About a year ago(and it really was a year ago, as I just went to check the correct link for the post and it was Sept. 23,2008!), I was over at Holy Experience reading about how to make and keep a journal.

I have kept various journals since I was a teen.  Writing my thoughts comes easily to me, easier than saying them aloud.  At times, when I was young, I would write for hours, late into the night.

Back then I didn't have young ones who would expect my full attention first thing in the morning.  And sadly, as I got married and as more children came my journaling decreased.  I would write and then months would go by before I would write again.

When I saw Ann Voskamp's Homemaking Journal,
the idea really appeal to me.  The scrapbooker(something else that has fallen by the wayside!) in me loved the creative aspect to it and I love pretty pictures in magazines.  I also have a knack for expressing my thoughts.  When things happen during the day, I re-play them in my mind as if I was writing a story(that may sound strange, but I've always been that way, so I'm used to it!).

So, I bought the blank notebook, found some magazines at a thrift store and began to snip away.  I worked on it for a few days, getting the first few pages done.

And then life took over and it sat.  And it sat, eventually to be tucked away in a drawer.  Another really cool project that I didn't have time for.

Also about a year ago, I joined Twitter.  I could quickly type out the events and thoughts of my day, just as a means of expressing myself.  It was fun to share cute quotes from my toddlers or what we were having for dinner.

Then, about a month ago, while again reading more about journaling,
I had a 'light-bulb-moment' and I finally got it!

All of the things I was sharing on Twitter, I could put in my journal.  Here I was telling the world(my mere 30 followers or so) all about my day, when I could capture those snippets of life for my children, for my family.

I heard it again today and I cringed.

It was the sound of the neighbour yelling at her kids.  The weather is warm, windows are open and voices carry.  My heart goes out to those kids every time I hear it.  I'd like to give that mom a piece of my mind and let her know how it affects her kids.

It is easy to think I'm a better mom, because I would never use such fowl language.  But before I let self-righteousness take over, I have to ask myself "Is my speech 'seasoned with salt as it were'? Do my words 'benefit those who listen'"
Even if I never swear at my kids, the tone of my voice can be just as cutting.

Yes, there are times when I raise my voice.
Yes, there are times when I'm pushed to anger.
And yes, I have to admit that I've snapped at my kids when I've been upset about something else.

Do I tell my children often enough how much I love them?  Do I encourage and build them up?  Is our home a safe-haven where kind words abound?

  I pray that it is.

Hubby was watching 'Deadliest Catch' and I sat beside him on the couch after a long day, trying to concentrate on my book.  The kids were all tucked in bed, except one, who startled us.

"Daddy?" he said as he walked up to us, "I want to know God." There was emotion in his voice.

The TV got turned off, I closed my book, this was deeper than the usual 'I'm scared of the dark.'  He came and sat between us.  Questions were asked and we deciphered what he meant.  He had asked Jesus into his heart a few years ago.  He was talking about knowing God deeper and growing in his faith.

No, you can't grow in your faith! Stay where you are!
Stay young and small and ignorant. 
Stay within my arms, don't flourish.
Stay where I can see you.  Don't leave us. 
Don't get caught up in the grand adventure of following Jesus, trusting Him with your life!
It's a big scary world, stay safe!

These thoughts crowded in my mind, all for a split second.

Is that really what I wanted? No. He must grow, and learn, and walk, and fly...

He's supposed to.  He needs to, to walk with God, trust Jesus with his life.
He may be under my roof, but his Savior has his heart.

Honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way!

And so it begins; The annual procession of dandelion bouquets, presented with love and accepted with even more. Somehow, kids just know that mom will appreciate chubby fistfuls of this happy, yellow weed. And I do!

18 months ago God blessed us with a house. It's an amazing, faith-building story and I have thanked Him daily for it.

When we moved in, we knew there were a few things that would need fixing up.  The crawl space under the house had water in it and would need to be completely renovated(I wont go into detail about what needed to be done. Hubby could explain it all, but that's for another blog.) and we would change around some rooms and paint etc.  Those types of things are to be expected when moving into a new house.  You eventually make it 'yours'.

Well, over the last 18 months we've discovered many more things that need fixing.  The roof leaks, the yard is swampy, we found rats in the garage(Yuck! That's another story in itself!), the furnace needs fixing, it needs new siding, and we only just discovered that there is asbestos in the attic!(Hubby says it's only harmful if it's in powder form and you inhale it, but still, we will have to get it out of there!)

When you buy a 'fixer upper' at least you know what you're getting into.
Why would God bless us with a leaky, cold, drafty house?
And where is the money going to come from to fix it?

I don't know.

This was all weighing on my mind as I went about my housework yesterday. 

Frustration brewing.

"Sing the song of Twinkle." my sweet little toddler requested of me as she followed me around. 
We have our own version of Twinkle, Twinkle(from a children's CD) that I sing to her at bedtime.

As I began to sing the words, I realized that I was singing it for myself.  For my own heart.