Beauty Refracted

Sometimes, unexpected joys pop into my life that can be credited to God alone. My friend Gina is one of those joys.

I met her in an unusual way, a way that is unique to our generation. Past generations of women met through their husband’s jobs or as neighbors or maybe through volunteering in the school PTA or church. Gina and I met online.

She and I regularly commented on a photography blog. I thought she was wry and wise, funny and compassionate. I could tell this simply by reading the comments she posted. She intrigued me enough that I went to check out her blog – Namaste by Day – and started getting to know her there. She did likewise on my blog (leaving 223 comments, to date!), and we quickly realized we actually live in the SAME town. How cool is that? Even better, our sons are the same age. We made plans for a play date and got to know each other in person. In Real Life!

But before I ever met Gina in real life, I started inviting her to church with me. She said no because of a hectic schedule and because “I consider myself very spiritual....just a bit reluctant to get into religion.” (Yes, I still have the email!) Fast forward a year and a half, and she finally brought her family to my church. For the last nine months, I have watched a passion for God unfold in Gina’s heart. I read it on her blog as she describes her excitement about getting to church and worshiping. I hear her talk about how God melts her fears. I know, without a doubt, He is pursuing her and her husband in the same way He has pursued me. It has been an amazingly cool thing to watch.

This weekend at church, Gina gave me a beautiful gift. I knew she was working on something because she kept telling me, “I’m making something for you but it isn’t ready!” She posted something on her blog about it too, but gave a dire written warning before I scrolled down to see the surprise. (She later deleted the post because of possible trademark issues.) So I had a slight idea as to what the gift might be, but wasn’t prepared for this:

Gina hand-painted a canvas for me with Proverbs 31:25, “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” In a card Gina included with the gift, she explained why she picked that verse. She said it describes me!

Now hear this: I am NOT tooting my own horn. If anything, I think Gina is off her rocker, but I am honored by her gesture. Just the fact that someone might look at me and see even a tiny flicker of Scripture reflected in my soul is a HUGE honor to me. That is more precious to me than a gift of jewels or even a massage gift certificate! To think that God is visible in my soul? To think that I glorify Him?

THAT is a testament to His love, His presence in my life. And even more? My friend, who once wasn’t so sure about the church thing, is now quoting Scripture to me. God has His hand on us!

“Receiving a gift is like getting a rare gemstone; any way you look at it, you see beauty refracted.” Proverbs 17:8 MSG

State Songs

We have a family road trip coming up. In preparation, I’ve been searching for songs about states. It’s been pretty fun trying to compile the list, and I thought I’d share it with you here. Some of these I found on my own, and some I found online and by reading this list here and here too. There are some I’ve never heard, as they are pretty obscure songs.

Feel free to leave a comment and let me know any I might have forgotten or overlooked.

