So, unless you have been living under a rock, (admit it, for a split second that sounded kind of appealing, didn't it?) you have heard the news that the swine flu has arrived in Central Illinois. Morton, to be exact.
Up until this week-end I really hadn't been obsessing about the flu...it was still in that far off place of Not Here. But for some reason, on Sunday night I was hit with a wave of fear and panic..while my kiddos are basically healthy, Ethan especially might be susceptible to complications, due to his history of asthma. And yesterday, when I woke to the news that H1N1 had been confirmed in two Morton schools, I had to face the fact--I was scared. And I HATE to be scared, especially when it comes to my family.
I kept busy all day, but that nagging, 'something's not right' feeling was there under the surface, well,nagging me. Finally, I found a quiet spot and started the discussion.
"God, I am scared. What if my kids get this flu? They say even healthy kids can actually die from it. The vaccine isn't available for two more weeks and they might be exposed right now, today!"
After a few monents of this kind of dialogue, I sensed God responding.
"Debbi, what did you do this morning when you took the kids to school?"
I assumed He wasn't referring to the part where I said, "Sorry, guys, we are out of yogurt, you will have to take these cookies for 'healthy snack time'. Look, they have peanut butter in them. That's healthy. Kind of."
I thought harder. Oh, yes. "I prayed," I replied. Every single morning on the way to school, we pray for God's protection and blessing on our family. If I even get near the end of the driveway without starting the prayer time, one of the kids will pipe up from the back seat, "Pray, mom!" Sometimes we even pray for random people that pop into our minds (so if you are especially blessed on any given day, maybe you made our hit list that day.:^)
"And did you trust Me with your kids when you dropped them off today?"
"Yes."
For a moment I thought about ALL of the things that could happen in a day; actually, in a split second. Every day as I pray for my children, I trust that God will protect them from all those possibilites. If I didn't have that trust, I would be tempted to wrap them in soft blankets and hide them in the house with me all day. Where they would be safe...maybe. I would NEVER have delivered Alex to the wilds of Minnesota, to attend college. He would be here with me, taking on-line classes. He could turn on ESPN and watch all those 'other' athletes clear the hurdles.
But we can't live that way. 2 Timothy 1:7 says, "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
As I contemplated this scripture, I sensed God speaking again.
"Debbi, this threat is not new to me. And it is no harder than anything else that I protect them from every day." I suddenly had a picture in my mind of angels rushing around heaven in a panic..."Hurry, there's a new disease and we aren't ready!"
Not likely.
For the first time in days I felt peace settle back where it belongs. Matthew 6:34 says, "Don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself..."
I knew that the same God who was whispering peace right now was going to be there tomorrow...and the day after...and the day after that...
It's a matter of trust.
Blessings!
Debbi
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
A Mouse Tale...
Yesterday was one of those days that starts bad and heads south from there. I won't bore you with the details, but around 3:00 pm I began to feel like there was a cosmic 'kick-me' sign on my back. Finally, at 5 pm I sat down with Ethan and Kate at the kitchen table to start 'our' homework. (funny, I thought I finished my homework...around 35 years ago!)Anyway, Ethan suddenly asked, "Hey, mom, what is that noise?"
Scritch, scratch, scritch...please, God, please...no...
But it was true; we had a mouse in our house.
As one we jumped up from the table and literally knocked each other over heading for the door. Ethan was first, with Kate on his heels; then I looked down and realized I had no shoes. First rule of defense with a mouse...always wear your shoes. I turned back to grab my tennies and Kate called desperately from the garage..."Mom, what are you doing...come on!" I waved her on..."Run baby, save your selves! I swear I'll find you!" (Name that movie)
We eventually rendezvoused at the van. Ethan and Kate had already buckled themselves in their seats, anticipating a wild ride out of town, no doubt. "What are we gonna do, mom?" Ethan asked. I handed back their Science notes that I had grabbed on my way out the door. Nothing is allowed to distract us from homework. Nothing. "Study for your tests," I instructed, "I'll call Daddy." I grabbed my cell phone which I had somehow thought to bring along and called Phil. Fortunately, I happened to catch him at Wal-mart. "Buy mousetraps," I said tightly when he answered.
