The Story of Us

Recently I found a story I wrote for our kids. It's the story of "DandL" that I wrote long before any little noodle bearing our resemblances was in existence. Realizing that the only copy of this written story could get lost someday, I'm going to share it here. But not just for that reason.

Today marks 17 years (!!) since the day Derek asked me to be his girlfriend, clarifying that he meant to ask me to be his wife when the time was right. When I told him yes, I was saying yes to forever. I had no idea the actual weight of that "yes," although I suspected it had a good amount of it. And I'm glad I didn't know. Because traversing this crazy life together with the Holy Spirit as our ultimate guide is so much sweeter. The things I would've changed had I known ahead of time would have ruined everything. Thank You, Jesus, for Your higher ways!

Without further ado (or any editing)...

The Story of Us

Once upon a time there was a wide-eyed, long-haired girl and a blonde haired, runny-nosed boy. The boy and the girl were neighbors in a place called Indiana. The boy and the girl were friends and spent their days riding big wheels and playing in the sandbox with the rest of the neighborhood boys and girls. Sometimes the boy would chase the girl all around her yard and try to steal a kiss.

1989

One terrible day, the boy's parents packed up a huge truck and took the boy far away to a place called Pennsylvania. The girl was very sad.

While the boy was in the far away place called Pennsylvania, he went to a sports camp. (This boy is very good at sports.) While at this camp he talked to an adult about Jesus Christ. The adult told him that Jesus died to take away the boy's sins and if the boy gave his life to Jesus, he would get to go to Heaven someday. So the boy prayed to Jesus with the help of the adult and from that day on began to live his life for Jesus.

Meanwhile, the girl who still lived in the place called Indiana was also learning about Jesus at church and at school. One day a few years down the road, the girl also went to a camp. (This was not a sports camp. The girl is not very good at sports.) At this camp the girl learned that she was not a very good girl and that she did not deserve to go to Heaven someday. So the girl bowed her head by herself and told Jesus she was sorry and asked Him to forgive her. Jesus did forgive her and so the girl began to live her life for Jesus.

So the boy and the girl, while very far away from each other, grew up learning more and more about Jesus and loving Him more every day. They learned more about Him by reading their Bible and going to church. They talked to Him through prayer. They showed Him they love Him by helping at church and telling their friends about Him.

The boy and the girl only saw each other a couple of times over the next 15 years! But after those fifteen years, the boy was passing through the place called Indiana with his family. He and the girl were all grown up now. They were already out of high school! They talked for a little bit, and because they were old enough, they started to like each other! Sadly, the boy had to leave again for his place called Pennsylvania.

The boy could not stop thinking about the girl so he nervously picked up the phone and called the girl's dad. He asked him if he could take the girl on a date. The girl's dad liked the boy so he said yes. Then the boy picked up the phone again, even more nervous this time, and called the girl. He asked her to go on a date with him and she said yes!

First date at the BBC banquet: 2003

So the girl drove many hours to the far away place called Pennsylvania to go on a date with the boy. She liked the boy very much. They talked about what they had been doing all those years that they were apart and learned all about how they both gave their lives to Jesus and were still living for Him.

A little while later the boy got on a place and flew way up in the sky all the way to the place called Indiana. He took the girl up to the top of a huge mountain made of sand. The boy and the girl sat down on the top of the mountain and the boy asked the girl for forever. The girl prayed and asked God if she should say yes as the boy awaited her answer. Then the girl said yes because she knew Jesus wanted them together!

July 13, 2003: The day on top of the dunes.

So the girl packed up her things and moved all the way to the far away place called Pennsylvania. Together, the boy and the girl learned more about Jesus at school and they showed Jesus that they both loved Him by helping at church together. They grew closer to Jesus and closer to each other.

Baptist Bible College 2003ish

Finally, one cool spring morning, the boy and the girl went to church as usual, but this Sunday was a very special Sunday. The boy got up in front of the whole church and then went down on one knee. He asked the girl for forever, but this time he gave her a diamond ring as a promise! She said yes!

May 1, 2005

Two days before Christmas, your mommy and daddy got married. They told all of their friends and family that they were going to stay together for as long as they lived and they were going to spend their whole lives showing Jesus that they love Him. And they lived, and continue to live, happily ever after.

December 23, 2005

So that boy and that girl want you to know all about Jesus and how He should be your whole life. Through the Bible, He tells you everything you need to know about how to live for Him. And when you give your life to Him, He puts together your love story and so someday when you are much, much older, you can tell your children a story very much like this one.

2020

For Believers: The Truth Hurts

The Word hurts.

If reading your Bible doesn't hurt once in awhile, you're reading it wrong.

I don't like that statement any more than you do. But if you believe in the God of the Bible, you have to also believe what the Bible says. And it is clear:

For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires. Hebrews 4:12

Now, I haven't personally experienced a super sharp sword slicing my joints apart from my marrow, but I suspect it is painful. Maybe even the kind of pain that puts childbirth to shame. The kind of pain that could even end life. 

Does the Bible not say that when we believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, the old is gone and the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17)? Do we think this is a pain-free process?

Does not my word burn like fire? Says the Lord. Is it not like a mighty hammer that smashes a rock to pieces? Jeremiah 23:29

Scripture wasn't written to make you feel all warm and gooey inside. It is Truth, and as the old adage goes: Truth Hurts. It penetrates to our most sensitive spots. It burns us up and breaks us to pieces. It brings us to the end of ourselves where all we are is a pile of ashes. 

