Listen to Harold!!

Today I picked up my nieces and brought them to spend the night with us. It has been some time since we've done this, and I figured since it was still vacation from school, timing was right.

Madison loves to help me in the kitchen. She wanted to cook the spaghetti tonight, but instead she sat on the kitchen counter and kept me company. We let the kids sit at the table tonight and hang out. Ryan and I sat back on the couch eating our dinner. We chatted, but I mostly ease-dropped on the children. There was a "Praise Baby" video on while we ate. This one had Christmas music. The song "Hark! The Harold Angels Sing" was on and apparently the kids were listening to it. This is what I heard:

Jeannie: Uncle Ryan, what does "hark" mean?

Uncle Ryan: It means "listen".

Jeannie: Oh. What does "Harold" mean?

Nathan: That's the name of the angel. You know, "Listen! Harold the angel is singing".

BAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I couldn't stop laughing!! I'm looking at Nathan, and he is totally serious about his explanation. He thinks he's got it all figured out. What a riot!!! I'm so glad the girls came over tonight. We would have missed out on Nathan's sense of humor!

Banana Bread

We're taking a trip tomorrow to Tallahassee. By the word "trip" one would think this is an enjoyable day on the road. It is not. It is the trip to take Nathan to see his dad for Christmas. Every year, I think I'm going to get used to this. I don't. Every holiday, I think it's going to be easier to pack the bag, load the van, make the drive, say good bye. It is not. Oh yes, so what does this have to do with banana bread?

We'll be getting up very early and heading out on the road at 6 a.m. Too early for me to get everyone up, dressed, AND fed. So tonight, I decided I would make banana bread for breakfast in the morning. Yumm. Ryan is playing with the band tonight, so it was just me and Omi still awake. Why is it that the youngest child always gets to stay up later than the other children? (again, I digress)
Omi was in one of those moods where she just wanted to be held. I really needed to start the bread, because it takes almost an hour to bake and I really wanted to be in bed BEFORE midnight. I picked her up and started to get all the ingredients out. She was very content in my arms, I thought I would hold her a little longer, then she see if she'd play for a bit. Everything set out, mixing bowls ready, oven set. There was going to be no business of putting Omi down. She was in the mood for some baking...

I started my Julia Child role playing; "2 cups of flour, we only use the best flour, none of that bleached nonsense...2 eggs with omega 3, our yummy local honey" And on and on as I added all the ingredients to the bowls. All the while, holding Omi on my left hip. I managed to measure with one hand, crack eggs with one hand, mash bananas with a fork with one hand, and pour honey into a measuring cup...with one hand. She got a kick out of the eggs. It wasn't until the pouring of the honey that she found it the perfect opportunity to reach out and stick her tiny fingers in the gooey goodness. I quickly stuck her fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. I know this method is not the most sanitary, but it is the most tasty. I assure you, if I were making the bread to take to others, I certainly wouldn't have let that happen, but I figured it was part of the experience for us both.
I mixed it all together, even greased the pan with olive oil with one hand. Pouring the batter into the pan was probably the easiest part, shocked even myself. As I set the timer, the bread began to bake, I was impressed that I made homemade bread holding my little lamb.

This probably isn't something to provoke too many people to excitement, but you don't understand...I've been reading these books lately (Created to be His Help Meet, and Passionate Housewives Desperate for God to name only two) and these women are heroins when it comes to running the home. Impressed? These women have 5 or more children, homeschool, run businesses out of their homes, make clothes (and sell them), write books, are well traveled, volunteer with the community, run full time ministries, counsel ladies, are their husband's secretary, are raising well-mannered, respectable children, and on and on. So me baking some bread is far from achieving something of value. I will never be like these women, I will never run my home like they do, I may never travel like they did, run a home business, write a book. I don't have to. I can bake bread with my daughters. As I was rinsing dishes (with one hand), I was thinking about these women; they spend ample time with all their children, they love them just as much as I love my own, they are serving God no better than I am. I didn't feel less than these ladies. I didn't necessarily feel equal to them either. I am me. I am a mother who loves her children, plays with them, pretends with them, teaches them, prays with them, protects them, laughs with them, reads to them, wipes booboos and drippy noses, jumps on the trampoline with them, talks with them, hugs them, cries with them, dances with them, answers the hardest questions when they ask, I cherish them...and bake bread with them. I am their mother. Tonight I got victory over bread, tomorrow it will be something else.



