A Light In the Darkness...

There is something so magical to me about these little lighted houses. I LOVE them. My kids LOVE them. I have caught each one of them peeking through the windows at one time. There is something so warm about the glow of the light emitted from these miniature villages especially at night. It makes me wonder about the little people that might inhabit them. Are they laughing in the warmth of their homes? Sitting in their comfiest clothing?
I LOVE to be at home. I am a homebody for sure. I used to love to be away and out and about. Don't get me wrong, I am not a hermit by any stretch. I STILL must go and do, but I prefer my home. I crave home most at night when by some chance I'm not there. If I pass by other homes, I crane my neck to see inside windows with no coverings...to see the glow and the lighting makes me long for the warmth of my own home. I've had seasons of a chill in my home that could make you freeze your buns on my sofa, but those seasons make me appreciate the warmth I have right now so much more. The glow comes from much more than the lighting.
If we have accepted salvation from Jesus, we carry an inner glow and warmth. He is the Light of the World and if he's in our hearts, we can't help but shine. I want to glow in such a way that makes others crave Him. He is our Light in the darkness and He is the keeper of our eternal home. Do others see this in me or do I send a chill through their spine with my icy remarks and attitude that makes the hair on the back of their necks stand up??
Not really where I was planning to go with this post, but God led me down a different route. When people look at you, do they see the glow? Do you personally have that glow in your heart right now to claim?

Who Am I?

Well, it happened again. I dreamed big. I planned bigger. I produced bigger than that. The event happened. Words were spoken. Some words left unsaid. The event ended. Everyone left. I was disappointed....let down. I cried. I was exhausted. I cleaned up and went to bed. Let the stewing begin. I've replayed the event over and over from the theme, to the last good-bye. I consider myself to be a very realistic person, but no matter how many variables I consider beforehand, somehow I always get my hopes up. I thought I would grow out of it, but so far I haven't. I guess I could still hold on to the notion that I might grow out of the "getting the hopes dashed" one day, but I'd probably get my hopes up waiting for it to happen. Yep, it's THAT bad. Does this make me a dreamer? I've often wondered if I was a dreamer or a realist. I'm not sure I have a firm yes or no either way.

I have many, MANY times held back on the planning and carrying out of certain events because of fear. Fear of making someone feel inferior -Fear of being misjudged of my intentions-fear of the disappointment that was sure to follow when I didn't get the reactions that I thought I should get. Then there just comes a time for risk. You risk those fears because it's who you are-how God created and designed you to be. I am a doer, a go-all-outer, a lover of details and giving my all to whatever task I've been given. Ironically, I love simplicity, but in an extravagant sort of way....and even if no one appreciates it in the way that I would like for them to, I will keep being all of those things. I will continue to dream big, plan bigger, and produce biggest because God wired me this way. I will have more let-downs and disappointments, but ain't NOBODY gonna steal my JOY which runs way deeper than all of the surface ripple stuff.

I had to post this for someone in particular. She needed this today. She needed to be affirmed through the writing and the wording....and I will admit that the "she" is me~

First Week Frenzy.....

So, last week was the first week of school up here. State law in Michigan mandates that schools can't start until after labor day. I'm sure it's a lot wordier than that, but there it is in a blunt nutshell.

Thatcher had an assignment that was due on Friday. The typical "ME" bag. He had to bring in a bag with things about himself.

Of course, Thursday night we're trying to get this done. He said his stomach was hurting at dinner, so he laid on the couch while the rest of us ate. After we finished, he perked up and wanted nuggets. (I'm thinking I got played, but it was minimal.) I made his nuggets, or rather warmed them up, and told him we needed to work on this project after he ate to get it done. Thatcher usually swallows his food whole. You know "PASS the teeth and over the gums. Look out stomach here it comes."

I finally found the key into getting him to chew his dinner....tell him he has homework to do. I've never seen him take 30 bites to eat one nugget. So, I start looking at this list. Only 4 things to go in the bag..not too bad. However, one was a family photo. I have TONS of the 3 of them, but none recent of the 5 of us.

Let me run the gammit for a sec:I HATE....I REPEAT...I HATE being photographed. I try to stay out of pictures as much as possible. I just don't photograph well....plus the "average" camera adds 10 pounds, but I always happen upon the atypical camera that adds a good 40.

Needless to say, we were in a bind. It was close to Margaret's bathtime. Jack had gotten a wild hair and jumped in the shower early to get it over with. Thatcher was eating at snail's pace, and Chris was adding apps to his phone.

The next few events were a blur, but the next thing I knew we had the tripod out, camera balanced on top with a book (since we're missing the little piece that connects the camera to the tripod), I'm yelling at everyone to huddle in and SMILE, Jack is complaining that he's already in pajamas for the family picture, Chris sets the timer, jumps in beside me and "CHEEEEEEESSE!"

Whew! What a worldwind. Done!....or not.....Chris was awesome enough to take Margaret upstairs, give her a bath, and put her to bed while I printed the picture...but then...I really wished I would have stuck out my neck... I was seeing a crevice. Not liking my tired eyes, shiny skin....not much I could do about Chris' forced smile. So, I opened up Photoshop Elements and began with the "healing brush". I should probably read more about that part of the editing program because I failed miserably. For your viewing enjoyment, I'm sharing my work......

ATTEMPT #1:

Notice my 5 o'clock shadow. I'm thinking bearded lady at the circus.

ATTEMPT #2:

Apparently, I've been eating chicken with hormones and have grown a partial 3rd eye and another nose.

ATTEMPT #3:

Please, Lord...not a butt chin.

I finally gave up. I printed the original, stuck it in the bag and moved on. It's gonna be a long year.