People have asked me at various times since we moved here if we feel safe. I recently got this question from a good friend after mentioning that I'd gone out walking early that morning. I had to laugh. Truth was, I did get creeped out a bit...that is, when I got to the "nice/white" section of town and found that I was completely alone between empty, two-income homes and a construction site. If I'd been grabbed up, no one would've even heard me scream. Back here on my side of town, I got waves, smiles, and even a big hug from one our middle schoolers waiting at the bus stop. So, the way I see it --the scariest neighborhood is the one full of strangers with tightly-drawn blinds and manicured lawns. But it's not just me...
Sunday nights have become a sort of family worship time for us. Usually, we light a candle or two, sing along with Tim and his guitar, and then pray for families and situations in our community. This past weekend, we put the little people down for the night and then migrated to the front porch. It was quite dark as we huddled under blankets and sang and chatted. Having read the entire Little House series to our kids over the years, Tim mentioned that he felt a little like Pa with his fiddle at the close of the day. "This ain't the prairie." I chimed in. "Not the big woods either" he added. Then Mamoune said, "I'm glad it's not the big woods! If it was, I'd be scared to go outside in the dark."
Oftentimes, perception defines reality. But it's awfully fun when reality corrects our perception.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Open Letter to My Body
Dear Body,
Why have you turned against me? For 35 (soon to be 36) years I have taken decent care of you. I don't smoke or drink heavily. I give you fresh air and sunshine while protecting you from the harshest rays. I typically avoid fatty, greasy foods and occasionally even eat a plate full of spinach salad. I nurture, clean, perfume, clothe, and care for you. And I got you a good man. Don't even get me started on what he does for you. Yet you betray me. Why?
An occasional virus is one thing but this has gotten out of hand. You let down your guard in January and that stupid virus took its toll on me. Then the coughing, and the coughing, and the coughing. Then strep; then a revisit from my ovarian cyst; and most recently a possible bout with my gall bladder. Did I mention the coughing? Seriously!? I thought you were my friend.
You've lost your stamina. You've lost your ability to endure stress. You've lost your quick recovery time. And what have you gained? Girth, my dear. Nothing but girth. Darn you.
What must I do to get you back on my side? What do you want from me? A nutritious, well-balanced diet? Regular exercise? sigh...you ask a lot. I suppose I'm willing to try. But just between me and you, I better see some evidence that it's working and quickly or all bets are off, sister!
Amie
Why have you turned against me? For 35 (soon to be 36) years I have taken decent care of you. I don't smoke or drink heavily. I give you fresh air and sunshine while protecting you from the harshest rays. I typically avoid fatty, greasy foods and occasionally even eat a plate full of spinach salad. I nurture, clean, perfume, clothe, and care for you. And I got you a good man. Don't even get me started on what he does for you. Yet you betray me. Why?
An occasional virus is one thing but this has gotten out of hand. You let down your guard in January and that stupid virus took its toll on me. Then the coughing, and the coughing, and the coughing. Then strep; then a revisit from my ovarian cyst; and most recently a possible bout with my gall bladder. Did I mention the coughing? Seriously!? I thought you were my friend.
You've lost your stamina. You've lost your ability to endure stress. You've lost your quick recovery time. And what have you gained? Girth, my dear. Nothing but girth. Darn you.
What must I do to get you back on my side? What do you want from me? A nutritious, well-balanced diet? Regular exercise? sigh...you ask a lot. I suppose I'm willing to try. But just between me and you, I better see some evidence that it's working and quickly or all bets are off, sister!
Amie
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Shower Scents
I was getting ready to wash my hair when I noticed that I was low on shampoo and conditioner. Low as in, already added water to the bottle and squeezed out the last pitiful squirt of foam. So, having exhausted the meaning of frugality I looked under the bathroom sink where I have a stash of hair products that were bought by or for me while on sale. Problem is, I don't have any sets; only random, mix-matched bottles like Ocean Breeze, Crisp Green Apple, Freesia, etc. The dilemma. What do I want to smell like? I finally settled on "Fresh Mountain Strawberry" shampoo and "Cucumber Melon" conditioner.
Why Amie, what's that delightful fragrance you're wearing?
Fruit salad.
=)
Why Amie, what's that delightful fragrance you're wearing?
Fruit salad.
=)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Post Beach Report
Oh, the beauty! Oh, the bliss! Oh, the bummer of it coming to an end. We had such an amazing time in Ocean Isle, and if you follow my facebook you should know that we stretched "Naked Friday" over several days. =)
As a mom of five there is something completely liberating about sitting in the bed with my hubby, munching chocolates, sipping a Mojito, and watching 80's music videos on television at 2 o'clock in the afternoon completely nude. I never once had to wonder if a little person was going to run into the room and a) steal my chocolates b) change the channel to another rerun of Hannah Montana or c) scream in horror and require years of therapy. Freedom! Divine freedom!