**With a story about banana bread, I cannot close without at least offering the recipe to you. This is my mother's recipe, which might have been her mother's, but it might have come out of an old magazine when I was little. Either way, it is absolutely the best banana bread recipe out there. I know what you're thinking, "No, I have the best recipe there is" or "How could you know that's the best if it's the only one you've had?" Well, that's just it. I won't try another. Now, I've had other banana bread that ladies have made. Who in the world passes up banana bread at a get together? But I will not try another recipe...ever. So, if you'd like to indulge yourself with some banana goodness, try this one. You'll probably never go back to your old recipe.


Banana Bread

1 c sugar (honey) 2 c flour
1/2 c oil 1 tsp baking powder
2 eggs 1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp vinegar 2/3 tsp baking soda
1 T vanilla
1 c mashed bananas
1 tsp black walnut flavor (optional)

Combine sugar and oil. Add eggs, bananas, vinegar, and flavorings. Sift dry ingredients. Add to mixture. Bake 50 minutes in greased pan @ 350*

Search and Rescue (with an interesting picnic)

On the last day of daddy's vacation, we all woke up early (not to daddy's liking) to some dreary weather. It was COLD and cloudy. We bummed it most of the morning, had some organic, free-range pork links for breakfast (to daddy's liking) and I thought we needed an adventure that day. So I asked Norah if she would like to go on an adventure. Much to my delight, she obliged.

She thought that meant a trip to the park, but with rain on the way, I had to think fast. I said, "Nope, we're taking a trip in the back yard. And there's a picnic involved."

Norah said, "Involved."

I look over during our 'adventure' chat and Norah has made herself very comfortable in her high chair. I secretly began to pack our goodies for the picnic. All the while, renaming the food to fit the themed 'adventure'. I told Norah she should bring a bag of tools. She comes out of her room with her new purse. She forgot the tools. I said, "You're going to need some rope. Why don't you go get some of your beads to be the rope."

"Otay, momma."

I said, "You're going to need some solution to spray on the new species of plants we discover and a measuring tape." I didn't know what the measuring tape was for, but it was sitting around and looked very official. They also all fit into her little purse perfectly. The plan was coming along. We gathered our snacks, our tools, some blankets. We're off.

Then I realized we needed an objective for the 'adventure'. Daddy was coming along, bringing Omi for the ride, and Nathan was in on it because he knew he'd get snacks if he tagged along. Whatever to get the big brother to join in the pretending...

Objective: A Search & Rescue of the Infant

Scenario: We are on a wilderness hike. There is a baby missing among wild animals and we must track through the jungle, catch the wild mountain cat, and rescue the baby.

Easy enough...

Off we go. Norah had it good on her ATV. Momma carried all the goods. Norah led the way. She obviously knew the right way to have an adventure.

Soon, we found some wild mushrooms that needed to be tested. (Here's where our solution came in. Pure Reverse Osmosis Water) We tested it, it was safe. We collected some for our journey.

The measuring tape really did come in handy. There was an enormous trench we had to cross. (At least the size of Nathan's foot) We measured it, left a tracking device that we can retrieve later for more research and we were on our way.

Along the way, there were many obstacles to overcome. This one was a bridge we had to cross. Slowly, slowly. Have you ever seen a better dressed rescue girl? And little did she know, she could have rescued the baby right then. But she had a better idea...

In her right hand, the tool bag.

In her left hand, the rope.

