Amazing Grace.....

My husband and I rarely think it's worth it to pay a babysitter and the high price of tickets to go see a movie in the theatre. We tend to wait until it comes out on video. On occasion, though, Hollywood releases a movie of substance...one that I believe can inspire and make a difference in this world....and one that we deem worthy of going to see in the theatre, if nothing more than to do our small part in supporting such movies. I believe Amazing Grace is one of these films. It is the true-life story of William Wilberforce and his campaign to end slavery in Britain. There is also a campaign to go along with the movie...an effort to raise awareness of modern-day slavery that is still rampant in our world. Go here to check it out.

I was made aware of this movie by a fellow blogger, Christianne. Her and her husband are involved in this campaign and I am grateful that she's using her voice for this important movement.

Also, here is a wonderful review and very inspiring post by Kirsten, another blogging friend, who writes about what she gleaned from this film. Definately worth the trip over......

SNOWY DAY..... We woke up to a surprise snow this morning...a very pretty one, at that. And with a five year old in the house, staying inside is not an option. I decided to take a walk around the block and photograph the things around me that I see each day. We live in a small town on a quaint street, with lots of older homes- and we tend to walk everywhere, as most of our town's amenities are nearby.

Come....take a walk with me.....

Hmmm......I see signs of children nearby- let's see if we can find them....



Ahh hah! Found you........

That's a pretty cool igloo you've got there......

We've come to the corner...and to my favorite tree on the block....


Very majestic.......


This is the favorite stop of the neighborhood dogs .......


Like this one....who really wanted to come out and walk with me........


The snow didn't stop the church-goers- I could hear them singing......


I think these neighbors would rather be near the ocean.......

The little bungalow on the corner....also home to about 20 feral cats......



Charlie, the horse's, home......


Don't think these will get used tomorrow.......



Ahhh......back to home sweet home......

Our Forefathers and our Spiritual Roots.......in honor of President's Day.....

"Prayer at Valley Forge" is one of Sir Laughsalot's favorite stories in his Children's Book Of Heroes.....and I love that he will know about this great man in our history and the great faith he had. Even though there is some debate about whether Washington was actually seen in this exact spot by the farmer, Issac Potts, it is known that Washington did pray often, usually in quiet solitude. There is something so moving and humbling to me about the story and painting... seeing this great man, kneeling before his Maker, submitting to His will and plan.

This article , interviewing author Peter A. Lillback, was in an insert that comes in our town's paper each week. He spent 15 years researching Washington and his writings and speaks of Washington's Christian faith and what kind of leader he would be in modern times. And he speaks of how some historians have tried to downplay Washington's faith.

I find it sad...this movement to de-spiritualize America..making everything "politically correct", so as not to offend anyone...even re-writing history in a lot of ways. This mindset eats away at our roots and culture. I feel the Founding Father's intentions have been warped and highly misconstrued...now making it "Freedom from Religion" instead of "Freedom of Religion." Every culture and country is permeated with its roots- spiritual, cultural, and political..and it shows up in symbolism everywhere. In most other countries, it is something to be respected and preserved, but not in America...there is a Huge underlying movement to remove anything that speaks of our spiritual past...which is Christianity.

Some historians with certain political agendas are trying to de-spiritualize our founding fathers, also. If you do the research yourself...both reading original documents and their correspondences, God was a big factor in their decisions... and their spirituality diffused their lives and their decisions and helped shape their view of government and its role and responsibility. And I think it's not historically accurate to leave that out or downplay it.

Here is an excerpt from another Great American president's proclamations..encouraging a day of fasting and prayer:

"It is the duty of nations as well as of men to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God, and to confess their sins and transgressions in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon, and to recognize the sublime truth, announced in Holy Scripture, and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed whose God is the Lord. And, insomuch (sic) as we know that by His divine law nations, like individuals, are subjected to punishments and chastisement in this world, may we not justly fear that the awful calamity of civil war which now desolates the land may be but a punishment inflicted upon us for our presumptuous sins, to the needful end of our national reformation as a whole people? We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of Heaven; we have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which has preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us. It behooves us, then, to humble ourselves before the offended power, to confess our national sins and to pray for clemency and forgiveness." -Abraham Lincoln [March 30, 1863]

Can you imagine if one of our Presidents made a speech like that today? He'd be run out of office. I, for one, am proud of this great faith of our forefathers and believe it is one of the reasons these men were such great leaders and helped our country attain the freedoms we have now. Because of this faith, they believed in "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" and that "all men are created equal under God". No, our country isn't perfect, neither were the men who founded it. Every culture and country has sordid events in their history... a lot, much worse than America. And things like Slavery, that our country battled so fiercely over, is still going on in many parts of the world (that could be a whole other post, in itself). I think we have unparalleled freedoms and opportunities and I, for one, don't take that lightly or take it for granted.