It is only here, at the end of ourselves and in a posture of repentance, that we can truly see the Word for who He is:

Jesus is the Word.

It's super annoying when unbelievers try to tell Christians what Jesus would or would not have done in any given situation. But you know what's waaaay worse? When Christians agree. 

If the narrative bouncing around in your head is eerily similar, if not exactly the same, to the narrative permeating the world, notice the huge red flag in front of your face. God's wisdom is entirely different from the world's (1 Corinthians 1:25; Isaiah 55:8-9). And God's way is narrow. Few tread the way to life. If you find that you're swimming along with the masses, it's time to do some serious evaluating.

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. Matthew 7:13-14

That said, who do you believe Jesus is? Have you bought into the worldly narrative that Jesus was some kind of super friendly pushover who always left people feeling happy and unoffended? Because he wasn't that kinda guy when he roamed the earth. And he's still not. He stepped on toes everywhere he went. He never "itched ears" with fluffy nonsense. He always spoke truth. And people--just like us--killed him for it. (Check out this post about times Jesus was not nice.)

Revelations tells us that when Jesus returns, out of his mouth will be a two-edged sword and his face will shine bright as the sun (1:16; 2:12). When Jesus speaks, people will die. The Word hurts.   

John tells us that Jesus IS the Word. He IS the truth. ("I am the way, the truth, and the life..." "Sanctify them in the truth. Your Word is truth.") If we call ourselves believers, that means we recognize that we are sinners--ashes--in desperate need of a Savior. It hurts to admit such a thing. It hurts to believe Jesus. 

There is hope in the Word.

I'm a "truther." (Surprised?) And as such, I'm sure I'm coming across a little... in-your-face. So I'm going to interrupt myself here and talk about another very important aspect of the Word (aka Jesus): Hope. 

Yes, the truth hurts. But why? Yes, it cuts deep and burns us up and breaks us to pieces and examines our dark and ugly hearts. But why? 

To change us.

To make us more like Jesus. 

To equip us to reach the world for God.

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work. 2 Timothy 3:16-17

The Refiner's fire hurts. But when the Bible says something that pokes us all uncomfortable like, we can rest in the hope that it is God at work in us, to will and to work for his good pleasure. Oh what beauty He can create when we are moldable clay! 

We hold the Word.

Here's the crux. The climax. The grand finale. The real reason I'm writing this post.

We, as believers, wield the sword that is the Word of God.

We are not commanded in Ephesians 6 to put on the full armor of God so we can be pacifists. We aren't supposed to strap on the belt of truth then cover it in glue and glitter to make it more pleasurable for the eyes. We aren't supposed to plaster our breastplate of righteousness with stickers or exchange our Gospel shoes for fluffy socks. There's flaming darts coming at us! A down-filled pillow isn't gonna cut it. We must put on the helmet of our salvation, not a rainbow colored hat.

Guys, it's time to pull out that sword--the Word of God--and wield it. Not flail it around. Not leave it motionless at our side. Not stuck in the scabbard where it won't poke anyone. Wield it with skill. With precision. With know-how. And if you don't know how, learn! 

When you learn the Word, even when it hurts, then you will see when falsehoods are running amuck whether that be in Christians around you or even within your own heart. You will spot the false teachers that are, by the way, in abundance. Test everything and hold fast to what is good (1 Thessalonians 5:21), even especially when it hurts.

I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming [is already here!] when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. 2 Timothy 4:1-4

 

Why Hiking with Kids is Worth the Headache

I feel the need to clear the air... hiking can be a headache.

We've always been the hiking kind of family. During the lockdown, we hiked in abundance. My pictures of such adventures were also in abundance. You know what else was in abundance? My annoyance.

Since I'm typically the one behind the iPhone, I don't have picture proof so you'll just have to take my word for it. I get snippy, frustrated, and sometimes loud when we're hiking with the kids.

"Hurry up!"

"We are not going that way."

"You're fine."

"Don't touch that!"

"Slow down!"

"I'm not finding you another walking stick."

"Stop hitting your sibling with your walking stick."

"No more walking sticks!"

"It's just a bee."

"Please don't grab the snake!"

"Stop fighting!"

"Keep moving!"

"No, we're not done yet. We're going to hike forever."

"Rooogeeeeeerrrr!"

In spite of all this, we really do love hiking! And have found it more than worth the headache that sometimes ensues. I feel the need to share this because I don't want all my nature-y pics to lead you to thinking that hiking is all kicks and giggles. It's important, in my opinion, to be prepared for the potential reality of hiking with kids. Personally, I have a much easier time enjoying life with my littles when I leave my rose-colored glasses at home.

Now that we have that established, let's get on to why on earth hiking is still worth the effort. I believe everyone should be hiking, especially while the kids are young. Here's why:

Hiking gleans a love of nature.

No, this does not happen immediately. And there will be some hikes that leave you feeling like nature has been ruined for everyone. Don't give up! Because each walk through the woods really is making a difference. Point out interesting things. Listen to the sounds. Let them venture and climb and touch. 

I've noticed that not only do we as a family have a stronger appreciation for nature as we hike more, we also are less fearful. The kids were literally chasing a snake the other day. Without fail, they all come home a dirty mess. Venturing off the path or following a faint deer path is their favorite. This stuff used to add to my headache, but even mama is learning and growing. It actually fills me up now to see them explore the scary and unknown... usually.

Hiking is healthy.

