It was from a church I had visited only once. While there I had mentioned to someone in the group that I was preparing to do a trip with YWAM but I never told them of my financial situation. I still have not a clue as to how they got my address. You can imagine my surprise when I learned that check that was mailed to me was for the exact amount (to the very penny!) as the airline ticket I needed to fly into Mexico City. I bought the ticket with renewed confidence that God was providing for me a step at a time. With only days to go, I phoned the school in Mexico and informed them of the situation. I let them know that I still did not have all the money, and did they still feel as if I was suppose to be there? They agreed that they thought I should come and 48 hours later my new fiance was driving me to the airport. I left my dad my car to sell (not exactly a hot commodity, but the only thing I owned) and figured that since I had a round-trip ticket the worst that I would get out of it was a short vacation.

NOTE: THIS ENTRY WAS A REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. SOMETIMES IT IS JUST IMPORTANT TO REMEMBER GOD'S FAITHFULNESS.

Signs of Spring

You would not know it by looking out my window (given that it has been snowing off and on for two weeks! Ahem.), but spring is coming. I have decide that the Central Oregon seasons and I are very compatible; like our weather, Winter in my own life has not completely eased her grasp, but there are small and promising hints of new life beginning to push their way out of what had appeared to be barren soil- light where there had seemed only darkness.

I have posted very infrequently this past year, and much of what I have written has taken on an often despairing tone, but I wanted to let you know that I have really appreciated those of you who have been an encouragement to me. I am very much a what-you-see-is-what-you-get sort of gal; in real life I am transparent and in my writing I am as well; not everyone is comfortable with this because sometimes it looks messy, but for those who do stick it out, I think it speaks volumes about their character.

I hope to share soon, some of the new things God is doing in my family.

Mostly though, I wanted to say thanks. Thanks for reaching out to let me know that you have been praying and for your encouraging words. Your prayers have been powerful and effective and I consider you all friends.

Kathi

A Closed Door

I was casually checking our local news site yesterday and was surprised by what met me there. Under the featured headlines was an article discussing the foreclosure rate in our county and to illustrate their point, an image of a closed door.

An image of OUR closed door.

What are the odds?

At first I wasn't sure what to make of it. I laughed, I got angry (feeling somewhat invaded), and then I blurted it out to my little Facebook world without much good reason, other than the fact that I had no pillow close by to scream into.

Really? Must I be the poster child now, Lord?

So what if very few people actually know who's door that is, I still do! I'm the one that picked out the paint and then grew irritated when our cats took it off again; mad that I had the audacity to suggest they actually go outside and be cats; that's my cat-scratched-rust-red-door with the lock box on it.

And then do you know what He said?

'I AM the one who shut that door, and you know that what door I shut, no man can open; That is not your door anymore-you can't go back.'

I did not take this news well, either.

It was uncomfortable because I knew it was true, and because what I am afraid of now is that this is not the last door He is going to close; There are other doors endangering my sense of safety with their creaking sound. This evening when I searched the news (maybe I should stop doing that) I learned that there are some who, because of a very tragic event,  are essentially trying to have the company I work for shut down.

Unbelievable.

When I take inventory of the past two years they seem so over the top, so made up.

I feel vulnerable and exposed personally, and saddened for others who's good names are being brought into question.

I am coming to understand just how threatened I have been feeling.

What if the unthinkable does happen?

Can I trust enough to remember WHO closed the door?

Will I be able to release it all and willingly be led through new doors that I would have never chosen?

 There are doors I can not open and one's I can not close.

I am being brought to my knees and  I have to trust that there is goodness on the other side.

I Confess...

I think there are some perfectionist tendencies running deep within my veins. My barely-functional blogger template (that I certainly did not love, but was *in-like* with) completely stopped doing what I asked it to do.

I know.

I mean, can you imagine?

And here I thought we were tolerating each other just fine.

It gave me some sob story about me not paying it enough attention, anyway, and that I'd be sorry when it was gone.