She sees in the distance the wild mountain cat that has been tracking us and stalking the baby.

Norah is in pursuit of the catch.

She managed to wrestle the cat to the ground without a scratch on her. We decided not to harm the beast, but find the baby and let the wild cat go later.

Finally, mission complete. We found the missing baby!!

Safe and sound. What an Adventure!

Time to eat.

Nathan enjoying the fruits of Norah's labor.

Some of the food on the menu is as follows:

Giant Orange Maggots (Mandarin oranges)

Dried Iguana Blood (craisans)

Wild Boar Meat (leather fruit bars)

Fossil Dinosaur Eggs (grapes)

Puss from the new Mushroom species (yogurt)

All You Need Is Love...

All you need is love. All you need is love, love. Love is all you need...

1 Corinthians 13 describes what love is and what love is not.
I LOVE those verses.



In the Curran home, there is a another description of what love is.

















LOVE is not knowing how to teach pre-algebra, but loving it anyway.






















LOVE is turning the neighborhood bully into a friend.
























LOVE is stopping the cleaning, the laundry, the school work to listen to a story that makes no sense to you, but was the highlight of your child's day.


















LOVE is picking up after everyone else even when cups, socks, and toys are not yours.

LOVE is listening to

"Father Abraham" or "The Bumble Bee Song" over and over and over again and actually enjoying it every single time.

LOVE is having and endless supply of yogurt for the times when kissing the booboos doesn't work.

LOVE is bringing the baby to bed with you for the eighth night in a row because she just wants to snuggle with moma.

LOVE is pretending that the living room floor is the lava and the couch is the rescue boat.

LOVE is repeating the same answer to the same question over and over again until it satisfies the curiosity of the toddler.

Seasons Change

It's been a little over three months since I've even visited my own blog page. That's unacceptable. But better now, than never.

My season has changed. Winds have shifted. The breeze is much better here. There was a storm for a few weeks, then my season changed. Thank you Lord for my new season.

Back in September, I took a lengthy (well, myself with three children, a week long trip is lengthy) trip to Virginia Beach. My dad lives there. I hadn't seen him in three years. The timing was good. But I wasn't going to see my dad. I was going to see my dearest friend be married to his love. I had great plans of blogging the entire trip, but alas, you see I did not do that. And now that so much time has passed, those of you that chat with me, know how the trip went. I will say this, I did it. I did a 14 hour drive in 17 all through the night. I carried our luggage up stairs, to the wrong room, down stairs, to the right room. I kept my children safe while staying at a hotel for six nights. I managed to not throw the malfunctioning GPS out the window on the interstate. I witnessed some men doing drugs at a gas station. I saw cars swerving all over the road. I was able to feed my children good, healthy food 90% of the trip. I saw many old friends. I met new ones. We had a wonderful time. We accomplished all we set out to do on our journey. And I will never do it again. I missed my husband way too much to make a trip like that again without him. But I did it.

As soon as we returned, God shifted my surrounds all upside down. And yet, when God does the shifting, He's putting it right side up again. What I realize is this; had I not gone on the trip, aside from missing the one of the most important weddings in history, then I don't believe I would have appreciated all the season changes if I had been here waiting for them to happen. I like to think of my going away as God's way of saying, "You go, and I'll fix this while you're gone." Don't we all want someone to fix little messes while we're away? What a blessing to have been gone and all these little things were being taken care of. When I returned, I just step into the series of events and let it unfold. Thank you, Lord.

So, as I readjust to the newness of life after my road trip, I'm reminded everyday that life is full of seasons. Some of them lasting only weeks, some of them months, some of them years; many, many years. I appreciate the change of seasons. The freshness. The excitement. I came back from one journey to start a new one. So begins...the blog continues.

