He has risen, just as He said

"The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; He has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples. " Matthew 28: 5-7a

Happy Easter to you and yours.

Joyfully,
Kathleen

The release program has begun

A few weeks ago, the oldest rode his bike to the store to buy 1/4 inch rope. The release program has begun. His cheeks were glowing. He was so excited to have ventured forth. Found his way -- back and forth.

As a mom the what-ifs creep in: what-if someone snatched him. What if he got injured? What if he got lost? What if a dog attacked him? Was it the right decision to let him go?

But yet, I, too am in danger every time I venture forth: what if someone snatched me, what if a dog bit me? What if I was in an accident? I, too, venture forth in a myriad of horrible possibilities every day. Usually they don't happen.

When I voice my fear or what I've done to other moms, we share the most, worst awful horrible story that has ever happened to us or our neighbor or that we have read about. And that feeds my fear.

But, truly, one day he needs to live on his own and be the protector of the weak. Oh, I know he is young. But I also know that when I was his age, I biked and biked and biked all over. I loved the exhilaration. It was good for my imagination, my exercise, my sense of direction, my independence.

And so it is good for his imagination, his exercise, his sense of direction, his independence.

We are beginning the release. After all, we are raising adults not children.

How about any of you? Do you have any release tips from your own parenting or your own growing up years? I am all ears!



Jen @ Finding Heaven for Soli Deo Sisterhood. Come and join the encouragement.

Tips from the Trenches: On Toilet Paper

A little tip from the trenches today. In an effort to be more frugal and also because some folks gave us some toilet paper, I decided to no longer be married to one brand of toilet paper. I listened to the frugal folks. They say, "Buy what's on sale; buy generic; don't be loyal to brands."

So I did just that. I switched to a cheaper brand.

Not only did I get less expensive toilet paper, I also received some great, new parenting advice through the experience. I haven't seen it in any parenting books or expert columns and certainly not upon the frugal blogs that gave the tip about not being loyal to brands. I understood that brand loyalty gets you in trouble with the frugal bottom line.

I have a problem, though. The great parenting advice and the frugal advice have a conflict.

Frugal says: Buy what's on sale.

The pretty azaleas in our front yard.

Great parenting advices says: Don't switch toilet paper brands if you have kids.

We have used a brand that is quite thin. For years. I have four children.

I switched to a thicker, softer toilet paper. It was cheaper but the frugal skeptic in me wondered if it would last as long because it was thicker.

Did I mention that I have kids?

They didn't make an adjustment to how much toilet paper they were using.

A plunger now lives next to the toilet.

Do I need to say more?

I am brand loyal again to the original toilet paper that I used to buy and the plunger still lives next to the toilet.

The things they didn't tell me at my baby showers! Don't switch toilet paper if you have kids.

But now I know. And so do you!

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I am linking up with Leila & Rosie at Like Mother, Like Daughter today. It is a favorite blog of mine and is on my sidebar. Leila is a homeschooling mother of eight (she has launched 7) with practical, real advice.

Welcome to any visitors from Like Mother, Like Daughter and to all who stop by today. Thanks for reading.

The link-up is suppose to be more pictures of happy, pretty, funny, real and not necessarily words. But, we don't have a digital camera so time sensitive photos that tie-in into my blog posts just can't happen easily. But I thought that this story would tie into being real and funny. I did add a picture of the azaleas in our front yard from last spring. But that same bush is blooming right now!

I hope you enjoy linking up and enjoying other stories of pretty, happy, funny, real. Come and join us!

Also linking up with the Coffee Company girls at Home Sanctuary. I truly enjoy the camaraderie from this group!

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And to tie back into my blog post:

How about you? Do you have any tips from the trenches of life?

My new friend, Morning

I am becoming friends with Morning. There was a time when we were enemies.

For many years, duty demanded that I get up. The alarm went off. I went through the motions and then I took off for the day. Then, the days of little ones surrounded me. Their hungry bellies compelled me to get up and feed them.

But, I have always delighted in the night time hours -- anytime after 9 p.m. During high school, I stayed up late reading. Then came college when I stayed up late talking & talking & talking. Most of my closest friends in college were made during those late night talks.

Over the years of parenting, I have realized that my late night tendencies and my Morning avoidance were a detriment to mothering well. So there has been a lot of angst and push and pull to get up earlier.

There have been bouts of pushing myself to get up earlier, no matter what. I just need to do this. But, after a couple of months of getting up earlier and only rarely going to bed earlier, I would crash and burn, usually punctuated by sickness.