A few minutes later Phil's car pulled in the driveway. "Mom, I think Dad is laughing at you," Kate said. Phil approached the van, waving a bag that held the mousetraps. I rolled down the window. "You know, you are setting a very bad example," Phil smirked, nodding at the kids huddled in the back seat.
"I don't care," I said. And at that moment it was true. "Now, make it dead."
Ok, about here you are wondering why I am so terrified of a sweet, harmless little mouse. That's really another story for another time...in my defense I can only say that I have felt the pitter-patter of sharp mouse feet ON MY BODY several times in my life. It has scarred me; emotionally, if not physically.
A few moments later Phil emerged with the news that there was no mouse to be found, but he had set the traps just to be safe. (And because he has been married to me for 31 years and knows the drill by now.) I have been known to move out of our home if a mouse is on the loose, and stay away til it is gone. It is a very deep scar...
"Maybe you need professional help," Phil suggested. When I didn't answer he handed me the credit card. "Let's have pizza so you don't have to be in the kitchen anymore than necessary."
Twenty minutes later, Kate and I walked back to the van with our order. As I balanced the smaller pizza boxes on top of the larger one, I reached for the door, assuring Kate, "I bet you that mouse is long gone by now. And see, we even got pizza out of the deal. Let's get home and a have a relaxing evening!" With those words I opened the door...and one of the pizzas hit the pavement...
A few minutes later I tentatively walked into the kitchen. Phil stood at the counter, smiling. "Right after you left I went to the freezer to get the ice tray and realzied that one of the kids must have left the freezer door open just a bit. The freezer was making a very strange sound...kind of a loud scratching noise...." His voice trailed off and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. "No mouse...just defrosted food."
I saw a certain amused look cross his face...one that I recognized...one that I hadn't seen for almost 25 years. The last time I saw it was the night I called Cilco about a downed power line that I could hear crackling near our back yard. But there was no downed power line. There was however...
our neighbor's bug zapper...
Blessings!
Debbi
Scritch, scratch, scritch...please, God, please...no...
But it was true; we had a mouse in our house.
As one we jumped up from the table and literally knocked each other over heading for the door. Ethan was first, with Kate on his heels; then I looked down and realized I had no shoes. First rule of defense with a mouse...always wear your shoes. I turned back to grab my tennies and Kate called desperately from the garage..."Mom, what are you doing...come on!" I waved her on..."Run baby, save your selves! I swear I'll find you!" (Name that movie)
We eventually rendezvoused at the van. Ethan and Kate had already buckled themselves in their seats, anticipating a wild ride out of town, no doubt. "What are we gonna do, mom?" Ethan asked. I handed back their Science notes that I had grabbed on my way out the door. Nothing is allowed to distract us from homework. Nothing. "Study for your tests," I instructed, "I'll call Daddy." I grabbed my cell phone which I had somehow thought to bring along and called Phil. Fortunately, I happened to catch him at Wal-mart. "Buy mousetraps," I said tightly when he answered.
A few minutes later Phil's car pulled in the driveway. "Mom, I think Dad is laughing at you," Kate said. Phil approached the van, waving a bag that held the mousetraps. I rolled down the window. "You know, you are setting a very bad example," Phil smirked, nodding at the kids huddled in the back seat.
"I don't care," I said. And at that moment it was true. "Now, make it dead."
Ok, about here you are wondering why I am so terrified of a sweet, harmless little mouse. That's really another story for another time...in my defense I can only say that I have felt the pitter-patter of sharp mouse feet ON MY BODY several times in my life. It has scarred me; emotionally, if not physically.
A few moments later Phil emerged with the news that there was no mouse to be found, but he had set the traps just to be safe. (And because he has been married to me for 31 years and knows the drill by now.) I have been known to move out of our home if a mouse is on the loose, and stay away til it is gone. It is a very deep scar...
"Maybe you need professional help," Phil suggested. When I didn't answer he handed me the credit card. "Let's have pizza so you don't have to be in the kitchen anymore than necessary."
Twenty minutes later, Kate and I walked back to the van with our order. As I balanced the smaller pizza boxes on top of the larger one, I reached for the door, assuring Kate, "I bet you that mouse is long gone by now. And see, we even got pizza out of the deal. Let's get home and a have a relaxing evening!" With those words I opened the door...and one of the pizzas hit the pavement...
