Author: pamela

Site Additions & Updates

Very recently I’ve had to update this site (some of the differences are very noticeable while others are unchanged) as I was using a WordPress theme that is no longer fully supported by the WordPress platform.  I began to notice that certain functions were no longer working, necessitating the change.

I didn’t advance with the times regarding the intricacies of technology so I don’t have the eagerness nor the curiosity to explore building another website and certainly don’t possess the depth of knowledge required to even begin to do it. So I’ve been quasi content with the WordPress ‘plug it in and go‘ method of blogging and adding pages.   It is not (to me) nearly as interesting, pretty, unique or rewarding as it was 22 years ago as I began to “build” the AChristianHome website, but I still have the same strong desire and sincere passion to produce/write letters & content and to convey experiences, ideas, inspiration and instruction in good things for women and families,

In the right ‘side bar’ under TWH Pages:
I’ve added a bunch of links to specific pages, articles, etc., on the antiquated AChristianHome website pages. Many are over 20 years old now. Imagine that!!

Hopefully I’ll have more transferred/added in the weeks to come.  Thanks for being here!

Life’s Greatest Hindrances are its Greatest Teachers

More and more I find that what I used to consider my greatest hindrances were, in fact, my greatest teachers.  I used to believe that my troubles were attributable to lack of finances and consequently, thought all of them could be solved by a surplus.  I considered disadvantages and often almost totally overlooked the great trust and creativity I was developing and gaining over the years.   I used to overlook what God was placing right before my eyes.  Troubled with how things were going to work out—crippled by fear that they wouldn’t, days were difficult and money seemed scarce.  Little did I know at the time that I would look back on the more difficult days and remember them with sort of fond, perhaps bittersweet, emotion.

I’m sorry for the young woman who was so fearful, but happy for the way the LORD did provide and for the ways she learned to cope, learned to be creative, learned to be hopeful, learned to trust and increased in faith.  But the younger woman who used to live in my shoes was often plagued by the “what will people think” albatross, and was shackled by doubts and insecurities – as I suppose we all are from time to time, but when they become interwoven in every thought, they’re like that heavy, paralyzing albatross.  The LORD worked through all those sorts of situations and blessed me with a sort of “blindness” to my situation— a sort of “rose coloured glasses” tenor to my life—and brought me through those valleys.  I began to see things less and less for what they were and more and more for what I hoped they would be.  Sure, the lack of finances still was a hindrance, but I stopped allowing myself to feel as though that defined me or my family.  I decided to stop getting tripped up in the trappings of the have’s and have not’s in life—they weren’t helping me.  I decided to not let my possessions define who I am—other people may have judged me in that manner—but I never wanted to be that shallow and I knew the LORD didn’t want that for me either.  He was taking me through the school of contentment.  Had I not had lack or loss, I’d not have learned to be very creative with what I do have.  I suppose I might’ve become smug or assume it was my doing when there were increases or “successes.”  I surely know that whatever good has come, whatever gain I’ve experienced: successes, benefits or blessings have all been of the LORD.

Some of the deepest valleys produced the richest fruit and it’s faith from those lessons that has guided me through the more recent years and the struggles or trials we’ve faced.  When trails have been forged or mountains scaled, the path is a bit less daunting each time it’s traversed. And with each passing, faith is strengthened and trust is deepened.  With each passing year, the have’s and the have not’s are less and less noticeable to me and my concern is less self-focused.   Pride is an ugly thing I came to see, for it is often pride that keeps us from living and giving—pride is that gripping thing that prevents us from being transparent, from being open and vulnerable.  We all have it to some degree or another and sometimes, when we very least anticipate it, pride wells up and swallows us. Gains and losses are the great equalizers in life—they happen to all of us.

Because I know my Redeemer lives and ever lives to make intercession for me —for us—I know that I can trust Him beyond a shadow of doubt: that what He has promised to do, that will He do. He promised to never leave me nor forsake me and He promises in His Word that He will complete that which He has begun.

So the LORD has used trials as teachers, loss as gain, and lack: to fill me.  His faithfulness is great, His mercies have been new every morning.