Norah picked out her outfit for church this morning. Surprisingly, she did a good job dressing herself. She has been insisting on wearing the rain coat for some time, but daddy kept saying no. Mostly because it is so stinking hot and humid outside, it would be miserable. But today, I said yes. And she was so excited. Like some fashion magazine; all of her clothes are from dear friends of mine. The dress (thanks Anica), the rain coat (thanks a bunch Jessica), and the squeaky shoes (I still love them Melynda, thanks!). Thank you all for your contributions in Norah's Sunday attire.

Cleaning up Our Lives

Getting ready to do a yard sale is always so time consuming. Just ask some of my homeschool mommy friends; we had a huge 5 family yard sale back in May. Wow, the time we spent getting that ready was like having a full time job. But I enjoy doing the sorting, pricing, organizing the garage like a little store and see my old things go to new homes. I like to meet the people at o'dark thirty and take a long nap after I've counted my money.

This yard sale was different in the evaluating process. Do you know how many purses I had stashed away in my closet? All neatly lined up, cleaned out, ready to do the switch if I wanted to match an outfit to the bag. 17! That's how many purses I had. That has got to be a sin. Who in their right mind needs that many purses? Who could even use that many? I could not justify keeping most of them. I got rid of 12. The ones that I kept are more like big Mary Poppins bags that I can use on trips or long outings, and a tiny dress purse that has sentimental value. And isn't that silly? A purse with some sentimental value. Then I went on to the shoes. I had shoes hanging on a rack since I've been married and I haven't worn them. I look at them everyday, never thinking twice about them taking up space in my closet, let alone my life. These shoes could be on someone else's feet going somewhere.

It was like that with most of the things I went through. Each time I tell Ryan we are going to have a yard sale, he asks, "Do we even have stuff to get rid of?" I chuckle. He doesn't go into my closet too often. I was kind of ashamed to even have all these possessions. All the "stuff" taking up space. It's not being used. I don't even look at most of it; it just sits in the bottom of a drawer or in a box hopefully waiting to get picked up and appreciated some day. Well, I had the yard sale, and I'm going to have it again next weekend too. I'd like to do it every weekend until all this junk is out of my house. I feel like I can breathe a little better now. And yet, I walk into another room of the house and realize there are three more boxes of "stuff" I could be getting rid of.

We were going to get rid of the skateboard because Nathan gets too discouraged to keep trying to ride it. As you can see we found a much better way to use it. Norah had a blast with Nathan all day greeting people on it. Funny how children never play with a toy until you're about to sell it for really cheap.

In between shoppers. Ryan never did take my triple dog dare.

Norah played with this Buzz Lightyear for the longest time. "I'm Buzz Lightyear! I protect the galaxy from the threat of invasion, I come in peace." We listened to this all day long until a wonderful lady bought it.

My bag of carrots I finished off. Making money makes me get the munchies.

Yippee for Yard Sales

Good Morning Sunshine...

Today Ryan and I are having a yard sale. This is so much fun for me. Actually, so much that I've got the laptop pulled out on my "cashier's table" and am blogging about all the fun this is.

We are a bunch of nuts, though. We like to challenge each other while we do yard sales. I think something will sell for a certain price and Ryan thinks it should have been put into the trash long ago. Ryan begins to price the clothes individually and I have to go back behind him and change most of the prices. This is so much fun!!

As we are sitting here and no one is shopping, Ryan says, "Where are all the people?" He says this like I should have sent out invitations to the event. I smile, look at my cell phone to see what time it is, and realize we could have stayed in bed for 45 more minutes!! It's still too early.
A sweet man just came looking for something that we did not have. He asked us, "How ya doin'?"
We said, "Great. How are you?" Smiles all around. We're all doin' great....
I then looked at Ryan and said, "I triple dog dare you to ask the next person who comes up here, "how ya durin'?" You know, totally East Miton, country bumpkin talk. :)
He said he would. I have yet to hear it.

I hear thunder in the back ground. I hope it doesn't turn into anything. It's a really nice morning. Thank you God for a beautiful morning to sell off all my goods...