Here are some pictures and commentary from the trip (no, silly, not those pictures):
Last time it snowed at Ocean Isle was 10 years ago. Very cool timing!
Looked like the waves were coming from both directions.
Snowy seashells
Snow-beach bunnies.
Whimsy meets irony.
No tan lines for Tim!
Last year the sign said "Out for Business."
We didn't expect them to top that but they did.
Considered putting a new countdown clock here but that would just be too depressing. Perhaps it should become a bi-annual Ocean Isle retreat. hmmmm.
Monday, February 8, 2010
The Countdown Is On
In exactly 97 hours, 35 minutes, and 16 seconds (yeah, I made up the seconds part) Tim and I will be heading to our Third Annual Ocean Isle Retreat Weekend! (2008 here and here, 2009 here, here, and here.)
Childcare is in place. The reservations were made MONTHS ago. A bottle of muscadine wine, a couple of good books, and only enough clothing necessary for short public appearances will be packed up by mid-week and ready to go.
If you hear the sound of tires peeling out of the driveway Friday afternoon...assume it's us! =)
Childcare is in place. The reservations were made MONTHS ago. A bottle of muscadine wine, a couple of good books, and only enough clothing necessary for short public appearances will be packed up by mid-week and ready to go.
If you hear the sound of tires peeling out of the driveway Friday afternoon...assume it's us! =)
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Peeps on Parade
Random Snow Pictures
Little people. Big world.
The only thing bigger than her attitude...
is her hair!
You've seen Elf? Snowball fights are serious business to Nathan.
She wouldn't dare!
Oh, and this one is a bonus.We are relieved to know that if the budget ever gets too low,
Bella can totally work a Target bag!
Friday, January 22, 2010
Oh, Those Beautiful Stars
Several people have contacted us with questions about adoption, especially pertaining to orphans in Haiti. I have pondered for several days how to handle these inquiries. And alas in my hesitance, I have found a scapegoat. In the link below, you will find well-written, clearly laid out, no punches pulled, essential information regarding adoption from Haiti (or any other country for that matter).
http://markmiller.blogspot.com/2010/01/truth-about-adopting-from-haiti.html
This article will help you understand the reality of the process of adoption. Thank you Mark Miller (whoever you are)! But in addition to the paperwork, waiting, red-tape, and so on; there are also many emotional issues that must be truthfully addressed. Let me begin...with a story.
Once upon a time there was a young man who'd left his father's home in the country to embark on his own fortune in the big city. After years of toiling and working his way up the proverbial ladder, he longed for simpler days and returned to his father's farm for a time of reflection.
Late one evening the two went for a stroll through the open pasture. The young man looked up into the wide expanse of the night's sky and was mesmerized by the brilliance of the moon and the abundance of stars that seemed close enough to touch.
He spoke in near breathless excitement, "Oh, Dad! Despite all of my accomplishments and all of my wealth, I have never felt so complete as I do right now while realizing my own insignificance beneath the beauty and magnificence of the heavens. Thank you for sharing this moment of wisdom with me!"
Sensitive to the emotion of his boy, the father sighed deeply and said, "I guess there's just one more thing for me to tell you, son...
You're standing in cow mess."
Adoption isn't all peaches and cream. And sometimes you have to get the stars out of your eyes to realize your knee-deep in ... you know what.
Adoption - international adoption - international adoption of a severely traumatized orphan could be the most difficult journey you will ever experience. We brought our Haitian daughter home at 4 1/2 years of age and the first three years of her life with us nearly destroyed us. She wasn't the lone survivor of a major earthquake. You could've considered her a "normal orphan" if there were such labels. But it was hard. And while we have no regrets and that difficult journey taught us so much about ourselves and about God and His unwavering love for us --we do not want to see anyone walk blindly into the adoption process. It is dangerous for the adoptive parents and for the children.
All this to say --if you have fallen in love with these precious Haitian children, praise God! Start the process and be ready for if/when the need for homes arises. But please, let's debunk the notion that the government will (or ever should) start lining these babies up at the airport and handing them out like a PetSmart adopt-a-thon.
http://markmiller.blogspot.com/2010/01/truth-about-adopting-from-haiti.html
This article will help you understand the reality of the process of adoption. Thank you Mark Miller (whoever you are)! But in addition to the paperwork, waiting, red-tape, and so on; there are also many emotional issues that must be truthfully addressed. Let me begin...with a story.
Once upon a time there was a young man who'd left his father's home in the country to embark on his own fortune in the big city. After years of toiling and working his way up the proverbial ladder, he longed for simpler days and returned to his father's farm for a time of reflection.