So in closing... God Bless America!!! :)

Here are some other good links and reads regarding our Forefather's faith and out country's spiritual roots.....

1. American Destiny : http://www.americandestiny.com/index.htm

2. Stand to Reason: The Faith of our Father's :http://www.str.org/site/News2?page=NewsArticle&id=5243

Occasionally, I will read an incredibly moving post or see a gorgeous photo on another's blog.....and I like to share! Yesterday's post by my blogging friend, Elise, happens to be one of these posts. A very poignant and gently written post about memories and motherhood and what our children will remember about us. If you have a moment, go HERE and read. It's worth the trip over......

Wordless Wednesday.......
Storytime with Grandma... this photo was taken by my sister when we were all in Carolina for the holidays. I think it speaks for itself.....




For more Wordless Wednesdays go here.....

Our Daily Bread.....
"The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight..." — M. F. K. Fisher,The Art of Eatin'

Organic Seeded Seduction Bread...... that is the name of the bread in the photo, a hostess gift given to me by a friend that came to visit this weekend. What do you think? Does it look seductive? It did to me...... and became even more so as I smelled it warming in the oven. What is it about the smell of fresh, homemade bread baking in the oven? It conjures up many thoughts, emotions, and memories for me, as my mom made a lot of homemade breads growing up....english muffins, biscuits, oatmeal bread......

Bread is a universal...a part of almost every culture and diet and has deep meaning for many. It is used as a symbol and for teaching, as I think of the many scripture passages and teachings of Jesus that refer to bread..... "As they were eating, Jesus took some bread and blessed it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, “Take this and eat it, for this is my body” Mathew 26:26 .
We speak of "breaking bread together" when we fellowship and eat together.

When I "googled" the word bread, I found these interesting links:
1. Here is the Wikipedia definition of bread.
2. Here is a blog devoted to bread.
3. Here is a website devoted to ending Hunger.
4. And Here is a site all about the mechanics and science of baking bread.

What thoughts and emotions are evoked when you smell homemade bread baking?

The Last of a Generation.......
"In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage - to know who we are and where we have come from." -Alex Haley

"You monkeys snuck right past me," she said as she walked up behind us to open the door to her apartment. She ambled up the sidewalk , cane in hand....in her thick coat and knit hat that her mother made. My sister and I had just arrived and didn't see her sitting in her car in the parking lot.

"I was waiting in my car, watching for you."

"For how long?", we asked.

"Since 9 o'clock", she said.

"NORMA!", I said, because I knew it was after 10. "Did you not think we could find our way? It's freezing outside!"

She just grinned at me and unlocked the door to let us all in from the cold.

Norma is my second cousin and lives in Hagerstown, MD. She's the last of my grandfather's generation. She's approaching 90 and is a treasure trove of memories and stories of growing up near my grandfather and her summers spent on his farm.

My sister and I met up in Hagerstown this past weekend for a two-fold purpose.....to see each other one last time before she flies back to her current home in London, and to visit with Norma and record her memories and stories for future generations. My grandfather died when I was pretty young...so her stories are my connection to him...a living diary of their intertwined lives.

Norma is all spunk and personality, as were most of the women on my dad's side of the family. She loves visits from "cousins" and basked in the attention and questions. As she recounted her past, she would often drift off, getting caught up in the memory...often a smile would appear during these moments..or a tear in the eye. She told us of the mischief that would happen on the farm....and of fighting with her sister over Emory Metzger, whom her sister ended up marrying. Her favorite phrase is "Cotton-pickin"...used over and over in regards to people and circumstances.

Norma and her younger sister, Jenny, never married. They lived together most of their life and provided foster care to infants until a home was found for them. We took Norma to her favorite diner for lunch and she pointed to a place in the restaurant where one of her foster babies found his "forever family"...a couple that saw him as they were having dinner and became enamored with him, eventually adopting him. We chauffeured her around town as she pointed out places that were near and dear to her...giving me driving directions such as "Stay on this road until you get somewhere else".....