Nature is so stinkin' good for your health! If you are still quarantining and you're not getting outside, you are shooting yourself in the foot. Hiking is an amazing way to take advantage of the healthy benefits of getting outside. You're breathing in the miraculous properties of fresh air, soaking up all-natural vitamin D, and getting exercise that is essential for both physical and mental health. 

Let your kids take their shoes off once in awhile. Even join them! Grounding is a thing that we should all be doing. Remember! You're not hiking to be done hiking. You're hiking for the experience and all the benefits. This means take your time and let your kids linger. It's good for everyone's health!

Hiking now means easier hiking later.

Hiking with littles is hard. Straight fact. But hiking with teenagers could be just as headache-inducing, if not more so! If you put off hiking while the kids are young, all you're doing is putting off the inevitable frustration. Teenagers whine more, complain more, mope more than 5 year olds (typically). And are much harder to distract with pretty flowers and toads. If you make hiking a priority now, when your littles think climbing a tree or wading in a creek is the greatest thing ever, your future self will thank you.

Hiking doesn't involve screens.

As wonderful as technology is, I get super frustrated with how obsessive my kids can get! It's exhausting. In fact, I get super frustrated with how obsessive I can get! Hiking is an opportunity to completely leave screens at home. If you're in the habit of handing your phone over to a complaining child, first of all, STOP. Second, leave your own phone in an inside zipped pocket of your backpack where you'd have a really annoying and inconvenient time getting to it. Emergencies only! Make screens a non-option while hiking and you'll be surprised how much fun you all have! (You could go my route and not have anything on your phone your kids care about so they never ask for it. Then you can get some great pics!)

Hiking is a family affair.

We all glean the benefits. We all enjoy ourselves! (Outside of those moments...) You can't have a kid too little or too grown up for a hike (despite what they may think). And did you know that kids are much more likely to open up to you when they don't have to sit and look you in the eye? The random conversations about theology and corona and poison ivy and remember-whens we've had on our hikes are alone enough to make hiking worth all the effort.

Sure, there's headaches. But we keep going, gleaning, growing. It's worth it. I promise.

Happy Hiking!

The Benefits of Homeschooling... for Mamas!

By far the most common reasoning I personally hear for not homeschooling is something along the lines of:

I don't have enough patience to teach my kids.

This is God's sense of humor. Why? Because I am one of the most impatient people you know.

Sure sure sure. I've grown A TON over the years (and homeschooling is a major reason! More on that in a sec) but among those closest to me (husband, kids, parents, siblings) I am actually known for my lack of patience. Seriously, ask Erik.

And yet I have people tell me on a regular basis that they couldn't do what I do because they don't have the kind of patience I supposedly have.

See the irony? God chuckles every time, I just know it.

I've been realizing lately how beneficial homeschooling has been for me personally. I homeschool for my kids and for our family and ultimately in obedience to God. But, true to the way God works, I experience beautiful benefits as the mama. Bonus benefits of homeschooling, if you will. And I am going to share them miscellaneously here:

Benefit for Mama #1

I am a more patient person.

I did not become patient and then start homeschooling. Oh no. I started out as impatient as ever. Trust me there have been some u-u-u-ugly moments... er... days. But I can truly and honestly look back at those early days of pushing academics on my poor 3 year old and see how far God has brought me over the last 8 years. 

It's certainly been through growing in the Lord on a daily basis that I've grown over the years. But God has also used homeschooling in a huge way to mold me more into what He desires me to be. More into the Mom my babes need, the wife my husband deserves, the sister and daughter and friend He created me to be. Homeschooling played a key role.

So next time you want to say to me, "I'm not patient enough to teach my kids," don't be surprised when my answer is, "well, then, that's exactly what you should be doing!"

Benefit for Mama #2

I enjoy my kids.

They can certainly annoy me. I'm an impatient person, remember? It is not entirely uncommon for me to hide. But when I come out of my hiding place, usually after some serious conversations with God, I can see my kids for the joy that they are.

Their hilarity. Their uniqueness. Their constant growing and changing and becoming. Homeschooling gives me abundant opportunity to truly know my babies. What tickles their funny bone. What motivates them. Where their passions lie and what stokes those passions. I get the zoomed in view of God working in their hearts. It is the most beautiful view and I can't get enough of it.

Benefit for Mama #3

I'm a less selfish person.

Derek and I got a weekend away for my birthday. We hiked for hours and miles and miles and hours. We watched too many movies and ate whatever we wanted. We were unhindered by all things small child. It was glorious! In my mind, I was going to return home refreshed and with a heart full of patient compassion for my brood of littles.

Wow was I wrong.

The first day back from our little vaca was reminiscent of a nightmare, and my very own selfishness fueled the disaster. Being with my kids day in and day out has been exactly what I've needed to keep that selfishness in check. Now, I'm not saying don't get away! Absolutely do!! But learn from my foolishness and remember that life almost never goes exactly how you imagined it. I thought we'd come home to kids who were thrilled to have us home and at the ready to serve in any way I desired out of pure love for me. At the time I wouldn't have realized that was my expectation, but after our nightmare day, that became disgustingly clear. I can't even imagine what kind of self-absorbed human I would be if I didn't have a handful of miniatures reminding me on the daily that life isn't all about me.

Benefit for Mama #4

I'm constantly learning.

Who knew I loved learning?! Certainly not me! Sometimes I am convinced that education is wasted on the young. I spent my entire growing up years in school and yet I'm certain I've learned more homeschooling my own kids than I ever did in school and college. Seriously, I look forward to reading our history curriculum every single day. And long division... is actually fun!

