A Conversation With Caleb Bell...

This morning, my children and I began our errands.  Paying bills and getting groceries is something we do once a week, and most of the time it turns into a one on one conversation with my four year old son.  (Well, he will be four in 11 days.)  The conversation is never something that I'm ready for, and it always leave me wondering, "Where in the world did he come up with that?"

Today was no different. The conversation began as it usually does...with an INNOCENT question. It went a little something like this...

"Mom, is Dan (my mom's husband) your daddy?" Caleb asked. "You know like my dad is my dad and stuff?"
Dan and my mom married about a year after my dad passed away.  Caleb was two.
"No, Caleb, Dan isn't my dad. My dad is in heaven. Dan is my step-dad." I answered.
Caleb thought for a moment, then asked, "Your dad is my poppa, right?"
"Yes, Caleb, that's what you called him." I answered.
"He died right? Like my dog Tonka did, and Grammy's dog, Archie."
"Yep."
Then there was a long silence, and well, it's never good when my boy is quiet for that long. Because he is thinking up a honkin' question that's gonna knock your socks off.
"Momma, do you think that Poppa and Archie and Tonka are all together?" Caleb asked.
"I think so...Maybe they're fishing in the river of Jordan or something."  By this time, I had gotten bored with the conversation and wasn't paying much attention.  But as I looked into the rear view mirror at him, I saw his head was bowed and he was crying.
"Don't cry buddy. It's okay."
"Well I was just thinking we might could call Poppa, so I could call him and tell him I missed him." he sniffed.
"Well Caleb, we can't call heaven. But Jesus is there, and if you ever wanna tell Poppa anything, you just pray to him and I'm sure he'll make sure Poppa gets that message." I tried to comfort him feeling on the verge of tears myself.
"I bet he was a good dad like mine, huh?" he said.
"Yep," I answered.
"Well I hope we can go there someday and be with him and my buddy Tonka." He looked out the window with sad eyes.
"We will, someday. Everyone who love the Lord gets to go." I replied.
Then without a missing a single beat....he said to me..."Mom, when do we get to die?"
Catching me off guard, I stammered a little, then I said, "Caleb, someday we will get to go to heaven, but that day isn't today I don't think. When it's time, God will let us know.  Until then, you just keep praying all your messages to Jesus. K?"
"Okay momma." he smiled. "Can I play the Wii when we get home?"

It amazes me how a four year old child can observe the way they do, and come up with stuff that actually makes sense.  It's also scary that they can ask us things that makes us afraid to answer.  I have a feeling I might need to brush up on my bible studies a little more before our next grocery run, whadoya think ya'll?

Not My Mother's Daughter...

My mom was the world's greatest house keeper.  When I lived at home, there was never a time that I didn't have clean clothes or a hot meal on the table. A square meal...a protein, a vegetable, a starch, and milk.  After dinner, the kitchen was cleaned (Spotless). The laundry was always done when it hit the floor.  The floor, could have been the kitchen table.  She made our house a home. Bedtime was family time. I snuggled in bed with her at least 3 times a week.  My dad would carry to my own bed after I drifted off to sleep listening to my mom read to me.

My mom and Caleb when he was born.

My house, on the other hand, makes my mom's house look like a castle. The living room is always equipped with various toys, which are scattered across the floor.  There is always at least two laundry baskets full of clothes in the corner.  Our bedrooms (all three) look like a tornado hit them 85% of the time. My kitchen is often laughable, and I get angry when my husband invites company over without telling me.  There is ALWAYS a mountain of laundry in my laundry room, and no matter how hard I try, we rarely see the floor.

But there is one thing I get from my mom.  At the present moment, my two children and I are lying in my over sized queen bed, watching The Upside Down Show.  I am listening to them breath in and out, and writing this.  My baby girl is to my right, my boy on my left.  Sometimes one will roll over and put their hand on my cheek and say, "I love you momma". They are the very reason my house is such a mess. After working all day, I'd rather sit with my children in a messy home, than ignore them in a clean one.  Someday I will figure out how my mom juggled a job, our household, and still managed to make me feel special.  Until then, one of these categories is gonna have to be neglected, and I assure you, it won't be my children.

If you have children, be sure their memories of you leave them longing to go back in time.....

If not me, then who?....If not now, then when?

In the beginning I had lots to say.  But a year later finds me in a funk.  I don't  have much to say.  I would rather spend my time in the middle of a story that I'm dying to tell, but scared to death to let someone see.  I have aspired to write a novel since I was in the sixth grade.  Creative writing was my absolute favorite time of the day. But in the sixth grade, you don't spend a lot of time second guessing yourself.  Today, I write a page, and then I spend three hours dissecting every single sentence.  Eventually I crumple it up, and toss it in the trash.

It's the same story.  It's been in there for a while now.  The characters are like old friends, and the place they live is like my own utopia. But I can not get the words out.  Not by laptop, and not on paper. Then I think to myself, "Well, maybe this isn't meant to be."  Then why do these people and this place continue to push themselves into my mind. I can't let them go, and I can't forget them.  

