This Season of Preparation

The weeks drag on for Mackenzy. She wrestles with her heart. With her fiance over 400 miles away, both of them working lots of hours, taking lots of classes, and having schedules that are mostly opposites, phone calls are few and far between, and it makes the waiting harder for her. She misses him. He misses her. And it's easy for them to just want the waiting to hurry up and be over.


Plans for the wedding are progressing. We have lots of the big pieces in place, but there are still millions of tiny details to determine. And during all the planning and working and studying, preparations need to be made in their hearts.


It's always a transition, learning to live together. It requires so much Grace. Even when you are deeply in Love, there will be sharp edges that need to be smoothed away. Preparing your heart to humbly walk the path of becoming one requires lots of prayer.


And that's what we are encouraging Mackenzy to do: trust the Lord for His Purposes in this season and don't miss the lessons available in the next few months.


During seasons that are unpleasant, the temptation is to wish them away. We can be tempted to shift into a survival mentality, planning to go through the motions, hoping the time will pass quickly and the unpleasant season will be over. 


But if we succumb to that temptation, we can miss learning things the Lord has for us in those unique times and circumstances. As students in His Classroom during this life, there are always lessons to be learned, Blessings to be found in His work on our hearts. 


Are our eyes open?


Do we expect Him to teach us in every situation? Every season?


The rate of our growth toward spiritual maturity is directly affected by our attentiveness "in class." When we expect lessons, we can often see Purpose where we otherwise would only chafe under unpleasant circumstances. 


There's always a lesson to learn that will help make us more into the image of Christ and to better prepare us for what lies ahead. Are we being good "students?"


Mackenzy is learning. And so are we. During these last few months with her living at home, we don't want to miss any lessons He has for us.


May we each walk in Wisdom, trusting His Purpose in all the circumstances He allows into our lives.

"It's Just Like Riding a Bicycle"

I am non-athletic. Completely. But, because of my sister's diligent efforts over a period of years, I used to be an okay skier.


The last time I went was eight years ago. It was a complete fiasco. I had convinced myself, since then, that I couldn't ski anymore. 


The boys' Scout troop was planning a trip to Ruidoso and Kregg asked a few weeks ago if I would like to come along and bring Elizabeth and Rebekah. My initial response was that I would come, but wouldn't ski. I was thinking I could watch them come down and snap a few pictures. At least the girls would get to go. But as it drew nearer, I got to thinking that I should at least give it a try. "It's just like riding a bicycle," he said. It was, after all, just for one day, and if it was dreadful I could sit at the lodge and stay warm, waiting for all of them.


So we made plans.


I would leave earlier than the troop with the four youngest. Kregg would wait for Caleb and his roommate, Warren, to drive in from college, and then they would travel up with the troop. 


We bought and downloaded a new audio book to listen to on the drive. (If you don't know about BlueBehemoth.com, you should check it out!) We got everything packed and loaded, and shut down the house. Then we took off. Kregg had printed me out a map with my route highlighted so I wouldn't get lost. Elizabeth, because she is very prone to motion sickness, was my navigator, sitting up front with me.


Several hours later, we pulled into our hotel, unloaded and then went to find dinner.

The wait for a table for five was 30 minutes so we opted for two adjacent booths. After eating, we went back to the hotel to await the arrival of the rest of the guys. It ended up being pretty late. Kregg pulled in and picked up Josh and Ben to deliver them to the house the Scouts were staying in, then came back to the hotel with the girls and me. 

Early the next morning, we headed up the mountain. Caleb always has a silly face ready when I point the camera at him. Warren is much more cooperative. He was so excited to go skiing for his very first time! He had no idea just how much fun he was in for, with Caleb teaching him to ski. :) He should know by now that anytime he comes with us on one of our trips, he's in for an adventure. 

I didn't tell her she had her ear band on backwards

Rebekah, in her permanent "snowplow"

It was a glorious day! Which really helped me be braver.

Kregg, Elizabeth, and Rebekah

Kregg, contemplating endless possibilities

Notice the name of this run? Inspiring for one who is "Wild At Heart!"

Elizabeth, Kregg, Warren, and Caleb, about to board the lift

Elizabeth and Kregg riding behind us

Rebekah is still very much a beginning skier, and she wanted me to stay with her. That was fine and it allowed Elizabeth, who is much more confident, to go and ski with Kregg on a little more difficult slopes. As the day progressed, Rebekah was doing better and better. We decided to join Kregg and the others for our last run of the day. 