At the end of a wonderful day spent together, we hugged and kissed, and her parting words were, "I love you, monkeys!" A day to be cherished.... and stories to be passed down to the next generation so that the "living" history of our family will be preserved and told for years to come....

(photos courtesy of my sis' )

Wordless Wednesday....
not something I normally do, but it was a busy day today...and a little elf had been at work in my kitchen!

For more Wordless Wednesdays, go here......

"Horses, Kids Find Hope At Salem...."

I came back early from my trip b/c of snow and want to share what it was all about. But I need to look over pictures and get my thoughts together. In the meantime, I received the most recent Salem newsletter and thought I'd share one of the stories about an exciting new venture in the Horse Therapy program there. It touched me.... and I think it's going to be wonderful for the children.....


"Within every heart there exists a special place, a place where the hopes and dreams of the soul soar, unchained by logical or physical entrapments... It is a place where the impossible flourishes, where dreams survive the inferno of reality to become the miraculous wonders that draw us forward- it is the place where hope rises. " -Kim Meeder, "Hope Rising"

There are so many ways to destroy hope.

Children and animals are more vulnerable than most. For them, even a good meal comes at the whim of someone in charge, and there is little they can do to escape abuse at the hands of their caregivers.

For years, horses at Salem have found their way past the pain into our children's hearts as healers, helping them toward compassion, trust, confidence, responsibility, hope, and the freedom to fly.

And now, with two newcomers in the stable who were abused themselves, a new chapter has opened. The healers themselves need healing, and two of our young ladies have already begun the journey with them.

Otto and Percy came to Salem from At Last Farms in Oakland last month on a free lease basis, and may stay as long as they are needed. They had already begun to benefit from therapeutic care at the rescue center.

Otto is a Belgian, a huge draft horse. Much of his history is unknown, but the scars on his body, the marks of an electric cattle prod, a piece missing from his ear, and this giant's initial fear of humans tells an all-too-familiar story of abuse. At 17.3 hands high, he was severely underweight when purchased at an auction last summer in July. Since then he has gained 300 pounds and, at about 1500 pounds, is within 200-300 pounds of his ideal weight.

Percy is a thoroughbred, a former race horse abandoned by his owners when he could no longer earn enough money to save his life. He, too, was rescued by At Last farms at an auction where he had been destined for slaughter, four years ago. Percy was in such poor health and so weak that he could barely stand; so thin that his ribs hung from his backbone in a hollowed-out row and his sides were invisible from the front. Since the auction he has done well; his health has improved dramatically and he has continued to gain weight. Most important, he is, like Otto, gentle and affectionate.

Both horses can be ridden by beginners, and our two human angels are eagerly awaiting the day when they can saddle up and share that first trip mounted. But all Salem horses must be in residence for a month before being ridden by kids, and Camille and Maria(names changed for privacy) are redeeming the time by reaching across the gulf of pain and abuse with love and care and words of kindness.

"Salem has given these two horses more hope and desire for life by presenting them with the job of teaching and healing children who have been abused and neglected, " said Instructor Charlotte Stimmell. "These horses can now help heal human hearts as their own have been helped to heal."

"Sometimes it is only through devastation that we find the truth," writes Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch owner Kim Meeder in her book Hope Rising. "Hardship can be like a savage cleansing fire. All the things we think as necessary to our survival are soon revealed as nothing more than the dross of complacent luxury, consumed by the fire as it burns down to the true metal of the soul. Hardship uncovers the only thing we truly need to survive- HOPE."

For these horses and these girls, hope rises out of the devastation. "What once needed healing now gives healing. What was once broken has now been restored. What was once lost is now found." (Meeder)

An Ode To Ironing......

"An ode to ironing, the bane of my time....

Is the monotony worth it, just to save a dime?

The ironing board beckons from it's home in the corner,

as the ironing pile begins to overflow it's border....

One wrinkle down...hundreds more to go....

As the steam rises, my thoughts overflow....

towards missed opportunities and adventures to come,

my dreams rise up, and float away towards the sun.

But then my reverie is broken by the hissing machine...

and I'm back to my chore.... just the iron and me....."

Okay, excuse my lack of poetic skills. Ironing is my VERY least favorite chore in the whole world. Up until my husband got his current job, I never had to iron...a quick throw into the dryer did the trick just fine. Now he has to wear dress clothes each day and it's my job as the "Domestic Engineer"...ahem... to launder and iron them. We don't want to waste money on dry-cleaning or be exposed to the toxins it puts out. I guess there is a "right" way to iron, but I don't know what that is. I usually iron more wrinkles INTO the clothes as I'm trying to get them out. I tell my husband to blame the horrible ironing job on his hour commute.

