Movie Review (Time Changer)

Have y'all seen the movie Time Changer?
(I am not an affiliate but I wanted to let you know how to get this movie!)
We have watched this movie many times at our house. It is a cheesy b-flick. Acting is good for the most part. Silly special effects. But . . .
It addresses the changing of our society from one that is moralistic because Jesus commands it to one who has taken His name out of society and morals have depreciated dramatically.
We love this movie.
Every time we watch it we want to get rid of our TV!
In fact we have. Many. Many. Many. Times.
Only to get tired and give in to get one again.
But, we get disgusted after awhile with the TV.
It is a viscous cycle.
Will the TV come with to KY?
I really don't know! It is a big question at the moment.
However, if you have a TV I highly suggest you watch this fun for the whole family movie!

Kentucky Chronicles (Yikes!)

Reality hits . . .
we are moving.
Wow. I. Mean. WOW.
Sometimes you get caught up in the doing . . .
the planning,
the dreaming,
and the wanting,
that when it all is boxed up around you,
save your tooth brush and your summer garb,
and your painting over the tree that houses the heights of your children for 7 years,

and strangers are walking through your house preparing it for renting,
and your scared that humidity will halt happiness,
and ticks will constantly dig in,
and friends will be scarce,
and  . . .
and . . .
and . . .
You hesitate.
What are we doing?
Is this too high a climb?

But then the lawn chairs come out,
and the mason jars are filled with ice cold water,
and I look in my husbands eyes,
and he stares back.
Is the Lord trying to get our attention to slow?
Or is this just plain fear.

Fear can be bars holding back joy.

And when we sit back, and step out of a home that is dismantling to a mere house,
we know, in our hearts, in our souls, fear has taken root.
We can always come back,
we may not ever get another chance to go.
And so we take a breath,
smile out the frustrations,
and put one foot in front of the other.

Until You say no, we go.

Letters From Heaven

Kim's letter came today.

Kim sat with me as I held John,
for an hour after his last breathe left.
Kim, watched him as he crashed,
and the emergency crew did resuscitation on a 9.3 oz. babe.
Kim helped him as the blood flow stopped to his leg and talk of amputation mounted.
Kim spoke to him, loved him, cared for him, and prayed for him.

Kim was his main nurse.

We love her.

She wrote to me.
She wrote to us.
And she remembered.
And she grieved.

For the little boy whose sister made socks for him out of felt.
For the Mom and Dad who left the hospital without a baby,
Who held a box instead.
For a little life, that didn't last,
Here.

But she also spoke, through ink and pulp,
about the impact,
the power,
the joy,
that a 9.3 oz boy made.

And how they haven't forgotten.
Him.
Or us.

Oh yes, these short little lives do matter.
They are meant.
And once again I am left grateful,
for 9.3 oz.

And a nurse named Kim.

Kentucky Chronicles

Well, my hubby and I have loved Montana. We have learned so much and have been so grateful to be able to move here from WA almost 8 years ago.
MT is beautiful, peaceful, remote, and if you have ever seen the local news, well, let's just say the people are pretty good to each other here. (When we first moved we thought the news was a spoof.)
But . . . since coming we have changed. Our desires changed.
The Lord started by putting on our hearts the desire to homeschool, then to have me home from work, then to have more than two children, and somewhere in there to actually read our Bible, (yep, I know . . . it's quite a concept.) In the midst of all these changes, we also started to desire to live more simply, agrarian I guess you could say. One problem . . . we bought a house in the burbs. Neighbors don't really like earthen ovens in the burbs. <wink>

So we started looking at land. Yikes! We can't afford that! And then we started to grow a garden. Uhh, yah right, novices with a 60-90 day growing season at best. We spent so much money doing our garden it wasn't worth it. (Yes, we know how to get free compost. Problem is so does everybody else here and there isn't much to go around. Lol!)
Tried to sell our house. Market hasn't been super.
Also, we longed for some down home country living. Oh sure we are total wannabes. (My friend from Mississippi calls me a valley girl from time to time.) But why not risk it all for some good old fashioned country hospitality and hopefully Christian fellowship for us and our children? (There are lovely Christians that we have met here mind you, just different interests than us. We love you all our sweet Montana Brothers and Sisters!)
So we started praying to move. SIX YEARS AGO. Tried quite a few times. God said not so much. Then we had John.
And we were glad we had stayed.
And we thought we would just keep staying . . .
till,
Lexington, KY.
Store opening, application filled out, green light,
all systems check.