Boy, was it right.

Sigh.

I am back to complete bloggy-basics and it is driving me crazy!  I have a vision of what I would like it to look like and this certainly isn't it. It makes me not even want to bother with writing right now.

Does anyone else get that way about stuff in their lives? If it can't be what you know it could be, then is it still worth it?

Please, somebody, tell me I am not alone.

The Pied-Piper of Custom Blog Goodness is calling to me.

I think it might be time for Mom to get a paper route

7 Quick Takes (For a Buck, Buck, Buck!)

Look at me! How many blog posts is this in one week? I simply don't know what has come over me. Sure, I did cheat a little with the entire video thing, but still, this is me we are talking about here. I don't want to get too ahead of myself so I thought a list of sorts might be in order. With out further ado (about nothing, really), I present 'Seven Quick Takes Friday'... Please don't tell anyone that it is really still only Thursday night, okay? Thanks.


1. I kicked my husband out of the house tonight so that he could do some photo-study at Barnes & Noble and so that I could clean the living room while he was away. The first part of that plan happened, the second did not. I have at least ten minutes until the store closes but I am only at number one on this list so the living room's odds aren't looking so good.


2. I want some cookies. (Did I mention that Barnes & Noble is right next door to McDonald's and that they sell cookies 3 for a buck?)


3. I happen to know there is a dollar in my husband's pocket.


4. I want a blog face-lift.


5. I want a new camera.


6. I am just going to be darn content with my cookies.


7. And milk!

Some Things Just Can't Be Helped

What a tragedy it would have been to let such a good mud puddle go to waste.

Tuesdays Unwrapped: Incomplete

I remember the day that I began this mural on my daughter's wall. I can still feel the warmth and wetness of the paint covering my hands. It was imbedded in my finger nails in the same manner that the vision of unfolding possibilities filled and overflowed my heart; I was excited that I was being invited to participate in the actualization of a dream. Growing up my father and I had always lived in an apartment, which was never a bad thing really, but I was always aware that whenever I tried to make the place seem more like mine, what I was really doing was just putting holes into other people's walls.  

This was the first house that I would ever consider my own. It was the first place that I would live where there would be both a father and a mother raising their children; it was a chance to do things

differently than I had seen them done in my own childhood.  

 

God gave us seven years in this house and now that we are in the final days with it (yes, we moved out in June, but for many months I could not get myself to go back to gather the loose ends) I have been thinking about what the hardest part of saying 'good-bye' to it has been. 

Was it the actual move?

The entirely new relationship we were taking on with the bank; failure at holding up our end of the deal?

Was it that the house was so perfect for us that I could not stand to let it go?

The truth is it was none of these things.

When we moved into that home we had a two year-old and a baby due in weeks- It was perfect for who we were then. Before we moved out though it was very apparent that we were too big for our britches. Five kids and (at one time) a mother-in-law (and her five cats!) living with us made that clear. You would have thought that we would have rejoiced at the chance to find a better fit, right?

If it wasn't any of those things then, what was the most difficult part?

The answer to the question is hidden within these pictures, and in the numerous other hopes we held for our home and lives that never came to be.

We were left incomplete. 

Like the mural on this wall we surrounded ourselves with enough things until our flaws were camouflaged to the first glances of those who did not know what to look for. We settled for the 'just getting-by' of daily life and forgot about the true excitement that overflows from God's vision for our family. 

Sometime along the way we forgot that as Christians we are called to participate in the actualization of a dream. But not just our dream; the kingdom vision.

Abundant life.

The hardest part of all this has been seeing how 

we failed.

Miserably,

we failed.

And now God has graciously taken away all

the things that were not bearing fruit; things that we once thought essential.

My husband's job.

A home of our own.

  Predictability.   

The belief that we 

were self-sufficient.

 'Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.'

Hebrews 12:1-2

He has done these things because WE are His masterpieces and He always

always completes what He has started.