I cope with the hour long monotony by putting in a favorite CD and doing little oompa-loompa bends to the music...or thinking deep thoughts......or chatting with Sir Laughsalot about the varied and random things that fill a 5 year-old's brain.

Do I have any ironing lovers out there? If so, please share some tricks of the trade...they would be appreciated. And for those like me, what do you do to make your chores more enjoyable? I love hearing other's ideas......

Coziness....... I think we could all use some during this frigid weather and snow. And I can't go too many posts without sharing the beauty of my surroundings with you, my readers and friends.....

" I feel stretched to the depth of my being. Every aspect of my life...my spirit, my body, my soul, have been challenged to an extent I have never known. God has been my strength through this past week, my first week at Salem. Otherwise, I would not have made it through. It's funny... I left family, friends, home... and entered into strangers, loneliness, oppression, violence- yet I feel peace: "the peace that passes all understanding". That's how I know I am supposed to be here.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced my first shift- the spiritual attacks, the emotional attacks, and the physical exhaustion. I know now why they told me it would be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. But there are already kids, like J. and C., that have made it worth it. Father, just use me , strengthen me, and prepare me for what is ahead."

- This was a journal entry that I wrote after my first week at Salem . My first role there was as a Teaching Parent, where I basically lived there 5 days at a time with my partner, in rotation with another set of Teaching Parents. I had this ideal in my head that I would just come in and love on the children and befriend them, and they would soak everything up and receive it and appreciate it. Before you enter this type of work, you think "poor kids, they have been abused, neglected..they will just respond to any amount of affection you give them". WRONG!!! Example of one of my first interactions: The girls' bathroom had run out of toilet paper...so a 10 year old resident walked up to me and proclaimed, "Go get me some toilet paper, B**ch!" Now that is a name I had never been called before (not to my face, anyway). Needless to say, I didn't go get her the toilet paper and told her I wouldn't until she asked respectfully. She refused and got so angry that she went around banging kitchen cabinet doors, throwing chairs, cursing, etc. and ended up having to be physically restrained by another houseparent. I was in shock.... and many more of these encounters ensued, until I was thoroughly "tested" by the children to see what I was made of. Apparently, there have been staff that came in and walked out a couple of days later, with bags packed.

Abuse, neglect, and abandonment lead to severe emotional and behavioral problems in most children. They don't trust adults. The very people that should love them and protect them have harmed them and turned their back on them. For a lot of the kids at Salem, the abuse and neglect started very early in their life and they never really had an "attachment" figure, or someone they bonded with during their formative years. So you have to prove yourself to them before you will get even an "inkling" of respect or affection. I was told to go in as tough as nails, something that didn't come naturally to me...but I did it anyway. At the end of my first shift, the same 10 year old girl came up to me and said, "I don't want you to leave...will you come back?"

"Yes, I will"....... and I did.

Where does this road lead?

At the age of 22, I drove down this road for the first time...... and my life was forever changed. I was living in NC and had just finished my Associate in Arts degree, was waiting tables, and was surrounded by a lot of old, nagging ghosts. I was restless and didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Some old friends from KY had convinced me to rent a place on Kentucky Lake with them for the summer and I had already lined up another waitressing job there.

One afternoon, while packing my belongings, I took a break and started glancing through one of my parent's magazines. This in itself was odd, because it was a conservative Christian political magazine....something that I had absolutely no interest in at the time. While browsing through the classified adds (something else I NEVER did...) a "Help Wanted" add caught my eye......... and the rest is history.

I never went to Kentucky. Within 2 months, my car was packed with all my earthly belongings... basically clothes, my guitar, a djembe drum, and some various sentimentalities...and I was headed north on Interstate 81 to what would become one of the most challenging, yet earth-moving experiences in my life. A little, lost, NAIVE country girl that grew up with a most idyllic childhood entered into an unknown world of broken promises, broken souls, abuse, and anger..... but also into a place of miracles and healing......a setting that was familiar, but amidst lives and backgrounds that were not.

The road led here........

(sidenote: apparently the link hasn't been consistently working... their webserver host is down. so if you can't get it to work, please do come back and check it out later, and read the "stories". I'll leave the post up for another day.......)

