My Father's Daughter

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the books I get to read to my kids at this time of year. I LOVE Christmas books!  Raising Arrows asked for some suggestions so I'm posting mine here~ Humphrey’s First Christmas   is the Christmas story from the viewpoint of a wise man’s camel. Bear Stays up for Christmas  I love the whole Bear series. It doesn’t mention Jesus and there is a small picture of Santa filling stockings but it’s a very sweet book about friends loving and taking care of each other at Christmas. It’s very nice addition to a collection. Mortimer’s Christmas Manger -A mouse tries to kick out the nativity statues to move in to the little stable…until he hears just who this little baby statue is. An Angel Story by Max Lucado. It’s a read aloud or read alone for older kids, over 7 maybe. No pictures. It’s a fictional story about what goes on in the spiritual world between God, the angels and  Satan  as the Christmas story unfolds. It's an excitin

A Thanks for every day in November  ~ red-orange leaves turning yellow ~ time to help a friend ~ my tallest boy leaning into me when he's tired and frustrated instead of pushing me away ~ His grace that gets me through each day ~ forgiveness, and the reminder to forgive others as He forgives me ~ my family, just being together ~ the privilege of being a mother, a teacher, a hugger, a kisser, a helper, a baker, a lego locator and so much more to my amazing boys ~ Mercy...because I so don't get what I deserve ~ perfect fall weather ~ chocolate cake ~I'm so very grateful for lives laid down, for men and women who fight for our freedoms and for the oppressed around the world ~I'm thankful for the tantrums and the bad behavior ~for arguments and hurt feelings ~for headaches and insomnia ~for traffic tickets and money being so tight~I'm thankful because it's all grace. All of it. ~ I'm thankful for hot water to wash dishes and indoor plumbing ~ for hand lotion

I bought some new music this week. My boys were excited to slip the cd into the player. They listened and listened to lyrics that say: We were made to be courageous  We were made to lead the way  We could be the generation That finally breaks the chains...This is our resolution  Our answer to the call  We will love our wives and children  We refuse to let them fall (Courageous) Over and over again they listened, then they began to sing along. Then this: Each one thought that they knew better   But they were different by design   Instead of standing strong together   They let their differences divide...  But it was the rhythm of the dancers   That gave the poets life   It was the spirit of the poets   That gave the soldiers strength to fight   It was the fire of the young ones   It was the wisdom of the old   It was the story of the poor man   That needed to be told   (City on the Hill)                       And this: Nobody knows what we're for  Only what we're agai

For you Eden....sorry to be so quiet.  The words have such trouble coming when I'm feeling this way. It's hard to even describe. I  feel...stuck...and I can't write. That's a problem because putting words on paper is a big part of how I cope. Usually when I have a problem it's the writing, the process of  working through my issue with words, that helps. The writing untangles messes and sets priorities where they should be. But now, it's already been untangled it's been talked through with no resolution. Priorities are not matching up. There's nothing more to work out, except this overwhelming feeling  that it's wrong. I'm stuck.  My heart hurts. I want something I can't have.  This sadness lurks behind every smile and taints the memories I'm making. So this is why I haven't written. I don't ever want to whine or be a complainer or sound ungrateful for what I've been given. So I'm taking  Solomon's  advice and stillin

The thanks I offered up as the summer came to a close and as this homeschooling mama got very busy.... 541. watching the school bus drive by without my kids on it 542. the promise of new beginnings, of fresh starts 543. tickle attacks and the boy giggles that go with them 544. The Black Stallion and how my 8 year old is now in love with horses 545. my kitchen, all freshly painted 546. the new bookshelf my husband put together 547. good friends to help and be helped by 548. Granny Apples 549. Monkey in the Middle 550. chocolate chip cookies 551. whipped cream 552. raisin bread with cinnamon swirls 553. chocolate covered cranberries  554. gooey, warm cinnamon buns on our first day of getting back to lessons 555. my oldest asking to know more about atoms while my youngest begs too just be allowed to play :) 556. learning new things right along with my boys 557. cool fall breezes even though it's still technically summer 558. 4 days at the Bethany beach house, me

