We met for coffee, doughnuts, and girltalk. It is a favorite passtime and one that does not occur nearly enough. "For your birthday," she says. 

I open the card, sweetness and smiles.

I peek in the giftbag. A very unusual punch bowl with lid is inside. It is filled with colorful hearts. Red and yellow parchment with words that empower written on every one of them. It was the year I turned 50, my year of Jubilee, so not too long ago. Fifty heartfelt messages filled the bowl. 

She told me that she prayerfully considered her words. 

I did not get to keep the punch bowl when we left Kansas, but I did tuck these little heart shaped notes in a drawer for safekeeping. I gave the punch bowl back to her . . . empty. Hmmm, maybe I will cut out some little heart shapes and send them by post.

"I can call you for prayer," one little red heart says. 

I can call her for prayer, too. "SOS! Please pray!" My dearest friends know the code I use for help. Whatever would I do without these dear people?

I share this gift idea because Valentine's Day is coming soon. Would you like to bless someone you love? Perhaps you can be creative coming up with your number . . . "we've shared ______ Valentine celebrations together" or something like that. 

Everyone should have a friend like Christina! "I just wanted to hear your voice," she says when she calls. Smiles.

I hope you have a very warm and happy February, filled with fun and thoughtful friends.

Blessings~

 

Christmas decorations have all been put away. Memories of our last celebration, voices echo in my mind. 

Great times together, laughter, stories, fun, the glue that holds a family tight,  shared holiday spirit.

I know that you are not thinking Christmas thoughts right now . . . most of us are thinking "spring". 

"Come soon," we say, "bring your flowers and your lovely foliage. We long for you!"

I have been sharing journaling ideas and I have a couple for the holidays that I want to share with you. Perhaps you would like to use one of them next Christmas.

One year we made a book for a special family member. I asked the kids to write their favorite childhood memories, the setting, Grandma Bunches house. They wrote them and sent them to me and I compiled them into a book. Scotty and I wrote a few memories down, too. We haven't done this for my mom, yet, but I hope to someday. It was a wonderful gift . . . the kind of gift that money can't buy. Special memories, recorded. My kids really got into it and wrote some great stuff. She especially loved the ones that tickled her funny bone.

Our family also has a tradition, a Christmas Dream Box. I have a beautiful Christmas box, a place where we store our dreams.  We all sit around the family table after our huge, festive meal. I give all of the kids a piece of blank paper and a little box of crayons. They are instructed to draw a picture of one of their dreams. It is very quiet while everyone is drawing. When the drawing is complete and the last artist has laid down his/her crayon, we share our dreams with one another. It has been a beautiful way of getting to know one another better. 

You might not think our Christmas dream box much of a journal, but it really is. We look back on our past dreams and see if any have come to pass. Some of them have. It has been a special way to love, encourage and pray for one another. We get to know what is stirring on the heart of each one. Sometimes we get to help make the dream come true, which cannot happen if you don't know what the dreams of another are.  

I have known folks who never tire of Christmas . . . they think about it every day of the year. I'm not really one of those, but I thought that you might enjoy some ideas for next Christmas . . . or, hey, Valentine's Day, Easter, and Mother's Day are coming! Who says you have to wait for Christmas to start a dream box or a memory book? I say go for it . . . whenever the time best suits you.
Happy family time! 

Blessings! 

A journal for dreamers . . . those with vision and faith . . . a bucket list journal. 

When the thought comes to mind, "I want to go there! I want to see that! I should do that sometime!" I run to my bucket list journal as soon as possible and write those thoughts down. 

Entry number 1, "Watch the old beautiful movie, White Christmas, with my dear cousin Anne someday." She and I share a passion for this delightful holiday movie and I would love to watch it with her. I picture us sitting before the tv in our jammies, sipping hot chocolate topped with  marshmallow froth, Christmas lights twinkling in the corner of the room, fireplace hearth aglow. Perfect ambiance!

I used to keep mental notes of all the adventures I wanted to have, but I realized I was forgetting, so I started a little journal to capture my dreams. The bucket list is in the front of the journal, and I hope to record everything on my list that becomes a chapter in my life in the back of the book. 

Some of the things on my list are simple, easier than others.  Number 21 seems a far out desire "Walk on the Great Wall of China". I don't know if that will ever happen, but the Lord has ways and I believe it is possible. I know that it won't happen tomorrow. I'm okay with maybe . . . someday.

This is one of my favorite dreams . . . share a day, weekend, or week in Charleston, South Carolina with my daughter, Ashli. Please, Lord! 

Do you have a bucket list? I would love to hear about one of your dreams.Please share . . . your dream might need to go on my bucket list, too.

I will be back next week . . . Lord willing. Have a very happy weekend. I hope it is "a bucket list entry fulfilled" kind of weekend for you!

Blessings~ 

There is a little game that I used to play with my children. I hesitate to tell you these things because I suppose they might be misinterpreted. 

I would tease my children with, "Who are you? Where did you come from? I don't believe I've ever seen you before? How did you ever get in my car? There must have been a mistake?" 