I'm also always learning more about how to teach my kids. I've become a little obsessive about reading about reading. The more I learn, the more I crave to learn. Would I have so much opportunity to learn if I didn't have the motivation of teaching my kids? Would I have the desire? Maybe you would but I wouldn't. I know myself and I know that I would be caught up in all the other things that go along with mom life. Learning would take a back seat to doing every time in my world. I'm grateful that learning is a major part of my life, and I thoroughly enjoy doing it right alongside my babes.

Benefit for Mama #5

I'm a more disciplined person.

I'm resisting the urge to laugh out loud at this. I'm entirely too undisciplined. But I am more disciplined than I would be if we weren't living the homeschool life. Having to set the schedule myself for our family is quite the disciplined way of life. I'm the type who would like someone else to tell me what to do and when to do it so I can fight against the system and do my own thing. When I'm the one having to tell myself what to do and when to do it, I'm fighting myself. This is hard. Frustrating. Stretching. And beneficial for this undisciplined human.

With days almost always wide open before us, I'm faced with the constant decision to tackle it with vigor or throw it out the window. And then there's all the options in between. I fail. A lot. And then I learn and grow and become a more disciplined person.

Benefit for Mama #6

The homeschooling community!

I love love love talking curriculum with fellow homeschool mamas. Gleaning tricks and tips for teaching my various littles from women far wiser than me is a favorite. In just about any path of life you can find community. I'm just partial to the homeschool one. We aren't better than the next community. We're just us. And I love us. Spending time with God-fearing, like-minded mamas fills me up to overflowing every single time. Humans were made for community. For fellowship. For connection. If you don't have that, my little homeschooling community always has open arms!

Sometimes the idea of homeschooling feels a little like dying to self for the sake of the children. And, well, it is. But God, in His infinite awesomeness, pours out abundant blessings when we die to self in obedience to Him. And then the dying feels a whole lot more like living than living ever felt before.

This list is by no means exhaustive. I didn't even mention the part about kids doing the chores around the house! But, if you are an impatient, selfish, undisciplined mama like me who is experiencing the tug of the Holy Spirit to pursue this homeschooling thing, I'm here for you! I'm cheering you on toward these benefits and many, many more. And I can't wait to welcome you into the homeschool life with open arms!

How We Survived Washington D.C. with Kids

We have officially reached a new chapter in our lives. Our babiest is 3 and she gets to remain the babiest forever. This means that the actual baby stage of raising kids is behind us. And that Amber will forever be treated like the perfect little princess that she is.

 And this also means that we have just a tiny bit more freedom to travel!

This past Christmas we went out to PA to spend time with family. And since we were already going to be all the way out East, we couldn't resist a trip into Washington DC, which served as the kids' Christmas present.

This was not our first traveling experience with all five babes so we had a pretty good idea of what we were getting ourselves into. But Derek and I both walked away having gleaned wisdom on what to expect on such adventures in the future. It only seems like the friendly things to do to pass along some of that wisdom:

Plan, plan, plan

I am not a planner. In a perfect world of my own making, we would fly by the seat of our pants all day every day. Thankfully, my other half is significantly wiser and is a thorough planner. While my pants may work just fine as a guide if we had all the time in the world and no weary, little feet, a plan is truly your survival guide with kids.

So Derek planned out our time, where we would visit, where we would park, and how to get to each of these places. He scheduled a tour of the Capitol building (the White House is "closed" over Christmas and New Years, FYI) and knew ahead of time what to expect while there (no food or drink!). He had all the places we wanted to hit the most mapped out, with bonus things ready in case we were up for it.

Here's the thing about planning: it has to be flexible! More on that in a sec.

AirBnB will save you

Here's why: 

You'll actually get sleep because you won't all be shoved into the same tiny room.

You'll pay way less for way more.

We really hate sleeping in a hotel. As nice as a pool is (and sometimes we are willing to suffer the hotel thing just for that), sleeping 7 in one room is a nightmare. And to pay for a suite... well an AirBnB is much more economical. 

Ours was fantastic! We had an entire house to ourselves and plenty of space for all! Kitchen. Laundry. Disney+. And it cost the same as a hotel room. So you're welcome for that advice.

So will Uber

We hadn't intended to use Uber but have you ever been to DC? So.Much.Walking! By the end of the day, the littles (and the grownups) just didn't have it in them to walk all the way back to the van. We spent roughly the amount on Uber that we would have on the metro. But we got picked up where ever we wanted and brought directly to our van in record time. 

We ended up calling an Uber 3 times and every time they were super nice and professional. So much safer and less stressful than dragging the kids through the metro system in the dark of night! Which, by the way, begins around 4 in the middle of the winter.

A stroller is a MUST

You probably are aware that DC involves a lot of walking. But let me just tell you, it's more than a lot. It's more than you think. It's always more. Praise the Lord, my MIL had a double stroller that we could plop our littlest two into. And our coats and snacks and water bottles. And bags for throw-up because we happened to need those...

Throw out your expectations

We have learned this over and over since becoming parents. Things will never go as planned with kids. So we went into our trip to DC having already thrown out most of our expectations. Derek had his plan but we knew it was simply a guideline to keep our sanity. Otherwise, it was completely throw-out-able. Flexible enough to be totally different when all was said and done.

Our trip actually went mostly as planned, except...