Norah's 2nd Birthday Party

I suppose it's better late than never to share in the birthday fun with you!! Norah's birthday was August 25th. We celebrated with a party. Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I love to do parties. I always go all the way with birthday #1. So this year, I thought I would downsize. As I was making out the guest list (yes, I do a guest list. I know this is not a wedding, but it's too much fun to pass up) I put down only family and close friends (who I thought would even find it the least bit amusing to come to the party) and I realized I hadn't done a very good job in keeping it small, which was my main goal. See, when we do parties, we like to cook and feed everyone too.
So, I couldn't start cutting people from the list. I just began thinking of all the ways I could cut costs and still throw an amazing party. So begins the theme. We took Norah on a trip to Party City and I must admit, I was hoping she would pick a princess theme or something to that effect. But each isle, one by one, we went down and she was not interested in anything. Until we came to the last bit of the theme isle, and there on the right was ELMO. I would not even point him out to her. I so desperately wanted her to pass on by without noticing, maybe we could go back to the Tinker Bell section. But to no avail, she spotted him and squealed in delight. I put on a happy face, because see, it is her birthday party not mine. And she is becoming a little lady with her own opinion of things, even if they are preschool opinions. We collected a few ELMO items, trying to stay on a budget. I passed up the invitations; you only get 8 for 4.99. That is not a deal to me when my guest list is now 18 families (about 50 people total). I decided to make my own, which cost me nothing. I also made the cakes with the help of my mother. I made the decorations; from a sign on the door, to blocks on the table for a center piece that spelled out ELMO. I was getting more and more excited. What a joy it is to plan birthday parties!! Needless to say, I did not keep this party smaller than last year. It was just as big of a celebration, but worth every little penny and all the time put into it.

Yes, Norah got cake this year. As most of you know, I've been a food nazi when it comes to junk. I'm very proud of this. This cake is not only organic, wheat, gluten, and dairy free, but we colored it with natural stuff too. Elmos face is colored red with beet juice (freshly juiced, of course, with my new Jack Lelane) and his nose and smile is with turmeric powder. His eyes are made from little gluten free cookies with chocolate morsels on top. Did I go overboard?

This was Norah's first surprise gift from Nana. If you tap the balloon just right, he sings Happy Birthday...and many more!! She was super excited. It's still in her room today.

New sunglasses from my friend Heather. Never fails, Heather always brings the gifts that ends the present opening. When Norah opens Heather's gift, I have to finish all the gift opening because Norah is consumed with the one she just got. Great gifts Heather!!

Finally, time for her to dig into her very first taste of cake. She took her sweet little time and even ate it with a fork. My little lady.

Curran family (minus Nathan, poor thing was still out of town). He ended up coming home the next night.

On Tuesday, Norah's birthday day, I asked her what she wanted for her birthday dinner. This is how it went.

MOM: Norah, what do you want for your birthday dinner?

NORAH: Dinner.

MOM: Yes, what do you want to eat?

NORAH: Eat.

MOM: Yes, what do you want to eat? Rice and beans?

NORAH: Rice and beans! (big smile)

MOM: Who has rice and beans?

NORAH: Rice and beans!! HaHa. (which is translated into "LaHa" for LaHacienda)

So we took her to HaHa for her birthday dinner. Above is her escort into dinner.

Daddy got fajitas. Norah decided they looked much better than her plate of rice and beans.

Norah got the traditional birthday attention from the staff. They even had a hat her size while they sang "Happy Birthday" to her in Spanish. She was more interested in the dessert they brought. A tortilla shell, deep fried, with honey and cinnamon with candy sprinkles. The junk food nazi in me came out. But, I let her have a little bite.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NORAH!!

Little Girls Growing Up

Daddy with my two beautiful girls.

We went to the store one night, came home and Norah crashed. I was feeding Naomi, Norah climbed into my lap and this is how she fell asleep. See her head? Hardly. She was literally flung over my lap with her head between the pillows of the couch.

This is Omi covered in glow sticks. We enjoy using our children for our personal entertainment.