One of them would invariably reply, without one bit of amusement in their voices, "Mom, we know you are our mom! You have a dent on your nose!" 

It was kind of like playing Seuss', "Are You My Mother?" reversed. I would play these little games to lighten the mood sometimes. 

The journal that I'm speaking of today does not boast of one treasured quote from my children. I got this idea from Oprah . . . drumroll, please. This is a journal of amazing quotes of other people. A scrapbook of words. If I remember right, Oprah said that she kept her quote journal in the bathroom, next to the toilet paper. Mine is on my desk right beside my computer. 

A bit of wisdom from Fred White:

"Our lives are steadily unfolding narratives which would generally make rather tedious reading. But the more we do with our lives, the more we enrich them, the more substantive our stories become. Of course what we "do" with our lives need not be overt adventure. A powerful insight, communicated well, can improve lives, enhance beauty, and even change history."

We can learn so much from others. Some of the quotes in my journal were spoken by the famed, some from dear friends, the not yet famous folk. All have been like well trained archers with bow in hand and hit the bull's eye of my heart with their wisdom time and time again. My journal is almost full. I must shop for it's twin. 

I do not write about the dent, which is a scar on my nose from way back in the day, or any other deliciously sweet words that my children have spoken. Those words are too precious for here. They are recorded in more noble places. 

Listening is a wonderful part of living. It is an art, my friend, and one that I think must be cultured. I hope that you will treasure the words of others, tuck some of them away for a rainy day. You never know when you will need a stored phrase to lift you on a gully washer, down kind of day. 

My quote journal is like a dear friend to me. What would you grab if your house was burning? My quote journal? Yes, it's a keeper!

Do you have a quote journal? I would love for you to share one of your favorite quotes with me. I still have a few blank pages to fill.

Blessings~

As we were packing up life as we knew it, seems like only a few days ago, I found a pile of notebooks that were filled with prayers that I had written over the course of time. Some of my petitions had been written in the good times . . . mountaintop seasons. Grief, sorrow, suffering were written across every page of a few of them. I tore the pages from these journals, all of them, the wonderful and the hard, and shredded them with my hands. Written for God's eyes only, no one else need ever see. Healing has come. I'm trusting that if there was one bit of wheat worth salvaging on those pages surely the Lord has it stored away in a heavenly vault somewhere, and let all the needless words, the chaff fall through His fingers.

Spiritual journals have acted as a personal aide to me. Sometimes the true health of soul hides deep in the heart. Writing has a way of searching the hidden crevices, exposing truth to oneself. They are best written with Bible on one knee and journal on the other. I have never let there be much separation between the two lest something get off kilter.

That is one type of spiritual journal, the kind where we tell all to our savior. We can trust Him with our deepest woes and wonders . . . He understands as one who has been there. Some call it a prayer journal. It would be easy to write pretend prayers in this journal . . . or keep the Lord at arms length with writing only "Thee and Thou" prayers in every paragraph. However, healing comes with transparency. "I don't like this!" "I need that!" "He doesn't understand!" "Help!" Paragraphs that begin with "Thank you" are some of the most powerful. Troubles have a way of lifting when our focus is on the thanking. We may enjoy sweet fellowship and communion with God here. He lets us be who we are, He blesses our honesty with a beautiful gift . . . the grace to be with Him. 

I have written in other kinds of spiritual journals. The kind where you write a scripture then hi-light the portion that ministers to you. Such journals have stretched my inner self. Exercise of sorts.

Spiritual journals are so wonderful! If  you only have one journal that you write in, I hope it is a spiritual one. It can be temporary like a spiral notebook or bound embossed leather. 

The purpose of this journal is not to leave a legacy in writing, it is to fashion a relationship with the Lord, heart to heart.  Experience Divine encounter,if you will.

Would you like to keep a prayer journal, but don't know how to begin? I would begin with saying, "I'm not sure what I am doing here, Lord, could you help me? I want to grow closer to You." In fact, I think a few of my entries began just that way, so I am confident that He will meet you right there. He gives us grace to want to, then He helps us carry through and carry on. Praise Him!

Have a wonderful day!

Blessings! 

"Our creator knows just what we need. God who made food for our provision and pleasure made the table for our souls." Joanne Thompson, Table Life

  Once upon a time, I thought of the perfect gift idea . . . a cookbook journal. Treasured recipes laced with family stories. I have made one for one of my new daughters, Ashley. I'm working on more for the other kids. It does require a bit of time.They hold such entries as this . . .

"Scotty's Aunt Shirley made this wonderful frozen fruit salad. She was one of the most beautiful women I ever knew. She had a way of caring that was warm and lovely. Her kind and gentle ways made you feel loved when she was in the room. I wish you could have known her, you would have loved her." 
  
I didn't just fill the book with recipes, I wove tales between cup and teaspoon portions.

"This is my Aunt Dottie's Cover the Mountain Carrot Cake, it made me famous in the little town in Kansas that I still call home. She has a love for the cooking arts. I have learned a great deal from her, in the kitchen and beyond."