Five Minute Friday (posted, again, on Saturday), where we write for 5 minutes with a prompt and no editing. No worries about if it's right. Just letting the words come. Stop over and see Gypsy Mama and write along with us. Go No matter what the prompt was I knew I was going to write about  how I wish I could do this week over. I do. It's all in my head, all I can think about. Ordinary-- how many ordinary treasures did I miss this week? I missed face to face, smiling, laughing, building-up-souls time because I was too preoccupied with checking off schoolwork to do lists and making sure kids got all the math done and complaining about their complaining. I missed just being together. I've been missing the ordinary walks and playground visits, the bike rides and Lego playing... And even more excruciating than what I missed? It's what I inflicted. I was fed up with ordinary bad attitudes and ordinary bad behavior so I threw my bad attitude and my bad behavio

I'm feeling so wrong. This week wasn't very good. This week I wasn't very good. I fell so short of who I set out to be. I reacted instead of loved. I yelled instead of corrected. I didn't build up these little souls trusted to my care. My youngest son said today "I'm the worst kid". That was my fault. I made him feel that way. My words and actions made my son feel not good enough. That moment did it for me though. I sat with him on the couch and told how sorry I was that my words made him feel that way, how much he means to me, and how Jesus helps us be more than just good enough. Those words spoken by my sweet six year old, that brought the word wretch to mind. How much grace does it take to keep me right where I am this minute? How much grace have I offered these little boys? We got "back to school" with a bang this year. Our first year of reporting and I was gonna get it right: schedules, lesson plans, staying on track. But something i

Five minute Friday an hour into Saturday.... In Real Life... Go In real life 6 year olds cry when you tell them to brush their teeth (seriously. In my real life, at least). In real life mamas have tantrums. In real life familiarity can breed contempt. In real life math becomes more about attitude than numbers. In real life the day never goes according to schedule. In real life we don't always get what we want. In real life kids get cancer. In real life I'm not very good at being who I want to be. In real life there there is grace. In real life I have His strength to extend that same grace to others. Stop Now go on over and see The Gypsy Mama to join in.

"Grace; that is what the God-glory is full of. To see the Glory and to name the graces. Retune the impaired senses to sense the spirit, to see the grace" ~Quoting my little perpetual calendar from One Thousand Gifts . Catching up on posting some of my summer graces, God's glory full. 504. for the burn on my arm reminding me it's not easy to be gracious while in pain 505. dirty feet that were busy running in the grass 506. slow summer days of pancake breakfasts and read alouds 507. Colossians 3:12 and finding T he Fitting Room waiting for me in my mailbox today 508. Your patience with me,  509. Marlou 510. Jeremia 511. allowing our family to connect with Your children half way around the world 512. the people of  Somalia  513. God's hand even when we're not sure we can see Him working 514. Compassion International ~people being His hands and feet 515. the graces given, the ones I don't even notice, given every day 516

Time again for Five Minute Friday (that hardly ever gets posted until Saturday). We write with a prompt for five minutes without revisions or second guessing. Just write and let the words come.                                       Rest... GO In a time where the answer to "how are you?" is most often "busy" do we even remember how to rest? We are fast paced multitaskers who don't seem to get any more done than we used to. Yet we are constantly busy. We have countless things in our lives intended to make life "easier": washing machines, dishwashers, microwaves, email, text messaging, frozen foods, subzero refrigerators, convenient stores....But is anything easier? Do we have more time? Do we rest anymore than we used to? Do we rest at all? I want to turn it off, walk away, be simple, make my home a true place of rest. A place to hide from the world, from the relentless day's work, a place of peace. STOP Now head on over to the

It's time again...Five Minute Friday where we write just to write, to let the words go. No revisions or editing. Just the words that come after the prompt. Whole... GO This place is broken. Broken families struggling to make it work, broken dreams forgotten, broken hearts limping along, broken children just barely hanging on, broken economy leaving the rich richer and the poor starving, broken land drying up or cracking open and taking lives. The world, our lives, all fractured into pieces of what it should be. Nothing is whole; nothing is as it should be. I know how that sounds...it sounds horrible and desperate. It sounds like there is no hope and we wonder as we shake our fists to the sky, how could there be God who would let it all happen this way?! But I have to tell you seeing the broken and knowing it's not right, knowing that something is very wrong, is the very way we know He's there. We know about the something more. Our hearts remember th