• Alabama
  • Stars Fell on Alabama (Jimmy Buffett, and others)
  • Sweet Home Alabama (Lynyrd Skynrd)
• Alaska
  • North to Alaska (Johnny Horton)
  • The Alaska Song (Lucy J. Dalton)
• Arizona
  • Arizona (Kings of Leon)
  • Oceanfront Property in Arizona (George Strait)
• Arkansas
  • Mary Queen of Arkansas (Bruce Springsteen)
  • Little Rock (Reba McEntire)
  • Little Rock (Collin Raye)
• California
  • California Dreaming (Mamas & Papas)
  • California Girls (Beach Boys)
• Colorado
  • Rocky Mountain High (John Denver)
  • Colorado Girl (Townes van Zandt)
• Connecticut
  • I Live in Connecticut (Aerosmith)
• Delaware
  • Delaware (Perry Como)
• Florida
  • Florida (Vic Chesnutt)
  • Seminole Wind (John Anderson)
• Georgia
  • Georgia on My Mind (Ray Charles or Willie Nelson)
  • Dixie Land (Elvis)
  • Midnight Train to Georgia (Indigo Girls)
  • Georgia Peaches (Lynyrd Skynrd)
  • Chattahoochee (Alan Jackson)
  • Who Wouldn’t Wanna Be Me (Keith Urban)
• Hawaii
  • Blue Hawaii (Elvis)
• Idaho
  • Idaho (Josh Ritter)
• Illinois
  • Sweet Home Chicago (Blues Brothers)
  • Chicago (Frank Sinatra)
  • Casimir Pulaski Day (Sufjan Stevens)
• Indiana
  • Gary, Indiana (from The Music Man)
  • Back Home Again in Indiana (Louis Armstrong)
• Iowa
  • Iowa Stubborn (from The Music Man)
• Kansas
  • Kansas City (from Oklahoma!)
  • Wichita Lineman (Glenn Campbell)
• Kentucky
  • Kentucky Rain (Elvis)
  • My Old Kentucky Home (Three Dog Night)
  • Blue Moon of Kentucky (Elvis & others)
  • Kentucky (Edwin McCain)
  • Man of Constant Sorrow
• Louisiana
  • Johnny B Goode (Chuck Berry)
  • Louisiana (Willie Nelson, The Walkmen)
• Maine
  • Going to Maine (Mountain Goats)
• Maryland
  • The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll (Bob Dylan)
• Massachusetts
  • Massachusetts (Bee Gees)
  • Rock and Roll Band by Boston
• Michigan
  • Dancing in the Street (Martha and the Vandellas)
• Minnesota
  • Stuck Between Stations (The Hold Steady)
• Mississippi
  • Cross Road Blues (Robert Johnson)
• Missouri
  • Missing Missouri (Sara Evans)
  • Missouri (Low)
  • Missouri Waltz
• Montana
  • Montana (Frank Zappa)
• Nebraska
  • Nebraska (Bruce Springsteen)
• Nevada
  • Viva Las Vegas (Elvis)
  • Waking Up in Vegas (Katy Perry)
  • Pretty Vegas (INXS)
• New Hampshire
  • New Hampshire (Sonic Youth)
• New Jersey
  • Jersey Girl (Tom Waits)
• New Mexico
  • New Mexico (Johnny Cash)
• New York
  • New York New York (Frank Sinatra)
  • Empire State of Mind (Alicia Keys)
  • New York Minute (Don Henley)
  • New York State of Mind (Billy Joel)
• North Carolina
  • Carolina in My Mind (James Taylor)
• North Dakota
  • North Dakota (Lyle Lovett)
• Ohio
  • Ohio (Modest Mouse)
  • Ohio Come Back to Texas (Bowling for Soup)
• Oklahoma
  • Oklahoma (from Oklahoma!)
  • Oklahoma Hills (Woody Guthrie)
  • Oklahoma-Texas Line (Rascal Flatts)
• Oregon
  • Portland, Oregon (Loretta Lynn)
• Pennsylvania
  • The Weight (The Band)
• Rhode Island
  • Rhode Island is Famous for You (Blossom Dearie)
• South Carolina
  • From South Carolina (Her Space Holiday)
• South Dakota
  • South Dakota Morning (Bee Gees)
• Tennessee
  • Tennessee (Arrested Development)
  • Rocky Top (Lynn Anderson and others)
  • Graceland (Paul Simon)
• Texas
  • Deep in the Heart of Texas (Gene Autry and others)
  • Yellow Rose of Texas (various)
  • Headin for the Texas Border (Flamin Groovies)
  • All My Exes Live in Texas (George Strait)
  • Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (from the musical)
• Utah
  • History of Utah (Camper Van Beethoven)
• Vermont
  • Moonlight in Vermont (Margaret Whiting)
  • Long Vermont Roads (Magnetic Fields)
• Virginia
  • Carry Me Back to Old Virginny (various)
  • East Virginia Blues (The Stanley Brothers)
• Washington
  • Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle (Nirvana)
• West Virginia
  • Take Me Home Country Roads (John Denver)
  • This Protector (The White Stripes)
• Wisconsin
  • Milwaukee Here I Come (John Prine)
• Wyoming
  • Song of Wyoming (John Denver)

 

• MISCELLANEOUS
  • Everywhere (Tim McGraw)

Gellac Nails

I have a thing for nice nails. I’m pretty sure it comes from watching my mom sit in front of the TV at night, filing and shaping her nails. I remember falling asleep with my head on her lap while she watched the Atlanta Braves game on TV. Her body would rock as the file moved back and forth across her nails. She wasn’t much for primping, but she always kept her nails in good shape.