 Quintessential Motherhood

Throughout the week I wonder what the LORD would have me to write. In an attempt to convey a message from my heart, I have the usual distactions.  Distractions, buzzers, timers, calls, the dryer’s beep-beep-beep, the knocking at the back door… distractions.  And then I thought: distractions? No: life.  Life is what’s happening when we’re waiting and planning for something else to happen.  And then I think on this further and wonder: is this the story of my motherhood experience?  Has it all happened while I was waiting for something else to happen?  Have the days passed by while I was looking for a brighter tomorrow or a better way of doing things?  While hurry-scurrying around, gathering, sorting, washing, folding, packing… suddenly the time comes.

Suddenly the time-clock runs out and this game is over or the hour comes for the leaving…  This is quintessential motherhood.

Years ago, I came inside from the chilly porch where I hugged one of our sons and waved him good-bye-for-now as he drove away. The darkness was giving way to light with the early morning sun casting a pink glow on the snow, tears flooded my eyes and instantly, all the compelling rush was completely forgotten in the haze of the exhaust and the taillights slowly dimming in the distance. I stood there in the cold-still waving… the asl sign for i-love-you… and found myself wondering—questioning—what significant thing had I contributed to that remarkable boy’s life?  Was there anything noteworthy?  All at once  I thought of many things I’d forgotten to remember—things I suddenly realized I meant to say.  Memories instantly flooded my mind — sort of like those endearing slideshows you see at weddings — the emotionally gripping photos that chronicle lives and bring tears and laughter simultaneously one frame after another.

Part of the calling of motherhood is that there will be suffering.  There will be days of joy and and days of sorrow.  Sort of that paradoxical truth that in every adversity there is triumph and in every joy there is an inextricable mix of delight and sorrow.  The sorrow part is the part we didn’t read in the fine print.  The sorrow part is one of the consequences of endearment — one of the consequences I didn’t perhaps expect when I first received the confirmation call from the doctor’s office or when we first saw the indicator lines in the home-pregnancy test kit.  No, in those days, we had no idea what lay ahead, what tears we’d shed or how many sleepless nights we’d spend waiting and walking.  Waiting for a child to return home or walking a crying baby from one end of the living room to the other: round and round.

No, in the early days, we had no idea what lay in store a few years down the road.  We had no grasp of where those first baby-steps would take those feet.  We had no concept that snow-tires would eventually replace those training wheels.  Even now, I probably have no real grasp of what the consequences of motherhood are.  Just as I can’t fathom the exhilaration of tremendous joy, I can’t fathom the plummeting sorrow—both are those inexplicable consequences of endearment and motherhood.

I’ve often said I wasn’t prepared for these years—the gripping anguish of regret and disappointment, the overwhelming joy proud moments bring and the unstoppable ticking of the clock and the turning of the calendar pages.  It seems new calendars are purchased more frequently now.  But in reality, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD has been with me, guiding, abiding and upholding me —preparing me for each of the next days He’s brought.  The preparation has been in the living. Bidding farewell to passing seasons and ushering in new ones prepares us for these goodbyes.

It’s quintessential motherhood: fully experiencing of all the seasons over and over. Experience, history… photographs and memories all prepare us for these goodbyes. As I look out at the morning glow on the snow… and then at the leafless, frost covered branches of my weeping willow tree, there’s sort of a melancholy hopeful looking forward to what this day will bring and how I’ll one day look back on this day.

I smile as I realize that with every good bye… there’s a welcome home.  In the end, the true joy is looking to the ultimate welcome home.

May the LORD bless you and bless you in your home today.

Why didn’t I do this sooner?

I have in a folder a heap of “draft” blog entries — some dating back several years.  I was going to just ‘blindly’ delete the whole folder since I generally write inspired by studies, current events, or experiences for single entries, message series, or Bible studies.

Today I reread the following entry, written two years ago in the midst of an activity that lasted a couple of months. What’s interesting to me is that while this happened two years ago, hindsight demonstrates it was just a precursor to what began to happen just before this new year, this 2021 year.  

Written February 2019 

As I go through our home in this process of eliminating clutter, I keep wondering, why didn’t I do this sooner? And, you know what? I have no good answer except that it wasn’t time yet for this overly-sentimental girl. I don’t know if I wasn’t ready for the work or if I didn’t have the prompting to do it or if I just thought: forget it, the task is too daunting — but one thing’s for certain: I didn’t know what I didn’t know! 