Get rid of the rest of your expectations

We did a fraction of what we had hoped to do. In spite of PERFECT weather the entire time, there simply wasn't any way to fit everything in. And by everything, I mean the very few things we were determined to get to. 

DC cannot be done in two days. 5 kids or no kids. Can't be done.

So we were very selective about where we went, and still didn't manage all the places. I realized that I had been viewing this as a once-in-a-lifetime trip, but when I let go of that, I could let go of the rest of my expectations. Even if it was the only time we'll ever go as a whole family, I had to recognize that we weren't missing out. Quite the contrary. The entire adventure was purely gift, unmet expectations and all. And that's the perfect segue into...

Treasure your people more than the places

It would have been so easy to lose it on my kids on multiple occasions while we walked (and walked) around DC. I could have ruined the fun for us all by dwelling on the handful of things I had really wanted to do but we simply couldn't make happen. If Derek or I had started grouching about sore feet or gave in to any sort of complaining, the whole trip could have been an utter disaster. But, by the grace of God and the help of each other, we were able to (for the most part!) savor the moments with our littles. Invest in their hearts and souls more than their academic knowledge of all things DC. 

Our kids won't likely remember all the things we saw, did, and learned (I already forget half of it!), but we believe they'll be able to look back on this trip with better memories than the statues and paintings in the Capitol or the pretty First Ladies dresses or the details of the flag of Fort Henry. They'll remember being loved and treasured while learning what it means to honor and respect our great country and those who made it worthy of those things.

That was our ultimate goal, anyway, and I pray it was accomplished!

Go ahead and use this wisdom for your next trip to Washington D.C. or anywhere for that matter. Where have you traveled with kids lately?

  

Verbuary Challenge: Day6&7

Guys, I don't have time for this! I have commissioned work that has to be done and I'm sitting here writing flash fiction.

I'm claiming it as a warm up to the multiple articles I need to finish tooonight. I have to be done after these two for today. Got it? I know you're all disappointed.

These two shorts are both using characters from my WIP (work in progress). Enjoy a glimpse into the world of Marie and Nastia.

Jealousy

As she watched the dancers, each so poised, fluid, perfect, something was forming in the pit of her stomach.

She focused on her dearest friend who had a gift for ballet that exceeded everyone's in the room. Her love of dance made her face shine even after a long and arduous practice. Even after a hard and painful life. She admired her in all the ways.

But as she sat on the sidelines of the ballet life, jealousy began to take hold. And mixed with how much she loved her best friend was flecks of hate borne of envy. And in this moment, she let that feeling boil up from deep within and fester for a little too long.

Lift

"A lift?" Her heart fluttered. "Am I ready for that?"

"I think so. But there's really only one way to know for sure." Marie took a step toward the door and called, "Hey Jake, we need your help in here!"

Nastia's anxiety at the thought of practicing a lift was thrust into full on panic when she realized Jake would be doing the lifting. "Marie, really, I just don't..."

"How may I be of service?" Jake asked with a goofy grin and some crumbs tumbling off his chin onto his shirt. He took another bite of his turkey sandwich.

Marie turned to Nastia without responding to her brother. "Jake helps me all the time with lifts. I know he doesn't really look like it, but he's actually really strong."

"Hey!" Jake feigned offense.

Marie rolled her eyes and Nastia felt her cheeks flush.

Taking Jake's sandwich out of his hand, Marie pulled him further into the room and began to explain to both of them what they were going to do. Nastia's palms were clammy and her heart was racing. She was going to be lifted. She was going to be lifted by Jake.

When everyone was situated according to Marie's specifications, Jake looked at Nastia and smiled. "Marie is right," he said. "I really am strong. And I've lifted her a million times."

At Marie's impatient urging, Jake stood behind Nastia and placed his hands on her hips. Her breath caught but she willed herself to let it out slowly and focus. She followed Marie's direction, lifting into second position on pointe, then feeling herself leave the ground. For the first time she really was floating, free of the chains of earth. But she wasn't alone as she soared above reality. Jake was there. Jake was keeping her safe.

Verbuary Challenge: Day5

The word prompt was "fountain" and since I was struggling with coming up with something, I sought the help of my Bigs. The following stories were inspired by their creative minds:

Fountain (inspired by Jack)

He kept drinking and drinking and wouldn't stop. He'd drink so much that he'd have to run to the bathroom and go pee. Then he'd book it right back to the fountain and drink some more.

I was thirsty. All I needed was a sip. But he was so fast about doing his business that before I could even finish my step forward, he'd be shoving me back so he could get some more.

Finally, I asked him what his deal was. His answer was simple: "It's just so good."

Then he transformed into a fish before my eyes. I took him home and kept him as a pet.

After I got a drink, of course.

Fountain (inspired by Marie)

The most beautiful fountain any eyes have ever beheld was handcrafted by God Himself. Adam and Eve and all the animals of the Garden would gather around it every morning at dawn and worship the God who created them.

The water was crystal clear. It even sparkled in the morning sun. When Eve held her hand under the flow that cascaded down three full tiers, the water was so soft and so perfectly temperatured that it was like she was running her hand along the lion's mane (which she often did).

Yahweh would meet them there and they'd sing and chat and laugh together before heading out for their morning walk.

In the evenings, the moon would light up the fountain, giving it a fantastic glow like no earthly light could give it. Adam, Eve, and Yahweh would sit along the rock edge and recap the day, taking sips from the delectable water. Various animals would join them, lapping up some water then nuxxling or curling up in Yahweh's lap.