"This recipe originated in the kitchen of my Grandma Terry. You would have loved her to the moon and back. She always had a tune in mind and a project on the back burner. Banana pancakes with homemade syrup was her specialty. I cannot think of her home without thinking of breakfast at her tiny kitchen table. She always had orange juice in a little juice pitcher and served it in little juice glasses to match. She would read the Bible to us before breakfast and Grandpa would pray. It was my home away from home when I was growing up."

A journal of family and foodstuffs, with purpose of passing tradition. 

"This recipe belongs to my mom. It is one of the best recipes in the world. You will love! My mom and dad always tended a large vegetable garden when I was growing up. Mom would can into the wee hours of the night. I do not know how she did it all! We lived on her canning through the winter. It was some of the best food I've ever had in my life." 

"This recipe of Bread Pudding is from Grandma Bunch. She and I make a great team in the kitchen. I busy myself with the stirring and the mixing,and she comes right behind with a tea towel in hand for the cleaning up, or vice versa. We enjoy each other in our work. She knows how to find a great recipe and tweak it to perfection."

When writing the Bread Pudding recipe in Ashley's cookbook, I forgot to list an ingredient . . . the eggs. Since it is a custard style dish, it was a tragic mistake, one we've since remedied. I do recommend double checking your entries. Perhaps you are more precise than I. 

 "Both of Caleb's grandmas are really good cooks. You will find that a lot of my best recipes come from them. I learned so much from their years of experience." 

 Heritage. 

So much of our family time was spent with us seated around a table. "What was your favorite thing that happened today?" I would ask our children. "What is your favorite color?" or "Did you notice the rainbow at the edge of the garden today, so vibrant,wondrous?" Scotty would always end the meal by saying,"Good supper, momma!"  We treasure the memory of it, our family at table, and I want to help my children remember, too. Aroma, taste, and fellowship. Home.

I thought you might enjoy one of the recipes. This is Aunt Shirley Windler's amazing frozen fruit salad.  I suppose it would be better served in the heat of summer, but I love it any time. I hope you enjoy!

Frozen Waldorf Salad by Shirley Windler

2 eggs, slightly beaten
1/2 cup sugar
pinch of salt
1/2 cup pineapple juice

Combine above ingredients, cook stirring until thick - cool.

Add:
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup drained crushed pineapple
1/2 cup chopped nuts
2 unpeeled apples - chopped

Fold in 1 cup whipped cream and freeze. Thaw in refrigerator several hours before serving.

I hear it is supposed to get really cold again. Perhaps it is not the time for this frozen fancy. Perhaps you can put it on your calendar to make for your July 4th celebration. We all need something delicious to look forward to. 

Have you ever made a cookbook journal? I would love to hear your ideas? 

Happy eating and living! With blessings! 

Oft a tale is repeated, the ones that are powerful and true, where awe and wonder tango. This is one of those stories.

I was inspired by the Lord to write a journal for my daughter and give it to her before she went on a mission trip to India. It was absolutely, positively one of those times when I knew that I had been given an assignment from the Lord. She would be gone for 90 days plus a few, so I would write ninety or so entries. It was one of the easiest missions my hands have ever been upon. His grace to do was upon me.

Prayers, scriptures, family funnies, thoughts about her, messages about home, this and that of life with us. A few pages were written by her dad, her grandparents, her brothers. Her little brother, who was only eight at the time repeated his thoughts every single time, "Ashli, come home right now!" She was already at the missionary school being trained for the trip and he was missing her so! Two or three pages had Family Circus cartoons on them. "Who does this remind you of," I would say.

She arrived in India and within days she contracted typhoid. Death seemed nearly around the bend. For days and days and days threat of it lingered. She was terribly far away.  How we ached for her! It was one of the most difficult times of our entire lives. I cannot think or write of it without many tears. It is always that way when our children suffer, when they endure life and death battles, no?

A friend on the mission team sat with her, wiped her brow, fed her, ministered to her day and night. Every day she read Ashli an entry from the little journal that we made.

She remembers it as something that helped her to hang onto life, every day, little thoughts of home breathing endurance into her.

She looked like a concentration camp victim. Death was fighting for her soul. The journal kept reminding her that she had so much to live for.

"My mission trip to India did not seem very effective . . . what could I do? Typhoid depleted my strength, left me with nothing to give."

"We all learned to pray in new ways, Ash. We celebrate your life! Our gratefulness has reached new heights. Our trust in the Lord has been stretched deep and wide. Your mission was appointed, and we, the ones on this side of the world are the ones who needed changing," I say,with the heartbeat of the Lord still echoing in my ear. He was my comfort, the One who whispered "it is well" in my soul, and got me through. I am one who knows Him better now.

A ninety day journal written with someone else in mind. I have written a couple of similar ones a few times since, but this one was the first and probably one of the most important assignments I will ever have in my life. Thank you, Lord, for so many things, thank you! Thank you!

I hope this entry does not leave you sad. She did return home to us, she is healthy now, "and they lived happily ever after" can be written here.

Have a wonderful day, my friends. Be aware of little nudges to do little things . . . it might not be such a little thing after all. 

Blessings!