Walk through the open door.

So here we are pulling pictures off the wall, praying our house rents out easily, praying we will find a place to live. (Oh, did I mention we are pulling up with a U-Haul and no place to go. Yep, we are those people too.)
Life is about adventures. Nothing is stagnant. At the end, I would rather say, well, I tried that and it didn't work out, rather than, I wonder if . . .

Thank you God for open doors.
Thank you God for closed ones.
Thank you God for life!

What's New?!

Well, big things are happening here . . .
no, no baby in the belly . . .
but something new is underway . . .
we are moving to Kentucky!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pursuing our dream!
Homesteading is on our heart,
and the Lord has begun to open doors.

Step one . . . we need to move . . .

More to come to a blog near you!

Ashes to Ashes

"Mom," seven year old boy starts,
"I wish we could give John a birthday present."
Pause in the family, as all look to our dear living boy.
"I know," I replied.

"Wait! We could get balloons and let them go and they can get to John in heaven!"

So before we put the body of our little man to rest,
we bought balloons.

Each had their own choice, and gripped tight.
Mine was a birthday cake balloon.

"Don't worry Mama," four year old says, "If you cry I will hug you."

My husband spoke words of kindness and truth,
reflections of sweet babe,
and precious life.
He spoke of the future.
Of heaven and of grace.

My four year old cried.
"This is very hard for me."

But later, we smiled,
sending balloons high,
our voices loud,
Happy Birthday John!
We watched as they blew away.
Far far far . . .
too far to see.
Then the invisible.
The memory.
We smile because he was here.
We smile because we will meet again.

We smile because we were given the gift of life.

In Memory of My Little Man

Here is a video of us at the hospital. I just recently watched it for the first time. I was very drugged, pained and in shock, but I wanted to post it as it shows he was really here. These small babies are really alive. And how dare we as a society think we could choose to take their lives.

I Can See Him

My three oldest play on the floor at my feet.
Cars and blocks transform into houses and families, armies and wars.
Somehow, they all find a way to play together.
My two year old still sleeps.
Sun streams slightly through the cracked curtains,
and my pajamas are on inside out,
due to a hot night of changing in and out
to get comfortable in the dark.
This year has had so many times of trying to get comfortable in the dark.
But right now, I can look at the sun and see clearly,
and I can picture him.
I picture him healthy, born on time, 8 month old, crawling,
standing, smiling, blond haired, blue eyed boy.
I see him trying to keep up with his sisters,
and longing to be like his brother.
And I mourn.
It is the picture of my desires.
My desires though are false,
because His desires reign supreme.
And through my tears,
I can see him,
perfect and praising the King.
I know he is the fortunate one.
And I rejoice,
Knowing this is not the end.

Happy Birthday baby John.

An Honor

Reading words on a page,
a window, a door, that only unlocks when a child is ready.
I can't force it, pry it, or break it open.
Our son, beautiful boy of 7 years old,
has tried and tried, small words,
moments of clarity, as a sentence will come alive on paper.
It has been harder for him.
Until . . .
click.
"James," Daddy said,
"Why don't you try reading Proverbs to us tonight."
It is an honor to read Proverbs at our family table.
The person who reads must pause periodically for the
guests to finish the stanza.
It is rousing and raucous.
It is playful and powerful.
Every night we learn from the Book about
how we live our lives.
My heart beat wild as my son took the Word.
Would he feel tongue tied and twisted inside,
as he conveyed the Lords wisdom?
He started to read, slow and steady,
then a smile spread and inflection and power filled his
voice.
He conquered,
pausing to try and stump the waiting with what comes next.
He read the whole Proverb. He did it with passion.
And He felt alive inside the land of the literary.
He is a reader. He has his place of honor at our table.

This Mama couldn't be more excited.
Nor more proud.

Thank you Jesus.