It was all perfect. Until it wasn't.

The evening after Eve gave in to the serpent's temptation, she and Adam didn't join Yahweh at the fountain. From a nearby thicket, they watched Yahweh greet each of his animal creations. His face was downcast as he snuggled a koala bear in his arms. Did He know somehow? It scared the couple while breaking their hearts. They ached to join Him at the fountain but they no longer belonged.

When they were cast out of the beautiful garden, just before the angel guards held up their flaming swords, Adam and Eve saw Yahweh running his hand under the fountain water, tears flowing freely. He looked at them and in that moment the fountain dried up and the garden vanished from view, waiting silently for the Savior to return.



Find my writing IG @thewriterslifeforme

Verbuary Challenge: Day4

Sometimes the words flow with little to no effort. Other times I have an annoying head cold and zero inspiration. But I managed to muddle through two completely unrelated scenes using the word prompt "Audience."

The first came from my staring out the window. The second has its roots somewhere in my work-in-progress novel. Enjoy!

Audience 

The snow was heavy and wet, melting into muddy sludge under each footfall. Fog rose from the ground surrounding the stark bare trees, giving the whole scene a thick eeriness.

She could see through the forest of trees and brambles, but felt blinded by the fuzzy endlessness. Everything looked exactly the same as a mile or two or seven ago.

The cold wet was seeping through her muddy shoes, sending chill to her bones. Where was she going? What was she doing? Why was she out here? She couldn't remember.

Losing her footing on the slushy snow, she grasped onto a prickly stem and cried out. Her voice reverberated off the soggy trees and died in the wet soil. Soaked through her clothes, she remained crumpled on the ground, weeping, oblivious to her audience waiting silently in the distance.

Audience #2

She pulls on her ballet slippers, the ribbon silky soft between her fingers. With deep breaths she attempts to calm her rapidly beating heart. Maybe this is the most important performance of her career, but it isn't a different dance. She's performed it a million times before, on stage, back stage, in her dreams.

Standing, she glimpses herself in the mirror and smooths out a flyaway. Ballerinas flutter about her, adjusting costumes, touching up makeup, talking and laughing. Everything is exactly as it should be. Exactly as it always is on performance night.

Her pulse slows and steadies. The regular backstage chaos is comforting. She closes her eyes, living the moves in her mind.

The sound of her name jolts her to reality, and she quickly moves into position. Just like every performance over the last three years, she sets her shoulders, lifts her chin, and shoves down the growing ache of knowing he won't be in the audience. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again.

She sweeps out onto the stage with her fellow dancers. The tap tap tapping of her pointe shoes is so familiar. The fluidity of her arms, her legs, her whole body comes from living this life every moment of her waking hours (and often the sleeping ones) for more than a decade.

But it's been in the last three years, the years he's been locked behind bars in a foreign land, that she became this. She is a ballerina. Her whole existence is wrapped up in this fact. And it shows through her pristine performance.

Sporadic cheers pop up from the audience on her sixth or seventh turn. Three, four, five more turns and she finishes with the air of effortlessness. The whole crowd erupts.

She knows he's not out there. She knows he's sitting cold and alone in a dank cell on the other side of the world. But she dances for him. Not for the stuffy important people in the box seating who came to see her. Not for the fans who will clamber for a picture with her after the performance. Not even for the God who gave her the gift but won't let him enjoy it. No. She dances for him alone.

The curtain falls on another ballet. Another perfect performance. Another day gone.

Find my writing IG @thewriterslifeforme

Verbuary Challenge: Day3

"Update"

Photo by Martha Dominguez de Gouveia on Unsplash

It's like someone is holding my heart outside of my chest, and with the gentle care of an adolescent monkey. All my insides are screaming for the sweet release of my heart's safe return.

But there's no guarantee of that. It's my baby in there fighting for his life while I'm out here in this cold, depressive room cluttered with cold empty chairs. It's all so cold. Life is so cold.

Pacing back and forth furiously, I glare at the ER doors as I pass, willing them to open. I need to know what's happening. I need someone, anyone, to tell me that my child, the fruit of my loins, the light of my life and whole purpose for being is going to be just fine.

My husband comes flying through the entrance and grabs me, pulling me so tight my breath is caught. I don't want him to let go.

He doesn't even ask me if there's been an update. He can tell by the look on my face and the trembling of my hands. I immediately go back to pacing, moaning like I'm the one suffering from a gunshot wound. The husband goes to the nurse at the desk and speaks in hushed, intense tones with no success.

There is no update. And no, we can't go back there. Please sit down and wait.

I clench my fists and my brain feels like it's going to explode with the effort to keep from screaming til my voice breaks.

Another family walks in to the waiting area, looks of concern but not hysteria. A child coughs. Really? A cough? Maybe a fever? MY CHILD IS DYING IN THERE!

That was us once. We brought our tiny boy in for a high fever and lethargy. We thought we knew fear then. And we thought now that he's grown we could relax a little.

He's a teacher for goodness sake. Fresh off the college presses. Barely wet his man feet in the pool of inner city public school when we're called with the words: your son has been shot. Not at school. Not in some decrepit alley where he didn't belong. Not even at the local convenient. Right inside his very own apartment where he still had boxes waiting for me to help him unpack.

He welcomed his shooter in. A child from his 7th grade class. The one he'd been reaching out to, attempting to invest good. But the kid had a gun. Not for my baby, but for himself. My grown man cub attempted to save his life as the child went to pull the trigger on himself. He shot my boy. Then he killed himself.

