May the angels lead you home....

My phone rang a little while ago....and instantly I cringed knowing, waiting, praying.

My Mama called to deliver the news, my Papa died.

He went peacefully this morning, with his sons by his side. They gathered round and said a prayer, the angels led him home.

My Papa was a veteran himself, so it's befitting that on a day when we remember fallen soldiers, I remember a soldier who lived beyond the throws of war, and found his lasting resting place, decades later.

Thank you for the prayers, I feel them, and that makes all the difference right now.

Memorial Day will never be the same.

Thank you to all those who serve, to all those who have given everything, to all those who were carried Home on the wings of angels.

Prayers for Papa

You see that tall drink of water on the left....that is my Papa. A wonderful man, with a kind and gentle spirit, a heart big enough to fill up that 6 foot 7 inch frame.

I got word this morning that he had a stroke. His brain is bleeding and he is currently unresponsive. My parents are on their way to be with him in CA. If you could say a prayer that he would feel no pain, I would appreciate it. There is nothing else to be done at this point.

My heart is breaking....my Papa is something special. He had gone out of town to see his brother and sister for a nephew's wedding. It had been awhile since he saw his siblings. The good Lord made that visit happen.

Thank you, my friends.

Hoping for Comfort and Peace.

When did "Home" become a bad word?

I'm not sure when this happened, or how it happened, but somewhere along the way, the psyche of a social norm shifted from family-home-centered to work-a-holics....

Suddenly, life's sole value resides within the length of the to-do list; a day's success is measured by how many stores were seen, how many groceries bought, how many miles driven. Now, I understand we all have errands to run and places to go, but when did the norm become only being home long enough to catch a quick nap, hop in the shower, and do it all over again.

I want more.

And God has given me more.

I know the looks I get when I tell people that I haven't been anywhere, except for my homestead for days. They look at me and think surely she has a problem being out in public, or must be bored stiff at home. Truth be told, home is where I am me. Home is the place I find solace and refuge. Home is my Disneyland, my Target, my little corner bistro, my Starbucks.

Home is my world. I understand a world exists outside my four walls. I understand we must leave to earn a living, sometimes being gone longer than we would like. But that doesn't stop me from asking God to find someway for my husband to work from home. For us to be together, within our four walls, growing together in faith, and spending each day with the man I love beyond all measure.

Time is fleeting, and at the end of my life, I don't want to look back and see rushed, half-hazard moments of a money-crazed, time-crunched, over-caffeinated woman....I want to look back and see a woman with grace and poise, a woman who was a helper and friend to her husband, a woman who found money only has value if you do some good with it. Because materials come and go, in the blink of an eye, everything material can be blown away. But love is for keeps.

So I will continue to support my husband and his heart for service....knowing the checks will not fill our bank accounts, but rather, feed our souls. God has given me a heart for my home, and in turn, I will do all I can to create a healthy and loving home. I will work when I can, rest when I need to, and trust the Lord above to fulfill our Earthly needs.

What does it matter if my clothes are vintage or hand-me-downs. The furniture doesn't all match, and the blankets are worn around the edges. There is an abundance of flour to be turned into homemade bread, and the sink is stockpiled with homemade cleaning products. I don't wear a spiffy perfume, I rub coconut oil into my dirty, grubby hands.

And yet, I have a cozy home and the love of a wonderful man who loves me despite my grubby hands, and a Heavenly Father who bestows faith in me daily.

Home....it means so many different things to different people.

To me, Home is the best place there is.

Life in a Box

No, this is not a metaphorical title for the nooks and crannies of life, the separated and compartmentalized aspects of emotional and spiritual makeup. Rather, this is exactly as it reads....life in a box....

My in-laws have a storm shelter on their farm, and today, was the day we decided to christen the steel structure, and see how four dogs and four people would do tucked away beneath, hiding away from a potentially foreboding storm. Luckily, we can happily report that no tornado came too near, nigh a funnel. Although, the sirens did go off this afternoon, as a tornado was spotted east of our little town. (Sorry Mama, I didn't mean for you to hear those! Through a phone and thousands of miles away; I know you felt helpless wondering!)

God kept my little family safe, He kept that little protective bubble around us all.

My Cowboy....the reason I keep breathing, keep praying, keep going.

My hubby and my father-in-law....some of the greatest men; strong, unyielding, a comfort in the storm.

And my cutie patutie, my four-legged kiddo, who keeps this Mama laughin' and lovin'...she's a character!