Big mistake.

The slope we planned to attempt was not one Rebekah felt good about, once she saw it. But by that point, we were past the point of no return. The two of us decided to ski across a little path that bisected the run the others were taking, thinking it would lead us to the "easy way down." It didn't. She was really getting scared. And tired. Both of us were very tired, by that point. Scared and tired on a "black diamond" is a recipe for disaster. 

We took off our skis and carried them. It seemed like we walked forever. And still there was no way to the trail we needed. I was really very concerned that Rebekah was about at the end of her rope. And I just kept praying for the Lord to help us. It was getting later and later, and we were still on top of the mountain. We finally decided we would have to climb up one of the black slopes. That was a chore. Especially after we were already so tired. When we finally made it up, the trail we expected was no where to be found. I began to wonder what would happen if she was not able to keep going. 

We came out on the face of the mountain under the gondola. At least it was wide open. We put the skis back on, but she was so scared that I didn't know if she would be able to conquer her fear enough to do what she knew how to do. It was too far to walk down. She really needed to be able to ski. We just had to focus on tiny little goals. Once we made it part of the way down the face, we found the "easy way down," which made her feel better. She was skiing a little, and I kept reminding her that we were making progress and she would soon be on her favorite run. It probably took us over an hour to make it to that trail where she had gained so much confidence earlier in the day. By that point, it was completely in shadows and the surface had grown crusty and slick. But she did exactly what she needed to, staying in control of her speed and working her way back and forth down the slope. It's actually so much harder to ski that slowly than with moderate speed--I wanted to encourage her to speed up a little because I knew her legs were exhausted, but she needed to focus on what was working for her, so I just stayed close and kept cheering her on, telling her how proud I was of her attitude and perseverance. 

When we were about half way down that last run, and we had hope that we would survive it after all, a snow-boarder came whizzing down the slope. 

I could see it coming and I couldn't believe it. 

He took her out. 

She lay in a heap, whimpering, and I thought I was capable of murder for a moment. 

Not really. 

But I did just almost lose it. I'm ashamed to say that I threw my poles down. Thankfully, the Lord kept my mouth closed and I just focused on getting to her and helping her up. She was trying so hard not to cry. The poor man was horrified. He apologized profusely. He stayed to make sure she was able to get up, and then skied near us for a few minutes. Rebekah told him she was okay and then we made sure he wasn't hurt. I was so proud of her. I knew how hard it was for her to stay calm. I knew how frustrated she was. But she got up and made the very best of it. 

My little girl is growing up.

We made it down and found Kregg and the other kids. I cannot fully express the relief that flooded my heart. Rebekah had stepped away for a moment, and so I was trying to explain to Caleb what had happened. The floodgates opened. I started crying and couldn't finish. I just kept thanking the Lord for getting us through it.

And once it was over and my heart had settled a little, everything was wonderful again. I was so very thankful. It had been a beautiful day and, even though the last couple of hours were incredibly difficult, I am glad I didn't miss it by being too afraid to try to ski again. It really is like riding a bicycle. 

The girls and I started down the mountain in the suburban, thinking Kregg and the guys were right behind us. They weren't. The truck wouldn't start. :)


Kregg called me and I told him I would find a turn around and head back up to see if we could jump it off. He told me to wait. There "just happened" to be a scenic overlook a little farther down. If the truck had started, I wouldn't have taken time to stop. It was so beautiful! The clouds looked like an ocean among the mountain tops. A few minutes later, and the vista would have been completely obscured in shadow. His blessings are always perfectly timed, aren't they?

The truck started up after several more attempts. It's a diesel and we think it was just too cold. After a shower and a lovely dinner, Kregg and the two girls and I piled into bed, completely tired out. The plan for the next morning was to get up fairly early and head home, because Caleb and Warren would still have what would normally be a 2 1/2 hour drive on to Abilene from our house.

But guess what happened? The truck wouldn't start again. It took us almost an hour to finally get it running. We headed over to pick up the four boys, three of them having slept OUTSIDE!! Their nuts!

While we waited for them to come out, we got to watch several mule deer come up out of a gulch to graze in the yards. They were so beautiful.