I find the tiniest bit of comfort in the very back of my mind, thankful that I'm not that family. I have hope of that update. I desperately need the update right this very second, but without it there's still hope that this will all go away. Without the update I can imagine him walking out those swinging doors in all his lanky adultness, goofy grin and all. Without the update...

The doors swing wide. The moment I've been pleading for and dreading all at once has finally arrived.

I crumble to the floor.

Find my writing IG @thewriterslifeforme
Find more fictional short stories

Verbuary Challenge: Day2

"Sandwich"

She had promised me 20 bucks if I helped her. I had been ambushed by this frazzled and shrill teenager, much too intrigued by her state of near hysteria to process the dollar amount or even that there was one.

I'm pretty sure at some point in her frantic telling of her teenage horror story, she also offered a dollar amount to keep the whole ordeal quiet. It was all I could do to not roll my eyes. I may have even chuckled. But she was too busy having her emotional episode to notice. Not that I really would have cared if she had noticed.

She goes through the whole narrative, looking at me like I should totally get her and have some sort of sympathetic feelings. I didn't. But I tilted my head and forced my eyebrows to furrow in what I hoped looked like concern. She seemed satisfied so I must have succeeded.

In the end, I pieced together that there was drama and her life was over. And somehow I was the key to saving the day.

Sisters are so annoying.

Not always. I mean, she and I had been best friends through our childhood. And even now we'll hang out as long as none of her friends are within several miles. But most of her life is all BFFs and boyfriends and spending hours getting ready for this, that, and the other socially vital thing.

Teenage sisters are so annoying.

I agreed to help her. It's in the big brother DNA to take care of his little sister in distress. I wasn't totally sure what exactly was causing all this distress. If anything, I needed to take care of the mess so she'd stop shrieking and begging and being all sorts of ridiculous. Hence, I agreed.

She thanked me profusely and claimed I was the best brother ever, then proceeded to tell me her detailed plan of how to get back at this guy who had flirted with another girl or something. I knew the guy. She'd been obsessed for months and my understanding was they were sorta together. As a guy, I was pretty sure her sorta-boyfriend had no idea he'd done anything wrong. And now I needed to put him in his place by jumping through hoops and playing strategic games and dancing like a ballerina.

The deal was sealed with our childhood handshake. The next day at school I was to become sudden chums with this guy and trick him into flirting with some random girl again, catching him in the atrocious act of cheat-flirting on his not-really-girlfriend. The distraught sister of mine videoing the whole ordeal.

I succeeded in making friends with the guy. He was actually quite friendly and crazy outgoing. I let the fact that I'm two years older give me an air of confidence so I didn't have to try to be cool. I was automatically cool for being a senior to his sophomore.

But seriously the guy flirted with anything that had a face. But for all the charming he did to their faces, he had equally as much crap to say behind their backs. I could only imagine what he had to say about me. And if he dared say a negative thing about my sister... By the end of the day, I'm pretty sure I hated the guy.

I gave it another couple of days, attempting to follow the sister's dastardly plan (which was really more like a daytime drama script). But I was losing my mind with this guy. Even all the charm he laid on my sister was beginning to infuriate me.

It all came to a head after school when he dared to diss my sister in a way I will never repeat. He laughed with the rest of his pals, slapping me on the back like that would somehow make what he said all fine and dandy.

It did not.

I decided my sister had enough video footage for her half-cheating sorta-boyfriend and it was time for me to change the finale.

The crunch of his nose and the subsequent sting to my knuckles was pure satisfaction. Chaos ensued in the moments following but I was all done. I spotted my sister several feet away, her phone on video, her face frozen in shock. I smiled. She blinked and smiled too.

I drove her home as she played and replayed the video. She found her voice after a couple of views and a mile or so, and jabbered on about how much he deserved it and how could she ever have wasted a single second on him and he was such a jerk and and and.

I was her hero again. The big brother hero.

She dug her wallet out of her purse and pulled out some bills. Oh that's right, she offered to pay me for my big brother services. I waved her off then pulled into my favorite sandwich shop.

I beat up her crap ex. She paid me with a sandwich. Totally worth it.

Big brother and his annoying little sister.

Find my writing IG @thewriterslifeforme
Find more fictional short stories

Verbuary Challenge: Day1

I'm diving in to this challenge for the month of February called Verb-uary. I have zero aspirations of completing every single day. But it's Feb. 2 and I'm thoroughly enjoying myself!

Using a one word prompt, I'm to write a fictional story of any length and share it with the world. I'm sharing here because I can, and I tend to write too many words for social media to handle.

Now, I'm giving you an out. You totally do not have to read any of the forthcoming fiction. It's purely for fun and writing practice. Should you feel the need to leave some feedback or join in on the challenge yourself, I'd probably do a little happy dance. But if not, my feelings toward you will not change whatsoever.

One more thing before I share the first short story: most of the time, I have no idea where the story is going until it's done. These aren't edited. They barely pass through my brain before hitting the page. But isn't that how the best stories are born? When they happen TO you? Well, I think so!

Photo by Kaley Dykstra on Unsplash

"Chain"

He slumps a little bit more than yesterday. Nothing is different today. But that's the problem.

Over and over. Day after day. The same.

He tosses the empty bag of chips across the living room floor and shoves the 3 cans of beer onto the floor. Grabbing the remote, he navigates his Apple TV. A movie, a show, the news? A mindless game? Stupid videos of stupid people doing stupid things?

