>My sweet mother, Marner, Rachel, mom….is moving in with us and for those of you that have actually seen my home you are now saying, “huh?”, but God is good. I need to say that a lot lately, that is a side note.
I worked for years to get away from my mother, was out of the home on and off through out adolescence and on my on young, pretty independent even younger. Our experiences were those of two people surviving pain together and independently often at the hands of the same people/person. We did….survive, but not without scarring and deep bruises to our spirits. For the last few years God has graciously begun to redeem our relationship, to heal our hearts and to give me a heart of forgiveness and hope. My mom is not well, she has struggled with lung and ear issues for years and while surviving the first 50 years of her life in addition she worked, alone, to provide for me, during a season. Pain doesn’t disappear and hurt has not been allowed to be covered with me in the most recent past, I have been forced to deal with it. I am grateful. The dealing with it and continuing to deal with it has put our family in the position, to once again defy the odds of the American Dream and re-shape the family, to how God intends it to be. So here in our small 1500 sq. ft. home, where I have said it is more like camping ….hot and sticky and you never sure what you are going to eat, we have put up curtains and made a room, moved kids around, mopped a floor and started transferring my moms life directly into ours, to make a new ours. DJ proclaimed upon looking at the twins new room “wowee, a biggest tent ever.” We have always let the kids enjoy building sheet tents in the house, I guess this will be an extension of the Great Adventure of always Having and Being just enough….with tent/forts in the dining room.
Pictures will come
Just enough space.
Just enough time.
Just enough of me….to get us by.
Always Just Enough of Him.

>If people really know who I am, the experiences I have endured, enjoyed or ultimately allowed to shape me they will not like me or accept me. If people really know the stories this life carries, the real stories, the ones that keep me up at night and that others fear, they will send me packing.
This is what I tell myself, this is sometimes what I believe.
I was an open book, now I am guarded book.
Sure I tell you my stories, some of them, with color and tone and hope….but you don’t get the details. You don’t need them, really, not in this forum, besides…..you wouldn’t like me…..right?
We all have a story.
My story today IS….we are looking to join our local church we have been at for over 3 years. I am told we are loved, accepted and wanted. I say to myself, you don’t know my story. Me the talker, the teller on my self, had a small panic, okay a large panic upon the announcement that we would meet with some of the elders and place membership. Mortified, I decided my husband shouldn’t be such a leader after all. This all followed my sweet twin girls being baptized 2 weeks ago, surrounded by this family of friends who said they really love us. Surrounded by relationship I realize(d), I still worry.
I don’t have any deep thoughts on this, know answer in the conclusion. I am just putting it out there. I believe somewhere in me that you may be fine with the conclusion of my story thus far, and even good with the sketchy details, but goodness forbid you ever need the details and you will (not maybe, but will) change your mind. It has happened you know!?.
This are my thoughts and this is my story today….no conclusion.