JESSE

(This was one of my first posts when I started blogging. I decided to re-post it as this is something that has been in my thoughts lately. And it will lead into some upcoming posts about what I do for a living. So for some of you it will be a repeat....sorry! )

One of the first boys to break my heart was just that..... a little boy. I was eighteen and working as a summer intern for my church. One of our responsibilities that summer was to host week-long daycamps in some of the more rural and poor areas of our community. One particular week we were based out of a small, country church and I was to have the older elementary school kids in my group. The first morning, as my kids began to arrive, in walked a 10 year old boy named Jesse with a biker bandana wrapped around his head, tattoos on his arm(yes, real tattoos), and a wily look in his eyes. He strutted right up to me, looked me square in the eyes, and said, "HEY WOMAN!" He then proceeded to tell me that he didn't want to be there and he wasn't going to listen to anything I said.

Jesse stayed true to his word that day and also made sure he was the center of attention- shouting over all the other kids, grabbing things from people, and generally making a nuisance of himself. During recreation was the only time he listened, and that was only because the guys I worked with led it and he knew he couldn't participate unless he followed the rules. At the end of the day, while I was breathing a big sigh of relief, Jesse informed me that daycamp was boring and he wasn't coming back.

Tuesday morning dawned and I was quietly preparing activities for the day when I heard a loud voice coming from down the hall: "WHERE'S THAT WOMAN?" Jesse did come back. Not only that, but he was my only kid that day. Looking back, I know that this was God-ordained and I did my best to make a connection with Jesse and keep him engaged. I had brought in a CD of one of my favorite Christian bands to play while we made crafts, which at first Jesse balked at. That was until he heard that it was rap music. We turned the volume up and I did my best MC Hammer moves while Jesse rolled his eyes and then laughed hysterically. He then joined me and we danced around the room instead of making crafts. We talked about his tattoos, which he told me his dad gave him. We played basketball and I beat him in a game of HORSE. And by the end of the day he actually called me by my real name. He was a little more reluctant to go home that day.

As each day came, Jesse continued to show up and thoroughly enjoy himself. He basked in the attention and love. He became my shadow the rest of the week and wanted to help me with everything I did. Each day he became more and more reluctant to go home.... and as the week progressed I got little glimpses into why. The van driver's reports about Jesse's home were pretty dismal and Jesse talked of drinking and yelling. There were also some tell-tale signs of neglect.

The last day of our daycamp dawned and Jesse was extra clingy all day. We had a little farewell party in the afternoon and then the time came for the kids to board the van and go home. I knew it would be sad because we had grown attached to many of the kids, but nothing could have prepared me for Jesse's goodbye. Every kid had left to board the van except Jesse, who kept finding reasons to piddle. I had already told him goodbye and given him a big hug and kiss. When the last call came for the van, Jesse ran to me, started crying and clung to my leg with all his might. He asked me if he could come home with me, to which I replied that he couldn't but I would really miss him, too. At this point my heart began to hurt for him so much as I realized this tough little man was really just a hurt and needy little boy.
I couldn't pry Jesse off my leg and he continued to cry. Eventually he had to be pulled away by one of the guys, who then ushered him to the van. I wept the whole drive home that day.

Jesse was just one of many children living in similar circumstances that we encountered that summer. We had been warned, but nothing really prepares you for it. As progressive a community we lived in, our county had one of the highest rates of child abuse and neglect in the state.

I left for college at the end of that summer and I don't know what happened to Jesse. I have no grand illusions that his week with us was any major catalyst in his life. But I still think about him, cry over him, and pray for him. I pray that the seed of Love and hope that was planted in his heart that week was watered by other people in his life and would grow to fruition. And I pray for kids all over the world who are just like Jesse. You see, I believe a seed was not only planted in Jesse's heart that week, but also in mine. Gradually, over the years, the seed has been watered by other kids and other circumstances- many of which I will tell about in the future. Meeting Jesse that week put a burden on my heart that was so great it led to a passion, and eventually, a career working with troubled and at-risk children.

I write this only because you need to know about Jesse. He lives in your community, too. We live in a fallen world and child neglect and abuse will probably be a constant in our world. But can you imagine the impact it would have if every adult, every family, and every church got consistently involved in the life of a troubled or at-risk child in their community? I have no doubt the impact would be great. Even one hurt soul that was healed could change the destiny of many. Just imagine!