I like to keep my nails filed, and polished when possible. So I have a new favorite thing to share. Have you heard of gel nail polish, or shellac? Creative Nail Designs makes the gel polish. OPI makes the shellac.

It’s only available at nail salons. The nail technician applies a clear base coat on my own nails (not acrylics), then sets it with a UV lamp. Then she applies the first of two color coats, setting them each with the UV lamp. Then there’s a final top coat, followed by the lamp. The last step is to rub your nails with plain alcohol to make them shine.

After the rubbing is done, I sit there in amazement and touch my nails and even scratch them. Wonder of all wonders, there isn’t one little dent or ding even though the nails were *just* polished. It’s a weird thing, after spending years of my life having to wait a LONG time after the manicure to make sure the polish isn’t ruined.

But that isn’t even the BEST part! The best part is the polish lasts for at least three weeks AND makes my nails strong with zero chipping. It would last longer if my nails didn’t grow so fast and have space between the polish and my cuticles. Here’s how my nails looked after three weeks:

If I had chosen a color that contrasts more with my skin color, I don’t think I could have worn it for three weeks. The growth would be too obvious.

The second time I had this nail polish applied, I went with the French manicure. Here’s how it looked after a week and a half. (Disregard my ragged cuticles and cuts, please. Focus on the polish, y’all!)

I think I like the color polish better. French is nice, but it’s too perfect and makes me look like a salon rat; as if I am a high maintenance woman who gets her nails done weekly. Which isn’t true. Usually I do my nails myself at home with those nail strips I love so much. Lupus makes the skin on my cuticles very thick and tough, and it hurts badly to push them back. I don’t like a nail technician doing this for me, so I do it at home myself. Besides, this gel/shellac manicure is twice as expensive as a regular manicure - $30 as opposed to $15.

But for a special occasion or a nice treat, I’m definitely going back!

It’s Uncanny

Retro Video Games

They say history repeats itself. This photo is proof:

It’s Jackson and his sister, playing their Game Boys from 1989.

I wish I had a photo from 1989 to show the first Jackson and his sister playing these exact same video games. My parents gave them to us for Christmas that year. I was 15 years old, and Jackson was 19. We weren’t quite into handheld video games back then (although we did love our Atari, of course). We were a little old for the Game Boys, but it was the trend that Christmas and Mom wanted to buy them for us. We ended up having a blast with them.

I saved them in a box for years, then came across them recently. Miraculously, they still work! I gave them to my kids, and they beg to play them as much as they beg to play with my iTouch. Our house rule states they cannot play with them unless we are at a restaurant (when we go with friends and the adults want to chat) or waiting at a doctor’s office. They can also earn the privilege of playing when they fill up their marble jars.

In preparation for an upcoming long car ride, we visited Slacker’s and found a treasure trove of game cartridges that will work in my dinosaur Game Boys. Woo hoo! The kids were beside themselves, bouncing with excitement to pick out new games. We bought two (Super Mario 2 and Pac Man), and it’s like Christmas morning in the middle of July!

Girls’ Night Out

Last Friday, Katie and I went to St. Louis’ outdoor theater to see The Little Mermaid with her Brownie troop. It was Katie’s second time at The Muny, but my first with her. We made a whole night of it.

Before The Muny, we had dinner at Blueberry Hill. It’s a restaurant owned by Chuck Berry, on the Loop in University City.

Katie was thrilled to see a jukebox, and we browsed through the songs for a while. She narrowed it down to two choices, then Aerosmith’s Dream On was chosen over Bob Marley’s No Woman No Cry. (And can I just say how happy it makes me to type that sentence? I think it’s pretty cool that my kids know the Imagination Movers as well as they know classic rock.)

There was a photo booth, which we enjoyed together!

We left the Loop and drove on to Forest Park. I begged asked Katie to let me take her eight-year-old photos, so we took some time before the show started at The Muny. Isn’t she lovely?

We got to The Muny and it was actually a nice night for an outdoor show! We enjoyed the music and acting, then headed home. Katie was in bed a smidge before midnight (yikes!), and our Girls’ Night Out was a success.