So, I've been asked, "Why connect online?" Here's my answer..... It's such a common phrase now. "Social Network". We all know what it means. Whether it's Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, Google + (and the list is constantly growing), email groups, chat rooms, blogs....it's everywhere. It's become a defining part of our culture. We all have a whole lot of information about one another then we ever had before. We know what our cousins across the country did this weekend and what our friend across the street had for breakfast. We see pictures of an event as it's still going on. We know international news in seconds. We get all this information as an "alert" in the palm of our hands. It seems so intrusive at times. It seems as though everyone thinks that every thought that crosses his or her mind mind needs to be typed out, posted for the world to see. It seems as though nothing is private anymore. Why? And what is the benefit? Is there

Five Minute Fridays. Writing with a prompt. For five minutes. No revisions. Just write. I never get to it until Saturday. Better late than never? This week's prompt.....FULL GO Live full. Right now. Right here. No matter where that is. Don't wait to get it right. Don't wait for a new week or next year. Right this minute. Make every moment matter. Make every moment full....full of thanks, full of right now. Love full. Give with your heart. Give all you have. Love like crazy. Love fully like you want to be loved. Love from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes. Love those you live with and those you've never met. Love like you mean it. Love all the way. Pray full. Fill your days with prayer. Pray without ceasing. Pray prayers of thanks with eyes wide open. Pray for the hurting. Pray for the sick. Pray for yourself....and then let it go. Be full. Full of peace. Full of hope. Full of smiles and laughter. Full of the grace that is lavished on you every day. Full

492. pajamas to bathing suits to pajamas 493. watching grown nieces and nephews~who are now older than I was when I became a part of this family~make big choices, fall in love, live their own lives 494. my dad and my boys in the pool together 495. noises of kids waking up while I'm busy in the kitchen 496. dinners with my husband 497. time with my mom! catching up 498. full moons 499. beautiful breezes 500. cool summer nights 501. new babies due so soon 502. new babies just hours old 503. at the end of the day knowing he is all I need

465. the image of the invisible God 466. taking turns reading from Colossians 467. yummy cheeseburgers 468. tee-ball in the rain 469. forgiveness (again) 470. bedtime stories from older brothers 471. lots to do and getting most of it done 472. playing at the park until the lightning bugs come out 473. Laughing with my husband 474. wine and ice cream sandwiches 475. thunderstorms 476. scraped knees that feel all better 477. my sister's pain about her sons~knowing all is Grace 478. morning at the movies with all 3 boys 479. lots and lots of swimming 480. watching my oldest glide through the water~swimming so well 481. my youngest swimming a lap and a half~so proud 482. lots of chocolate cake 483. brothers and cousins all playing in the water 484. singing happy birthday to my sister in law 485. reading aloud Stewart Little between 2 boys in my bed 486. tucking in sleepy kids after a busy day 487. back scratches and good night prayers 488. Noah reading to Nathan~it's one of my very

Do we forgive as lavishly as we have been forgiven? How often do we remember the amount of Grace it takes to keep us right with God even just this past hour? If we approached those who wronged us with even a sliver of the Mercy we are shown each day how much would this change our relationships, our lives? Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32 If we can just remember that we're all just doing the best we can, that we all endure some kind of pain, that He's not done with any of us yet, then maybe, just maybe we can be content with less than perfect.

Five Minute Friday (of course it's Saturday though) Write for 5 minutes flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing. Just let the words go. GO Grateful... Gratitude instead of griping. Hands lifted in thanksgiving instead of clenched in in expectation. For all of what is given is gift and so I will give thanks in all of it. I'm grateful for all of it-the good and bad, the beautiful and ugly. I'm grateful for all I've been given and for what I haven't and for this journey. I'm grateful for joy and sorrow and peace and pain. I'm grateful to experience this life and all it brings. I'm grateful for second chances and..third chances....and fourth chances... I'm grateful for the dark because it reminds me just how brilliant the Light is. Gratitude, living in abundance, thanking the Giver, trying to give as I have been given to... STOP Thanks to the gypsy mama for helping me remember how I love to write. Even when it's just five minutes (or in

"Isn't it all Grace, and if it is shouldn't I always have hands lifted in praise?" 430. a deep breath after a really hard day 431. time with family on a beautiful afternoon 432. perfect cannolis 433. cousins playing on the slip and slide 434. swimming with my brother (I really did miss him!) 435. using bad to remind us of the good we've been ignoring 436. remembering priorities 437. cowboy hats and boots~how much fun the boys are having with them 438. kids all dressed up and singing 439. another TEACH year! 440. lots of baseball. 441. dinner and milkshakes 442. a crazy weekend all held together 443. my husband taking care of dead car batteries, surprise baseball games and dinner 444. a movie on the couch 445. tag on the playground 446. hockey in the ally 447. bikes, scooters and tree climbing 448. boys proud of learning to sew 449. the incomplete to-do list, left that way and me smiling about it 450. daddy and his 8 year old with heads under the hood 451. dinner a

