If you have been reading my blog, you already know that when we moved seven months ago, I lost my income since I run a home daycare. I re-did my license for this new home, but since I am unknown in the area, had been unable to acquire any new daycare families. We tried everything: advertising, posting flyers, taking adds out in the paper and on Craigslist… And got nothing more than one little girl who comes for one hour after school each day!

I have been questioning God, and my faith has even faltered a bit. In the past few weeks, as Pastor John has spoken about God waiting until the absolute last possible moment to answer - just so that we would know that It was God and not us, I began to have hope that that is what was happening.

For most of the year we have been planning to travel to Nebraska (my home state) for my brother’s wedding. I missed my sister’s wedding a year and a half ago because I was in the end of my last pregnancy so I have not been “back home” for seven years. We had set aside some money for this trip and have had it in our savings account this whole time, but as the weeks and months have gone by without any income on my part, and as we have watched the rest of our money gradually dwindle down, we began to wonder if it would be wise to use that money for a trip.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband was told that his hours would be cut for at least two months. At that point we knew what we had to do – cancel the trip and use the money for living expenses.

I called my mom, and then my sister, to inform them of this change in plans. Of course they were disappointed. I explained everything and told them that several things would have to happen in order for us to go: John would need more hours, I would need daycare, and we would need some money that we have been expecting to arrive in time to fix the transmission on our Suburban. My sister asked me if I was praying for any miracles. I admitted that I had not. She said lightheartedly,

“Well, that’s what I am going to pray for ‘cause that’s more fun!”

That  was Tuesday. On Thursday I got a message from Pastor Rick that sounded urgent and called him at church. He told me that in all of his years of ministry this is only the second time that this had happened – someone wanted to give an anonymous gift through him!

I was speechless.

I had heard of God using that method to provide for a need for other people, but had never expected Him to do that for me! I explained the whole story. He laughed when I told him what my sister had said, adding that God had chosen to answer her prayer instead of any of mine!

I spoke to my husband later that day and he asked how much money was gifted. I told him that I had not asked, but that it would be the exact amount that he had calculated for the cost of the trip because the only reason we received this blessing was in answer to my sister’s prayer. He stopped to see Pastor Rick on his way home, then handed me the envelope without a single word the moment that he got home. It was the exact amount of the trip!!!

John told me to go ahead and call my mom and tell her that we could come after all, so I called her Friday morning. While I was talking to her, another call beeped through. It was a mother seeking full-time daycare for her toddler.

We had been worried about our old vehicle's transmission and even considered renting one for the trip. Over the weekend John’s family came because his parents had just returned from Florida and had not seen us since Christmas. His sister and brother in law also came. While they were here, the boys decided to shoot their BB gun with their uncles, so John had to go to the store to get more BBs. His brother in law, who is a mechanic, rode along. They got to talking about the transmission and James said that there is no problem with changing gears; it is simply getting a delayed signal. The difference between replacing a cable - or a $1700 transmission!

On Monday I got a message from someone at church who lives in this area asking if I have room for her three children in my daycare! Now, instead of begging God for just one or two daycare children, I am trying to adjust my schedule to accommodate all of the children that God is blessing us with!

So He did answer my prayers, too. But He waited until the last possible moment (You may remember me mentioning that that moment was coming. Deciding what to do about this trip and how much farther that money would take us without my income was that moment.) and He started by using one of His children to give me the gift of seeing the True and Living God at work for me!

 So THANK YOU to this child of God who was obedient to the tiny voice of God, because seeing how God chose to work everything out has increased my faith and that of some of my family as well.

He is the TRUE AND LIVING GOD and He is still working in our lives the way that he did for people in the Bible!

I like a clean house. I mean a really clean house. I like my house to look like it is perpetually poised for a Better Homes and Gardens photo shoot. (I guess I should have thought of that before I decided to have so many children!)


Once, when I was a little girl about the same tempestuous age as my own darling daughter, I was sent to my room for an attitude adjustment. I was angry at my Mom.

I decided to punish her.

At that time we lived in a house large enough for me to have my own bedroom (I also had fewer siblings at that time) so my mother had created a beautiful space just for me. She wall papered some of the walls with a lovely floral design and painted the rest a delicate pink. There was a plush pink rug on the hardwood floor and a dainty Pricilla-style curtain hung on the window. My parents had found an ornate cast iron bed in the attic of that house when we moved in and my dad had sanded it and painted it white just for me. It was a beautiful room and I always kept it clean. (I guess that Marthas can be Marthas even when we are young.)

On that fateful day, the punishment that I chose to inflict on my mother was to trash my room. I don’t know why! – cleaning our bedrooms was never a responsibility that my mother “owned” for us children. It was always ours. Nevertheless, I thought that if I really made a mess, it would show her!

Sometimes, in trying to inflict pain on others, we punish ourselves.

I sat in that messy room and started to feel uncomfortable. It was not my space. It did not feel like my haven. It felt like I did – out of sorts.

The longer I sat in that mess, the more uncomfortable I felt. I started to pick things up and put them away. As I reorganized my possessions, I felt my heart calming down, too. And by the time my bedroom was set aright; my attitude had been properly adjusted. I guess that’s just what I needed in order to sort through my frustrated feelings that day.

There were many occations in my childhood when I needed an "attitude adjustment." Sometimes my dad would suggest one, or even offer to "give" me one!

