mysterious blessings

This year, as I finally get to my taxes, I am reminded of what a difficult year this has been. As the housing market took such a crash, the construction industry also did. My husband runs heavy equipment for a living and jobs have been few and far between. Joe has never had trouble finding work, but this year was the first time that there was truly nothing happening and time and time again he was sent out on a job that lasted a week or two and then ended. We have struggled to get through the year barely scraping by.

Somehow we did manage to survive our financial hardship and as I reflect I am amazed to realize the blessing that God gave us during the year. Joe spent so much time at home while he was unemployed. He really had a chance to spend quality time with his kids and really enjoy them. He and I had so much time to talk and work on things that have needed mending for a long time. We are closer than we have ever been during our 7 year marriage. I don't know many dads that get to spend the kind of time with their kids that Joe got to spend this year. It truly was a blessing to have him home so much. It's funny the way that God works things out sometimes. Prayers are answered in mysterious and unexpected ways. Sometimes, you don't realize that God has given you this amazing blessing until after the fact, but when you do, you are humbled and awed.

Friendship

Over the past several years I have been praying diligently for God to bring me a good friend. I have never had very good luck with friends and there are very few people that I actually consider true friends. I have always thought of myself as an exceptionally good friend to others and haven't quite figured out why I cannot find someone to truly rely on myself. To me, a friend is someone who is loyal beyond measure. Someone who would do anything to help a friend in need. Someone who always has the time to talk, and someone who listens with an empathetic ear.

I was recently angry at someone that I thought was a real friend, but soon learned was using me. It is unfortunate, because I really did care about her and thought of her as my closest friend for a long time. I felt burned and disappointed. As I grew bitter toward her, I prayed yet again for God to bring me a real friend and not someone like the last person whom I only thought was my friend. Suddenly, I felt God tugging on my heart, telling me that He felt the same way about our friendship that I felt about my last one. God is the friend that I imagine that I am to others, but I am the friend to Him that I despise. I do not listen. I do not spend time with Him as often as I should. I often come to Him with requests, leaving that as the extent to my daily prayer.

How can I expect God to answer this prayer I have had for a friend, when I am treating Him the exact way that I do not want to be treated. I am thankful that God always finds a way to remind me that He is there, that He wants to spend time with me and that He desires that I find time for Him. My new prayer will be that I am continually reminded of the amazing friendship that I already have in Jesus and that I can be the friend to Him that, I expect my friends to be to me.

A rock and a hard place

I have heard so many discussions over the years about Public school vs. Private school or homeschooling. I never saw the issue with public schools since I made it through the system without any problems. My son Zachary is in 1st grade this year and I am beginning to see a problem with the public school. I feel like he is being pushed so hard to meet "the standards" that he is loosing a lot of his childhood. I don't have a problem with homework, but the amount that is sent home each week is appalling. He is only 6 years old and instead of spending the majority of his time outside playing after school, he is sitting inside doing homework.

I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I cannot afford the luxury of a private school and I do not feel qualified to home school since I have no background in education. If I allow him to spend less time on his school work, I am afraid that he will not meet the standards, but if I do not allow him to rush through his work, then I am afraid that I am not giving him the precious time he has left to just be a kid. It is exciting to watch Zachary reading so well and learning so much, but I really feel that they are pushing kids today far beyond what is necessary. Being a child is supposed to be the time of your life. A time without pressure or anxiety. A time to be carefree. We all know that once you grow up, feeling like this is usually just a memory, but will my children ever have a memory without pressure with the way things are in the current school system. How can I as a parent, make sure that they do, and at the same time, keep them on track with the standards? I do not want my son to miss out on being a kid.

Small town

My husband took a job in Ely, NV last month. My son Zachary is finishing the school year in California before we join my husband in Ely. I am especially excited about moving to Ely because this will be the first time I have ever lived in a small town. I love for Joe to mail me a copy of the Ely times each week so that I can dream of this small town life that I am not yet accustomed to. The Times only comes out on Wednesdays and it is only a few pages. Most of the news is devoted to what Elys small number of students (elementary through high school) are accomplishing. An entire page lists the churches and their service times. These are people who really care about each other.
Last week my husband asked me to call and find out if a particular hotel had weekly rates because he is currently staying in hotels until the rest of the family comes up. I called the hotel and an old man answered the phone. I asked him about the rates and he told me that they did have weekly rates, but he just didn't have any rooms at the moment. I told him that my husband worked at the mine up there and that I would call back another day to see if they had rooms because He needed a place to stay. The man quickly replied, "Well in that case I have a lot of rooms! I only rent to truckers and miners! Tell your husband to come in and I'll make him a great deal." I wanted to laugh out load because he was just so cute. This man is devoted to his small town life and does not want anything else seeping in and ruining it. "How late can he come in tonight to check in?" I asked. "Well ma'am, I usually go to bed at 8:30." Wow, what a difference from Las Vegas (my last home) where everything is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
I can't wait for the feeling of quiet, real friendship, caring people, and a slower paced life. Although my husband thinks I will hate the fact that the nearest Target or Walmart are over 200 miles away, I'm looking forward to shopping at the local mercantile, taking my kids to the soda shop, and going to see the one movie they play at the small theater every month. Slowing down a bit sounds just fine to me. If you would like to check out what Ely is all about, visit www.elytimes.com You'll be fascinated!

Home

In the past 8 years I have moved 12 times. I have no military affiliation as some may assume. My moves, my families moves are just life for us. In the first few years of my marriage, I despised these moves as I had grown up living in the same house and the same city my whole life. Now, as I prepare for my 13th move I am content because I have learned over the years that home is wherever my family is. This apiffany struck me a few years ago when I found myself living in a 32 foot motor home with my husband, my 3 year old son and my 16 month old daughter. The motor home was in a city called Hemet and we were there during the summer when temperatures reached at least 110 degrees daily. The motor home was impossible to keep cool during the hottest parts of the day and it was much cooler to sit outside in the shade. I was feeling so sorry for myself one afternoon when the toilet we had backed up and the whole cramped area smelled of rotten eggs. It must have been 120 degrees out that day and I just sat outside and cried while my kids ran around and played as usual. It was then, watching them, that I knew even though I felt homeless, my kids did not. They had their mommy and daddy there with them, a roof over their heads, food to eat and toys to play with. As I watched the joy in them, despite our living conditions, that is when I realized that it does not matter if I live in a mansion or a motor home. Without my family, I would be truly homeless, no matter where I was, but as long as we are together, I am home.