I think that’s one of the greatest deterrents of not doing things: not knowing what we don’t know. As an example, I didn’t know it would feel so nice to have space between items in a cabinet — to have empty spots on a shelf or plenty of room in an area. All I know is that at the end of the year as I was putting away our Christmas decorating items, I had a sudden urgency to get busy decluttering our home.

Somewhere around Christmastime we got wind of a local newspaper article regarding an update for the progress of the airport expansion near our home — we’ve had knowledge of the proposal for well over four years now (well, actually for a couple of decades), but this news just seemed more certain. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]the clean slate of the new year was before me and clutter was in the way.[/cp_quote]That’s a hard hard story for another day, but it dawns on me now that I must’ve internalized that news and without intentionally acknowledging it — that, or I finally recognized the clean slate of the new year was before me and clutter was in the way. Whatever the case, I’m glad it happened that I felt an urgent need to go through every room {not the bedrooms of the two kids at home} and eliminate clutter.

This is the first time in 41 years that we’ve had an “extra” room in our home. It’s also our final year of homeschooling — thirty one years of homeschooling has meant accumulation of all sorts of materials, a permanent “homeschool area” filled with books, and arts and craft supplies. So that ‘extra room’ and the closing of our homeschooling chapter has allowed me to ‘permanently’ set up my sewing machine and have a stamping & paper crafting/hobby room. With a guest bed. ~smile~ Why didn’t I do this before now? I couldn’t.

But this brings me to thinking about why we don’t eliminate clutter, why don’t we clean out things? Why do we put off getting rid of things or the work of deeply-cleaning our homes? Maybe we don’t know we’d someday wonder why didn’t we do this sooner?!?

It seems that we think we’ve got a lot more time than we do. So, in all this work {and the thinking time I’ve had in it} the interesting lesson I’m learning is to tackle things that come to mind: today if at all possible, to use and appreciate the things I have, to be content with and purposeful about things — bcz I sure don’t like this recent feeling of wondering why I didn’t do this sooner. And, today’s all I’ve really got.

[I wrote about this process here, here, and here


Motherhood’s early years: Why It’s Hard

The other day I was browsing the aisles of a local thrift shop — not that I need another thing, but since many of our things are in a storage unit, on more than one occasion recently, I’ve needed to pick up an item or two.  This time, of all things, I needed a cake pan.   I didn’t find what I needed, but the trip was more than edifying.

An eager, loving young boy was pointing out to his mother all the things he would like to buy for her and telling how nice they would be in her kitchen… how nice a picture would be on their wall… do you love this, mama? As he continued to find perfect treasures and had a comment or question for each, she replied appropriately to his statements or questions… she was attentively listening but occasionally reminding him they had a few things to look for.

I’d have lingered longer but I had other stops to make. I decided not to let the moment go unnoticed and mentioned to the mama that she sure had a kind and fine young son there… and that she was doing a great work. She thanked me and with a weary sigh, “…I hope so.”

Motherhood’s hard. It many ways, it has to be.

It’s hard because there’re are other seasons ahead.
It’s hard because there are trials, testings, sorrows ahead.

It’s hard because a young “motherhood tree” is gearing up and trying to produce rich fruit on a frail tree with shallow roots and spindly branches. Spring rains, Summer sunshine, Autumn frosts, cold Winter winds and snow have not yet deeply tempered the tree of motherhood. Few occasions of deep pruning for rich growth have come upon the early years of the motherhood tree.

Young motherhood has days that don’t seem all that fun. Lonely, isolating days — tasks, meals, nursing, washing, wiping up spills, picking up toys, books and clothes… repeated over and over and over again.  Hard days that most mothers wouldn’t trade for all the gold in the world (I know, some days you might be saying: don’t tempt me!).

Warm and bright, sunny days seem to remedy the hard days and bring long awaited playtime, running around outdoors.  Wearing a baby, pushing a toddler, hurrying to keep up with some busy preschoolers — even the sunny days are hard sometimes.

All the hard, all the things that go into early motherhood make for strong branches for children to climb, to swing from, to sit under. The seasons temper the tree — the hard seasons, even more so.

With the passing of seasons, the older the tree, the sturdier the trunk, the stronger the branches, the thicker the bark, the deeper the roots, the more able to bear fruit and provide needed shade.

Mothers need the hard early years.