Norah likes to sit on the bathroom counter and watch me get ready everyday. Sometimes she 'gets ready' too. This is her lipstick job.

I have a dish with all my makeup in it. She enjoys going through it and imitating what I do with each object. This is one of the torturing devises: the eyelash curler. If only you could just hold it up to your face and it worked.

Norah is going to grow up and I'm going to tell her that her favorite past time is flossing her teeth. Notice the three feet of floss it takes to floss her 8 teeth.

This was bath time turn potty time. Standing in the tub, she tells me she needs to 'poop' which really means, "I'm ready to get out and I know if I say 'poop' then you'll get me out of here." She is very amused with herself here.

Princess Norah (who still fits into her Bumbo seat at 2 years old) with Hannah, Hannah, and Lydia (who is hiding) I'm not sure who's idea it was to carry her around like royalty. I wouldn't put it past Norah to insist on going for a 'ride'.

New Glasses

Who would have thought that much complaining would lead to a HUGE blessing. I must first say, if you ever hear me complain, first stop me in my blubbering thoughts, and second, I'm not doing it to GET a blessing. With that said, I was completely unaware of how my words were coming out.
My sister, Lori and I have a date every Wednesday. I very much look forward to Wednesdays now. Sometimes we secretly meet for lunch, this is to say that we eat at La Hacienda when there is little money in my pocket and her husband doesn't like Mexican, so that is a very reasonable excuse to eat out. (the secret in this is that our poor husbands are probably stuck in their offices eating left overs from the night before) Sometimes I go to her house with Naomi and we chat and eat a whole box of crackers in her bed. And sometimes she comes over here with my nieces and they play with Norah on the trampoline in the blazing sun. No matter where we are, it's our time. I love it. So recently, Lori was here at my house. Long chats, lots of fun, venting, all the things sisters do when they gab. And I started to tell Lori how, come tax return, I was going to invest in some glasses. See, investing being the key word here. Dollar store glasses have worn out their welcome. You get the option of either 2.00, 2.25, 2.75, etc. When you put these ingenious glasses on, everything right in front of you seems magnificently larger, but when you look up, the world is now a total blur. I'm sorry, how is this supposed to help me with seeing things farther away? That's right, it's the dollar store, and they are dollar store glasses. I've been straining and squinting for some time now, and let's face it, a lady squinting all the time is really very unattractive. I was having trouble seeing road signs (even during the day), reading things on TV, and the PowerPoint at church (that sounds so pathetically high-tech when I put it like that...). So, all this straining has become rather old and I'm telling Lori how February won't come soon enough.
That weekend, I get an email from her telling me she has made plans for us. She insists that I must be ready and out the door by 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday. I must also bring a bottle for Naomi as I will not be able to feed her for about 45 minutes. My minds begins to wonder...how exciting. It's like a REAL date (minus the fact that I'm bringing my three month old daughter and it's with my sister not my husband, beggers can't be choosers). I had my ideas of where we might be going, but then I shot them down because none of them made any sense. We left the house promptly at 10:00 and began the drive. Chat, chat, chat while driving. I thought for sure she'd blind fold me or something. Finally, we pull into a EyeGlass World and it didn't occur to me until we were really getting out of the vehicle why we were there. How awesome!! What a surprise!!
I had a wonderful dr. tell me he blames the eye problems on the children. Chuckle. After telling him all the things I'm having trouble seeing, he tells me it's time to: stop driving altogether, get a bigger TV, and quite going to church. Chuckle. That is his Rx. As he's writing out the actual prescription for glasses, he tells me he can write one for Ryan for a larger tv. I told him, "My husband would really appreciate that."
With Lori holding Naomi, and me holding about five pairs of glasses, trying to decide, I would put one pair on, get her opinion then put another pair on. After much deliberation, she helped me pick out two new pairs of glasses. What a wonderful blessing. When we handed them over to the tech to get them ready, I told Lori how much I appreciated this. I never could have imagined this is what she had in mind. She told me, "Six months is too long to wait for glasses."
Lori, I love you. You're amazing. Glasses or not, I had a perfect day with you!