A few minutes later I tentatively walked into the kitchen. Phil stood at the counter, smiling. "Right after you left I went to the freezer to get the ice tray and realzied that one of the kids must have left the freezer door open just a bit. The freezer was making a very strange sound...kind of a loud scratching noise...." His voice trailed off and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. "No mouse...just defrosted food."
I saw a certain amused look cross his face...one that I recognized...one that I hadn't seen for almost 25 years. The last time I saw it was the night I called Cilco about a downed power line that I could hear crackling near our back yard. But there was no downed power line. There was however...
our neighbor's bug zapper...
Blessings!
Debbi
Friday, October 2, 2009
Laundry day...
(author's note: This goose-bump-inducing story is true. God is amazing enough on His own and doesn't need my help to prove it. Read on... :^)
The year was 1981 and I was late for work. Not a new occurance--that had happened in 1980, also. And 1979...well, you get the idea.
It was 12:30 and I was due to start my shift at the book store at 2:00 p.m. I had been running late all day as a matter of fact, due to an emotional distraction. I had recently been involved in a serious disagreement with a friend, and had just found out some new facts in the situation which showed that I was actually..um...well...wrong.
I hate when that happens.
Although I had apologized to my friend, I had spent the morning feeling really rotten. I was so mad at myself for assuming facts not in evidence (too much Law and Order)that I just couldn't seem to get past the feeling of guilt,condemnation and just plain yuck.
It didn't help my mood when I went to the closet to get the slacks I was going to wear to work. I laid them on the bed and immediately saw a massive grease stain on one leg. I picked up the pants and rubbed the stain a little, but it was not rub-able...those pants were not going to the bookstore with me today.
I hurried to the kitchen to grab some stain remover to soak the pants; if I left them soaking all day, at least I could wear them tomorrow. As I opened the cabinet door, I began to hum a song; by the time I returned to my bedroom, I was singing the words out loud (surprising, since I wasn't in a singing mood)
"My child, my child, why are you crying
You can't add one thing to what's been done for you
I did it all while I was dying
Rest in your faith, my peace will come to you
For when I hear the praises start, my child,
I want to rain up on you
blessings that will fill your heart...
As I sang that beautiful Keith Green song, I reached down for the greasy, stained slacks and sang the next line:
"I see no stain upon you..."
The stain was gone. Totally. I turned the slacks over in my hands, no stain. I even turned them inside out. No stain. The stain that had been there just a moment before was completely wiped away, with no evidence that it had EVER been there!
I heard the echo of those last words I had sung..."I see no stain up on you." and then God spoke to me:
"Debbi, I want you to remember this miracle clearly, for the rest of your life. You see, you always want to leave your sin 'to soak' for a while. You rub at it with your guilt and feelings of condemnation, trying to loosen it up for Me. But I don't need your help, as you can see. I will take the stain away, right before your eyes, if you will let me." My hands shook as I placed the slacks on the bed and took in the weight of those words.
I can't say I have never again tried my own brand of cleanser...but when I start to bring it out, I picture a box labeled GRACE...and I put mine away.
Blessings, Debbi
The year was 1981 and I was late for work. Not a new occurance--that had happened in 1980, also. And 1979...well, you get the idea.
It was 12:30 and I was due to start my shift at the book store at 2:00 p.m. I had been running late all day as a matter of fact, due to an emotional distraction. I had recently been involved in a serious disagreement with a friend, and had just found out some new facts in the situation which showed that I was actually..um...well...wrong.
I hate when that happens.
Although I had apologized to my friend, I had spent the morning feeling really rotten. I was so mad at myself for assuming facts not in evidence (too much Law and Order)that I just couldn't seem to get past the feeling of guilt,condemnation and just plain yuck.
It didn't help my mood when I went to the closet to get the slacks I was going to wear to work. I laid them on the bed and immediately saw a massive grease stain on one leg. I picked up the pants and rubbed the stain a little, but it was not rub-able...those pants were not going to the bookstore with me today.
I hurried to the kitchen to grab some stain remover to soak the pants; if I left them soaking all day, at least I could wear them tomorrow. As I opened the cabinet door, I began to hum a song; by the time I returned to my bedroom, I was singing the words out loud (surprising, since I wasn't in a singing mood)
"My child, my child, why are you crying
You can't add one thing to what's been done for you
I did it all while I was dying
Rest in your faith, my peace will come to you
For when I hear the praises start, my child,
I want to rain up on you
blessings that will fill your heart...