I would feel so much guilt. I began to set up Morning (as in getting-up-early-in-the-morning) as an idol, a cure-all for all of my failings & down-falls. There was too much pressure on Morning to deliver me from all of my short-comings.

Most of the time, I would get rolling slowly in the morning. When the expectations of the day and the reality of the day would come crashing in on me, I would feel guilty for sleeping in. I would lose my temper easily with my children.

Resolved to do better, I would get up early the next day. And lo, and behold, I was still be quick to lose my temper with my children.

Getting up early didn't solve all my problems!

I was in a lose-lose situation.

I had to get out of thinking that Morning would save me. No, Jesus saved me. Getting up early in the morning would not solve all my problems.

So, oddly enough, the first real step in becoming true friends with Morning was avoiding her, ignoring her. Don't look at the clock. Just get up and do your routine. No pressure.

Then, as time went on. I saw the need to get going earlier. The need to lead the children. When I went to bed earlier, sometimes I awoke on my own. Most of the time, I don't.

Finally, Morning and I have made peace.

I am not seeking to save my soul (or my parenting) via Morning. I don't hate Morning anymore. I have even liked Mornings on certain days!

What a shocking thing to say! What? Me, the night owl? Known for keeping crazy, late hours? How could I like Morning!?! (It was just as shocking for me to say: I like cooking but that is another story related to the one HERE.)

Morning and I now have a few wonderful shared moments together. Not a lot. But a few. And I found out that I like her!

This, this Morning that I have hated so long. I like her. She forgives me when I stay away for days and days. Just as happy to see me as if I had been there every day.

She is nice like that.

What does this look like? Probably on the outside about the same as it did before. Some days I get up and get going. Some days I snooze the alarm again and again. There are days I have even slept through my alarm. But, occasionally I wake before the alarm and have a beautiful time with Morning.

I have made peace with Morning.

We're in the early stages of building a friendship. I don't know that Morning & I will ever be kindred spirits. But at least we are becoming friends. And I think I like it.

* * *

How about you? Are you friends with Morning?

A few of my favorite things

A few of my favorite things: sunshiny days, my four children smiling, dancing with my husband in the kitchen, a full refrigerator. These are just a few of my favorite things.

Unplanned days, birds singing, the sunset over a lake.


Great conversation with old friends that really know you. Music that inspires me to create something of my own. That stirs the creativity in me.




New friends. Discovering new stories. Bible studies. Flowers. Easy going friends with loving expectations of me (which means that I can meet them. )

Being finished with a hard thing. The sweet, reward after a hard labor -- whether it is the end of a run, finishing teaching a lesson, or making that difficult phone call.

Cozy blankets on a cool day. Iced coffee in the shade on a hot day.



Digging deep into the Bible, sharing what God is teaching us day by day. These are a few of my favorite things. This topic: a few of my favorite things causes me to write in fragments & not sentences.

Pens, pencils. Time to think. A slow, leisurely pace with no missed deadlines.


Moments where I am all in the moment of where I am. Not thinking about tomorrow or yesterday. When I fully live in the moment, that is definitely a favorite thing.

* * * *
This is part of the Gypsy Mama's Five Minutes on Friday -- to write for five minutes where it doesn't need to be right. I thought I had time for at least that this week.

Also linking up with Rachel Anne at Home Sanctuary for Company Girl Coffee.

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What are some of your favorite things?

My friend Melanie

I saw her walking across the playground by the ball field all by herself.

My friend Melanie.

Melanie: the one who befriended the girl who no one else would talk to. So now no one talked to her.

Including me.

Even though....

. . . we had laughed together at each other's houses. Even though we'd been to each other's birthday parties, worked on school projects together, and even talked about God into the wee hours of the morning. We had shared our hearts.

Even though she was my friend. I ignored her.

We had met in the third grade when a mutual friend introduced us. My friend found Melanie on the playground because she beat up the boys. Melanie came to our rescue. I don't remember any bruises or anything. I think it was mostly that she was tall and unafraid. But either way, after that, the boys left us alone.

The following year, Melanie & I were in the same class. Everyone in the class had fun together. We were all friends that year. Fourth grade was a wonderful year.

But that was the fourth grade and this was the sixth grade. Things had changed. Different rules applied.

Melanie talked to the girl. You know the one. The one no one talked to. Not only did Melanie talk to her, she sat by her at lunch. She befriended her. Therefore, sixth grade rules applied. You talk to her, no one talks to you.

So, no one talked to Melanie, including me.

I missed her. But I wanted more than one friend. I wanted us all to be friends. Honestly, I didn't even know if I liked the girl we weren't suppose to like or not. I just knew I didn't want to be shunned. So I didn't talk to her or to Melanie. Even though I wanted to.