I have another budding photographer on my hands. :)

He looks SO much older when he has fur on his face! He will turn twenty in a week and a half! Having spent most of the night outside in a sleeping bag, he took a nap to catch up. There was at least one lane open all the way back, but it was a little scary. Kregg and the rest of the Boy Scouts were about twenty minutes behind us, and between the time we past one spot and the time they did, a minivan had rolled several times.

Caleb and Warren left as soon as possible for Abilene, and it's a good thing because, instead of a 2 1/2 hour drive, it took them more than 4. They saw 20+ accidents in that 150 miles. We were so thankful for them to arrive safely. 


It was a wonderful weekend.

"I Am Standing Upon the Seashore"

Years ago, a friend shared this poem with me. I have read it several times since then and I love the picture it paints of the transition between life here on earth and our true Home. 

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, 'There, she is gone!'

'Gone where?'

Gone from my sight. That is all.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!' there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:

'Here she comes!'

And that is dying.

                                                                    by Henry Scott Holland


There have been so many people we know who have recently been parted with their loved ones. I was just reading a beautiful tribute to a grandmother who went Home and the tears streamed down my face as I thought about the pain that sweet heart is feeling, and remembering my own goodbyes to my grandparents and parents. 


Theologically, I don't know how accurately the poem portrays the reality of things. But I DO know the Joy is real when another saint finishes the race and arrives Home. The actual beauty of that reality is probably so far beyond our understanding that we are not able to comprehend it with our finite perspective.


(There are several "versions" of this poem, some attributed to Van Dyke. I used the one from the book my friend shared with me.)

Ice Sculptures

The Boy Scout Troop our boys are involved with is quite adventurous. They go on a trip each month during the school year. This month's offering was a ski trip. We decided that the girls and I would tag along, too. From our house in flat West Texas, to Ruidoso, New Mexico takes between 4 1/2 and 5 hours. Just a short drive for those of us who live out here and have to drive a ways to get to most anything.


Coming home, we had some weather with which to contend. It began a light snow mixed with a little sleet yesterday morning. The entire way home, we were in the middle of some form of frozen precip. Thankfully, the roads never felt slick, except in a few places.


We had fought the entire way to keep the windshield thawed, with the temperature in the low 20's, but had no idea what was happening to the exterior of the Suburban and truck. Pulling into the garage, I opened the door and looked down. The running board was covered in the strangest ice sculptures.

We had already kicked most of the ice out of the driver's side wheel well when I thought to grab the camera, but it was filled up to the very edge of the tire! I've never seen that happen before.

The ice was only a couple of inches above the surface of the pavement. I can't imagine how it wasn't knocked off.

It almost looked like the sides of the Suburban were covered in feathers. I would have thought they would be facing backwards, in the direction the wind would have been sweeping the sides. In fact, they faced forward! How is that possible? I would LOVE to have seen the physics of this ice forming demonstrated in a wind tunnel. Wouldn't that be interesting?

Blessings in Blogging: A Link-Up in "Pages in Our Heritage of Faith"

In the depths of winter, this flower from my sister's garden several years ago just seemed so cheerful that, even though it has nothing to do with the topic of this post, I chose it anyway to brighten things up.


It's been cold here this week. Now, I know that is a relative term. But when we don't get out of the 40's for a whole day, we get chilled straight through to the bone. We actually had a roaring fire going all day yesterday while we did our schooling. This long season beckons us to slow down, curl up, snuggle in, and contemplate life's big ideas.


As our lives hum along down this path of homeschooling, parenting, grandparenting, trying to help serve in the Body, Kregg's new job, etc., I still come to a dead stand still with my mouth gaping open when I look at all He is doing!


With little time to spare from "the necessaries," the days can pass with only a few moments here and there to "blog." And every time I have asked Him if this season is over, He has answered that it should continue.


It's hard for me to remember that just 2 1/2 years ago, I didn't really even understand what a blog was, much less how one worked. (I'm trying to learn how to "work" a new site that was gifted to me by my sweet Hannah for Christmas. When it's ready, I'll redirect things over there.)


When the Antbed began, my vision was small. I simply wanted to tell funny stories, because our family has such whoppers. :) The vision then could never have prepared me for how He has blessed me through this little page floating around in cyberspace, 550+ posts later.