"The best love letters are the ones simply breathed and lived and laid down with a life." ( Ann Voskamp ) Isn't this the way our men say they love us? It's the words said by the lives they live. The walking beside. Hands working. Hearts loving, even if they don't say it like we do. To all the daddies who know what it means to love the mama of their babes and just be there, to the fathers who give up self to play and read and love, the men who help little hands fold in prayer and towel dry wet heads, the men who work tirelessly for their family at home: you are heroes. Thank you. Thank you for building, investing and raising up our tomorrows. Thank you just for being you. ~Happy Father's Day

Five Minute Friday (even though I almost never get to it until Saturday). It's writing with a prompt for 5 minutes without edits and revisions. GO Home... When I first saw this prompt I thought I'd write about all the things that make home a good place to be but that's not what's coming now. Home...it is not this place. Not here. I was not created for this world. Neither were you. Sometimes it is so painfully obvious. Other times we forget and get so lost in trying to create that place we long for. We try so hard to create a place of peace but that is because we are made in the image of the peace-maker. We search for beauty everywhere. We try to bring it in, surround ourselves, because the beauty for which we were created is etched into our hearts. We won't ever really find it though, this perfect peace and beauty that sustains, not this side of heaven. So I'll remember this each time the children are at each other's throats, when the house is dirty and

383. for holding on to calm as a patient's mother lashes out 384. reading to a lovely 3 year old and all the smiles it brought him 385. coming home after a hard night 386. my husband taking care of all that needed to be done this weekend 387. babysitting~a house full of kids 388. Nate sitting so still, listening to stories on cd 389. This youngest boy all dressed as Peter Pan 390. big glass of red wine, on the couch being still 391. my eight year old needing extra hugs 392. my six year old as Peter pan (again) before breakfast 393. Reminders of Galatians 5:22-26 394. Noah's hard work on piano 395. smiles after tears 396. His promise to wipe them all away for good 397. my Nathan sighing and saying "I love our house" 398. for the man who stopped to help my sister 399. for time to sit and talk to my friend 400. the privilege of teaching my children 401. my youngest's clingy-ness at bedtime~teaching me patience and to treasure this time 402. all the boys outside takin

Five Minute Friday (even though it's Saturday) where I'm joining Gypsy Mama and all the others writing for 5 minutes with a prompt not worrying if it's right.... When the seasons change.... GO When the seasons change, as flowers bloom, trees are becoming full and as the temperature rises I see God and the work of His hand. I see His renewing power. When the seasons change I embrace my life, what has been given and what has not. As I think of the time there is for every purpose under heaven I thank God for this time. Right where I am is right where He has me and I can rest in that. When the seasons change I'll move with them. I'll be renewed by the rhythm He has set. I'll be reminded of what is to come whether it is a frosty winter where the days are cold or beautiful colored spring where all is new again, I'll go through knowing it is all by His hand. STOP.

Counting to find the bridge connecting me to the miracle. Give thanks and then there is always more than enough. (Paraphrasing my little perpetual calendar f illed with Ann's words, which are referencing the miracle of the loaves and fishes...and every other miracle because eucharisteo always precedes the miracle). 357. sweet questions at bedtime 358. good aunt to nephew talks 359. smiling brown eyes 360. bunnies playing in my yard, eating dandelion; really, what is cuter than this?! 361. Grace for another day 362. yawn from little boys boys who lean into me as I read 363. my 8 year old (finally) begging to read on his own 364. Romans 365. afternoon in the park with friends on the best spring day 366. my tall 8 year old bending low to spend time~lots of time~ with his friend's precious 2 year old sister and loving it! 367. watching this boy from across the park, my heart swelling, smiling 368. children big and small all playing together 369. living our lives without being all

