A Last Look Back

As so many of us are inclined to do as we approach the new year, I'm taking some time to look back over 2010 and share some of the moments that stood out for me.

We started off the year learning to trust that God would take care of us in the face of unemployment. At the end of the year, I can honestly say that it's been one of the best things that's ever happened to us. We're stronger as a family, stronger in our faith, and living a life that was only a dream for us before. God is so good.

In the spring, I finally admitted to myself (and the entire world) that I have depression. It's true what they say...the first step is admitting you have a problem. Acknowledging that I suffer from depression has gone a long way towards helping me get a grip on it.

As much as I love doing things altogether with my family, I cherish the one-on-one moments I get to spend with my children individually. Bedtime is especially precious to me.

Sometimes, though, bedtime becomes a bit of a struggle. It's gotten better over the last half of the year, thank goodness, but there where days when I didn't expect to get a decent night's sleep again until 2018!

Becoming a farmer's wife has been one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. I'm a far cry from the city girl I used to be!

Every once in a too-rare moment, I have a spark of humor that keeps even me laughing for days. With any luck, I'll think up a few more next year.

And finally...the most joyful thing to happen in this or any year came from my oldest daughter. She is a ray of happiness that has been missing in my life for far too long.

I'm filled with gratitude for all the amazing things God has done for us and with us this past year, and so very thankful to be able to share these glimpses of my life here with you. The past twelve months haven't always been easy, but the friendships I've made here online have been more of a blessing to me than I'm capable of expressing with mere words. For the laughter, tears, hugs and chocolate wishes, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It wouldn't have been the same without you.

God bless, stay safe, and Happy New Year!

Wishes and Prayers

Remember how I was wishing for snow?

It came.  In the stillness of night, as we lay dreaming, it came.

We did, indeed, make our snow angels...

...and our snowmen.

We had snowball fights...

...until our cheeks and noses were rosy.

And then, we played some more.

And now my children know that prayers can be answered, and wishes can come true.

The Perfect Gift

I've been in a bit of an emotional slump this week, no worse than anyone else feeling the stress of the holidays approaching. Frankly, given my struggles with depression, I've been pretty pleased with the fact that I've managed not to fall into any deep emotional black pits.

Yesterday, though, I came awfully close.

I got broad-sided by a letter.

The letter. The "perfect" letter. You know the kind. The letter included in the Christmas card from the perfect mom writing about her perfect family and the perfect blessings they've received over the course of a perfect year from a God that loves them perfectly. Front and back, bragging about the stable job her husband continues to hold after 22 years, the flawless daughter working part-time as a nurse while working towards a degree who is content to live at home until she marries because she's pure and perfect. The sons continuing their education while still making time for missions trips. The younger children excelling in their studies. All the way down to the four-year old that loves writing her letters. The perfect family and their perfect life.

And on the bottom of the card, beneath all the names..."Would love to hear all about your family!"

Oh, such crushing pain I felt as the old, familiar doubts wrapped themselves around me.

You're not a good enough mother.
You're a lousy wife.
You're a terrible Christian.

God doesn't really love you.

I wanted to rage and scream and cry. I wanted to grab my husband's axe, go out to the back acre, and chop something down. I wanted to release this swelling force within before it overwhelmed me.

Quietly, I checked that the children were happily occupied, went outside, and fed the chickens.

Hot tears traced their way down my cool cheeks as I stood in the barnyard and watched as the chickens pecked and fussed and strutted around me. I looked across the distance to my home and heard a calm voice in my heart.

"You. Are. Blessed."

And it's true. I am blessed. I know it. I feel it. I live it every day. I'm blessed that God removed my husband from a job that kept him away from home over seventy hours a week and opened the door to his life-long dream of being a farmer. In a time when many are facing foreclosure, I'm blessed not only to have a home but this home, this land, with all the room we need to work and grow. I'm blessed to have these children, each one as unique as their fingerprints, each gifted in their own way, that not only love me but show me their love in hundreds of ways every single day. I'm blessed that, long before I was born, the Son of God was born into this world to give His life as a ransom for mine. I'm blessed beyond measure with a life more abundant than any I could have dreamt of for myself.

My life is loud and messy, sometimes stressful, often hectic and rarely peaceful. My faith is imperfect, but with God's leading, I'm growing in it. My husband, my children, my home...none of it is "perfect". But they are perfect for me. Perfect blessings from a perfect God who loves me perfectly. I don't need to look at what I don't have or the things I haven't done; I need only look to the One that gave His all for me.