He clicks on YouTube and drowns in the mindlessness of it all. At least he's not that guy. At least he's not parading himself (or being paraded) all over the internet. At least no one can see him now.

The loneliness tightens his chest and he reaches for food as a response. The chains grow tighter. Heavier.

His hands grasp at empty rappers and cans and bags. He's literally eaten through everything. Even if he wanted to get up--even if he could--he'd find nothing in the cupboards. His fridge has been empty for who knows how long.

His anger boils up. He wants to blame someone. He looks around like he might find someone to blame, knowing full well his eyes weren't going to land on anyone but himself. And when his eyes do catch a glimpse of himself--his tattered and stained sweatpants and large rolling gut, something explodes inside of him.

He leaps from his smelly and distorted lazy chair with more power than a man of his girth should be able to. Tearing through the room, kicking trash about, he rummages under the kitchen sink in search of a trash bag. He finds none.

He's sucking air, not only from the sudden exertion, but even more so from the chains ever tightening. They're thick and cold. And oh so heavy. He flails his arms, desperate to break free from the invisible chains of sin that have gripped him for far too long. That have stolen his entire life from him.

The room is empty but for him to the naked eye, but the spiritual war is waging hard. He thrashes about while the demons of his sinful life grip and pull on his chains, legs, neck.

He falls in a heap. Defeated.

Distant voices from the YouTube videos remind him, as he lay panting and still, that he's completely alone. He's crying now. He's like a beast, chained to the floor with demons for guards, taunting and laughing and pulling ever tighter the suffocating restraints.

Find my writing IG @thewriterslifeforme

Date Night: October Edition

Derek recently coordinated some date night babysitting exchange with my brother and SIL. They live just minutes from us now so it's super easy! And we only have to watch two kids when they go out ;)

My favorite place to go (because it's free!) is the Mishawaka Riverwalk. It's so beautiful and peaceful. I love not feeling rushed, but just moseying along, admiring all the things. Derek always talks about when he and his Xtreme crew knocked out a bunch of trees blocking the view of the river while he convinced the mayor to keep a select few. The rest of the time I usually go on musing about everything under the sun and Derek quietly and patently listens in the loving way he always does. We're so good for each other.

Just off the Riverwalk is Smokestack Brew, which is delish so we dined then walked some more. Nothing fancy, just time together. 

There have been a lot of broken marriages coming to the surface lately. People that have been together much longer than D and I have. People who's weddings we went to. People we never thought would fall apart. It's been a painful reminder of how fragile marriage really is. 

It's also a reminder that it is a slow fade. We don't fall apart overnight. We fall apart over time. It's one tiny decision after another until one day we realize we're miles apart and getting back to each other will take nothing short of a miracle. And usually at that point, we don't really want that miracle.

I can't help but PRAISE THE LORD that He has stationed angels to guard our marriage. Yes, it takes effort on our part. And yes, we fail and we drift and we have stupidity tendencies. But in the end, it's JESUS who holds us together. That in itself is an utter miracle and a blessing at which I pray we never turn up our noses. 

Love is Not a Fight

Warren Barfield

Love is not a place

To come and go as we please

It's a house we enter in

And then commit

To never leave

So lock the door behind you

Throw away the key

We'll work it out together

Let it bring us to our knees

Love is a shelter

In a raging storm

Love is peace

In the middle of a war

If we try to leave

May God send angels

To guard the door

No, love is not a fight

But it's something worth fighting for

To some love is a word

That they can fall into

But when they're falling out

Keeping their word is hard to do

Love will come to save us

If we'll only call

He will ask nothing from us

But demand we give our all

Love is a shelter

In a raging storm

Love is peace

In the middle of a war

If we try to leave

May God send angels

To guard the door

No, love is not a fight

But it?s something worth fighting for

I will fight for you

Would you fight for me?

It's worth fighting for

Date Night: April Edition

I love April.

It being my birthday month has everything to do with it.

I don't like growing older but I love my birthday.

Just do what Derek does and don't try to understand me. It can't be done.

I still remember how in high school my friends would deck out my locker every year. They always made me feel so special (thanks, Dava!). Derek does an excellent job of that, also. He's not the type to decorate, but that's not what I would want at this time in my life.

He always knows exactly what will fill my heart the most. Even though I spend basically every waking hour with my kids, time together with my family is my very favorite.

And if it's free (or mostly free) and nature is involved, he's nailed it.

The weekend of my birthday was packed full of goodness. It all began on Friday night with a girls night with my biggest.

We went to Secret Keeper Girl where we learned about how God has made us each a masterpiece. It was incredible and all sorts of fun. Lifelong memories were made.

Derek had to work on Saturday morning so we all just lounged around. (It was my birthday weekend. Dishes were not on the agenda!) He came home and we all piled into the van and drove 1.75 minutes to a small lake to go hiking.

Afterwards, we dropped the kids at my Bro and SILs and headed to the theater with the lounge seats. We ate popcorn, drank soda, and watched I Can Only Imagine. (Highly recommend, by the way!!)

A quick stop at my fave sandwich place - Penn Station - then some chat time with the sibs and home again.

On my birthday, we went to one of our favorite places: church. Family celebration followed at my parents house. Then Derek and the kids went to kids club/youth group, and I settled into a couple of chairs with a good book.

It was stress-free. It was full of family. It was perfect.

Thank you, husband! On to another year of this glorious life. Interesting how I haven't aged at all in years...