The Body of Christ is alive and well and so very dynamic. Through the people He has introduced me to at the Antbed, I have been blessed to form relationships with so many precious fellow Believers! I never dreamed He would plant so many of you in my heart! It is a marvel to me how He has orchestrated it all.


I never could have done it. 


I was convicted a while back that I was not to try to "increase readership." (Now, this is for me--it may not apply to your blog.) Instead, I was to just write, respond, and rest in knowing that He would bring whoever He wanted here. It wasn't my job to go find them.


And He has. 


And I am so very grateful for each and everyone of you. The interaction we share in the "comments" section, or via emails, or phone calls is precious to me. You are each His Gift to me. And through you, I learn more and more about His Body. 

Dear Blogging Buddies,
I'm looking forward to reading your testimonies here of the Lord's Faithfulness to you. Write down your stories. Link them here and let others read a "Page in Your Heritage of Faith." Each link is a blessing, filled with encouragement to continue trusting Him with all that we are, all that our hearts carry, all that we hope. He IS Faithful. And we need to faithfully take notes. Otherwise, we forget. We don't want to forget a single thing. Our hearts need to be reminded.

Never A Dull Moment

An old, but still appropriate picture of the four youngest.

That's my motto, and has been for years. When relaying the latest chapter in "You Won't Believe What Happened At Our House or To Our Family," I often sum up the retelling with, "Never a dull moment."


Having this many bodies living in such close proximity, there isn't much margin for error. Add to that the fact that we could be a test facility for the durability of various household products, and you just never know what's going to happen next. It definitely makes things interesting.


Case in point: yesterday


As you already know, we get up and start school early. So by the time lunch rolls around, the kids are ready for a short break. Yesterday, the "break" required an emergency extension. Our second refrigerator, located in the garage, had been yanked open and slammed shut just one time too many. 


The door fell off!


EEEEEEEKKKKKKK!


Josh and Ben, out of purely unselfish motives of service to their family, took on the repair. Of course, it did mean that their remaining schoolwork was temporarily suspended. They toiled tirelessly.


Joshua came in, after a while, to announce the job's successful completion.


But then Ben came saying,"Mom, something's not right about that door. I have to lift it, then shut it."


Joshua stopped, turned around, and went back to the garage.


After further inspection, he came in a few moments later with a sheepish grin on his mug, "We forgot to put the washers back on it."


They had to take it back apart and add washers.


So far, so good. The door is still hanging on.


We finished school, and chores, and dinner, and headed to the church building for our class on Romans. When we arrived home, it was time for the kids to head to bed. I thought everyone was settled in, so I went to my room to put up a load of laundry. 


Then I heard banging in the den. What/Who could it be?


Upon entering, I found Rebekah swinging a towel around. What on earth?! Then I realized that one of her finches was loose and she was trying to shoo it lower so she could catch it. Nothing doing. It eluded capture for quite a while. We thought we had it trapped, at one point, in the game closet. Boy, were we fooled. It escaped the closet and settled on a bookshelf in the hall. Rebekah got so close--she almost had it. At the last possible moment, it escaped into the kitchen/dining/family room. And we had NO idea where it was for a few minutes. Then we heard a little flutter and she saw it beside the refrigerator (the one inside the house whose door was still firmly attached). Stealthily, she inched closer. We all held our breaths, knowing this could go on all night long. It must have been tired, because it finally allowed her to sneak up on it and gently secure it for the return trip to birdie jail.


So much for a nice quiet end to a busy day. 


Each morning, it starts all over again.


After actually sleeping until the alarm went off this morning, instead of awaking an hour ahead and waiting for it to go off, I felt chipper and cheerful to begin a new day. 


Rebekah is not hungry first thing each morning. She would rather get a few school subjects under her belt and await hunger. Along about time for Memory work and Poetry Memorization, she is usually ready to eat. So far, so good.


I looked over at her. She was sitting at the island with her poetry, eating.


Her choice for breakfast this morning?


LEFTOVER, COLD SAUERKRAUT!! 


Oh my.


I have a strong stomach, but that's just not okay.


There was only a small bowl of kraut left (thankfully), and so she followed it with a Cinnamon Chex chaser. 


I'm feeling a tad nauseous. (We say it this way: NAAWSHUS, for emphasis)


I'm thinking it highly unlikely there will be any dull moments today, either.