My One Original Idea

I’ve had one original idea in my lifetime; one idea that is solely mine and I know for a fact didn’t come from anywhere else but my little brain.
You can read about it at JC’s Loft today, where I am guest posting.
Anyone else have something original to share?
{Update: The JC's Loft blog was closed and the link no longer works. If you would like instructions, leave a comment and your email address and I'll be in contact. I'm sorry for any confusion!}

Pancake the Squirrel: a Guest Post by Katie

We have a pet! It isn’t an ordinary pet. It’s a squirrel!

He lives in our back yard. We named him Pancake because he lays flat on our patio. He also lays on the base of our tree house.

He is the best pet because he is very silly laying on the ground.

There is another squirrel who lives in the tree above our tree house. We think that is Pancake’s girlfriend!

I Can’t Forget Her

Dan and I met friends at a restaurant yesterday. I went to the bathroom and was finishing up in the stall when I heard it: gagging and vomiting, coming from the stall next to mine.

Since we were at a restaurant attached to a brewery, my first thought was, “Some poor girl had too much to drink.” I wanted to make sure she was okay, so I took my time finishing in the stall and washing my hands. As I stood at the sink, she came out of her stall. She was young, maybe in her early twenties, wearing a white skirt and a black top. She was very pretty. I looked directly in her eyes. She was not drunk. With the loud noise of the hand dryer to cover me (there were others in the restroom who came in after she vomited), I pointedly said, “Are you okay?” She said, “Yeah.” She washed her hands and we both stood there waiting for the girl at the hand dryer to finish.

Once more, I locked eyes with the woman and it hit me: she was bulimic. I was stunned at the realization in my head, and could barely get my mind wrapped around it. I looked at her once more, dried my hands, then grabbed a tissue as a way to stall for time again. She finished drying her hands, walked to the door, and I followed her. She veered left and I veered right, and that was the last I saw of her.

I joined Dan and our friends at the table, told them what happened, and rejoined the conversation. But I couldn’t relax; the merriment of the day had vanished from my heart. I felt a tremendous pull to go find the girl. This is the conversation I had in my head: “Go find her!” “And do what?!” “Just find her! Tell her she’s beautiful. And loved. And worth more than that.” “And then she’ll think I’m crazy, and what do I know about her life?” “What if she does? Go find her!” “I don’t want to meddle. What if she’s sitting with friends who don’t know anything about this?” “Then tap her on the shoulder and ask her to step aside with you. Or take her a note. Just go find her!”

So I got up from the table again, mid-conversation. I walked through the restaurant and tried to find her. There was a reception in the back room, and I tried to peek in the doors without looking obvious. I didn’t see her on my first scan. I walked away and went through the bar area, then went back to the reception and lingered a little longer at the doors. I still couldn’t find her. I literally had to restrain myself from barging in the room and trying to find this woman. I knew I had to walk away, so I did. And I carried that woman to God’s arms, pleading that He would find some other way to reach her.

I can’t stop thinking about her. This morning in church, I saw her face in my mind again. I replayed the scene over and over, wishing I had a second chance so I could say what I was too stunned to say in the bathroom: You are beautiful. You don’t need to do that. And maybe? Just maybe, I might even say something about God’s grace and love and how she is worthy and priceless.

I am not what you would consider an evangelistic person. I was raised to believe that your faith is a personal thing you didn’t really share with others. It was okay to talk about it, of course, but mainly with people you already knew were believers too. So for me to talk to a total – and hurting – stranger about God’s love? Oooo, my pulse quickens because that idea is SO FAR out of my comfort zone.

BUT… I know that woman needed to hear it. I know I needed to say it, and I’m being prepared to get out of my comfort zone and start saying it more.

So I am praying for her. I am trying to let go of her and put her in God’s hands. I’m also praying for myself.

God, please give me another chance to share your love with others. I am boldly asking: put someone in my path who needs you! Let your Spirit fill my mouth with the words they need to hear. Let me be unafraid to speak your truths, and help me do it gently and with humility. I want to obey your nudges and open my ears to your whispers. And dear God, please don’t let me screw it up. Amen.

“One person standing on the Rock can throw a lifeline to others drowning in the sea.” Francine Rivers, Atonement Child

Mom’s Photo Albums

I’ve spent the past 18 days looking through a magnifying glass at the last 48 years of my family’s life.

I bought a Groupon that will allow me to have 1,000 photos scanned and turned into digital files. I jumped at the chance, because I am the *lucky* inheritor who received all these albums when Mom died.