Children won’t be so for long.

 

 

Songs in the Night

There is a River… The truth of this beautiful song comforted me back to sleep a few times throughout the night and into this morning. I’m evermore thankful for God’s prompting, His presence, His provision in and through music.

Similar to memorized Scripture, being the only thing one can read on the ceiling in the dark, music can play in the theater of our mind and be used of God to bring comfort, clarity — calm to a stressed, anxious, worried mind.

The concerns of the day were heavy on my heart last night so it seemed best to just get ready for bed, read for a little bit and turn off the light. In prayer I drifted off to sleep.  There is a river… the background music to my sleep through the night, waking long enough to mentally hear it, then sleeping once again.  A few times this occurred and this morning I shared it with my husband. He quickly found and played the song for me and I sang along with great thanks to God for His provision of not only sweet, restorative sleep, but His presence and songs in the night. This isn’t an isolated case; it’s happened many, many times through the years because there is a River that flows from His throne.

There Is A River

There came a sound from Heaven
Like a rushing,wind
It filled their hearts with singing
And gave them peace within
The prophet gave this promise
He said, the Spirit will descend
And from your inner being
A river with no end!

There is a river, that flows from deep within
There is a fountain, that frees the soul from sin
Come to these waters; there is a vast supply
There is a river, that never shall run dry.

There came a thirsty woman,
She was drawing from a well
You see her life was ruined and wasted
And her soul was bound for hell
Oh but then she met the Master
Who told of her great sin
He said, “If you’ll just drink of this water,
You’ll never thirst again”.

There is a river, that flows from deep within
There is a fountain, that frees the soul from sin
Come to these waters; for there is a vast supply
There is a river, that never shall run dry.

May you (and I) drink from the rich well of God’s Word today, yield to His calling, walk with Him today, be filled with His Holy Spirit, repent, rejoice, redeem the time He’s given.

The Eternal God is thy Refuge

The days seem long but the years are quickly passing. As I typed that, I recalled saying something similar in the early years of motherhood: the days are long and the weeks fly by. 

I never thought about the swift passage of time in terms my own mortality but in terms of our children growing taller, learning new things—getting older. Now I think of them as young —in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s— so much life ahead while our years are swiftly slipping away.

Early on, older women would tell me to enjoy the children while they’re young, it’ll go so fast; or, these are the good old days.  I remember nodding and smiling in agreement (I had no idea!).  Some fifteen or twenty years ago I began to tell weary mothers they’d one day cry for those days. I meant it then.  And I really mean it now. The years went by so quickly; our eleven children are all grown now… so are a couple of our grandchildren.

In the ten year trap of depression I’ve done more looking back than looking ahead — the regrets of former days, the regrets of what was and wasn’t done, what was and wasn’t said encircled me in an abyss of defeat. The cycle repeated daily like a broken record skipping and repeating. It still could if I weren’t vigilant——and for that reason, among others, I resolve to stay vigilant.

The Word says the Lord’s mercies are new every morning. And, for me, God’s proven that to be so.

“As thy days, so shall thy strength be…
The eternal God is thy refuge
and underneath are the everlasting arms…”
—Deuteronomy 33.25, 27

Strength today and bright hope for tomorrow,
great is His faithfulness.

And great His faithfulness has been!  His faithfulness is great. Great. On the bright days (and there have been many!) and on the dark days (and there have been many!).  Learning to take every thought captive, to be vigilant to watch for that roaring lion lurking about seeking to destroy, to be patient in the process has borne rich fruit.  Interestingly, as I write this we’re in a testing of faith, a stretching of faith, a s-t-r-e-n-g-t-h-e-n-i-n-g of faith!  Truly, we are learning to “count it all joy!”  And surely, there’s nothing like a trial or a test to fortify and/or verify one’s faith.

Whatever’s happening round about you or me, one thing I know: God is only good all the time.

Over the last decade of deep valleys and bright mountaintops the constant is the Word of God.  Truth always wins. Truth always defeats the foe. Truth always sets free. Prayer is peace. The Word of God is life.

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true,
whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue,
and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
pips 4.8

“Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage;
be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed:
for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
Joshua 1.9

ReBlogging

Lots of women do this. Every day they do this. For years I wrote every day. But then a reality check came. And the reality was this: I was so consumed with doing all I was doing that I forgot/neglected what I was supposed to be doing.