There are times when I need them, still.  I want to say, "You kids sit here on the couch and don't move. Mommy needs a time-out in her room!"

 Can I do that?

When my oldest child was little, he would get all bent out of shape over something and start to fume and fuss. I would say, "Go to your room and come back when you are happy."

One day this happened when my mom was here. I saw her eyebrow go up (she is one who believes in taking a more direct approach to correction and redirection - this must have seemed somewhat passive to her) so I said, "Watch this." Soon my tiny boy came back into the kitchen with a smile on his face and exclaimed, "I'm happy now!" in his shrill little voice. Oh, that it would always be this simple! He is fourteen now. Some days I think that if I tried sending him to his room until he is happy, I would never see him again!

For some reason, I have gotten away from this method over the years. Some of my children are private and withdrawn so I didn't want to miss moments with them because they are all too happy to sit in their room alone.

Yet, there is some real value to having to make the choice to improve one's attitude.

To be in charge of that action rather than having it required of you.

Scripture reminds us of this in 1 Corinthians 10:5 where it says:

"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

It is a matter of  choice.

Choosing to make my thoughts obedient to Christ.

Choosing to keep my thoughts obedient to Christ.

"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things." Philipians 4:8

Maybe it is time to dust off the "self - adjusting" method with my kids and give the younger ones the opportunity to learn to take charge of thier own attitudes...

- Just as I am reminding myself to do the same.

I was noticing my hands the other day while I was driving. When my husband and I were engaged (and I had an office job) one of his friends told him that my hands looked like those of a hand model.

Not so now.

One day a sweet little daycare child told me that my hands are “skatchy.” They seem to have the potential of being lovely, but my life prevents it.

As I was thinking about this, I realized that my hands look like my mother’s. I remember looking at her hands when I was a child and noticing that they looked dry. I asked her why she did not paint her nails because they seemed like the kind of nails that begged to be pretty. Now I understand. My girls asked me to paint mine the other day. The next day they were ruined. It seems that nail paint has no resistance against dish washing.

From the time that I push “snooze” first thing in the morning until I play with my husband’s hair while I am winding down at night, my hands are constantly busy. 

Of course there is the work: washing dishes, sorting and folding laundry, scrubbing the “artwork” off of the walls, cleaning the bathrooms…

But there are other things, too. Things that are almost too small to notice: stroking a child’s cheek (or my husband's just after he shaves), rubbing my boy’s prickly hair after it has been “buzzed”, feeling for a fever, combing flaxen curls…

I take all of these little things for granted, yet I'd miss them terribly if I ever had to do without the use of my hands.

I hold my Tiny Boy’s hand because he has decided that he is big enough to walk everywhere now, although he has not learned the concept of danger.

Sometimes my hands hold the Bible and sometimes my hands hold the “belt” in the instruction and correction of my children.

I even use my hands to express my thoughts in the form of writing – or to help my tiny son express his thoughts in the form of sign language since he does not yet possess language skills.

I am a little bit of a “germophobe” – not bad enough to make anyone feel awkward around me, but enough to make me wash my hands many times a day causing them to crack and bleed in the winter.

No, there is nothing lovely about my hands anymore. They are just the ordinary, practical hands of a mother.

As I thought of the many things that a Mother does with her hands, I began to think about the hands of my Saviour, Jesus. With Easter fresh on my mind, the first thing that I thought of was the nail holes. Scripture tells us that God chose not to remove His scars – even though He could have done that just as easily as He raised Him from the dead! He used these scars to prove to His disciples that It was really Him! (Luke 24:38-40; John 20:19-20, 24-28)

With his hands he blessed children. (Matthew 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-16)

With His hands He healed sick people. (Mark 8:23-25; Luke 4:40; 13:11-13)

With his hands he performed miracles. (Mark 6:2)

With his hands he washed the disciples feet in order to give us an example of how to serve others. (John 13:3-5, 12-17)

Even though His hands are scarred with holes that I could put my fingers through, I think that the hands of my Lord are BEAUTIFUL! They represent all of the love that He had - and that He chose to spread out his arms on a cross and lavish that love on me! Not only do they remind me to love with that kind of abandon, but they also remind me what it means to serve fully and willingly just like He did.

Regardless of the chipped nails, rough skin and bloody cracks, I think that when I use my hands to serve others, my hands are beautiful to Him, too!

So are YOURS!

Just wanted to take a moment to thank you, dear friends, for your prayers and your patience with me as I have focused on other important things last month and allowed my writing to fall by the wayside.

As of this moment I have contracted one part-time daycare child who will start after school today! Praise the Lord! While this is not the full answer to my prayers, it certainly is an answer. God is working. I am still waiting to see what else He has in store for us, whether by providing a full daycare or another way (perhaps keeping some of my time free for writing?)

I had hoped to write a little bit about what Easter means to me last week but Baby was sick again and I never got a chance to sit at the computer for more than a few moments at a time.

Even though I am "...a day late and a dollor short" I will say this; Easter is not about bunnies, candy, eggs, and wearing a new dress to church. It is the most important holiday for Christians - - the day we celebrate this wonderful, sinless Saviour Jesus taking the consequence that we rightfully deserve for our sins - dying and being separated from the One, true, loving God - then doing the most marvellous thing: coming back to life of his own power to reverse the curse of death and give us the gift of eternal life!

That's MY king. I wonder, do YOU know Him?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yX_7j32zgNw&feature=related

Latisha