I believe boredom may be highly underrated. :) 


Just teasin'! Wouldn't have it any other way. 




Hope your day is filled with fun twists and turns. 




After all, we wouldn't want you to get bored.

Those Who Were Willing to Come

Reading through Exodus, something jumped out. After Moses had been to Sinai and received the instructions from the Lord, he cast the vision for the Israelites: They were to be His People; They were to follow His Law; And He would dwell among them in the Tabernacle.


And so they prepared to build His Dwelling Among Them.


The blueprint was specific. The materials list was specific. 


Then in chapter 36, it says this:

"Then Moses summoned Bezalel and Oholiab and every skilled person to whom the Lord had given ability and who was willing to come and do the work."

The craftsmanship was exquisite. Those gifted by the Lord were gifted for His Glory, for His Purpose. But, even though some were gifted for the work, it is implied that there might be some who were not "willing to come and do the work."

Of course, that little phrase provided lots of "food for thought."


Are there gifts He has given us that we aren't willing to use for His Glory?


Perspective makes all the difference.


If those craftsmen, gifted by the Lord, had truly understood what this Tabernacle meant, could anything have kept them away? If they had understood how that Tabernacle would be filled with the Glory, wouldn't they have lingered as long as possible? And their work? Wouldn't it have been carried out with more joy and passion and excellence than they could ever have mustered for any other project?


What about our gifts?


Do we have the perspective for their use that brings Him the most Glory? Do we use them for His Purposes? Do we seek excellence in their use because it's all for Him?


How can we, as parents with incredible ability to influence, how can we help our children to capture that Vision for their gifts? How can we encourage excellence, not for their glory, but for His? How can we help them have the true perspective on our time here?


Don't we have to have a true perspective ourselves first, before we can pass that vision on to them?

"every skilled person to whom the Lord had given ability and who was willing to come and do the work"

May we be willing. With everything that is in us, may we say, "Yes, Lord. Use us as You see fit."

It's All in the Choice

We emphasize it constantly around here: choices matter.


As agents of "free will," we get to pick.


All day, everyday.


And what we choose says so very much about our heart.


We are struggling with a young heart that has trouble owning choices. The effort is constantly made to try and wiggle out from underneath the responsibility and consequences. Add to that the fact that ingenuity is readily available in "applying a teflon coating to the soul" so that nothing "sticks." There's always an excuse on the tip of that little tongue for everything. It makes the routine that structures our schooldays an enormous challenge. Okay, it's not limited to school. Many days, it goes on from the moment this little cherub awakes until the moment the eyes close in sleep.


And so we continue the prayer that we have prayed for ourselves and all our children for years and years: 


May we desire Truth in the innermost places.


When we embrace Truth, it shines Light into those pesky, dusky little corners of our souls where we may be holding onto a handful of our sin nature. Any of it that we refuse to surrender enables us to continue justifying wrong choices: "I did it because _____________." 


That because is the problem.


If I give myself permission to not choose holiness "because ____________," I've missed the whole point of this journey through sanctification.


If I tell myself, because I'm too tired . . .


Because they didn't ___________, then I won't _____________.


Because I've had a hard day, I'm impatient.


Because she said that, I lost my temper.


Because . . .


Until we refuse to use "because" as a license to misbehave, there really won't be much progress made toward maturation, toward personal holiness.


The choice is ours to make.


All day.


Everyday.


If my obedience to His Standards is dependent on perfect circumstances, or the perfect setting, or the perfect conditions, or perfect responses from others, I have given myself permission to hold onto that dusky little corner that I really want to pretend doesn't exist. 


As "the mom," my complete submission to His Standards of personal holiness are constantly on display for our children. Yes, they are responsible for their choices. But, I am responsible for my influence. And my influence hasn't always been what it should be.


And so the journey continues.


Will my foot be on the accelerator or the brake? Will I choose to avail myself of His Grace that is readily available exactly when I need it, so that I am enabled to choose holiness every time? 

I'm praying so.


For my little cherub an for myself.

If You Use Online Services to Book Hotels, You Should Read This

Breakfast in the hotel the morning after the reservation problem

We learned an important lesson on our recent trip, and I wanted to pass it on so that you won't have to go through the mess we went through. 