I think lots of early sites, early website designers/builders and then bloggers fell into this same thing: out of control distraction! I’ve had the honor and privilege of talking with some of them over the years. One such blogger, Keri Lamar, who faced a similar ‘day of reckoning, is the author of Present:  How one woman pulled the plug on distraction to connect with real life. It’s worthwhile reading (along with the Present Journal).

In the 90’s, internet was new and thrilling —a time of information explosion— bulletin boards, seemingly unlimited content, email, internet chatrooms/groups/platforms were big. Really big. And SO easy! The allure was amazing, captivating and intoxicating.  And captivated we were — sometimes for hours on end. Days evaporated.  I’ve written from time to time about this early {and ongoing} distraction and time drain (Here and many other posts on internet addiction).

Once I got hooked on internet lists/groups, I began to gather material and content to begin building a website for women, homemakers/home educators after the manner of Titus2. The learning curve was steep and sometimes exasperating as I worked at learning html coding, creating site content and images. It was helpful and instructive to receive supportive email (and occasional naysayer mails, too).  I loved what I was doing and the encouragement others were gleaning. Problem was, I didn’t notice what I wasn’t doing.  My distraction was encroaching on my calling as a wife and mother/homemaker and years of yoyo-ing in an attempt to find balance ensued.

Fast forward to today. The last ten plus years have given much perspective. Through valleys of depression, extreme lack of confidence, lack of purpose, hope and worth, I’ve been learning more and more about the love and mercy of God. The Lord is only good. The Lord is only faithful. All the time.  No matter where we’ve been, what we’ve done (or haven’t!) God is good and has good things for us — working all things together for His glory and our good.

It is of the Lord‘s mercies that we are not consumed,
because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is Thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3.22-23

As I prepared to write this post, I felt that nagging feeling that I had no business doing this. But I desire to carry on using/sharing the gifts God’s given me, what God’s done for me, what God’s done in and through me. Prior to the internet and all that’s transpired, I was writing — from newsletters, guides and booklets to Bible studies and various retreat talks and programs.
And so now… I’d like to {again} more regularly share some experiences and observations here.
I’ll be re-blogging as He leads me.  ♥ —ps

The Next Right Thing

Over the years I’ve used a phrase numerous times in all sorts of seasons, mental spaces, homemaking, motherhood, even on this blog — the phrase: do the next right thing.  This concept wasn’t learned overnight and it wasn’t learned easily.  It wasn’t something that came naturally to me — as disciplines of motherhood didn’t come naturally to me.

But, from the beginning, God was working in me to will and to work for His good pleasure. –Philippians 2.13. Day by day He has been working disciplines into my life and I share these things with you that you might experience the same: God working in you for His good pleasure. Or God affirming in you what you’re already doing, learning, accomplishing for His glory.

Journaling, daily chore lists, daily prayer and devotions, checklists, etc., etc., all came into practice for me after I’d been married a little while. Early on, c. 1978, my mother-in-law gave me (among many other books) a copy of Disciplines of the Beautiful Woman by Anne Ortlund. I think, for the first time, I realized how much I did not know, how many things I didn’t pay attention to doing, or how many things for which I had no real plan. I don’t recall enough of the book to heartily recommend it today, but I do recommend establishing disciplines to live by.

Speaking of disciplines to live by, sometimes, “the next thing” isn’t the next right thing (even though it might seem like it). And often we jump to do the next thing in haste (because it’s on the list and because: it. is. the. next. thing.) when we ought stop to evaluate what the next right thing is.

Sometimes we get caught up in the snowball effect of doing next things —all day long, practically running through our day checking off all the things, all the busy things we do every day. And at the end of the day instead of being tired but fulfilled, we might feel as though we didn’t actually accomplish much (except a checked off list) and end the day feel tired and empty.  Maybe in that list mix a right thing was missed, a right thing was overlooked, a right thing was rejected.

As I’ve shared a number of times, there are a couple of things I began to do and have done every day for the last 40+ years or so. Every day, first thing, I make our bed, tidy our room and have some sort of quiet time/Bible study/journaling. Those aren’t checklist items but they set the tone of the day… they’re sort of foundational to being ready for the day, ready for the next thing: the next right thing.  Since I could have a tendency to be haphazard so these (and other) disciplines help keep me in line. Getting fully dressed for the day is another.