Mary and I decided I would take the albums and eventually scan the photos into the computer. Um, yeah. Mom’s been dead almost seven years and I’ve scanned about 30 photos. So having someone else do it for me (and at a discount!) was a blessing…

AND a curse.

Going through my parents’ lives from 1963 to 2003 has been way more upsetting than I expected. Looking at their early years in the albums, it was cute and quaint to see ways their newlywed years mirrored my own newlywed years. Nostalgia set in for the years when babies arrived and grew, and turned into awkward adolescents who hadn’t yet grown into their teeth. (Ahem.)

But once I hit my brother’s high school years, anger began to simmer a bit until it boiled over into, well, pissed off. It makes me mad to see the letters my brother received after his appointment to West Point, and to read all the hope so many people lavished on him. Because now? I have the unwanted hindsight to know he would be dead in eight years.

And that just PLAIN SUCKS. There is no other way to say it.

I look at these photos of graduation parties, weddings, trips to West Point, football games, and holidays. I see smiles and joy. For all anyone knew, our family was perfect and idyllic. Who wouldn’t want to be a Steele? And yet, I knew the dark underbelly of a marriage that had unraveled years before. I was the last of three kids at home and had a front row seat as my parents’ marriage took its last gasping breaths before it, too, died.

In these 1990s photos, we had no idea we were hurtling toward complete destruction. I see images of my high school graduation, and – with hindsight – realize it wasn’t JUST a young girl looking into a bright future. It was the last hurdle before the finish line of my family’s marathon – a marathon that ended badly with a DNF.

This photo is what does me in.

My parents are hugging my brother after his graduation from West Point. At first, I tear up because I imagine the pride my parents felt at their son’s accomplishments. Then the tears prick my eyes a little deeper as I realize that they lost him. They buried their son. How does a parent DO that?!

And then, I look at the photo and get a little glimpse into heaven. Because, to me, this is what I imagine heaven was like on the day three-fifths of my family reunited. Dad must have buried his face in his son’s cheek, while Mom’s arms were finally full again. And at the same time, Jackson welcomed them home with joy. And strength. And love. Most of all, with hope restored. Because this photo shows truth, not some pasted-on smile that comes from years of protecting the underbelly. This photo shows culmination and redemption and unconditional joy.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have walked over to them and wrapped my arms around them and never let go. And one day, I will.

You Say “Potato,” I Say “Gross!”

Everyone knows that washing your hands is the best way to fight diseases. Ever since Katie was old enough to walk, I started a habit for our whole family. As soon as we enter the door, we do two things before anything else: 1) remove shoes, and 2) wash hands!

Sometimes, the kids grumble about it a bit, but I’m a stickler. They aren’t allowed to enter the rest of the house unless hands have been washed. I’ve been known to force request other kids who are visiting our house to do it too.

A while back, I read about this experiment that will show kids why hand washing is imperative. I wanted to share the results on my blog so y’all would see how disgusting our hands get.

Katie came home from school one day and I wouldn’t let her wash her hands. We followed the experiment instructions and peeled then boiled the potatoes. Once they cooled, one went into a jar without any touching. Another was handled and groped by both Jackson and Katie, then sealed in a jar. The kids washed their hands well, then handled the third potato before it was sealed in the last jar. Here’s how they looked after the first day:

About ten days later, this was the result:

Ewww! I can hardly stand to look at that! The untouched potato was slimy and unappetizing simply due to being an unrefrigerated potato for 10 days. But the dirty-hands-potato is DISGUSTING. Brown and green mold erupted all over. The clean-hands-potato isn’t perfection, of course. It has a nice coating of white fluffy mold, but I think that’s from being sealed in a jar too.

The moral of the story is WASH YOUR HANDS!

Wow

This past weekend is permanently etched in the granite of my soul. Katie turned eight. We celebrated with friends and family for two days. Then we celebrated Dan on Father’s Day.

And then? To top it all off, we rejoiced that two prodigals have come Home.

First, Dan was baptized.

Then our daughter, Katie. Our world is cynical and jaded when it comes to religion. But seeing the excitement and joy she has for Jesus (notice I didn’t say “religion”) lights a new flame of hope in my heart. After watching Dan’s baptism, I didn’t think my smile could get any bigger. But this photo proves me wrong!