As I sang that beautiful Keith Green song, I reached down for the greasy, stained slacks and sang the next line:
"I see no stain upon you..."
The stain was gone. Totally. I turned the slacks over in my hands, no stain. I even turned them inside out. No stain. The stain that had been there just a moment before was completely wiped away, with no evidence that it had EVER been there!
I heard the echo of those last words I had sung..."I see no stain up on you." and then God spoke to me:
"Debbi, I want you to remember this miracle clearly, for the rest of your life. You see, you always want to leave your sin 'to soak' for a while. You rub at it with your guilt and feelings of condemnation, trying to loosen it up for Me. But I don't need your help, as you can see. I will take the stain away, right before your eyes, if you will let me." My hands shook as I placed the slacks on the bed and took in the weight of those words.
I can't say I have never again tried my own brand of cleanser...but when I start to bring it out, I picture a box labeled GRACE...and I put mine away.
Blessings, Debbi
Monday, September 21, 2009
Baalam's Donkey ..and SpongeBob
About eighteen months ago, I specifically sensed God telling me I was to get a passport. My first thought was 'where in the world (literally!) am I going?' I researched the process and discovered that a passport costs $100.00 The fact that I didn't HAVE an extra $100.00 gave me an excuse not to pursue it...I decided that when ( read : IF!) I was invited to travel out of the country, I would take care of it then.
A few months later, I was contacted by Pastor Lucas from Mumias, Kenya. He and his wife,Jane, pastor New Hope Fellowship Church, and their ministry includes an orphange that cares for around 30 children. Pastor Lucas had found me from my Child of Promise website and asked me to come to speak at a 3 day pastors conference, then travel to the villages and orphanges where they minister.
I was overwhelmed! I tried to explain to Pastor Lucas that I had never addressed such a large group, and my speaking opportunities had been focused on women's groups only. What on earth would I have to share with these African pastors?? I wasn't ready for such an opportunity; the cost alone was prohibitive. Besides, I didn't have a passport...
Eventually, I convinced Pastor Lucas and Jane to invite someone else for the conference, but we have started a wonderful friendship. Their ministry continues to grow and I love to receive pictures of the children in the orphanage.
I want them ALL!
I may never know if I was supposed to accept that invitation. But I do know this...it's time for the passport.
A few weeks ago I found the passport application sitting on my desk, untouched for almost a year. As I started to file it away, I again heard God's whisper to get the passport. I checked my ministry bank account...and filed the application away. It just seemed too presumptious to apply for a passport when I had no place to go! And not only was the fee not available, but what if I DID get an invitation to travel? HOW would I pay for that? What about my family if I left for a week --or even TWO?!
A few days later I was walking through my living room, picking up the carnage from Ethan and Katelynn's mad dash to school. The television had been left on, tuned to their favorite show, SpongeBob Squarepants (please don't judge me :^) As I worked, suddenly I heard one of the characters, Squidward, say very clearly, "Oh here's my to-do list...I thought I lost it. Number One: Get a Passport!"
Okay. I don't know if God has ever compared YOU to Balaam (remenber the prophet in the old testament who was disobeying God and was about to meet an angel, up close and personal?) Balaam's donkey could see the angel standing with a drawn sword, but Balaam didn't see it (him?) Anyway, the donkey kept trying to keep Balaam out of the path of the angel to save his life, and Balaam kept hitting the donkey with a stick. Finally, God gave the donkey the ability to speak and he said, 'Hey, Balaam, what's with you?" or words to that effect. The point is that God used a donkey to get the prophet's attention.
I got Squidward.
This week's to-do list:
1. Get a passport
I don't know where in the world (literally) I am going, but this time I will be ready. Because if I don't obey, next time God might decide to use Barney.
A few months later, I was contacted by Pastor Lucas from Mumias, Kenya. He and his wife,Jane, pastor New Hope Fellowship Church, and their ministry includes an orphange that cares for around 30 children. Pastor Lucas had found me from my Child of Promise website and asked me to come to speak at a 3 day pastors conference, then travel to the villages and orphanges where they minister.