So, what’s a next right thing?  Sometimes a next right thing is a: Stop everything–stop and pray!  Or, stop and push a swing, see the sunset, listen to a trouble, a story, a heart. Or, stop everything: go take care of someone, go get someone, go make something for someone.  Sometimes the next right thing is a necessary brief interruption–sometimes it’s all day. Whatever the case, right things might be seen as intrusions to our disciplines —our order— unless and until we seek to yield to what God is doing.

We might have our next things done so that we can be ready for the next right things.  A daily order makes “time demands” easier to oblige. Next things are often task oriented only, whereas a next right thing is hopefully more grace oriented.

Does the next right thing take the place of the next thing?  Yes, often.

As mothers, one of the hardest things to evaluate/prioritize is time/list management with so many potential variables. We might fall into one camp or another: so ordered we cannot be spontaneous —or— so spontaneous we never have order. Disciplines are tricky. But necessary. And gracious.

Disciplines bring freedom… freedom to do what we ought instead of doing whatever we want.  This is where we can learn to do the next thing with the priority of the next right thing.  In Titus 2.3 speaks of aged women being teachers of good things with verses 4 and 5 amplifying the good things.

Doing the next right thing is… a good thing.  ♥ —ps

In This Strange Season

In this strange season I attempted to ‘rethink’ this blog, realign it, redirect it.  And, for the life of me, I haven’t been able to “get it” or come to a resolution. But, here’s my attempt…

In this past year—this strange season, many changes have occurred in my life and our home. In this strange season (as in your strange season, no doubt) the changes and restrictions have forced me to think about or, rethink what I’m doing, what’s important, what’s got to change or, really, what ought to be eliminated.

And it’s not just things, it’s not just eliminating clutter or getting rid of things we no longer use or need. It’s more than that. It’s coming to the strange realization that a season is passing away and a new one is dawning.  And with this new dawn, eliminating things, activities, routines, expectations and planning of events that were necessary for the season that’s passing and yet, will be unnecessary for the season ahead.

Nothing and everything has prepared me for this strange season.  The constant that I’ve resorted to through many years is: Do the next right thing.  Another constant is recalling what did I do? whenever I was facing a completely “new normal” or a “strange season” — motherhood, postpartum, another move, another new baby, homeschooling, teenagers, financial strains, another move, more babies, married-in’s, more teenagers, losses, more married-in’s, grand babies, life’s surprises, health issues… you get the idea.

So, what’s my next right thing now? You know what? I don’t know—I mean I don’t know the big picture. I’ve been a mother for over 41 years and now for all intents and purposes have an empty nest—but am still a homemaker.   I don’t know how I want to do the days ahead… But what I do know is this: as I embark on this strange season, I want to do what I will wish I had done.  This thought quite often helps me decide what the next right things is.  My hope is that each next right thing or each next right step will be through open doors and the days ahead will be more fruitful than the former days.

The Covid-19 virus and all the societal changes that have come as a result have really clouded, hindered, or suppressed creative thought for me —maybe (and probably!) for you, too.  The lockdown brought some pretty depressing weeks. And now, I look back and it seems the past 5 months have just evaporated in all the busyness of life and “distancing”, creatively keeping in contact with our kids and grandkids, but not seeing friends and church family (in real life) and figuring out how to do/buy/get things differently and yet still accomplish the work — and the new-normal Zoom communication.

In the midst of the strangeness, I lost creativity… I didn’t write. I didn’t journal. I didn’t draw. I didn’t write letters. I didn’t make any wedding cakes.

I did prune trees, plants, hedges. I did read. I did make lots of masks (I hate masks!).  I did plant and regularly tend to the gardens. I did bake and (with my husband) drive all around several times to deliver boxes of a variety of baked goods to the homes of each of our children/grandchildren. I did clean and sort a lot of things. I did Bible studies. I made birthday cakes. I did and will do a bunch of canning. And I’m making plans……….

But nothing’s been normal.  And I want guard against all this strangeness becoming normal.  So, as I said, I want to be about the business of doing what I will wish I had done in this next season.  That, and I don’t want to look back and regret any longer what I didn’t do in this strange, strange season.

more later… ♥ps