Late one evening the two went for a stroll through the open pasture. The young man looked up into the wide expanse of the night's sky and was mesmerized by the brilliance of the moon and the abundance of stars that seemed close enough to touch.
He spoke in near breathless excitement, "Oh, Dad! Despite all of my accomplishments and all of my wealth, I have never felt so complete as I do right now while realizing my own insignificance beneath the beauty and magnificence of the heavens. Thank you for sharing this moment of wisdom with me!"
Sensitive to the emotion of his boy, the father sighed deeply and said, "I guess there's just one more thing for me to tell you, son...
You're standing in cow mess."
Adoption isn't all peaches and cream. And sometimes you have to get the stars out of your eyes to realize your knee-deep in ... you know what.
Adoption - international adoption - international adoption of a severely traumatized orphan could be the most difficult journey you will ever experience. We brought our Haitian daughter home at 4 1/2 years of age and the first three years of her life with us nearly destroyed us. She wasn't the lone survivor of a major earthquake. You could've considered her a "normal orphan" if there were such labels. But it was hard. And while we have no regrets and that difficult journey taught us so much about ourselves and about God and His unwavering love for us --we do not want to see anyone walk blindly into the adoption process. It is dangerous for the adoptive parents and for the children.
All this to say --if you have fallen in love with these precious Haitian children, praise God! Start the process and be ready for if/when the need for homes arises. But please, let's debunk the notion that the government will (or ever should) start lining these babies up at the airport and handing them out like a PetSmart adopt-a-thon.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Help Haiti
If you've already donated to the Red Cross or some other major relief organization...okay. But YOU SHOULD ALL KNOW that the supplies, money, and resources being sent to Haiti via the "big" companies are NOT, NOT, NOT being shared with the smaller faith-based organizations that are already on the ground in Haiti.
Those supplies are only going to government operated hospitals and the like. Meanwhile, many Christian service organizations such as Heartline Ministries are having to drive 8 hours into the Dominican Republic in order to restock their fuel, food, and medical supplies. The US government does not care that NGO's like Heartline have been serving in Haiti for 25 years or that they have transformed their offices, classrooms, etc. into emergency clinics providing transportation and care for those in the poorest areas.
The bottom line is this: I cannot tell you what the $10 you texted to 90..whatever is accomplishing in Haiti. I'm sure it's good but still. If you give to any of the following ministries ALREADY sitting in the middle of the chaos and serving their butts off (without the support of the big relief agencies)...I can not only tell you but can show you the difference your money is making.
Please, please, give!
www.heartlineministries.org
www.worldwidevillage.org
www.realhopeforhaiti.org
Help Haiti T-shirt
Those supplies are only going to government operated hospitals and the like. Meanwhile, many Christian service organizations such as Heartline Ministries are having to drive 8 hours into the Dominican Republic in order to restock their fuel, food, and medical supplies. The US government does not care that NGO's like Heartline have been serving in Haiti for 25 years or that they have transformed their offices, classrooms, etc. into emergency clinics providing transportation and care for those in the poorest areas.
The bottom line is this: I cannot tell you what the $10 you texted to 90..whatever is accomplishing in Haiti. I'm sure it's good but still. If you give to any of the following ministries ALREADY sitting in the middle of the chaos and serving their butts off (without the support of the big relief agencies)...I can not only tell you but can show you the difference your money is making.
Please, please, give!
www.heartlineministries.org
www.worldwidevillage.org
www.realhopeforhaiti.org
Help Haiti T-shirt
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Interlude of Humor
I was lamenting to Tim how badly I need to exercise.
"I gotta do something. I'm having to fight just to get into my jeans."
He responded, "yeah, and that's after throwing up for a whole day. How many viruses does it take to get you into your jeans?"
Sneaky smile from him. Evil glare and shaking of the head from me.
The boy likes to live dangerously and well, he's just lucky that I like him so stinkin' much. Now, to stop lamenting and actually start moving. ugh.
=)
"I gotta do something. I'm having to fight just to get into my jeans."
He responded, "yeah, and that's after throwing up for a whole day. How many viruses does it take to get you into your jeans?"
Sneaky smile from him. Evil glare and shaking of the head from me.
The boy likes to live dangerously and well, he's just lucky that I like him so stinkin' much. Now, to stop lamenting and actually start moving. ugh.
=)
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Play by Play
Because I'm sure you want to know:
11:00 pm -Tim throws up. Justus coughs in the background.
12:00 am -Amie throws up. Justus continues coughing and screams out for "dada."
12:30 am -Tim throws up. Amie drags herself to check on Justus. He is burning up with fever and can't breathe through his nose. I take him to the living room where Tim is still hovering over the trashcan. I try to syringe Justus' nose and give him medicine. He is crying and clingy so I take slow deep breaths hoping not to toss my cookies while soothing him back to sleep.