I haven’t written much about it on my blog because I am respecting Dan’s privacy and his tendency to keep his emotions tucked in his heart. (The poor man tolerates my blog so well!) I will try not to embarrass him, but I have to expound a little bit on his journey.

I have been a witness to a transformation – a melting – so profound it is nothing less than a miracle. The love of my life has decided to follow the Love of my life. If you ever doubt the power of God’s presence, the redeeming love of Jesus, or the light of the Holy Spirit, bookmark this blog post and come back to look at this photo often.

I speak the truth: God is real. He is holy, worthy of adoration, alive, shockingly loving, and the BEST giver. (If you want more details on the story, I’d be happy to share them privately.)

To God be the glory. Thank you, Jesus, for the way you love us. Amen!

On Katie’s Eighth Birthday

Dear Katie,

I feel like I should be saying goodbye to the baby/toddler/little girl version of you, and hello to this all-of-a-sudden grown up kid who has appeared in our lives. I spent many days of your life doubting that we would *ever* make it to this point, because it seemed your growth was taking an excruciatingly slow amount of time. In my mind, if time was going any slower, it would have been going backward.

And now, look at you. I won’t say the dreaded, “They grow up SO fast” cliche that I abhor… but I will say your changes have astounded me. You are a living, breathing contradiction. One moment, you have the poise and elegance that hints at your life as a young lady and – one day – an adult woman. A few blinks later, you resort to the sulking and pouting that transports me back to the Terrible Twos.

Eight is such a contrary age to be!

I am surprised at how your experiences are starting to mirror my own childhood. As I tend to you, I am starting to recover my own memories. This morning, I was brushing your hair and (for the hundredth time) flashed back to when my mom used to brush my hair over breakfast. But this was a different flashback. In that instant, my mother was alive again for me. Your presence connects me to my past in a way I never imagined would happen.

Here’s the thing about eight and memories: I remember being eight, which means you’ll remember things you’re experiencing now too. That’s cool to think you might remember your first summer camp trip, or how your teacher had a habit of laughing out loud at herself. But the idea of you remembering makes me cringe too, because I know this means you’ll remember the hurts your heart might feel or the mistakes we make as parents. You’re going to remember LIFE now, which is scary and exhilarating at the same time.

Despite all my faults and failures (every mother has them, you know; you will too one day, God willing), I hope you remember this above all else: I love you. There is nothing more profound or more simple that I can say to you. I love you in the most broken, imperfect, passionate, adoring way that I know how. Look hard enough and you will find fault and plenty of ways I could love you better, but it’s the best offering I have to give you.

I love being your mommy. I love watching you evolve into the treasured soul God designed you to be. I have no idea how that masterpiece is going to turn out, but I DO know it is breathtakingly beautiful to watch the creation take place.

Happy birthday, sweet Katie. I love you!

Mommy

June 14

I have loved you with an everlasting Love. Before time began, I knew you. For years you swam around in a sea of meaninglessness, searching for Love, hoping for hope. All that time I was pursuing you, aching to embrace you in My compassionate arms.

When time was right, I revealed Myself to you. I lifted you out of that sea of despair and set you down on a firm foundation. Sometimes you felt naked – exposed to the revealing Light of My Presence. I wrapped an ermine robe around you: My robe of righteousness. I sang you a Love song, whose beginning and end are veiled in eternity. I infused meaning into your mind and harmony into your heart. Join Me in singing My song. Together we will draw others out of darkness into My marvelous Light.

Jeremiah 31:3; Isaiah 61:10; 1 Peter 2:9

[This is the June 14 devotion from Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.]

Efficient and Organized

I have often been accused of being anal retentive and Type A. If the shoe fits… I am not embarrassed to wear it!
Click here to check out JC’s Loft today and find out what tool I use to stay organized and efficient when I go grocery shopping.
{Update: The JC's Loft blog was closed and the link no longer works. If you would like instructions, leave a comment and your email address and I'll be in contact. I'm sorry for any confusion!}

The Scooter of Life

Jackson and I decided to do two errands on foot today. After Katie left for Girl Scout day camp, Jackson and I left the house; me on foot, Jackson on his scooter. Our first stop was the Post Office. Our second stop was Walmart.