I tried to get help.  I e-mailed the first chapter to a trusted friend who encouraged me to continue with my writing.  That chapter has been deleted, and I started over 13, yes I said it, 13 times since then.  No lie, no exaggeration. It's been said that an artist must suffer for his art.  Well, when does the artist know when to continue to suffer, and when to give up?  Maybe I'm one of those crazy people on American Idol who really really thinks they can sing, except...they really really REALLY can't.  Maybe I really really want to write, but I just can't.  I don't know what's worse, wanting to write and not being able to, or trying to write and feeling like it's not good enough.

I suppose someday I'll find the words to put on paper...but then, who exactly will be there to read it? Especially since I seem to be too scared to let them see....I swear! Whatever happened to jumping in with both feet, and having no fear? Whatever happened to taking a risk?  Maybe....someday....just not today....

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

Benjamin Franklin

My Heart Beats...Only For You.

             In all the hearts, in all the houses, in all the world, I'm glad mine is forever tethered to yours....

What a blessing to have someone to travel through life with.

Happy Valentine's Day to all who feel the need to express love to someone they know not just today, but any day!

Standing Still, I Wait Oh Lord....

The owner of this blog is on strike until she gets word from God Almighty as to what her next move should be. 

"Pray Until Something Happens"

Three years ago, when my dad died, I gathered up every single thing that was precious to me and hid it from the Lord.  It's like my faith is gone.  I want to give him all of me.  But I'm terrified to the point of darkness.  I lay in bed last night, and Jesus spoke to me.  Not in a still, small voice. No, in a voice so strong that he could be heard loud and clear.  "When are you gonna trust me again?" He asked.

The thing is, I've tried. But I'm overwhelmed with fear. A paralizing fear that if I trust him with my children, my husband, myself...that he will take them from me. So, I have surrounded myself with distractions to drown out his voice.  But last night, he came looking for me.  And finally, I answered.  It was in a small voice, but still, I answered.  My answer was, "I sure hope so. Could you just show me how?"

I haven't received an answer yet, so I've decided to wait....And get rid of my distractions.  Until then, I'm calling for all the prayer warriors who know me, don't know me, etc. Lift me up unto the heavens, and ask the Lord to give me peace to allow him to move within me so that I might trust him again. 

Song~ Stand Still
THE ISAACS
"The father has a plan. Though it's hard to see it now.  You feel your walking all alone, but he is there no doubt.  When the storm around you rages, and your tossed to and fro. When your faced with life's decisions, not sure which way to go.

Stand still, and let God move.
Standing still is hard to do.
When you feel you have reached the end, he'll make a way for you.
Stand still, and let God move.

When the enemy surrounds you, and the walls are closing in.  When the tide is swiftly rising, and you wonder where he's been.  Friend there never was a moment, that his arms weren't reaching out. You can rest assured and be secure God is moving right now.

Stand still, and let God move.
Standing still is hard to do.
When you feel you have reached the end, he'll make a way for you.
Stand still, and let God move"

Merry Christmas From All of Us.....

photo by: Jamie Pennington

photo by: Jamie Pennington

photo by: Jamie Pennington

photo by: Jamie Pennington

photo by: Jamie Pennington

 Please do not forget this season
 To celebrate the real reason...

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever should believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Luke 2:11
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 


From all of us, to all of you HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The House of Thanksgiving...

Today, was the first day in eight years of marriage that my husband and I have spent apart.  He started a new job in January, which requires him to travel out of town from time to time, and today was one of those times.  My children, both woke up in hateful moods, with snotty noses and pleas for their daddy.  My mom and I cooked thanksgiving dinner, and it was good, but I spent most of my day just wishing for two people who couldn't be there.  If I wanted to dwell on all of this negative, I could tell you that my thanksgiving was pretty crummy.  But that would defeat the whole purpose of thanksgiving, now wouldn't it.

A long time ago, our ancestors found themselves in a new country.  The weather was harsh.  Their families were becoming sick, and some even dying. They had little to eat, and they spent a lot of time trying to get their neighbors, the Indians (or what we should call the REAL Americans) to trust them.  Things were looking pretty grim.  But on this day, all those long years ago...they stopped what they were doing and entered into the house of Thanksgiving.  Despite all of their trials and tribulations, their disappointments and their failures, they recognized their blessings, and they gave thanks for them.

I am so thankful for a wonderful husband who works hard, and love me and our children.  I'm thankful for his job, and the home it allows us to have.  I'm thankful for my children, who are the best kind of chaos I never knew I wanted.  I'm thankful for a father who gave me a good example of what a husband should be, so that when it came time to choose my mate, I knew what I wanted that man to be like.  I'm thankful for my mom, who taught me to cook, clean, act, laugh, cry, forgive, love, and cherish all the days of my life. I'm thankful for a step dad who hopped into a crazy family feet first, and seems to enjoy every single minute of it. YES, I'm thankful for all of that...ALL of that and more.

So, today, I called my hubby up to tell him I love him, and wish him Happy Turkey Day before he jetted out to Cracker Barrell to have his big breakfast platter. I gave my baby girl a dose of Tylenol, and kissed my groucho baby boy and assured him his daddy would be home soon.  I cooked dinner with mom, and if I do say so myself, we made it look "Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy".  Now, I'm sitting here with my boy watching "Cars 2" while my tuckered out drama queen sleeps in her bed.  It was a good day.  So, for all of the above...and all of the not above...I enter into the house of thanksgiving.