Instead, I hung out with the cool people.

Until that day: the one where I noticed Melanie walking around the playground all by herself.

Now, I wish it could be said that I had noticed her all by herself for a good reason. Even the girl that she had befriended didn't appreciate her and had run off to hang with someone else. And Melanie was alone. I would like to say that is why I noticed her.

But it wasn't.

It was because it was my turn that day to be shunned.

That day the cool people decided it was my turn. No one was to talk to me. At first, I was wondering if it was happening. We were in class after all. But once we were all at lunch and recess, it was quite obvious that no one was talking to me.

I pestered Lynn again and again and again. "What did I do?" I was quite bothered that I had done something wrong. Finally, Lynn told me, "You didn't do anything wrong. We just wanted to see what you would do if everyone ignored you."

Really?

I walked away.

That's when I saw Melanie across the playground, walking all by herself in the empty baseball diamond.

The one who stood by the girl when no one else did.

The one who welcomed the new girls to school even when the new girls didn't keep being her friend.

The one who laughed with me.

The one who shared secrets with each other and no one else.

The one who introduced me to the sacred truth.

She was alone. And I now I knew this truth, too: One true friend is way better than a whole crowd of cool people. That I knew.

What I didn't know was if I had lost my chance to be friends with Melanie. I didn't deserve to be her friend. I had ignored her for weeks. I had hurt her. I was ashamed.

Nevertheless, I walked up to her across the playground. I don't remember what words I used or if I ever asked to be forgiven. But I do know that she walked back across the playground with me that day. And I felt forgiven.

We were both smiling.

That time wasn't the only bump in the road of our friendship. There were other times we hurt one another. But never intentionally again.

Me & My friend Melanie, last summer (yes the image is a little fuzzy).
When I can scan an old photo of us I'll come back and edit to have a then & now photo.

She has been a true friend to this very day. My friend Melanie. The friend I have had the longest.

One true friend was better than the cool crowd. I'm glad I learned that lesson in the sixth grade.

* * * *

How about you? Do you have life lessons that you learned in the sixth grade? Have you had a true friend like Melanie in your life? What have you learned about friendship through the years?

Linking up for some Company Girl Coffee HERE at Home Sanctuary.
Come & join us. It's fun. Or simply clicking on the blog hop below makes it even easier.

On Waiting for Spring

The trees in our backyard: photo by my Firstborn.

On waiting....

On waiting for spring. In the dark, dreary, gray-clouded season of winter, I have been waiting for spring. At first winter is glorious, some snow. A chance to hunker down early for the night. To expect less of myself.

But then, one day there is a bright, sunshiny day in the midst of winter, reminding me that spring will come again. I look forward to it. It gets gray again. Then, I want spring. The next nice spring-like day comes again. And I rejoice in it. I revel in it. I'm so glad that it is here.

"Spring is here," I announce to myself. Then, it is gray and dreary again for it is only February. And remember the groundhog? He himself declared 6 more weeks of winter. I settle in and stop wishing for spring.

It is too hard to endure the gray & dreary days of February as I long for bright sunshine filled days of spring. Warm days with no coat. Warm days with no bugs in it yet. But it is too hard so I resolve not to think about spring anymore.

Then somewhere down deep in my heart, I find I have stopped waiting for spring. I stopped hoping.

And then, my five-year-old bursts through the door shouting, "Mommy, mommy." I think someone has been hurt. But no he is just running to bring me the first dandelion of spring. "Mommy this is for you." He says with his bright-grin.

The azaleas from our front yard last spring: photo by Kathleen.

And I am surprised. How can it be spring? How can something be growing? In the waiting, I failed to keep hoping. And now I am surprised by spring. Can it be here already? How can there be buds on the trees and daffodils in the ditches? It crept up unawares when I stopped waiting.

*****

What are you waiting for? Or have you stopped waiting

***

Today's post was inspired by Gypsy Mama's Five Minute on Friday writing prompt: On waiting. I found her blog through the Fan the Flame blog.

I decided to dive in and try this. And, actually, I was kind of surprised at the five minutes of writing that I did. After my five minutes of writing, I did edit two spelling words and add some quotation marks. But otherwise, this is what I came up with in five minutes of writing on this Friday, March 18 for the prompt: On waiting.

(From the Gypsy Mama's blog: This is the place where once a week we take the chance to just write, and not worry if it’s just right or not.

For five minutes flat.

Here’s how the game works: you simply stop, drop and write. Set your words free. Don’t edit them, don’t fret over them, don’t try to make them perfect.).

Join us over HERE and perhaps you'll be surprised with what you can do in five minutes, too.