My mind can really be a tangled mess. I can be joyful at the same time I am hurting. I can be humbly grateful and painfully resentful, maybe not simultaneously, but within minutes my mind can take me from one extreme emotion to the other. It's not just the emotions that are tangled either. It's the thoughts and plans; it's the mothering and teaching. It's all the tasks and all the love that are all so intertwined sometimes it can be overwhelming to figure out just what I feel or what needs to be done. So I write. The writing takes the tangle and unwinds it into a linear train of thought. Writing helps me find the way through the maze. It doesn't matter how scattered the words may be, I can only write one word at a time. One letter behind the next. These words turn sentences that give way to paragraphs and suddenly things make a little more sense. Words have always been good friends of mine. Whether they were printed on a page or scratched down by my pen, they have a

Five minute Friday....writing for five minutes with a prompt, without editing, just letting the words go. Deep Breath.... Go. Deep breath and pray. Give thanks. Thanks for ALL that is given. Every moment. Easy and challenging. The beautiful as well as the ugly. Deep breath and begin again. Live in that place of grace that allows us to wake up new every morning, to new sun, dew on the grass, another chance to get it right. Deep breath and forgive yourself. Don't live in that nasty place of "what if I did it better?" Let it go and do it better next time. And if you don't get it that time either. Be grateful for yet one more chance. Deep breath and LIVE. Live loved. Love others like crazy. Live like you mean it. Deep breath and smile. You don't do it enough. None of us do. If we are giving thanks, beginning again, forgiving ourselves and living loved how could we not be smiling more?! STOP. Ok there it is. I'm at work so I get distracted in my five minutes. I

310. shopping with excited boys for their daddy's birthday 311. Noah asking to do his spelling 312. all green lights when we are running late 313. piano teacher giving praise and encouraging words 314. wrapping gifts and making birthday banners 315. licking the icing spatula 316. dinner to celebrate 317. chocolate birthday cake~so yummy 318. giving gifts, making my husband smile 319. big birthday parties with in-laws 320. dancing with women who have become my sisters 321. church on Sunday morning for the 2nd week in a row 322. birthdays and more birthdays 323. my littlest sister being a lovely hostess 234. cousins all playing together~laughing 324. a beautiful day at the zoo 325. quiet time with my boys after a busy loud day 326. a morning to talk with mamas 327. dinner with all 5 of us 328. heavy rains suddenly followed by blue 329. for dentists and all of us with clean healthy teeth 330. baseball game date with just my husband 331. waking up to beautiful sun 332. writing down gi

As Mother's day ended this year all I could think of is why? Why do we set apart these days, arbitrarily as days to honor, be honored. It just puts pressure that things are supposed to be just so. But, see, things are never just so. Life is in the mess and mothering is in the tears. It's loving through the tantrum. It's having patience through the misbehavior. It's not feeling slighted because the 8 year old won't come to breakfast, but it's smiling when he finally decides to emerge from his room, tear stained face and all. The day didn't go as planned. There was all kinds of conflict. But that's ok. Hurt is where mothering shines. And this so reminds me what Paul tells us God says to him in 2 Corinthians...that His strength is made perfect in weakness . My strength or patience so pale in comparison to His (or even MANY other mamas I know) but if there isn't a need for our quiet love and gentle hand then what is the use? What would my purpose he

Mothers, all you women with your soul shaping hands, being the gentle arms in the middle of the night, or the listening ear on the other end of the phone, the work you do is precious, it's eternal. As you bend low or stand on tip toes to hug and meet your babes where they are, remember how you are changing the world. Giving up time and space and a clean house so you are there make the meals, wipe the tears and play the games, this is what feeds the spirit. You work with the Creator to grow small people into tall ones, babes into men, little girls into women. All you do that seems to go so unnoticed, isn't ~ the bandaids and story telling, the cleaning of their messes, the work that never ends.... To the mothers who do it alone, to the fathers who must be mothers too, to the woman with empty arms that long to be filled and the mamas whose empty arms ache for the babes they've once held....He is near. Lean in. Lean in and know that He sees your struggle, your sacrifice and H

Five minute Friday....Five minutes of writing on topic with no planning or editing or revisions. hosted by The Gypsy Mama ...Here goes Motherhood should come with... A warning about how your heart will never be the same The knowledge that you will grow much more than they A way to s l o w time A superhuman ability to fore go sleep, food and time for yourself...oh wait it already does :) Roller skates Really good mama friends STOP Ok so that was the first five minute Friday. (Even though technically it's Saturday, after midnight). I'm late but it's my first one.