1:00 am -Justus goes back down.
1:30 am -Cookies tossed. Plus the added joy of workings below.
2:15 am -Tag. Tim is it.
2:45 am -Back to Amie. Tim calls from the living room sofa, "I'm sorry I can't help you."
3:15 am -Tim.
4:30 am -I agonize over the garbage can for what I hope will be the last time.
I didn't really think you wanted to know this. But it serves a purpose toward my point.
Most of you know that Haiti is dear to us. Our blog name "ourcrewinhaiti" gives a hint. And while God closed the door on our physical presence there...our hearts could not be anymore intertwined from this distance. The earthquake and the aftermath have become a gauge by which we measure almost every moment of life.
At somewhere around 11:53 pm as my heart rate was increasing and I was breaking with a pre-vomitous sweat, about the time I would normally be giving God the what-for --seriously, do we both have to throw up at the same time? Can't you cut us some slack? What kind of raw deal is this? --all I could think was "One of my best friends on the planet is stepping over dead bodies. This is nothing."
I dread the day that we turn on the evening news and Haiti is no longer the top story, if even in the top three. And yet I know there are those who have already said to themselves "man, I wish they'd put something else on for a change." Even this week, as I turn off the TV or walk away from the computer I think how unfair that I get to tune it out for a time and process what I've seen; unlike those who are in the middle of it with little to no reprieve.
I dread the day that churches stop caring, collecting, or donating. I'm already frustrated by how few churches seemed to interrupt business as usual to spend a significant time in corporate prayer for their brothers and sisters in Haiti.
I am fully aware that life must continue. My mission field was not destroyed by an earthquake and in fact, 26 of them showed up in my yard today. I couldn't be so annoyed by their cluelessness about the world beyond their square mile block that I stopped loving and teaching and ministering to them.
Life goes on. But it is my sincere hope that I be willing to endure a thousand stomach bugs and a thousand sleepless nights if it keeps my heart and prayers centered on those (in Haiti, in the persecuted church, in war-torn Iraq & Afghanistan, etc) who are encountering far worse.
11:00 pm -Tim throws up. Justus coughs in the background.
12:00 am -Amie throws up. Justus continues coughing and screams out for "dada."
12:30 am -Tim throws up. Amie drags herself to check on Justus. He is burning up with fever and can't breathe through his nose. I take him to the living room where Tim is still hovering over the trashcan. I try to syringe Justus' nose and give him medicine. He is crying and clingy so I take slow deep breaths hoping not to toss my cookies while soothing him back to sleep.
1:00 am -Justus goes back down.
1:30 am -Cookies tossed. Plus the added joy of workings below.
2:15 am -Tag. Tim is it.
2:45 am -Back to Amie. Tim calls from the living room sofa, "I'm sorry I can't help you."
3:15 am -Tim.
4:30 am -I agonize over the garbage can for what I hope will be the last time.
I didn't really think you wanted to know this. But it serves a purpose toward my point.
Most of you know that Haiti is dear to us. Our blog name "ourcrewinhaiti" gives a hint. And while God closed the door on our physical presence there...our hearts could not be anymore intertwined from this distance. The earthquake and the aftermath have become a gauge by which we measure almost every moment of life.
At somewhere around 11:53 pm as my heart rate was increasing and I was breaking with a pre-vomitous sweat, about the time I would normally be giving God the what-for --seriously, do we both have to throw up at the same time? Can't you cut us some slack? What kind of raw deal is this? --all I could think was "One of my best friends on the planet is stepping over dead bodies. This is nothing."
I dread the day that we turn on the evening news and Haiti is no longer the top story, if even in the top three. And yet I know there are those who have already said to themselves "man, I wish they'd put something else on for a change." Even this week, as I turn off the TV or walk away from the computer I think how unfair that I get to tune it out for a time and process what I've seen; unlike those who are in the middle of it with little to no reprieve.
I dread the day that churches stop caring, collecting, or donating. I'm already frustrated by how few churches seemed to interrupt business as usual to spend a significant time in corporate prayer for their brothers and sisters in Haiti.
I am fully aware that life must continue. My mission field was not destroyed by an earthquake and in fact, 26 of them showed up in my yard today. I couldn't be so annoyed by their cluelessness about the world beyond their square mile block that I stopped loving and teaching and ministering to them.
Life goes on. But it is my sincere hope that I be willing to endure a thousand stomach bugs and a thousand sleepless nights if it keeps my heart and prayers centered on those (in Haiti, in the persecuted church, in war-torn Iraq & Afghanistan, etc) who are encountering far worse.
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