Wise Golden Hair

This is blog worthy. Okay to me.
It is late. I am on my way to check email one last time before going to bed. I was in the bathroom, pulling my hair back into a clip. The light must have hit so subtly, in just the right spot. I had to take a closer look. Closer. "You've got to be kidding me." That's all I could think. As I begin to filter through the strands of hair pulled back I finally get the one I'm looking for, it's a single GRAY HAIR!! I held onto it for a few seconds before deciding what to do with it. I held it up to the light to make sure it wasn't just some highlights that hadn't faded yet. It wasn't. Then I tugged on it ever so slightly to make sure it wasn't a really long cat hair that made it's way into my own silky locks. Blasted! It wasn't. Still holding this nuisance, I decided to do the only thing a women my age would do...I PULLED THAT SUCKER OUT!! You would have thought I was a CSI by the way I was examining it. From every angle, holding it up to the light, touching it. And then I thought, there is a difference between gray and WHITE. This was a white piece of hair. But when I held it, it was strong, thick, and shone like none of the other strands of my hair. It was like spun gold. I like that, spun gold. Doesn't make a girl feel so old. I had to call Ryan in on the investigation. He came in with much excitement (shock). He said, "You're 15 years behind me in getting gray hair." Was this suppose to make me feel better? Still fascinated and in awe of this discovery, I decided I had to keep my new found jewel. I placed it on a dark cloth on the bathroom counter, the contrast of colors is spectacular. As I came to bed, surprised to be smiling, Ryan said, "Gray hair is a sign of wisdom." He's so gentle with words. I said, "I just pulled my wisdom out." I've always been very excited to begin a new decade, but this is ridiculous. Oh well, I will venture on in hopes of gleaning wisdom in ways other than the top of my head.

Road To Emmaus

"This is our highway to heaven. Our American dream. Two fools on the road to Emmaus. Well it might as well be you and me." Jason Upton

I love this song. But for the longest time I didn't really know what it meant. This is why I started this blog. Not only for those of you who care to keep up with us, but to leave a mark on this path.

To not live my life so foolishly that I miss what is happening all around me. What God is doing all around me.

In Luke 24, it tells about what was going on after Christ was crucified. V.13 begins with these two men walking along this road, the Road To Emmaus and talking intently about the past three days events. Along comes a man and begins to chat with them. He asks what they are talking about and why they look so down. The two men are in shock that this fellow hasn't heard all that has happened in town. They begin to tell him about Jesus and being wrongly judged and sentenced to a horrible death. They are so upset that the rumors they heard about Jesus being the One to save Israel must not be true because alas the tomb is empty. All this time they had believed in the prophets and now even the body of the Savior cannot be found. The man walking with them says, "How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to listen to all that the prophets have said." It was Jesus all along. Walking with them, listening to their sob story and they were missing the glory. They were so caught up in the "woe is me" and "look what has happened to us" that they didn't even recognize He was right there with them.

THIS IS US! Our nation, our culture, our children. We don't listen, we think we know it all. We think we've got life all figured out. We are not teaching our children to listen to that 'still small voice' when it is right there next to us. We cannot afford to be those 'fools' on the road. Can you imagine the conversation had they known they were walking with Jesus? I bet it would have gone completely different. I do not want to be a fool on the road. I want to see Him in everything, in everyday, in every conversation, in every smile, tear, and embrace. I do not want to miss Him. And so, I'm teaching my little ones to recognize. Do not be so caught up in the worries of the world, when we are not of this world, that you miss what He is doing with you, where He is taking you.

"Do you ever get angry at the homeless? Do you ever throw your dollar in disgust? Do you ever get so angry that you can't see what you've got, right in front of you." Jason Upton, Road to Emmaus