Giving the gifts names, telling how He loves so I can remember to live that way. 240. leftover scones and smoothies for breakfast 241. boys trying harder and me noticing it 242. sounds of my oldest boy and his daddy hammering nails 243. help from the youngest boy making his favorite meal 244. pretty red wine 245. chocolate cake 246. a movie all to myself 247. candle lit in a house all quiet 248. waking up a sleepy head on a Wednesday morning 240. PLAY! 275. mornings at playgrounds 276. boys jumping and climbing 277. bare toes in the sandbox 278. dinners outside 279. walks through the neighborhood as we talk and laugh 280. this online social community that can be such an answer to prayer 281. sawdust all over Noah~so proud 282. flowering trees 283. spring flowers coloring front lawns 284. pouring rain~loud 285. boys excited about cowboy boots and hats 286. my 6 year old's handwriting, so neat 287. tall eight year old on daddy's lap 288. all of us watching baseball, eating ice c

Rain falls. Storms set in. Winds rage. Shadows are cast. Darkness comes, sometimes it lasts for years. This world just seems to be breaking at the seams. The earth shakes, the ocean turns violent, the winds are vengeful. The storms and their aftermath seem... unfathomable. Yet there they are on the screen, reported on the news, just a click away. This past week it was a whole lot closer than tsunamis and earthquakes. It's a friend of friend or cousins or an uncle, a grandparent or children grown and on their own; It's their damaged homes and neighborhoods, towns torn apart and lives broken. It's just so hard to reconcile all this pain. And even harder because there has been just so much of it lately. This world is broken, failing, coming slowly undone. Sin does that. It destroys. Some times subtle and slow, sometimes so forthright and quick that we almost never saw it coming. I read a blog post by Ann (author of One Thousand Gifts). She shares what her young daughter say

The title is taken from a Casting Crowns song, Glorious Day ...."Living, He loved me. Dying, He saved me. Buried, He carried my sins far away. Rising He justified, freely forever. One day He's coming. Oh Glorious Day". This is what my kids and I hummed and sang to ourselves and eachother all day today. Today. Good Friday. I often struggle with finding ways to make this time as set aside and as special as Christmas. It just never seems to be. I tried this year. We counted our gifts and talked and talked about what He did on that cross, the separation from His Father, bearing that so we never have to. God loving us enough to become us, to be with us. Immanuel. Maybe my timing was the first place I went wrong. Good Friday isn't really significant. There is no historical way Jesus (Yeshua) died on a Friday. Catholic tradition says so, but that certainly doesn't make it true. Even my 8 year old was quick to point at that Friday afternoon to before dawn Sunday morning

195. families healed 196. seven year olds with weights lifted 197. a place to leave my kids~trustworthy friends 198. time off to play together 199. grandparents sharing museum trips at the spur of the moment 200. the unique beauty in His creation... 201. ...even when it's spiders! 202. the nudge in my heart to stay calm and gracious as my 6 year old melts from hunger 203. walks with sons, holding hands 204. listening to stories pointing to His name, in the car as we travel 205. being in bed between 2 boys as they beg for one more page 206. remembering that 6 is still so young 207. for my new sister in law and hearing my brother call her his wife! 208. warm tea on cold rainy days 209. waffles made by my 8 year old 210. boys begging (again) for more chapters 211. kitchen full of groceries and the helping hands (big and little) that got them there 212. older brothers reading to the youngest 213. holding this youngest's hand as he settles in the dark 214. sitting in an almost sile

250. Your presence in this storm 251. hash browns and ketchup and a girlfriend's shoulder 254. seeing anger turn sad 257. a husband who loves me 263. His promise to use all things for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28) 266. seeing my brother and his family: whole 274. FORGIVENESS

I'm struggling to write right now. My gifts I'm keeping on paper when I can manage to focus long enough to move my pen. My crisis pales in comparison to what other's in this world face but I'm heartbroken and afraid of what the future holds. My plan is to just be around the Truth. My hope is that it just seeps in. I'm doubting my doubts. I'm doing the next right thing. I'm so grateful that it isn't me holding on to Him but Him holding on to me. I heard this song for the first time as I was in the car praying for strength. He answers. If we turn down all the noise, we can hear His answer. Dancing in the Minefields By Andrew Peterson I was nineteen, you were twenty-one The year we got engaged Everyone said we were much too young But we did it anyway We bought our rings for forty each From a pawn shop down the road We made our vows and took the leap Now fifteen years ago We went dancing in the minefields We went sailing in the storm And it was harder than w