Father, I know that every good and perfect gift comes from You. Thank You for once again opening my eyes to see them.

I pray that in this special time when we remember the birth of our Saviour, each of you are enjoying the perfect gifts our perfect God has blessed you with. From my Barefoot family to yours, Merry Christmas.

Wishing For Snow

I wish it would snow.

(My yard this morning...nothing but leaves.)

Now, I follow enough people on Twitter to know that most of the general population would think I'm crazy for making a statement like that. Millions of people just got all the snow they could want for an entire winter...and winter hasn't even officially started. But bare with me and I'll explain my temporary departure from sanity.

I grew up in Kansas. I remember my childhood winters in the '70s, when schools would close for days and the snow would go up to your chest if you were crazy enough to go out in it. I remember long, housebound days of drinking hot chocolate, eating warm donuts my mother made from scratch and the hours spent playing Tanks on our Atari 2600 with my brother or The Game of Life with my sister. (Does anyone else remember that game the way I do? Back then, it was a good thing to have lots of kids, and my sister made up a rule that would give us each nearly twenty. The last version I bought, intending to relive my childhood fun with my own daughter, was more concerned with saving the whales and actually penalized you for having too many kids. I threw it in the trash and have never played it since.)

I remember my teenage winters in the '80s, and getting stuck in Knob Noster, Missouri on our way home from Florida because I-70 was shut down. When we finally, wearily, made it home, the drifts from the snowplows had blocked our driveway. We had to scale a small white mountain to get onto the yard and giant-step our way to the front door.

I remember my 20-something winters in the '90s, when I kept the faucets running all night to prevent the pipes from freezing when it was -18 degrees. Snowstorms that knocked the power out started as early as mid-October and would keep coming as late as March, with an occasional ice storm in January, just to keep things interesting. I remember taking over forty-five minutes to get home from a job that was only fifteen minutes away.

And I remember my last winter in Kansas, ten years ago, when I only had three children and none of them were teenagers yet. I remember the perfect snow falling fat, fluffy and all day long on the perfect Christmas. And those three precious, perfect little girls dancing and playing and laughing in their last Christmas snow. Even now, my heart aches anew at the beauty of their joy that day.

We have had snow since we moved to South Carolina, sometimes as much as twice in one season. Rarely does it last long enough to go out and play in, and never does it accumulate so much that you could really complain about it. Last year, Christmas Day was a down-pouring flood of rain. Not a flake of snow to be found.

Yes, I wish it would snow. I wish I could wake up to a magical wonderland outside my front door. I would bundle up my children and lead them out to explore the cold, white world. And when the last angel was made, the last snowball thrown, and the scarf tied securely around the snowman's neck, I'd lead my red-nosed children inside for hot chocolate and warm, homemade donuts. We'd snuggle together under blankets on the couch, shivering and giggling, watching the snow falling down like tiny frozen stars from the sky.

There's an old saying that goes, "Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it."

Maybe I am crazy.

Because I still wish it would snow.

Candy Cane

What happens when you let a sixteen-year old with an excess of Christmas cheer dress her little sister?

You get your own personal candy cane. (All the way down to the striped socks, no less.)

For the record, while I don't always agree with my teenager's personal clothing choices (camo pants with a Beatles shirt is not a style I endorse) she knows that only a toddler could look adorable like this.  That much fashion sense she does have.

A Pack of Perrys

I'm not one of those people that do the "Black Friday" thing. Not before this year, anyway. But when I saw that these thermal shirts were going to be on sale for four dollars apiece, I couldn't resist.

And I couldn't wait until Christmas morning to give them to the kids. Can you blame me?

(In case you don't recognize it from the picture, that's Perry the Platypus from "Phineas and Ferb", one of the few shows I used to let my kids watch when we had satellite. Gotta love that semi-aquatic, egg-laying mammal of action!)

Two Weeks

I've spent a week letting this post float around in my brain, hoping the words would simply pour out of me like water. But it's not words that want to flow...it's tears.

I count myself more than fortunate to have had two weeks with my father. Two weeks that he finally got to meet my precious Mary.

Two weeks of Sarah...

...and Ben...

...getting to know a grandfather they couldn't remember from infancy.


Two weeks of Rebecca and Emily reconnecting with the grandfather they've missed so dearly.

Two weeks of watching a husband and a father that actually enjoy each other's company.

And for myself? Two weeks of being accepted and loved for who and what I am. No disappointments, no reprimands, no unwanted advice meaning to be helpful, no condemnation or condescension. Just love.

Thank you, Daddy, for two weeks that I didn't have before. I will never let them go.