I was overwhelmed! I tried to explain to Pastor Lucas that I had never addressed such a large group, and my speaking opportunities had been focused on women's groups only. What on earth would I have to share with these African pastors?? I wasn't ready for such an opportunity; the cost alone was prohibitive. Besides, I didn't have a passport...
Eventually, I convinced Pastor Lucas and Jane to invite someone else for the conference, but we have started a wonderful friendship. Their ministry continues to grow and I love to receive pictures of the children in the orphanage.
I want them ALL!
I may never know if I was supposed to accept that invitation. But I do know this...it's time for the passport.
A few weeks ago I found the passport application sitting on my desk, untouched for almost a year. As I started to file it away, I again heard God's whisper to get the passport. I checked my ministry bank account...and filed the application away. It just seemed too presumptious to apply for a passport when I had no place to go! And not only was the fee not available, but what if I DID get an invitation to travel? HOW would I pay for that? What about my family if I left for a week --or even TWO?!
A few days later I was walking through my living room, picking up the carnage from Ethan and Katelynn's mad dash to school. The television had been left on, tuned to their favorite show, SpongeBob Squarepants (please don't judge me :^) As I worked, suddenly I heard one of the characters, Squidward, say very clearly, "Oh here's my to-do list...I thought I lost it. Number One: Get a Passport!"
Okay. I don't know if God has ever compared YOU to Balaam (remenber the prophet in the old testament who was disobeying God and was about to meet an angel, up close and personal?) Balaam's donkey could see the angel standing with a drawn sword, but Balaam didn't see it (him?) Anyway, the donkey kept trying to keep Balaam out of the path of the angel to save his life, and Balaam kept hitting the donkey with a stick. Finally, God gave the donkey the ability to speak and he said, 'Hey, Balaam, what's with you?" or words to that effect. The point is that God used a donkey to get the prophet's attention.
I got Squidward.
This week's to-do list:
1. Get a passport
I don't know where in the world (literally) I am going, but this time I will be ready. Because if I don't obey, next time God might decide to use Barney.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Write On! June 15, 2009
“All who are skilled among you are to come and make everything the Lord has commanded. Exodus 35:10 This scripture verse was spoken to the craftsmen and artisans commissioned to build the tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant.The spirit of the words, a calling for ‘all who are skilled” to come and make everything the Lord has commanded, can apply to your painting, music, writing, drawing, acting, dancing, needlework, landscaping or composing.”
The scripture and statement above are part of the third chapter of the book CREATIVE CALL, by Janice Elsheimer. The subtitile of the book, An Artist’s Response to the Way of the Spirit, describes the deep insights in this wonderful book. The Creative Call is both inspirational and very practical.It is filled with advice to the ‘artists’ among us. One chapter,Making Time, contains this statement:“Only when we know that developing our gifts is intimately related to our spiritual development, and only when we’ve made the commitment to do something about that in our lives, will we have the dedication to make the time we need to develop our art."
The author goes on to give a worksheet designed to help you sort out your priorities and find the precious time to devote to your art. But the most liberating part of this book, for me, was the simple statement, “ God’s gifts are no accident. If we have been given artistic gifts, the shape of our lives needs to include the use of those gifts.” Janice Elsheimer’s insights in the Creative Call released me from the guilt I have always felt when I was writing. I’ve come to realize that even my writing can be an act of worship, as I respond to that ‘God given call’. I encourage anyone who ever dreamed of ‘creating’, whether it was music, poetry, art or even basket weaving, to get a copy of The Creative Call, by Jancie Elsheiner.
It just might change everything.
Blessings!
Debbi
The scripture and statement above are part of the third chapter of the book CREATIVE CALL, by Janice Elsheimer. The subtitile of the book, An Artist’s Response to the Way of the Spirit, describes the deep insights in this wonderful book. The Creative Call is both inspirational and very practical.It is filled with advice to the ‘artists’ among us. One chapter,Making Time, contains this statement:“Only when we know that developing our gifts is intimately related to our spiritual development, and only when we’ve made the commitment to do something about that in our lives, will we have the dedication to make the time we need to develop our art."
The author goes on to give a worksheet designed to help you sort out your priorities and find the precious time to devote to your art. But the most liberating part of this book, for me, was the simple statement, “ God’s gifts are no accident. If we have been given artistic gifts, the shape of our lives needs to include the use of those gifts.” Janice Elsheimer’s insights in the Creative Call released me from the guilt I have always felt when I was writing. I’ve come to realize that even my writing can be an act of worship, as I respond to that ‘God given call’. I encourage anyone who ever dreamed of ‘creating’, whether it was music, poetry, art or even basket weaving, to get a copy of The Creative Call, by Jancie Elsheiner.