I was hypervigilant while we walked to our destinations. I taught Jackson how to stop at crossings and look left and right, then proceed through the intersection (or across a driveway) by walking his scooter instead of riding it. There were a few points where he tired and I carried his scooter while we held hands and walked. At the start of our walk, there was a bit more frustration on both our parts as he learned STOP! really means stop. But as we neared home at the end of our walk, we were both enjoying ourselves. Jackson trusted my guidance, stopping when I asked him and waiting for me to catch up to him so we could move forward together.

We arrived home, ate lunch, and Jackson settled in for naptime. I started my daily devotion time, and here’s what I read in Jesus Calling: “As you gaze anxiously into the distance, you don’t even feel the strong grip of My hand holding yours. How foolish you are, My child!”

Walking with Jesus is just like my walk with Jackson. My son rode his scooter with his eyes on the next corner or the next glide downhill, never looking at his immediate surroundings to watch for cars or potholes that could wreck his scooter. His gaze was in the distance, his focus on the thrill of zooming faster and faster. Jackson was just being the foolish child he was created to be. My presence was barely a blip on his radar screen.

How many times do I ride the Scooter of Life without a second thought to Who is holding my hand or Who is plotting my course?

Thank you, Jesus, for steering me through danger and safety. Thank you for letting me simply enjoy the scooter ride, exploring the world safe in the knowledge that You are looking out for me. Open my eyes to sense your presence, and my ears so I can better hear your warnings AND encouragements. Amen.

Wordless Wednesday – What Friendship Looks Like

Wordless Wednesday

Holy Yoga Eye Pillows

My friend Jill is starting a new journey in her life. She is being trained as a Holy Yoga instructor. I am not a yoga lover, but she talked me into taking a Holy Yoga class with one of her friends who is already a trained instructor. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected, and I liked the Christ-centered approach to yoga.

At the end of class, there was some meditation/prayer time. Jill’s friend passed out lavender-scented cloths for each participant to use to cover her eyes during meditation. Later, Jill was brainstorming some ideas for these cloths with me, and asked if I could think of way to make some eye pillows that would be hygienic enough for use in class when she becomes a teacher. This is what I came up with:

I found some cheap, white broadcloth fabric. White fabric is key, so it can be bleached. I cut these into 4.5” x 9” rectangles, then sewed them on three sides. I turned them inside out, filled them with Poly Pellets, and sewed them shut. The finished size is about 3” x 8” after a big seam allowance. (I don’t sew incredibly straight.)

I made a sample pillow first, and threw it in the laundry twice to check how well the pellets hold up in a washing machine. I air-dried it after the wash, and the pillow held up just fine.

These are so easy to make, affordable (I figure about $1.20 each for materials), bleachable/hygienic, scent-able (I think she can spritz aromatherapy scents on the outside), and I think they will be a beautiful tool during Holy Yoga prayer time.

Summer Fun Cupcake Decorating Kit

Tomorrow is Katie’s last day of second grade. Today is the class party; my last visit to her class for the year. Katie already delivered one gift to her teacher a few days ago - these hand sanitizers.

I also make Katie’s teachers the same gift every year: a special movie. Every time I volunteer in class, I take photos of the kids and the teacher. Then at the end of the year, I set the photos to music and give the teacher a copy as a memento of her year. This serves a dual purpose: Katie now has a collection of movies too. Each year, the class watches the movie at the end of year party, and the kids enjoy seeing a recap of their year. This year, one of the parents graciously donated 20 blank DVDs for me to burn enough copies for every kid in the class to have one.

Besides the movie, I wanted something special to take to the teacher today when I go to the class party. I saw a cute cupcake decorating kit on Pinterest last week. (LOVE that site, by the way! Thanks, Michelle!) I can’t find the original link to it, so I can’t link to it here. But I took the idea and ran with it, buying some cute items at Joann’s last night.

I found a transparent paint can for $3.50. I found a mix of cupcake liners and picks, spending about $7 for 200 of them. A jar of red glitter sprinkles was on sale for $1.71, and I found a pack of foam cupcake stickers for $1. That brings my total for this teacher gift to $13.21. I added my own ribbon and tag that says “Summer Fun Cupcake Decorating Kit.”

I can’t wait to give it to the teacher and wish her a relaxing summer!

Wordless Wednesday – Sprinkler Fun

Wordless Wednesday