We made reservations through an online service (Expedia, this time) for our hotel rooms in Houston the night before we were to board the ship for the cruise. I reserved four rooms, three of them of the same type, the fourth one was different and required a separate transaction on the website. I printed out all the confirmation pages for all the rooms, and took them with me (it's a VERY good thing, too). 


After traveling about 400 miles that day, we were so happy to find the hotel. We piled out of the vehicles and innocently entered the lobby, expecting no problems.


They had the reservations for 3 of the rooms, but the fourth was NOT in their system. Because we had already paid Expedia for it, we couldn't just book another room. And, this is a scary thought, if they had been full, we would have been out of luck--even with a paid reservation from Expedia. The poor lady who was working the front desk began trying to convince Expedia that they had messed up. It ended up taking more than 3 HOURS!!!! She was so frustrated, and so were we. After more than an hour, she finally gave us the keys to the fourth room and told us to go on up and she would continue working on it for us. She's my hero!


The problem was this: 
When you make an online reservation, you receive an itinerary number from Expedia. But on that reservation/confirmation page, there MUST also be a confirmation number from the hotel. If there isn't one, you probably don't have a room. Somehow, every once in a while, the reservation is booked, but not forwarded on to the hotel. 


Much older and wiser now:
The poor lady from the front desk informed us that we should always call the hotel, after making an online reservation, and confirm that they actually received the booking.


One little phone call is all it takes! And, believe us, it is well worth your time to avoid a problem like we experienced. Most of the time, it will work without a hitch. But just in case . . .


I made another reservation tonight. 


The email confirming my itinerary arrived.


It doesn't have a hotel confirmation number!!! EEEEEKKKK!


I've already called, and it should be worked out soon


I just thought you should know. :)

Our Friendly Septic Tank Man: A Link-Up in "Pages in Our Heritage of Faith"

We really "moved up" in the world a few years ago when our neighborhood received city water. Prior to that, we had lived for years with well water. And our well water is so hard, it comes out in the shape of little bricks. So there was much to celebrate when we received a city tap for water. But that was the only hook-up they installed. We are still on a septic system. 


For those of you who don't know what that is, be thankful.


Anyway, because our home was built for a smaller family than ours, our septic system is under constant strain. Which means, we have to kind of "baby" it. We have used the same company to take care of it for years. I don't trust anybody else. Our septic tank man has kept us from having any serious trouble and so I do whatever he tells me to do. If he says, "Double up on the bacteria treatment." I double up on the bacteria treatment. If he says, "Use Angel Soft tissue paper." I won't buy any other kind. If he says, "Do not use bleach or any other harsh cleaners, and do NOT use anything antibacterial." Then you better believe I follow his advice religiously.


At least once a year, he comes to clean everything out. We all stay inside. I try not to think about what they are doing with that giant stainless steel truck in my back yard.


When he's finished, he comes in so I can write him a check and so he can hand me the boxes of bacteria for the upcoming year. Of course, we are usually having school when he comes. During his last visit, he was in quite a talkative mood. He sat down at the school table and began to tell me how blessed our children are to grow up in our home. 


He went on to explain his childhood and how he hadn't been raised in a wholesome family. And because of that, his life was really "off track" for many years. We talked about the Lord and politics and homeschooling and his family. It made me cry. 


We sometimes forget, I think, just how blessed we are. Seeing our home and family through his eyes broke my heart. The heart hunger that had left its scars in his soul were still evident. But instead of being bitter, he was choosing hope. He was choosing to try to live his life better than he had been raised to live it. 


Those days when this job seems never-ending, it can be easy to lose sight of the blessedness of it all. Even though it's hard and long and steep and heavy, his words reminded me of why we have made the choices we've made. Being in our home for those few minutes, he saw the fruit that we can sometimes take for granted.


The Lord renewed my vision, and my heart, through the annual visit of my friendly septic tank man. And I was so blessed!

How has He reminded you of His Faithfulness this week? What has happened this last month that made you say, "Thank You, Lord!" Have you seen growth in your spirit? In the spirit of your child? Has someone told you how you have blessed them? All of it points us back to our Abba Father and what He is doing in our hearts, in our lives, in our homes. Will you tell us about it here? We LOVE to read about what He is doing in and through you! Grab the button, add it to your post, (or not) and link up a page in your heritage of faith. Add another chapter to the book He is dictating by His Faithfulness every moment of every day as we walk this earth.