Remember doing this as a kid? Or as an adult, if you're me. There's nothing like being incredibly thirsty and drinking cold tap water out of the faucet. Scarlett told me the other day that her favorite faucets to drink water from are this side faucet in our kitchen and the one into bathroom. Apparently, they contain the coldest and best tasting water. :)
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Do u see the pasty white face staring back at u? That's me with 52 degree weather flowing through my window in the form of bright light. That's the light I need to lift me out of the dark hole of winter. This bear is ready to come out of the dark cave. Bring on the time change this weekend.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Halee and Austin's English teacher recently assigned them to write their very own story. It was to be short and they could pick and choose any topic.
Halee wrote hers in a matter of a few hours. No internet to aid her. Just inspiration and a keyboard. What came of it is touching...the kind of story that makes you feel loved in a universe where it's easy to feel small. I have been given permission to share it here...
As I walked along the dusty streets of Jerusalem, I came across a man. He was perched on a stool with an easel placed in front of him sturdily in the ground. As I approached I could see a blank canvass, unusually white, placed gently on the easel. Curiosity overwhelmed me. As I neared him, thoughts soared across my brain. Why was he out here in the middle of nowhere? What was there to paint? We were surrounded by miles of nothing but desert. When I finally reached him he was delicately rustling through his paint, as if to find the perfect shade of colorful magic. He began painting. Colorful fluid flowed smoothly from his brush, sweeping back and forth across the white canvass. He made the work look incredibly effortless. I could see the passion in his eyes as he furrowed his brow. I could tell this painting was of great value. If he knew I was watching, I did not know. He had given no note to my existence. “Sorry to bother you,” I stated. But I saw you over here and I was just wondering….what are you painting?” He looked up at me as if he had known I was there the entire time. He had a soft gleam in his eye. “Just wait and see.” He replied. “I know you won’t be disappointed.” And with that he continued his painting. “If you like,” he added, “You can view my other artwork.” “Yes, I would like that very much.” I replied. As he searched for his artwork I found myself feeling like I had seen him before, like I knew him. I didn’t know why. He handed me a book full of portraits, took his seat, and continued on. As I viewed his work I was amazed at how detailed the pictures were. But as I looked closer I noticed the paintings were of the last parts of Jesus Christ’s life. The pictures told a story. I was caught up in a vision. I opened my eyes and found I was in a place unknown to my memory, but in a story I knew all too well. I looked around. I saw a sign reading The Garden of Gethsemane. A man lay before my eyes. Pain filled my heart. I heard the tender words cry from his lips “Father, if thou art willing, remove this cup from me. I thought of all my sins and mistakes; of all the reasons that he was here suffering. If only I had been able to reach out and hold his hand, and cradle him like a mother’s child. Pain and gratitude filled my soul, and I cried like I never had before. I looked up and wiped my eyes, a new scene stood before my eyes. Soldiers in red capes I saw, and Judas sealing the fate of this man with kiss on the cheek. I followed them as the man was hit, and beaten near to death. A crown of thorns placed upon his head. Then on the cross, a desperate plea, ‘’ Father, why hast thou forsaken me?” Then it was finished. I had no words from anything I had seen or heard. Than one last painting, an empty tomb. The sun shone brightly on a man dressed in shining white. A woman stood, one word escaped her lips. “Master!” she cried. I opened my eyes and the vision was done. Again I felt tears forming in my eyes. This time not tears of sorrow, but of joy. I knew where I had seen the artist. I recognized the gleam in his eye. I ran my hands gently over the paintings. I looked up. The man was gone, but the easel still stood in the ground. The painting he had been so enveloped in was finished. It had exquisite detail. It was me, cradled in the arms of the savior.
Monday, February 24, 2014
When we were at church yesterday, the missionaries came up to Grace and noticed she had a very old tattered book of Mormon in her hands. They asked her if she would like a brand new one. Her face lit up and she said yes. They each gave one to Grace and Scarlett.
The first thing she did when she got home, was write her name in it. Several hours later she had lost it, she went from person to person in our family asking if they had seen it. No one had seen it. She came back to me about an hour later, and whispered in my ear "I prayed to heavenly father that I would find my book of Mormon, and I found it on top of the washing machine."
At their request, I will be heading to Walmart today to get some stickers for them to put in their very own book of Mormon.
Grace's testimony is like a little seed, and literally before my eyes I see it sprouting and growing. I feel so blessed to belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I feel even more blessed that Grace recognized, that a simple prayer from a six-year-old, could be answered.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
The rocking chair pictured below is the "hot spot" in our home. The kids claw at each other and rage if it's taken. They love it because it's beside the warm cozy fire. I found sweet Scarlett fast asleep in it. My heart melted looking at this sweet girl fast asleep. How I wish I could keep her young forever.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Sometimes I feel as though I have a kitchen timer set for 2 1/2 years. And that before I know it I'm going to hear the beeping sound saying it is time for Halee to leave. I try not to think about it because if I do I will go a little crazy and get a little depressed. The one thing that makes me a little less sad, is that she is growing up to be such a beautiful independent wonderful lovely person. What mother could possibly complain? And besides, she will always be My halee bug.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
He may be almost fourteen but he will always be my Austin roo. I love hanging out with Austin one on one. He has the ability to come up with the funniest things to say. He totally cracks me up and makes me laugh on a regular basis. Thanks for hanging out with your mama, Austin.