Here's to tomorrow being a little less adventurous tomorrow, and if it's not to be, than another day with them.

Country Livin'

That was the scene in my backyard the week we moved here. Here being Texas. Texas being a state I never fathomed living. Planning being the bad "P" word I have banished from my vocabulary for fear of uttering it out loud. Planning is what you do when everything is right-side up in the world. Planning is mapping out the next step in life, crossing off the ABC's of living as you go along. Planning was what I used to write on post-its and stick in that red, leather bound calender book. That was until the night I had my world shaken and that red bound calender book went with it. All that was left on that to-do list, go to market for lemons and lettuce.

I never replaced that calender. I searched high and low for one, one that felt heavy and durable and sturdy like the last one. I thought I would buy one and fill it with all sort of plans for the future--vacations, vet appointments, work days, adventures, chores, family outings.....but alas, there was none to be found.

God helped me realize, through this proverbial calender, that my tight grasp on planning the everyday, is no way to live. That check lists and to-dos are no where near the vicinity of importance when juxtaposed with the realm of living, loving, and laughing. Sure, bills need to be paid, and groceries need to be bought. But no one will find it impossible to go on without the lemons and the lettuce. Life is not sustained on lemons and lettuce alone.

Since moving to my itty-bitty town in Texas, I have found that the absence of doing, the opposing side to distraction is by far, hands down, bar none, best way to enjoy living. That my time spent in the garden, with my hands grubby, and my heart full of prayer, is cathartic for the soul. Days of brushing horses and finding barnyard kitties, or taking a drive down the country roads and popping into town for a chocolate milkshake, are much more fulfilling than that of the bleary-eyed girl determined to cross off each objective of the day, planning the next month in advance, all the while, missing the moments in between. Life is about the in between not lettuce and lemons.

Happy Weekend.

On This Day

"This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice!"

I have been playing and replaying this over and over in my head today. I may not be close to my Mama for Mother's Day, but after we talked this morning, I felt like I was right there beside her. I am so grateful that I got to share some time with her over the phone. And thank you for all the prayers, she is doing much better.

(My Great Uncle had surgery the same day as my Mama, and he is doing very well, too.)

Lately, I stand back with grateful admiration, even with the little things. The cabinets full of food. The cool air running through the house. The clean bill of health Molly received from the vet. The sag of my husband's side of the bed, knowing I am blessed to have him home safe with me. The bills that we were able to pay for another month. The garden that is showing signs of promise for a bountiful harvest in the next couple of months.

And, lastly, quietly celebrating the fact that I am a Mommy, it's just that our little one went to Heaven ahead of us. And come that day, when we meet again, it will be an amazing day.

So on this day, celebrate the big things, the little things, and all the things in between.

My Marme....

I love my Mama. I love her to pieces. I love her the same way you love that first cup of coffee you hold to warm your hands on a snowy morning; being warmed all over. I love the hugs she gives, that sweet smell telling me I'm home, or as she would say, "Hi my little one". I love the sweet kisses she gives atop my head, or how she unravels my ponytail and gently shakes the tangles loose, dropping my auburn waves into a braid, resting atop my shoulders.

Today, my Marme had surgery. She is okay now, it was elective (electively-necessary). And I wasn't there. For the first time, I live too far now, and since the surgery came up quickly, I stayed behind to work and take care of my home. But my heart is miles away tonight, resting with my Marme.

If you find the time, would you please say a quick prayer for her. I know she would appreciate it. As would I.

Blessings.

My Brain is a Ping-Pong Ball

Ever find yourself writing, scribbling random notes, on random sheets of paper?

Or lying in bed and wondering which bill is due when? Did I....oh yeah, oh no....

Thinking, praying the rain will come and the ground will flourish....

Asking aloud, will the garden be enough to sustain us this year?

Farmers are by far, examples of God-fearing people....

Does my husband need to find more work, or is it more important to live simply and cherish our time together?

Should I get Molly a cat to play with, or is the random kitty from next door enough of a buddy for her?

Would banana-coffee muffins be a nice treat tomorrow morning?

How long will it take to publish my next children's book?

Is the coffeemaker ready for the morning? Am I ready for the morning?

Sheesh lo weesh....

But then I remember the quote, "Do not fear tomorrow, God is already there".

And just like that, all my worries melt away.

What once was fuzzy and hazy, is suddenly so very clear. Just like that.