It just might change everything.
Blessings!
Debbi
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Much ADO June 10, 2009
I was recently diagnosed with ADD--(Attention Deficit Disorder, for anyone who just landed on this planet :^)
I tried the medication my Doctor prescribed, and the first day was a revelation. I really DID have ADD!! I walked around my home and actually focused on the work at hand, without thinking of the 99 million OTHER things I needed to be doing instead. It was heavenly...for about two days. But the side effects (for me at least) were unacceptable, and I had to bid good-bye to that other 'orderly' world.
I am back in Debbi Land again, and I have decided to make lemonade. (When life hands you lemons, etc). I have decided I have ADO--Attention Directed to Order. I will make my ADO work FOR me; I make lists in the early morning when I am more focused, and then I turn myself loose to follow my natural ADO. I work on the house for 15 minutes, then move to writing, then answer e-mail, play with the kids, plan dinner, always checking my list for something that catches my attention. Basically I accomplish MOST of what is necessary to my day, without that nagging sense of failure that says, "This isn't how it's supposed to work!" Apparantly, it is how "I" am supposed to work, so I am officially embracing my ADO---how about you?
Watch out for falling Blessings!
Debbi
I tried the medication my Doctor prescribed, and the first day was a revelation. I really DID have ADD!! I walked around my home and actually focused on the work at hand, without thinking of the 99 million OTHER things I needed to be doing instead. It was heavenly...for about two days. But the side effects (for me at least) were unacceptable, and I had to bid good-bye to that other 'orderly' world.
I am back in Debbi Land again, and I have decided to make lemonade. (When life hands you lemons, etc). I have decided I have ADO--Attention Directed to Order. I will make my ADO work FOR me; I make lists in the early morning when I am more focused, and then I turn myself loose to follow my natural ADO. I work on the house for 15 minutes, then move to writing, then answer e-mail, play with the kids, plan dinner, always checking my list for something that catches my attention. Basically I accomplish MOST of what is necessary to my day, without that nagging sense of failure that says, "This isn't how it's supposed to work!" Apparantly, it is how "I" am supposed to work, so I am officially embracing my ADO---how about you?
Watch out for falling Blessings!
Debbi
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Just Kidding! June 9, 2009
Well, we are finding our summer rhythm. Ethan and Kate are out of school and Alex is home from college for the summer. Alex is taking a class at ICC and Kate has tutoring twice a week, so we do have some structure to our days.
Ethan has entered a new, exciting phase: experiments! They are everywhere...especially in the bathroom which houses a huge, complicated water tower. You pour the water into a styrofoam cup that has a hole in the bottom--the water flows through the hole into another styrofoam box that I think held Ethan's hot dog from Bob's Dairy dream two days ago. The water travels on through four other containers before it pours into the sink. So inspired...so creative...so MESSY!
I remember many years ago, when Alex's kindergarten teacher visited our home. Alex had constructed a cardboard city that took up a good part of our family room. Several of his other creations were displayed aorund our home. The teacher looked at me and said, "I am so happy that you encourage creativity, even if it makes your house messy!" Hmmmm....
Looking aorund my house right now, I can honestly say I must have the most creative kids in the world!
Don't outrun your blessings today!
Debbi
Ethan has entered a new, exciting phase: experiments! They are everywhere...especially in the bathroom which houses a huge, complicated water tower. You pour the water into a styrofoam cup that has a hole in the bottom--the water flows through the hole into another styrofoam box that I think held Ethan's hot dog from Bob's Dairy dream two days ago. The water travels on through four other containers before it pours into the sink. So inspired...so creative...so MESSY!
I remember many years ago, when Alex's kindergarten teacher visited our home. Alex had constructed a cardboard city that took up a good part of our family room. Several of his other creations were displayed aorund our home. The teacher looked at me and said, "I am so happy that you encourage creativity, even if it makes your house messy!" Hmmmm....
Looking aorund my house right now, I can honestly say I must have the most creative kids in the world!
Don't outrun your blessings today!
Debbi
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